#besides i need some purpose in life and serotonin

[hoteadepresso]

on top of my throat infection and stuffy nose today I woke up with one of my eyes swollen and red as hell (probably viral infection as well since that can go together with throat infection)

should I made a mature decision to let it rest today? absolutely

will I end up spending the whole day in front of my computer screen making Mike vid? totally

[etherrreal]

“resentment”

Pairing: oikawa x fem!reader Genre: angst Summary: you used to love oikawa’s determination, his drive, his willingness to give his all and sacrifice everything to get the things he wants. now those are the same things that make you resent him. WC: 6,700 Warnings: lots of angst, explicit language, reader’s kinda petty but so is oikawa, relationship isn’t toxic or anything but it could def be better A/N: shoutout to @shadowkunoichi​ for this request! your ask gave me enough serotonin to last for the rest of the week <3 it’s also important to note that the moment i saw oikawa’s smug ass face on screen my brain and heart immediately went “this the one” so here’s some pain ft. my favorite setter -Dawn

The first few times Oikawa cancels your dates for extended volleyball practice, you tell yourself it doesn’t bother you. You’re disappointed, of course –you barely see him enough as it is, despite living together for three months, despite dating for a total of eight– but it’s not the end of the world. It’s just another compromise you have to make, and it probably won’t be the last.

That’s what relationships are about, anyway, you remind yourself firmly, whenever the silence of your too-big for one person apartment starts to get to you. Compromise.

You’re no stranger to compromise, either. You can’t be, not when you’re dating a pro-athlete. You know better than anyone how talented Oikawa is, how admired. He’s worked so hard, and you’re so proud of him. You may not know much about sports, but you do know that your boyfriend has an amazing career ahead of him.

And while the selfish part of you would like to keep him all to yourself, you also know it won’t always be possible, and you tell yourself you’re okay with that. You love Oikawa, and you support every single one of his dreams, even if doing so means you have to eat dinner on your own sometimes.

It won’t always be this way, you tell yourself. It’s just for now. And it definitely doesn’t mean he loves you any less.

That’s what you tell yourself.

It helps that he’s always sorry about it. You hear it in his voice whenever he calls you to tell you he won’t be home until late, see it in the guilty way his eyes search for yours through the screen when he FaceTimes you to let you know you shouldn’t wait up for him. He’s even more torn up about it than you are most of the time, blowing your phone up with apologetic voice notes and text messages with too many emojis.

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: babe 😔😔

[you]:: yes baby?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😔😔😔😔

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😩😩😭😭

[you]:: oh boy

[you]:: you’re not gonna be home in time for dinner, are you?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i don’t think so 😩😔 we have that game coming up so we’ll be practicing all night

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m so sorry baby ☹️☹️ but i’ll have to miss dinner again 😭😭

[you]:: it’s fine, i’ll just find someone else to share my chicken with

[you]:: speaking of, u have ushiwaka’s #? i wanna see something

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: STOPPPP 😭😭 i’m sorry!!!

[you]:: allegedly

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: stop 😭😭 i mean it!! i love you pls don’t hate me 😩☹️

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m really sorry babe ☹️☹️

[you]:: if ur apology doesn’t include dollar signs then i don’t wanna hear it

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: check ur email

[you]:: ??

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 👀😇

You check your email, and sure enough, there’s a gift card there to your favorite clothing store, along with a note that reads “financial compensation for putting up with me <3 also if u ever share chicken with ushiwaka i’ll cry and then die so pls don’t.” It makes you laugh so hard you forget about being upset with him in the first place.

[you]:: i was joking!! u didn’t actually have to send me anything u weirdo

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i know 😇😏😘

And when he does make it home that night with an apology on his lips, a bouquet of flowers, and a promise that he’ll make it up to you, it’s hard to do anything else besides forgive him. Because you know that no matter how crazy both of your schedules are, no matter how lonely you might feel without him at your side, he loves you more than anything, and you love him as much in return. And for a while, that’s enough.

Until it isn’t.

You’re thankful to have successfully made it through your first year of grad school with just a caffeine addiction and minor bags under your eyes, but not having to attend your classes or meet with your professors over the break means you’re at the apartment a lot more. You still have your job, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore Oikawa’s absence.

It’s not just dates he’s missing anymore. It’s family events, outings with your friends, getaway trips the two of you planned weeks in advance.

You know it’s not his fault. He has things he wants to accomplish, goals he set for himself long before he met you. The Olympics are coming up, and he needs to be ready. You can’t blame him for staying late to get in some extra practice, or for having to attend events with his teammates and his fans instead of you.

You can’t blame him for any of it, at least not without feeling selfish and unsupportive, and somehow that just makes it worse.

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to build up the courage to talk to him about it. You almost don’t want to bring it up at all, but after weeks of missed dates and apology bouquets, of waking up without him and going to sleep before he gets home, you crumble. You don’t think you can keep grinning and bearing it anymore, not without starting to resent him.

You confront him while he’s sitting at the kitchen island in the middle of your shared apartment. It’s rare he doesn’t have a game on the weekend, even rarer he gets to spend the afternoon with you. It almost makes you reconsider –will this ruin your time together?– but you hold fast. You know that if you don’t bring it up now, then you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that much more silent heartache.

Oikawa, for his part, does well to listen as you speak. He watches you intently, pretty brown eyes soft and searching, as you tell him about how neglected you’re feeling, how lonely.

You know he’s not doing it on purpose. You know he’s meant every single one of his apologies, and that this is what you signed up for when you agreed to be in a relationship with him. And you love how driven he is, how determined he is to succeed.

You just...you miss him. That’s what it boils down to in the end: how much you miss him. You miss him now more than that time he left to spend a month back home in Japan while you stayed in Argentina, despite the fact that you’re in the same country this time, despite the fact that you share the same apartment. It shouldn’t be possible, but it’s true.

“I know your career is important, and I would never try to get in the way of that,” you tell him, quietly, tiredly. There’s an exhausted air around you he’s never seen before, the kind of whispered sadness that breaks his heart. “But sometimes, Tooru...sometimes it feels like I’m dating a ghost. And I’m not mad at you, or angry, I’m just...lonely.”

You finally look at him, and the emotion in his eyes startles you. He’s actually tearing up –“you’re such a crybaby,” you like to tease him when his eyes water during sad movies, but you always comfort him anyway– and it’s enough to make your eyes fill with tears, too. He looks so sad, so broken, like knowing he’s hurt you –even if it’s been completely unintentional– hurts him too.

He’s quick to stand and walk over to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You return the embrace, resting your head against his chest while one of his hands moves to cradle the back of your head.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into your hair, and you can tell by the way his voice shakes that he means it. “I know things have been crazy lately, but that’s no excuse for leaving you here alone. I never want you to feel like you’re anything besides the most important person in my life. I love you so much, and I promise I’m going to fix this. Things will get better, I swear.”

And in that moment, you believe him. You trust him, after all, and you know he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. So you let him mumble reassurances into your hair, let him kiss your breath away and shower you in the affection you’ve been missing for far too long.

It’s so easy to get lost in it, lost in him. Too easy.

He’s always been like that; charismatic and witty, magnetic and charming. It doesn’t help that he’s totally gorgeous, too. You knew, from the moment you met him, that if you ever let yourself fall in love with him, you’d be in trouble. It’s why you never took any of his advances seriously, at least not in the beginning.

But he was able to chip at your resolve with every teasing smile and playful wink, every reverent touch and whispered words meant just for you. He let you get to know him; the real him, not that flippant and perfect pretty boy facade he presents to the rest of the world, and so of course you fell for him, because how could you not?

Oikawa is stubborn and prideful, exhausting and even sometimes petty, but he makes you feel like you’re the strongest person he knows. He looks at you like you’re the only one he’ll ever want to see. He makes you laugh and keeps you on your toes, and you know right away –before you moved in together, before you told him you loved him– that you will never love anyone the way you love him, because no one else will ever be able to compare.

That’s why it’s so easy for you to believe him now. Because you know he loves you and that you love him, and the two of you are determined to make this relationship work. So when he promises that things will change, that he’ll be more present from here on out, you believe him.

It’s the first promise he’s ever made to you that he doesn’t keep.

For every event Oikawa does bother to make it to, he misses two more. Your parents, who adore him, wonder why they never see him anymore. Your friends start to ask if you even still have a boyfriend. You find yourself asking the very same thing.

You stop inviting him to events at your university and lunches with your friends. You don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment anymore, and you figure it’s easier to just save yourself from the inevitable. The apology gifts he gives you start to feel hollow, empty, just like your apartment. You stop opening them, letting them pile up in the corner of your living room. Eventually, he stops giving them to you.

You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if it upsets you even more.

The Olympics get closer each day. Oikawa’s practices become more intense and even longer than they already were. There are so many things he needs to do now: games to play, meet and greets to attend. Sometimes if he’s out too late he just doesn’t come home at all. The team sets him up at a hotel, and he stays there for the night instead.

It gets harder to catch his scent on his pillow where it lays beside you in bed, untouched and forgotten. It should hurt you more, but it doesn’t.

There’s an event being held back in Japan, promising a night of drinking and dancing and schmoozing. All the investors and international players and coaches will be there, and you promised a while back to be Oikawa’s plus one.

The vindictive part of you wants to cancel on him, just so he knows how it feels, but you decide you can put your pettiness aside for a few nights if it means free booze and food and a comfortable stay at some ridiculously fancy hotel. You wonder if that’ll be enough to fill the hole he’s made in your heart.

Besides, you want to remind him that you’re the kind of person who keeps your word, even if he’s not.

The flight is long and exhausting. So is finding your hotel and forcing yourself to get dressed, but you get through it. Oikawa looks unfairly stunning in his suit, but you try not to notice. He arrives at the party with you on his arm, wearing a silky gown that matches his tie and jewelry that glitters whenever it catches the light.

You’ve barely talked to each other the whole way here, but at the party, amongst his teammates, old rivals, and friends, you’re the perfect couple. You smile, laugh, and dance exactly when you’re supposed to. You play your role so well that no one notices how numb you are, not even Oikawa, even though he’s supposed to know you better than anyone else.

Maybe that’s why you find yourself at the open bar. Oikawa’s off mingling with god knows who, swamped by dozens of people who are always seeking his favor, trapped in his orbit. They praise his hard work, his tenacity, his determination. Once upon a time, you would’ve done the same.

But things are different between you now. What used to be Oikawa’s endearing stubbornness is now an outright refusal to meet you halfway. His determination to be the best has become an inability to compromise; his passion has become obsession. It’s strange to think how all the things that used to make you love him now just make you resent him.

But the liquor here is free and flowing so you knock it back like water, and it’s almost enough to make you forget your heartbreak, your anger. Almost.

All the drinking eventually sends you to the bathroom. You touch up your makeup as best as you can and wash your hands with one of the several different soap options, exiting the bathroom noticeably drunker than you were when you went in.

You’re off-balance enough that when you run into what feels like a brick wall but is actually just a tall, broad-shouldered man, you stumble and nearly fall over. He reacts quicker than you do, catching your elbow and steadying you back on your feet.

He asks you if you’re all right and you reassure him that you are. You swear you’ve seen his face before, but you’re too tipsy right now to bother to remember where.

“I appreciate the help,” you say sincerely, patting his shoulder. “But I promise I’m okay. Thank you again, really.”

He gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you, and he’s proven right approximately five seconds later, when you turn on your heel to leave and nearly fall over again. Once more, he’s there to catch you.

You try to convince him that you’re okay; you’re just a little bit tipsy from all the champagne earlier, but he guides you to one of the stupid velvet couches in the hallway and makes you sit down. He tells you to stay there and wait for him, and you want to protest but he’s already gone before you can make any real sort of argument.

When he returns, it’s with a bottle of water, which you sheepishly accept. He stays with you as you drink it, and your vision and stomach start to settle. You thank him again for all his help. He tells you it’s no big deal, and when he introduces himself as Ushijima Wakatoshi, you laugh so hard you almost spit water all over yourself.

Ushijima raises an eyebrow at you. “Is there something about my name that amuses you?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” It takes more effort than it should, but you’re thankfully able to force yourself to stop laughing. Talk about ironic encounters. “It’s just– I’ve heard of you before.”

“Are you a fan of volleyball?”

You resist the urge to snort, sending him an amused smile instead. “Something like that.”

The two of you chat for a little while, and it’s a surprisingly pleasant conversation. You quite like his company, and you appreciate how he’s willing to keep an eye on you solely out of the kindness of his heart, just to make sure you’re really okay. It’s hardly necessary anymore –the water’s doing a great job at sobering you up– but it’s a nice distraction from the reason you started drinking in the first place.

Or it was, until you start to hear that very same reason calling your name from somewhere down the hall. His voice gets closer and closer, and you shut your eyes, bracing yourself.

“What the hell?”

You open your eyes and suddenly Oikawa is in front of you, eyebrows drawn together and lips pulled into a deep frown. You can only imagine what you look like to him right now, low-eyed and tipsy and sitting on a couch next to his oldest rival.

You can already see the anger in his eyes, the suspicion. He’s jealous, and it’s absolutely ridiculous because he has no right to be. Not after ignoring you for so long. Not after reminding you over and over again that when it comes down to it, you’ll always be second place to his career.

You haven’t been flirting with Ushijima, but now you wonder if maybe you should have. There’s a bitter part of you that wants to hurt Oikawa as much as he’s hurt you, even if it’s only for a moment.

Ushijima seems completely oblivious to the situation, which you’re sure just infuriates your boyfriend even more. He’s described to you in great detail how one of the things he finds most frustrating about Ushijima is how completely and utterly unbothered he is by everything.

“Oikawa,” the man closest to you greets, standing up. “It’s good to see you.”

“Ushiwaka.” The smile your boyfriend directs to his old rival is tight-lipped and void of any of its usual warmth. Oikawa’s gaze settles on you next, eyes narrowing even further. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is plain, dull, as you tilt your head at him mockingly. “Do I know you?”

“Stop being cute.” The way he practically snaps it makes it clear he doesn’t think you’re being cute at all. In fact, he actually looks pretty pissed, and you almost smile at the realization. As petty as he can be, it’s clear you’re better at this than he is. “It’s getting late. It’s time for us to leave.”

Ushijima’s gaze slides over to you. “Do you know him?”

But you’re not looking at him. You’re looking straight at Oikawa, at the tenseness of his shoulders, the way he’s on the verge of fuming. Apparently, just the idea of you being alone with his oldest rival is more concerning to him than the fact that you’ve barely spent any time with each other in the past two months. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Of course.” You stand, closing the short distance between yourself and Oikawa. “He’s my boyfriend. My loving, devoted, perfect boyfriend.”

You place the hand that’s not holding your water bottle against his chest, perching on your toes to deliver a sweet kiss to his cheek. When you pull away, the stain of your lipstick remains, and you wonder if he can feel the resentment in it.

“I just forget sometimes, is all. You know, since we never see each other.”

You don’t bother to examine the look on his face. You can’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You turn to Ushijima instead, offering a tired but genuine smile.

“Thank you again for your help, Ushijima. It was a pleasure to officially meet you. Have a good night.”

You turn on your heel and walk away, down the hall and past several magnificent paintings, past any apology you would normally be ready to offer. It’s petty and deliberate, the kind of reaction you didn’t think you were capable of before this, but it’s all you have left. Oikawa doesn’t care, hasn’t cared for a while actually, so neither will you.

You don’t know what he says to Ushijima or if he even says anything at all, but you do hear his footsteps when he runs after you. They slow as he gets closer, but you don’t stop walking, don’t turn back to look.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What– what the fuck was all that back there, huh?”

You stop. Slowly, you turn to look at him, but you don’t say anything. You just stand there, watching, waiting, feeling absolutely nothing as you do.

“‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’” It’s a poor imitation of your voice, but the intention is there. “So what, I don’t spend enough time with you and suddenly it’s okay for you to flirt with someone else?”

You laugh without humor. “That’s what you’re stuck on? The fact that I had a conversation with him and not the part where I said we never see each other? You truly have a gift, Tooru.”

The frown on his face deepens, but the anger in his eyes softens a little, replaced by a hint of guilt. There’s regret there, too, over not keeping the promise he made to you. You would be more moved by it if you weren’t so completely infuriated right now.

He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. “I’m not going to have this argument with you. Not here.”

“Where should we have it then, hm? In the lobby? At the hotel? We’re damn sure not having it when we get home, because you’re never fucking there!”

You don’t mean to scream at him, but that’s what comes out. You’re not sure which one of you is more surprised by it. Oikawa stares at you, wide-eyed and stunned, as if you’ve just slapped him, and you stare back, breathing hard. You’re so focused on each other you don’t even notice you have an audience until you hear a new, familiar voice speak.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi steps between you, concerned and cautious.

He’s the only one here, thank god, but his appearance reminds you that this is definitely not the time or the place for any of this. You shouldn’t care who overhears you, but as angry as you are, you’re not selfish enough to air out your relationship’s problems in front of all of Oikawa’s friends and colleagues. You still love him, after all, even if it’s hurting you to do so.

Iwaizumi casts a wary glance between you and his best friend, almost like he’s preparing himself to play the unwilling referee in what seems to be an inevitable fight. Any other time, you might’ve laughed at the look on his face, but not now. “Everything okay, you two?”

It’s not. It hasn’t been for a while, and right now Oikawa’s looking at you like he’s finally realizing that too.

The car ride back to the hotel is eerily silent. You and Oikawa share no words, no fleeting glances; you don’t even sit close enough to touch each other, not even accidentally. The ride up to your floor is spent in a similar fashion, a cold distance settling between you that’s never been there before.

Or maybe it’s been there for a while, and it took you screaming at him in the middle of a party for the two of you to notice it.

Miraculously, you make it into your room in one piece. The two of you remove your coats and shoes in that same suffocating silence. You make it to the bedroom without exchanging a single word, and he takes a seat on the bed while you sit in front of the vanity and begin removing your jewelry.

Another long stretch of silence later, and then he’s meeting your eyes in the mirror to ask, “Can we talk?”

You consider telling him to go fuck himself instead, but somehow you bite down the urge.

“About what?” You take off your necklace, a pretty golden chain with your birthstone on it that he got you for your birthday. “About how I wasn’t flirting with Ushijima? Because I wasn’t, if that’s what you’re still so torn up about.”

“I know you weren’t,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. It’s a bit longer than you remember; that’s how long it’s been since you’ve really gotten the chance to look at him. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“I do. You were jealous.” Your earrings are the next to go, another gift from him. He’s scattered himself into so many pieces across your life; you’re not sure how you’ll ever be free of him, or if you’ll ever want to be. “But you had no reason to be. I would never do that to you.”

“I know.” He looks down, fidgets with his fingers, meets your gaze again through the mirror. His tie is loosened around his neck, making him look disheveled in just the way you like. “I’m sorry.”

“Great.” Your tone is short, clipped, as you finally remove the last of your jewelry. “Is that all?”

“Please don’t do that. I’m trying to have a conversation with you here, so that we can fix this. I mean, don’t you want to talk about everything, especially after tonight?”

“I’ve already said everything I needed to say, Tooru.” You break your gaze from the mirror, turning to glance over your shoulder at him instead. “You know exactly what the problem is, just like I know you won’t do a single thing to change it. You can’t, because my feelings –our entire relationship– all of that stuff’s always going to come second to the things you want.”

The frown from earlier is back now, this time paired with a hard look, like he can’t believe you’re questioning his commitment, even though he’s given you dozens of reasons to do so. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” You rise to your feet, a dry, humorless laugh escaping your throat as you do. “Tell that to the countless dates you’ve missed. Tell that to the bed you hardly sleep in anymore, to all the times I’ve fallen asleep without you and then woken up only to realize you still weren’t there.”

The words feel heavy and bitter on your tongue, your anger growing the more you think about everything you’ve endured over the past few months, all the different ways he’s managed to disappoint you.

“There’s nothing untrue about it, Tooru. You just don’t care about me the way I care about you.”

“Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me I don’t care about you?” he demands. “Of course I care. I love you, dammit. How could you ever think I don’t?”

“How couldn’t I? God, have you seriously not heard a single thing I’ve said this entire time? I’m practically in this relationship by myself, and you’re doing absolutely nothing to change that!”

“You think I like having to leave you on your own so much? You think it doesn’t break my heart seeing the look on your face every time I have to tell you I can’t make it to all the things I want to be there for?” He’s on his feet now, hand jabbing at his chest, like if he could rip out his heart and show you the scars there, he would. “Because it does, okay? It makes me fucking miserable, but what else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to be there, Tooru!” You don’t know when you started crying, but you are. You’re yelling too, hands shaking, voice raw. “You’re supposed to be there when I need you, not make stupid promises you can’t keep! And even if you can’t be there all the time, you’re at least supposed to try!”

“I am trying! I’ve been trying this whole time, and you know that!” He sounds as exasperated and raw as you do, waving his arms around, red-faced and distressed. “You knew what my goals were before we started dating. I never hid them from you. You knew exactly what I wanted, you knew how hard I would have to work, how hard it would be for us, and you agreed to be with me anyway! You promised me you wouldn’t let it come between us!”

“Well, that was before I knew how fucking impossible it would be!”

There’s nothing productive being exchanged between the two of you anymore. You’re just screaming at each other. You call him obsessed and self-absorbed; he calls you needy and demanding. He tells you to grow up and stop asking for so much, and you tell him he’s chasing a pointless dream.

You’re not trying to compromise with each other, or trying to make the other see your point of view. You both just want to hurt each other, and you do.

You’re crying by the end of it; so is he, but you both refuse to admit defeat. It’s one of the many things you have in common: your stubbornness. You’re out of breath and hurting and there’s a small part of you that just wants him to hold you, but at the same time, you can’t stand the sight of him anymore.

You storm out of the room before he gets the chance to, looking back to catch him throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. You throw yourself onto the couch and opt to sleep there for the night, because you know that if you don’t, you’ll probably end up strangling each other.

Oikawa, for once, is wise enough not to follow you, but there’s a quiet voice inside your heart that wishes he did.

You wake up the next morning with a stuffy nose and a migraine. The price of crying yourself to sleep, you suppose. Your appetite is gone but you know that if you don’t eat anything soon the pain behind your skull will only get worse, so you force yourself to stand from the couch.

You step on something hard, eyes widening at the indignant noise of protest it lets out in response. You lose your footing almost immediately, toppling over onto the carpet. It’s everything you can do to throw out your hands and avoid smacking your forehead against the coffee table.

“What the fuck, Tooru?” You scowl when you realize it’s not a random object you’ve tripped over, but rather your own boyfriend, who for some inconceivable reason is laying on the floor beside the couch. “It’s bad enough we spent last night fighting– now you’re trying to kill me, too?”

“I could say the same thing to you!” Oikawa exclaims, returning your scowl with equal exasperation. He’s rubbing at his chest, a pout tugging at his lips as he groans. “You just stepped on my chest. I could have died.”

“Oh, bite me, drama queen.” You roll your eyes, preparing to stand up again, but then you notice the dark circles on his usually flawless skin, the messiness of his hair, and the fact that he’s still wearing his suit from last night, though the tie is gone and the first few buttons of his shirt are loosened. “...did you actually sleep out here? On the floor? Why didn’t you just sleep on the bed like a normal person?”

“I couldn’t.” He pouts even more, and when you nudge his leg with your foot, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It didn’t feel right without you. It never does. But it felt even worse after last night.”

It melts your heart, you admit. Just a little. But it’s not enough to make you forgive him or to forget your argument, and right now he’s looking at you like he knows that too.

Still, you feel the urge to remind him, “I’m still pissed at you.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. Not just for what I said last night, but for everything I’ve done before that. I never should’ve made you feel like you’re asking for too much, because you’re not, it’s just…” He takes a shaky breath, leans his head back against the couch from where he sits beside you on the floor. “...it’s hard.”

He turns his body slightly so he’s facing you fully. He starts to reach out a hand towards you, almost like he wants to cup your cheek, but he seems to think better of it and lets his hand drop down between you. You almost smile.

His eyes are hesitant as they meet yours, apologetic. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, either.” You fiddle with the straps of your gown where they’ve slid down your arm. You were so exhausted and upset after your fight with him that you didn’t bother to change out of it. “...do you really think I’m needy and demanding?”

“Of course not,” he answers easily. “Do you really think I’m chasing a pointless dream?”

“Definitely not. Your dream isn't pointless, Tooru, it’s amazing, and it’s one I know you can reach.” Your hands brush where they rest between you. He tenses slightly, like he’s not sure you’ll want to touch him after everything, but you slide your fingers through his and watch as he lets out a quiet sigh of relief. “I was just angry.”

“Me too.” He squeezes your hand, and you let him pull you a bit closer to him, let him press a kiss to the back of your palm. “I don’t want to fight with you. And I definitely don’t want to disappoint you anymore.”

“I don’t want to blame you or resent you anymore, either.” You inch closer and he lets you rest your head against his shoulder, resting his own against yours in return. A clock ticks on the wall behind you. For the first time in a while, it feels like the two of you are back in sync. “So what are we gonna do about it?”

It’s the million-dollar question, it seems. And it’s the one that, after weeks of heartache, of missing each other and blaming each other at the same time, he finally has the answer to.

When you return to Argentina together, everything changes. Oikawa’s determination goes back to being something you love, now that he’s putting it towards making sure the two of you get to spend time together. He’s at the apartment more; does his best to get to dinner on time, to attend outings with your family and friends, and to meet you halfway at fancy restaurants and magnificent museums and shower you with his undivided attention.

It’s not perfect. He’s still busy, so he can’t be with you all the time, but the effort is there. You see it now more than ever, and it’s all you’ve wanted.

It doesn’t last.

You spend three blissful months together, both of you putting in an equal amount of effort to make it work, to understand each other and support each other, even when it seems impossible. But Oikawa’s schedule becomes more and more unyielding as time goes on, and it’s not long before the cycle of absence starts all over again.

If you had to really pinpoint the beginning of the end, you’d say it’s the night of your presentation. The research project you’ve spent countless hours working on has finally been completed, and tonight you’re going to share it with the public; this thing you’ve struggled with since you entered grad school, this thing you’ve put your blood, sweat, and tears into, both metaphorically and literally.

It goes incredibly well, as your professors and mentors reassured you it would. Your classmates, friends, and parents are all there, and they get to watch and glow with pride as the room erupts into applause once you finish your presentation, knocking the whole thing out of the park just like they knew you would.

The only one who isn’t there is Oikawa, despite you telling him about this ages ago, despite it being written on the calendar hanging on your fridge. You know he texted you with some excuse, but you don’t bother to check which one it was this time.

It should hurt more. It should make you want to shout and scream, to sob and cry, but it doesn’t. The anger you felt before, the fury and heartbreak; it’s not there anymore. It’s gone. You’re not sad or upset or disappointed. You just don’t feel anything at all.

Your friends offer to take you out for the night to celebrate, but you politely decline. Instead, you make your way to the apartment you share with Oikawa, finding it emptier than it’s ever been before.

Months ago, you might’ve cried. Now you do nothing, say nothing, feel nothing. It’s just numb.

By the time Oikawa does make it home, you’re already packed. You’re sitting at the table, waiting, still as a statue. He greets you in a flurry of brown hair and frantic movement, an apology you don’t care to listen to fast on his lips. He whirls by you so quickly he doesn’t even notice your bags stacked next to you.

“Shit, baby, I’m so sorry! I know I’m late, but I’m here now and I promise I won’t be going anywhere for the next few–…”

It takes him a few moments, a couple of double-takes, but finally, he registers the silence around him, the sight of you at the table, surrounded by your things. For once, he has no idea what to say; you see it in the way he looks at you, the way he freezes, wide-eyed and almost afraid.

“My research presentation was today,” you start. “It went great. They’re going to publish it in a journal.”

You watch his face crumple right before your eyes, watch the way his shoulders slump. He looks more defeated now than during any of his previous losses, and so, so incredibly guilty.

“But I thought it wasn’t until–...but it was, wasn’t it? Oh, god. I– I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know you are.”

You stand up. The smile you send him is tired and a little sad, but it’s not bitter, at least not anymore. You’re past that now. You’d like to think you both are.

“I’m so proud of you, Tooru. You work harder than anybody I’ve ever known. I just know you’re going to reach every single one of your dreams.”

You mean it, too. Oikawa has an incredible future ahead of him. You’ve always known that. Once upon a time, you believed you might be a part of it, but not anymore.

“...but I also know that I can’t be with you when you do. I can’t– I won’t be second place for the rest of my life.”

He’s incredibly stubborn, and this time is no different. He tries to change your mind, tries to convince you to stay, but it’s far too little and far too late. Too much has happened between you two, and you just don’t have it in you to be disappointed anymore.

You love him. You do. You always will, and you tell him so, too. But just because you love someone, you remind him softly, doesn’t mean you’re meant to be with them. You love him enough to let him go, and you’re hoping he loves you the same.

“But you promised you’d stay,” he whispers, more heartbroken than you’ve ever seen him over all of this, over you. “You promised we’d figure it out. And now...now you’re just giving up on us?”

You place your keys on the table. The clock in your– no, his kitchen ticks along. It matches the slow, broken beating of your heart. He’s run out of time, and you’ve run out of chances.

“That’s just it, Tooru. I have nothing left to give you.”

This time when you leave, you don’t look back.

Written by: Dawn

[neoculturetravesty]

We met in online class - Last Part

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language Word Count: 3.4k

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | You are on the Last Part

A/N: And so it comes to an end, and let me tell you guys, I am not okay 😔 This is going to be a bit of a longer A/N, so please bear with me. If you’d like to get straight to the story, I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND, so feel free to click Keep Reading!

Lowkey, I had a bit of a meltdown as I typed the final words on this fic because I hadn’t realized how attached I had grown to the characters. This is the first time I wrote three different chapter openers before deciding on one, because I simply couldn’t believe it was goodbye after this.

These mofos had constantly been on my mind for the past two months and a half. I would spend most days thinking about where to take them and then bringing them to life at night, after my entire day was over. When I wasn’t writing, I’d make little notes about thoughts I had into the night about them so that I wouldn’t forget them when morning comes. 

This was my first ever (and as of right now, my only) chaptered fic. I had no idea parting with it would be as emotional as it was. When I think back to when I first received the prompt for this, I had never even imagined I could write Renjun, let alone a series. But there was something in the prompt that had gotten my wheels turning. And I am so immensely glad that it did. There were days when I thought “Oh man, what have I gotten myself into.” Some days, the story would just flow. Other days, I’d keep staring at the blinking cursor not knowing what to type. But when I did, I found my emotions so deeply connected with the characters. I was happy when they were happy. I was sad when they were sad. So, parting with them is very hard to say the least.

But through this journey, I got to experience the joy of reading all of your reviews and comments and honestly, it made it all worth it. THANK YOU to every single one of you that read this story and waited on it and laughed and cried with it. You have made my life better in more ways than you can imagine.

In this moment, I want to thank 🍙 anon, because it was their prompt that put me in this mess in the first place. And so, it is only fitting that I dedicate the final part to them 💛

“Oh, we definitely need a picture together. How about here? I think this place would fit everyone.” Kim Doyoung looks about, finding a spot best suited for the photo he wanted.

“I think right there on the platform would be better. We could get everyone in two tiers.” his assistant suggests.

“You’re a genius. Let’s gather everyone. It’s not often that so many NCTU grads and students come to Midnight Arthouse,” Doyoung nods.

“How many of us are here, anyway?” Renjun muses. The assistant looks at her iPad, checking once again.

“I think there’s 23 of you. So, let’s definitely go for the platform.” she nods.

“Okay, then.” Doyoung claps his hands together once, “Gather everyone,” he says to no one in particular and walks ahead with purpose. Renjun and the assistant’s eyes meet and they smirk. Of course this was directed to the both of them. So, they set about to work.

As it would turn out, gathering 23 people from a charity event with art and food and drinks would be a bit of a task. But somehow, they manage to gather all alumni and current students on the platform in three tiers instead of two for a somewhat chaotic picture. There must’ve been something in the water at NCTU because none of it’s students could stand still for very long. They get maybe one decent picture and several in which someone or the other was moving or pulling a face.

His friends aside, looking around at the group, Renjun realized that he recognized nearly all of them. Yangyang and Hendery and the rest of their frat were here. As were the 127s, old and new. Renjun recognized them all, except maybe two boys, who didn’t seem to know a lot of the others either. When the pictures were done and the main events were over and the crowd had started to dissipate, Renjun finally walked over to the artwork to observe it up close.

Honestly speaking, watching the work with his own two eyes left no doubt in his mind that this artist deserved to be spotlighted like this. This work was in a league of its own. Watching it makes Renjun smile; because looking at it makes him think back to a few months ago when he was sitting in Kim Doyoung’s office, thinking of himself as some sort of a big shot. But the truth is, there was no way he had that caliber then, and there is no way he has that caliber now, though he was sure as hell working on it.

“This is the piece I lost the bid on.” Renjun hears a voice and he turns around to see Zhong Chenle’s father observing the art with him. Renjun bows politely and smiles under his mask,

“I mean, this is a remarkable piece. You have good taste.” Renjun acknowledges.

“What about you? Why isn’t any of your artwork displayed here?” he asks and for a while, Renjun smiles a bit nostalgically. He could’ve been here, had he made something for the Annuale. Had he just selfishly taken that shot. Then again, there would’ve been no real guarantees. Because Kim Doyoung was pretty particular in the people he chose, whether they were recommended by his family or not. Working with him closely in the last couple of months had taught Renjun that. It had also taught him how underdeveloped his skill was in the real world context.

“I guess I still have a long way to go.” Renjun replies humbly.

“Don’t we all?” Chenle’s father nods, “Are you working here at this establishment?” 

“Um, I… I suppose I am. I am Kim Doyoung’s apprentice. He is my mentor.” Renjun nods.

“So I might see your work here soon enough, eh?” Renjun assumes the kind man is smiling under his mask because his eyes seem to be making the same shape as Chenle’s do when he smiles. So Renjun grins back.

“I mean… if I work really hard, I might get to shoot my shot in the next Midnight Arthouse Annuale.” Renjun fantasizes.

“Or maybe you’d get lucky like this young artist,” he points his chin towards the artwork.

Renjun smiles, “I would credit her luck, too if I hadn’t seen her work. But her talent is… it kinda speaks for itself.”

“Oh, no, you should definitely credit her luck. Talent isn’t enough. The stars have to align. Luck, talent, the right place, the right time. It all has to come together.” he says nodding. 

Renjun considers his words. They seem to be coming from the wisdom of experience. 

What if Renjun hadn’t received the phone call about his grandma back then? Well, then he probably would’ve made something lackluster and gotten rejected. Working with Kim Doyoung has taught him as much. It didn’t matter who had put a word in for him. At the end of the day, his work had to be outclass.

What if he had received the phone call and then still had enough time to submit something for the Annuale? Then he still probably wouldn’t have because… well, because of you.

What if he had gone ahead, regardless of you or his grandma and just made something and submitted it? Then he still would’ve been rejected. Because the truth of the matter is, he just didn’t have the caliber that artists associated with Midnight Arthouse did.

In that sense, Renjun supposes everything was in fact happening at the right place and right time now. Doyoung was mentoring him and he was getting better by the day. The stars were aligning for him. He knew it in his heart.

“Then I would wish that it all comes together for me, too.” Renjun says.

“When it does, young man, I’ll be the first one to bid on your work.” he says and Renjun doesn’t even have the time to react when he feels a presence breeze in his direction and invade his personal space.

Renjun doesn’t even have to look up to know who it is. He can tell by the way this body fits perfectly into his side. He can tell by how naturally his own body responds and just puts his arm around it’s waist.

“Oh man, I missed all of it, didn’t I?” you lament, as you loop your arms around his neck from the side instead of a hello.

“Not all of it. The guys just left but your brother and his friends are still here. Besides, you had work.” Renjun turns his head and looks into your eyes to reassure you. “Y/N, this is Chenle’s father.”

“Oh, hello!” you say cheerfully and respectfully bow and give you greetings. “It is so nice to meet you. Chenle looks just like you!”

“Yes, I’ve been told I’m a more handsome version of him,” he smiles then turns to Renjun, “And who might this young lady be?”

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N. She goes to NCTU with us.” Renjun introduces you and you bow again. Oh, the thrill he got every time he got to introduce you as his girlfriend. Fuck, he’s pretty sure he’d never tire of it, even if it had just been a few months. The serotonin boost in his veins is strong and he gets the urge to squeeze you and hold you forever.

“Oh, that’s very nice. Come have a meal with us before we have to catch a plane back home, okay?” Chenle’s father invites the two of you. 

“Oh, I would love to!” you say in your chipper tone before your eyes start darting around “I’m going to have to excuse myself for a little bit, I just wanna say hi to my brother.” you say and you politely bow before you start moving away.

“Babe, hang on…” Renjun says, holding you back by your hand. He brings his fingers delicately to the bridge of your nose and softly pinches down the mask over it so it sits more snugly on you. “There, it’s much safer now.” Renjun nods and watches the affectionate smile your eyes give before you move away. You looked so pretty today, even if you were just coming back from a four-hour internship. You were easily the most beautiful girl in this room, though Renjun suspected that you’d be the most beautiful girl in any room you entered. 

Albeit sometimes, Renjun had to wonder if your talent or your beauty was greater. Because you had become the only junior in NCTU to land an internship at the SMK Trainee Drive. And now that you were a senior, you were somehow managing to keep your grades up alongside it. 

Renjun, on the other hand, would find himself struggling with balancing his apprenticeship with his school work. So he knew firsthand how your discipline was something else altogether. Recently though, he had experienced a rise in his grades because you had been taking him on so many study dates that your organizational skills and motivation had started to rub off on him.

Renjun walks around the studio and the party and feels like it’s been too long till you’re finally back by his side. 

“Love in the Time of Corona,” you read the title of an art piece displayed in front of you. “That was supposed to be our thing.”

Renjun laughs and has no qualms in looping his arms around your waist and finally pulling you into himself.

“I guess we should’ve realized then how un-novel the idea would become in a few months.” he comments. 

“Un-novel is not a word, Huang Renjun.” you narrow your eyes at him.

Renjun laughs. “It is now,” he says and lets out a long exhale, “I missed you today.” he complains, though he looks down at you with warmth.

“Well, you’ve got me now. And you have me for the entire weekend.” you reassure him, your palms on his chest.

“Mhmm.” Renjun smiles and he wants to lean in to kiss you. But Kim Doyoung specifically had people assigned to walk around and make sure that everyone had their masks on when inside. “Also, we already have a thing.” he reminds you and winks.

You laugh, and say “I guess we do,” then let out a happy sigh as your eyes avert from his for a moment, taking in your surroundings. “Our Couple Thing should give you some ideas on what you can make when your work is displayed here in the 2022 Annuale. I won’t be late to that, I promise. I’ll take a day off from everything else in my life.”

Renjun's heart grows warmer still, and he’s sure his eyes reflect what he feels, “How can you be so sure my work will be displayed in the 2022 Annuale?”

“I don’t know, Huang Renjun. I just have a feeling about you.” you say and Renjun can see you smile even if your lips are covered by a mask. Your eyes always smiled before your mouth did, anyway.

“Y/N L/N, I have a feeling about you, too.” he retorts. 

“And what feeling would that be?” you raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a secret.” he says, but now he sees your pout, even if he can’t see your mouth because your cheeks have puffed up over the mask. It makes him laugh.

“You’re no fun.” you protest.

“I’ll tell you once we get out of here.” Renjun offers.

“Well, I’m ready to leave.” you jut your chin up. Renjun grins and offers you his arm. You grab it with your entire body and the two of you start walking out together.

You had plans for the weekend, after all. And Renjun was determined to keep you all to himself for once, with no one else demanding your time. Not your internship, not your assignments, not any of your friends, and especially not Lee fucking Donghyuck. He was finally going to take you away where it could just be you and him and nobody else.

This moment felt way too surreal to Renjun.

The campfire had simmered down from a glorious roar to a comfortable burn, giving off just enough heat in the cool of an early winter evening. The sky was in it’s fading moments, where the pink of the light was slowly turning to violets and the violets were slowly merging into darks. 

Renjun remembered suggesting to you all that time ago that maybe you could go somewhere together. But now that he was here, he hadn’t imagined that the moment would feel as surreal as it did. 

Because now the two of you are sitting in front of your tent by the fire, entwined in one another. You’re sitting between his legs, arms around his neck, nuzzling your cheek inside his padded jacket while he supports your head on his arm and kisses you.

He’s holding you in his arms and kissing you and everything seems so perfect that for a moment, he has to pull away to watch your face and wonder if all of this was real. And though there is a gentle smile on your face, you’re not opening your eyes much. Because you know full well that Renjun’s lips would be back on yours in no time. So you play with his hair as they fall to his forehead and when he kisses you again, you press up into him so he would wrap his arms around you and hold you tighter. He does and he rubs his hands up and down your back and attempts to close his jacket around you.

“Are you cold?” he asks lovingly. You shake your head.

“No. I just want to crawl inside you.” you say, like it’s the most logical thing to be said.

“Creepy.” Renjun remarks but holds you closer still.

“You should be happy you haven’t seen my collection of your hair clippings.” you quip as you nip into the skin of his neck.

“Oh, sweet. That rivals all your used tissues I’ve kept in my shrine at home.”

“Aww, you shouldn’t have.” you coo at him and then lean up to kiss him some more and he laughs. But soon, he pushes the arm that you were using like a pillow up so your face would be closer to his and he could kiss you as deeply as he was truly craving. 

The two of you keep kissing like that till the sky is dark. It was an odd sort of trance, being so lost in one another that neither of you cared about what time it was or how long you had been sitting here, wrapped up in one another. Your phones were zipped away in your bags and you hadn’t checked them even once since you had parked your camping van and set up your tent. It was a slow, peaceful sort of bliss, just sitting by the fire and kissing and kissing with nothing else on your minds but being here like this with one another.

“Renjun?” you say, your voice sounding like it was returning from a deep thought.

“Hmm?” Renjun asks as he combs your hair away from your pretty face.

“You know, I learnt today that a cactus can live anywhere between 10 and 200 years.” you tell him, idly tracing the birthmark on the back of his hand.

Renjun leans in and presses long into your lips. “Yeah?” he replies and watches your face. It seemed hazily focused, like it was trying to catch onto a faraway thought.

“I also learnt that it can take up to 30 years for a cactus to bear flowers.” you say in an introspective, wistful tone.

Renjun looks away to hide his smile. Oh God, you were so cute. “Yeah?” he says again, but it’s getting more and more difficult to keep a serious face.

“Sometimes, a cactus doesn’t flower at all.” you say and then you turn your head to look at him like you’ve resurfaced from your thoughts and are now in the moment. Renjun’s grin grows wider. “Renjunnn…” you whine and so he has no choice but to tenderly hold your cheeks in his palms and stroke your hair.

“What?” he chuckles.

“You said you’d think you’re worthy of my forgiveness when the cactus bears flowers.” you whine again and Renjun has to plant a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Is that what I said?” he chuckles some more and then leans in to kiss the anxious realization away from your lips. 

“Renjun.” you pout and Renjun laughs and takes his beautiful, whiny, kindhearted girlfriend in his arms and hopes that his hold could chase away all the worries from her pretty, brilliant mind.

He kisses you because his heart can’t bear it any longer. How did he manage to hold a heart like yours in his hand?

Renjun feels an indescribable amount of happiness. Like he wasn’t sure that you were really here with him, in his arms, all for him to hold, with no worry or burden afflicting him. The happiness is so immense and so incredible and so heavy that for a moment, he feels it suffocating him. He wonders if he deserved this kind of happiness.

But right in the next moment, he stops himself. He knew how easy it was to relapse into those tempting, lonesome thoughts. But if there was anything that therapy was teaching him, it was that of course he deserved happiness. 

Though right now, holding you in his arms, this happiness was choking him. He felt like his heart was swelling and pressing against his lungs and his chest couldn’t bear it and he could no longer breathe. 

“Y/N…” he exhales, holding you back so he can look at your face and you could look up into his. He pauses to gather another breath. Then, he just says it. “I love you.”

And doing so does the trick. He feels his chest slowly getting lighter, because this is what it had been bursting with. Now, he’s told you. Now, it can be unburdened.

You look up at him and there is nothing but a sparkle in your eye, and tenderness in your smile. For a while, you say nothing, just looking upon his eyes like that. “Thank you.” you finally whisper back at him.

Renjun pauses for a moment. But then, he relaxes. This was okay. You didn’t have to say it back right away. Renjun was ready to give you as much time as you needed. So he presses his lips into your forehead once again till he feels you laughing against him. He pulls back in confusion and you grab at the lapel of his parka.

“Huang Renjun…” you say and he looks back at you with uncertainty, “... I love you, too.”

And Renjun can’t help it if he kisses you too hard. He can’t help it that he’s squeezing you too tight. He wouldn’t care if the night brightens back into morning and the morning fades back into night. He was going to hold you just like this for the rest of his life. 

So he lays you down and kisses you deeper, like he wanted to make up for all the time he had lost. All the time in his life when he hadn’t known you. All the time he had known you and didn’t let himself have you. He was going to make up for it all. And as he zips the tent up and shields you from the rest of the world, he wonders if he could spend all of his days just like this. Holding you and loving you and knowing that you loved him back; and if he could, today was a damn good day to start.

The fire slows to a simmer till all that’s left are embers that keep being carried away by the breeze. But the two of you remain inside, in your own world, happy that you had found one another, happy that you could finally have one another. Happy that you could hold one another and say that you loved each other and have nothing in the world hold you back, not now, not ever.

You were Y/N and Renjun, Renjun and Y/N, two names that were forever intertwined because that’s how people would call you now. You were the couple that belonged so perfectly with one another that people would wonder if you’d been together for years. And any time someone with a burning curiosity would come up to you and ask,

“So, where did you guys meet?” you would just look at one another, smile and say, “Well, we met in online class.”

~THE END

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[enjennie]

In The Limelight [chenle x reader]

Summary: Tutoring the CEO’s son, when you’re barely interested in business. And falling for him, when you knew nothing about love.

Genre: Fluff. Rich kid!Chenle Tutor!Reader

Warnings: None

a/n: not proofread! I’ve been in a slump lately ☹ my works haven’t been satisfying me but I hope you enjoy this! btw omg this is a reupload bc the first time... somehow, the paragraphs were jumbled up? 

 “Y/N, there are flowers on your desk,” your classmate gestures behind them to the classroom you were headed to before quickly passing by. You could only nod, a little taken aback by the sudden information you received. Flowers? As far as you know, Valentine’s had passed, so has white day and it’s definitely not your birthday.

But as you enter your classroom, the bundle of flowers catching your eyes, you knew one thing for sure was from who it was. As you approach your desk, you lift the thoughtful gift and inspect the small card attached to the string that tied it beautifully together. ZCH, it read in cursive.

 “How was your day?” Chenle’s voice can be heard from the other line, the smile on his face almost something you can hear along with it.

“It was great! Thank you for the flowers, by the way. They’re delightful,” you beamed, eyes landing at the arrangement that now sat on your vanity. Chenle chuckles, his laughter sending serotonin to run through your body.

“Not a problem, I’m glad you like them,”

“Though I’d appreciate if you gave them to me yourself,” you cheekily continued. Chenle could only smile, his face softening at your request. It was a simple request. Yet, he couldn’t do it.

When you notice the silence that follow, you immediately regret what you said. You desperately try to backtrack, sputtering out words. “Well- I mean-, It’s fine- Thank you, still! I love them,”

Chenle hums, “I know. Don’t worry. You’ll wait though… right? It won’t be long,”

You plant your feet to your carpeted floor and nod, even if he can’t see you. “Of course, Lele,”

 Zhong Chenle is the son of the most respected CEO of one of the biggest corporations in Shanghai the entire world. Chenle was the next in line to the company. After his brother had expressed how the business world didn’t interest him, the responsibility immediately fell into Chenle’s hands. And even if music was his love and calling, he had to let it go as to not disappoint his father.

Chenle had accepted it some time ago, going to school only for the degree so he could be eligible to own the business. He accepted the fact that he was going to be living the life his father made for him, not one he made for himself and it was the hardest pill to swallow. But things changed when he met you. There was more purpose to the things he does, it wasn’t just for nothing. Life had gone from monochromatic to colorful.

 “Miss, Y/N. Mr. Zhong just moved and he has to take this class to pass the semester. I trust you can fill him in with our module? Mr. Zhong, this is Miss. Y/N, she scored the highest during midterms,” your world economics professor had marched towards you after class, a tall boy following behind her. He looked just as oblivious as she did, to the sudden weight and pressure being put on you.

You merely nod and say a simple hello, not being able to say anything else. It wasn’t a question, this was a demand. Jeez if I was gonna teach your student I should get a portion of your pay. You thought bitterly. At the time, you were struggling to juggle a part-time job at a café while also maintaining your grades to keep your scholarship.

When your professor left you two, the boy kept his hands buried in his pockets. His clothes were semi-casual and his hair was styled nicely. Who the hell moves halfway through the year?

“So, Mr. Zhong-“ you take your books into your arms and lazily sling your bag over your shoulder, heading towards the door with him trailing behind you.

“Chenle-, You can call me Chenle,” he finally spoke, startling you a little with how cool and soft his voice is as opposed to his striking visual that intimidated you at first.

“Nice to meet you, Chenle,” you give him a smile.

You were gonna be around this guy for who knows how long, might as well try to be his friend. Maybe it’ll make the teaching less of a chore.

  “Wrong,” you huffed, marking his essay and adding in annotations. “Chenle, remember there is a specific way to start these essays and that’s by defining the terms you’re using,”

The boy sat opposite of you, arms crossed and back against the couch comfortably. You were in a café. The café you worked in, to be precise. Your schedule today overlapped with Chenle’s and as much as you didn’t want him to see you slaving around, you also couldn’t miss this paycheck at the café. You gave him an essay to write just to check on his phrasing and structure and left to buss some tables and serve orders. But when you came back, Chenle barely wrote anything and could care less about it.

“Can we not study today?” he whined.

You and Chenle have been meeting each other for a month now, and you’d soon learned about the type of boy he is, the life he led. In ways you didn’t expect to.

 The first time you found out about Chenle’s reputation was through the newspaper. No, not the school newspaper. Not even the local newspaper. But on the Wallstreet Journal, when you had to grab material from any recent article for a class. Chenle’s name floated along with the words ‘Young entrepreneur’ and their company’s name. You gasped so loud you had to excuse yourself from the library and leave in a hurry. That afternoon you smacked him on the shoulder with your thick world econ textbook.

“You’re from a family of business corporates and you’re learning world economics from someone who crammed the exam?” you exclaimed. He stared at you blankly, book in hand and pen in the other.

“And you don’t pay me!” you added. The fact that you’ve been tutoring someone as rich as Chenle just didn’t make sense to you. Why not go to a professional? Instead, he was here with a sleep deprived college student who sometimes mixes up business terms just because she couldn’t care any less. World Economics was a mandatory for you. You studied to pass, sadly.

“I could start paying you, name the price,” he said easily. But you shook your head.

“I didn’t mean it that way, sorry. I actually don’t care about the money,” You led him to the picnic bench with the table outside school grounds and propped your book on it along with your bag before taking out your bento box. “Just blows my mind how you won’t just pay for the classes. I don’t teach that well-” you continue.

“I like you, though,” Chenle calmly interjects. You look up at the boy, movements being halted by his bold statement.

“Pardon?” you felt the need to have him clarify what he said.  The boy leaned across the table, over your textbooks and notes. “I like you,” Chenle repeated himself, but the impact it had on you was just as powerful and hit you hard. Your heart was doing somersaults.

Chenle’s eyes grew thin as he smiled, backing away from you and sitting back down.

“So, chapter 12,” he starts flipping his book nonchalantly, leaving you out of breath with a heart hammering in your chest.

  “What do you mean not study today? You have an upcoming quiz with Mr. Byun this Friday and mind you, that man searches for wrongs, not rights,” you raised a finger at him, shaking it matter-of-factly.

“No, let me help you. Do you usually run the café on your own?” he closes the book and takes his essay from your hand. You’re left slack jawed.

“No. I- Johnny couldn’t come in today,” you explained. Suddenly, you were stammering as if explaining to your boss. At first, you were doubting if it was the same Chenle you were reading about in the articles. The boy you were tutoring didn’t come off as someone who would be running corporates and buying stocks or whatever. He was more laid back and relaxed. Aside from the way he dressed, nothing gave it away that he was indeed the CEO’s son. But there were times where you got a dominant feel from him. Times when he stood with much authority and didn’t accept no for an answer. In those moments, you realize how Chenle’s presence alone demanded respect.

Soon enough, you found yourself behind the counter with Chenle beside you tying the apron to himself. He looked cute, somehow. The way he smiled at customers and tried giving them their recommendations set butterflies run free in your stomach, you almost swooned. He didn’t get much studying done that day, but you surely did. You learned the fact that you falling slowly but surely with Zhong Chenle.

  There were two chapters you’re left to cover. In the short month and a half, you managed to teach Chenle six month’s worth of topics. Seeing him every other day made Chenle a familiar face to see around. Of course, you never actually got to see him around campus when you weren’t tutoring him. It left you wondering if you were actually teaching a ghost. But all doubts went away when the girls in your class started whispering about the cute boy waiting outside class. You quickly found out it was Chenle who they were talking about, and he was there for you. It was safe to say he wasn’t a ghost and is in fact real.

Carrying his book bag, he was stood against the wall with reading material under his arm.

“Chenle, we don’t have a schedule today,” you walk up to him, trying to avoid the dozen pairs of eyes that watched you. Chenle nodded, “Sorry, I won’t be here tomorrow. My father is bringing me on a business trip,” he states.

It wasn’t new for you to hear this coming from Chenle. Just the other week, his father brought him along to Japan for a company deal and Chenle came back with a little keychain souvenir for you. The same keychain dangled from your bag now as you both walked to the exit of the building. “Are you free?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t bring my book with me tod-“ you begin searching in your bag, even if you knew it wasn’t there. You were just trying to ignore the way his question made your heart jump.

“I mean… for dinner. Are you free for dinner?” he places a gentle hand on yours, stopping you from looking further in your bag. Chenle’s bold movements sometimes took him by surprise as well. He quickly retracts his hand, shoving it in his pockets. You let go of your bag, placing your hands on either side of you.

“Why?” you squinted at him suspiciously.

Chenle’s smile is small, but doesn’t go unnoticed by you as he turns his head towards his car then back down at you. “Listen, you don’t have to overanalyze this. I just want to treat you,”

  Chenle had thought about it a hundred times or more, before finally making a decision. Although you’ve been seeing each other in cafes and libraries for some time now, he didn’t want to consider those as dates. Sure, it gave him time to admire you up close and get to know you but he wanted you to know his true intentions. The only problem was boy, was he a wuss. And were you oh so dense!

Despite the subtle and not so subtle hints he’s given you, you remained clueless about his feelings. Unsure, confused and just downright oblivious. From the way he looked at you to how he vocally told you he liked you. You shoved everything under the rug, afraid that this boy was just toying around with you and having a laugh. He found it cute.

 It didn’t matter that you were in your school clothes, carrying about three thick books in your shoulder bag. He thought you looked stunning. You ate at a pizzeria just in town and he expressed how it tasted just like pizza from Italy. You said you wouldn’t know the difference since you’ve never been, and had a laugh about it.

The walk from his car to your apartment wasn’t that far, it’s just that he had to park a little further since there was no more space left in front. As you walked together, you noticed how the vibe and atmosphere between you two that developed as the night deepened, was different. More lax, comfortable. Like friends? You were both silent, until Chenle piped up.

“I lied, I didn’t just want to treat you,” he muttered, looking into the distance of your quiet street.

You turn your face towards him and you catch a glimpse of his face in the moonlight before looking away. He’d taken your bag from you and had it around his shoulder now. Him in his white polo shirt and brown suit jacket. He was always dressed like he was attending some kind of formal event. That’s Chenle for you. Mr. CEO’s son.

“Then?” you prompted him to continue.

Chenle averts his attention towards you as you finally reached the front of your apartment. You both stop walking, facing each other with the moon as your spotlight. You look at him from the light of the moon, it illuminated Chenle’s features perfectly. You would be able to inspect him when he studied, but each look at him made you breathless every time you had to look away. Much like right now.

“I wanted to take you out. Like, on a date,” Chenle confesses.

You could never wrap your head around how bold Chenle could be. Always leaving you flustered after saying such things, this boy was your weakness. But you didn’t give in. At least, you tried not to.

“Oh,” was your only response as you put your hands together, looking up at the tall boy. You hoped it wasn’t obvious that heat was rushing to your cheeks and ears by now. You could practically feel your blood flowing through your body, making you feel warm all over. “It was fun, I enjoyed it,” you shyly admit.

Chenle takes a step forward, raising his hand to palm your cheek gently. It’s the first time he’s ever gotten this close. “But I’m not sure you’re ready for my world yet,” his voice is lower, cool. Like wind.

You part your lips slightly, willing yourself to breathe. Your breath is unstable, shaky. This time, you take a step forward. “Are you underestimating me?” You don’t know where the surge of confidence came from, but you were thankful for it. The look of surprise is quickly melted into amusement as this was definitely the first time you ever made the second move to the dozens of times he’d left you flustered.

Chenle dips his head down close to your face. Eyes trained on each other, you tried to get yourself to breathe. He looked alluring, and you watch his eyes drop to your lips. Your head had become blank, nothing in mind. Just him. Chenle, and nothing else. His calm eyes, button nose and plump lips that you so very badly wanted to press against yours. “Are you sure?” he whispers.

You close the space between you and Chenle, lining your lips with his and connecting them together. The sensation almost sending you on your knees, you grab onto his shoulder for support and he holds you up by the waist, swiftly wrapping his strong arms around you. It felt like such a big relief, you almost sighed.

When you pulled away, Chenle’s smile comes into view as you fluttered your eyes open. He places his hand at the back of his head and scratches, suddenly becoming shy. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“You’re something else,” you giggle, smacking his arm before snatching your bag from his shoulder and turning on your heel to leave. You feel his hand against yours, forcing you to stop. “I’ll see you after my trip?” he asks.

“Same time… for class,” you reply, looking back at him with a cheeky smile. Chenle lets your hand go, a smitten smile on his face and a warm feeling in his chest. Zhong Chenle wished things were simpler. He wanted to give you the world.

 “It’s just a black tie party and my dad’s forcing me to come with a date,” he fixes himself in the mirror. He looked handsome, as always. In an all-black suit that fit him perfectly. Dressed like he had someplace to be, people to meet.

You sat on your bed behind him, arms folded and face scrunched up into a frown. A date. Probably someone from a rich family, better than you, his future spouse. They’d have perfect little babies together. All these bitter thoughts were flooding in your brain. When he notices your unusual quietness, Chenle turns to face you and gives you a goofy smile.

“What’s on your mind?” he approaches the bed, placing either hands on the side of you and leaning in close. Chenle could tell when you lied and knew exactly how to make you crack. You pull your knees to yourself and don’t bother hiding the scowl forming on your face. You couldn’t do anything about it. After several talks with Chenle, he explained how much pressure he gets from the media and his family. How dating even became a hassle because of how the pressure would then be shared with his partner.

For years, it wasn’t a problem. He didn’t find anyone that sparked his interest, and only had meaningless one night stands. He was fine with it, really. But all of that changed when he met you. For once, he wanted to go after something he loved. Not let it go, unlike what he did with his own passion for the sake of his father’s dream and business.

You shook your head, ridding the thoughts in your head and throwing them out. “Nothing. I know it’s just business. Message me when you get home?” you didn’t need to ask, but you still do. Chenle always kept you updated, whether if it was how the party he’s in has a chocolate fountain or if the bathrooms have automatic toilets. It was always bizarre hearing about his stories and taking a peek of what his world is like. The world of corporates. You weren’t ready for it, and Chenle knew.

 The secrecy of your relationship didn’t last very long, soon enough it’s got media questioning who Chenle was seeing and your status. After a few run-ins with the paparazzi, you both decided it would be best if your meetups were more discreet. Luckily, the cameras hadn’t captured your face yet, but it was only a matter of time until they did.

To top it all off, the news had spread across campus. Girls left and right claiming they were the one dating Chenle, it didn’t bother you too much. You had a scholarship to keep and a job to go to. Sometimes, you’d find a single rose and a letter waiting for you in class, or at the café. Of course, you and Chenle had wrapped up the tutorial classes and he was able to pass the exam. He was one step closer to his degree, but happy wasn’t the word to describe him.

He yearned to be with you, have you in his arms and spend hours together just like you used to before things got complicated. Chenle grew lonely without your presence as months passed. Nonetheless, you hung onto the string of hope that maybe one day people wouldn’t care so much. That you could take all the criticism, the heat.

 It was around 2am when your phone rang, disturbing your slumber. It was a Friday night and you took it upon yourself to catch up on some sleep after the horrendous exam week you just faced. Chenle had said goodnight hours ago. You wondered who could be calling at such an ungodly hour.

You pick up without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” Chenle’s voice filled your ear. Your eyes snap open and you shot up from your bed, pulling the phone away from your ear. Sure enough, it was him. Lele, with a little heart beside the name.

“Hey, are you alright?” You ask worriedly. His voice sounded slow and there was rustling behind him.

Chenle lets out a groan, and your heartbeat picks up its pace. You knew better than to think Chenle would cheat, but it was definitely worrying hearing this without any idea what was going on. “I miss you,” he breathed, voice raspy and low. You couldn’t keep the smile from appearing on your face. In the darkness of your room, your heart swelled with joy. “I miss you too, Chenle,” you whispered back.

Distinct voices come through the line, and you make it out to be Jeno and Jaemin. They’re bickering and you hear a guitar in the mix. “We’ll leave you here, Chenle,” Jaemin calls to his friend before you hear a door close.

“Why did you call?” you ask but you were happy that he did.

“Because I can’t be there with you. Even if it’s all I want right now,” he confessed. Your smile faltered and a hint of sadness falls upon your face as he continues. He was obviously drunk, but Chenle has always been really honest because he couldn’t lie. These days however, you haven’t had the time to talk much and you knew there was a lot on his mind. It hurt to know that it’s been this, and you couldn’t do much about it. “I just want to tell everyone about us. Screw what they think, YN. You’re perfect to me,”

Hearing his words gave you a glimmer of hope. You wished he was right, you wished you could believe it.

“Chenle-“ you sighed. “I want that too,”

There was a moment of silence before his voice came through again and you thought he’d passed out drunk already. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve sacrificed so much for my father, but you’re not going to be one of them,”

His words brought the smile back to your face, tears welling up in your eyes from how happy you were to hear them. It seemed at this moment that you could battle anything, because you were with Chenle. Everything would be alright. He was here and you are too, it’s the two of you against the world.

“Tomorrow, let’s make it official,” Chenle proposed.

You bring your hand up to your lips and bite on your nails, now fully awake more than ever. “Okay,” you agreed. Chenle grins, getting up from his bed. “I’m coming over,” you can hear him walking around now, keys jangling and shoes on his wooden floor.

“You can’t drive-“ you hurriedly try to stop him, keeping in mind his state.

“I don’t drive a Tesla for nothing,” he chuckles. “I’ll be there soon,” The outgoing beeping of the call followed afterwards as he ended the call. The realization hit you a moment later.

 The next day, you and Chenle arrived in school together. He stayed the night, carrying a change of clothes in his bag. For someone who was smack drunk, he sure did pack well.

From the moment you stepped out of his car, many students were around to watch. Exchanging whispers and staring, your cheeks set aflame when Chenle pulls you by the arm, your hands connecting between you and threading together naturally. It drew the attention of many onlookers and you chewed on your bottom lip, not used to the attention.

“They’re staring,” you whisper close to him.

“Let them,” He responds. Chenle tilts your head up to meet his gaze before planting a lingering kiss on your lips, confirming people’s already forming suspicions. “You’re my girl, aren’t you?”

[1234-angelika]

Park Picnic

an:Hey y'all! I'm back from my unplanned hiatus and I have been catching up on all the stories I have fallen behind on. So, I have a new Matt fic for y'all. This is the third installment of the Happily Ever After fic for Matt. As always, hope y'all enjoy!

words:1.1k

warnings: mentions of food

summary:"The purpose of our lives is to be happy." -Dalai Lama

masterpost|taglist|have an idea

After Kristy stormed out of the room, the weather outside changed like a bad green screen from a movie, and you couldn’t help yourself; you let out a laugh.

You had a smile on your face, just at the idea of going on a date with Matt. As you walked to the coatroom alongside Matt and the kids, he looked over at you and, noticing the smile on your face, he broke into a broad grin of his own. Packing up the children went as fast as it usually did, meaning not at all. But before you knew it, you were all in the car getting ready to go on the date.

After buckling in the kids, a task in and of itself, you and Matt got into the car. He turned the key in the ignition, and the car roared to life. Turning to face him, you asked,

“So, where are we going?”

“Well since the kids are with us, I was thinking we could grab some food and have a picnic in the park—“

“That sounds lovely.” You tried to respond while he paused but, he just kept going.

“—but if you would rather do something else, we can reschedule….”

He finally stopped talking, and you took a moment to make sure he was actually finished before you answered.

“It’s perfect!” You said wistfully. “I love the idea and, it’s important to include your kids.”

He gave you a soft smile and looked back at his kids before turning back to look at you.

“Is Waffle House okay? That’s the only fast-food David will eat at the moment.”

You nodded, saying, “Wafflehouse it is then.”

Matt drove out of the parking lot, and you guys were on your way. You knew the closest Waffle House was about twenty minutes away on a good day, so you were prepared to keep the kids entertained for the drive. Eight minutes in, and you were right. The kids had already started saying that they were bored and asking if you were there yet. The ride to the drive-thru was full of games of i-spy, kid-friendly trivia (based on cartoons and their favourite characters), and storytelling. The time went quickly, and then, you were at the drive-thru. After collecting the food, Matt parked in the lot and turned to you.

“Do you have a park in mind?”

You thought for a moment before saying, “What about Alum?

“The park not too far from my place?” Matt asked, surprised you even knew about that park.

“Yeah, it’s easier for you then when you need to get home and it’s a beautiful park.”

As you drove through the neighbourhoods, you couldn’t help but notice the vibrant colours and charm coming from the communities. When the car passed his house, you knew you were almost there, and you got a little nervous. You liked Matt a lot and didn’t want to screw it up.

He parked the car under a grove of trees just at the edge of the park, and the two of you got out to help the kids. You set up shop at one of the picnic tables and got them all situated before handing out the food. They ate quickly, and Matt made them wait a few minutes before running off to play. Just as the boys were about to take off, Matt made sure to tell them,

“Jake and David, the two of you are responsible for your sisters. Make sure you stay where I can see you okay?”

To hurry their dad along, the boys grabbed the hands of their sisters before running to the playground. Once you cleaned up the kids’ mess, you finally took a seat at the picnic table. And though your food was cold, you didn’t mind one bit. You were already having a great time. Grabbing the food that was left, you divided it between you and Matt. He walked back to the table and sat down across from you, still keeping an eye on the kids while conversing with you. You guys ate in comfortable silence, occasional conversation drifting in and out effortlessly. Being with Matt was easy. It didn’t feel forced.

Hours went by, and the kids were still playing, and you and Matt were still talking. Once the sun started to go down, it got a little more chilly. You shivered slightly, and Matt, keen eye as always, offered you his jacket. You accepted, and he gently draped it over your shoulders. As happy as the action made you, you couldn’t help but internally roll your eyes at how the cliche move gave you such a serotonin boost. Only a little after that, the girls came back to the table and sat down. Lily, beside you and Chloe beside Matt, leaned against you guys, obviously tired from the long day.

It was only about half an hour later when the boys ran up to the table.

“Daddy, Miss Y/N, can you play?” David asked, looking at Matt. The puppy eyes the boys were sporting were guaranteed to work on Matt. The girls seemed to perk up at this.

You nodded, and just as you were going to answer, your phone started ringing. You frowned at the caller id before answering the boys.

“Daddy can go play. I need to make a call and then I can come okay?”

He nodded his head vigorously and ran back to the playground, siblings in tow. Matt turned to look at you before joining them.

“Are you sure Y/N?” He asked, a little worried about your reaction to the phone call.

“I’m sure. It should be quick and then I’ll come join you guys.”

He gave you one last look before taking off after the kids.

“Matt?” You called out.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning back to look at you.

“This is the best first date I’ve been on.” You said with a smile on your face.

You could just make out the smile on his face in the dusk lighting before he turned back and continued for the playground. You made your phone call, and as you were waiting for the person to answer, you watched them play. And the smile from not long ago made its way back to your face. This was a perfect first date. You couldn’t have asked for anything better.

taglist:@multixfandomwriter

@gspenc @myescapefromthislife

[jungshookz]

plz jealous yoonji drabble for pride month

➺ pairing; min yoonji x reader

➺ genre; *clown nose honk*, roommate!taehyung pre-y/n so get ready to have all of your buttons pushed 

➺ wordcount: 2k

➺ what to expect; “you owe me seven more kisses when you get back.” 

➺ note; this was supposed to be a fun little drabble for pride month but miss yoonji is fashionably late as per usual!!! i’m so sorry for the delay!!!! yoonji follows her own schedule and never picks up any of my calls!!!! also this isn’t really a jealous drabble?? it’s kind of just a yoonji drabble?? but i hope u enjoy it nonetheless

                                   ➽───────────────❥

“vueff how many vrapefs are in my mouf.”

yoonji looks up from her phone when she feels you tap her forearm gently and almost immediately her shoulders droop when she sees your mouth stuffed to the briM with grapes

unfortunately this isn’t anything out of the ordinary

this is just another day of dating a complete idiot of a girlfriend

“someday, you’re going to choke when you do that.” she shakes her head, “and i might not be there to help you fish the grapes out of your throat.”

you roll your eyes before pointing to your mouth, “vueff!”

“what do i get out of this?” yoonji sighs as she props her cheek up against her fist, “besides the pure disappointment of knowing that i’m dating an absolute lunatic?”

“vou vet nuffing. now vueff!” you point to your overstuffed mouth enthusiastically

(there are eight grapes in your mouth)

alright

fine

she’ll play along

only because she knows you’ll keep insisting if she chooses to ignore you

yoonji leans forward to peek into your mouth and scowls when one of them plops out and bounces on the table

you grab it quickly and yoonji doesn’t get the chance to stop you before you shoVe it back into your mouth

“wh- that’s unhygienic, y/n! you don’t know what’s been on this table!” yoonji scolds and grabs her empty water cup before holding it under your mouth, “spit all of them out now before you choke.”

you shake your head stubbornly and yoonji’s right eye twitches

“y/n. now.” she shakes the cup and reaches over to grab your face but you quickly swat her hand away and yoonji resists the urge to stranGLE the crap out of you

“you in’t vueff yet.”

“god, fine- um, i don’t know, seven??”

the grapes plop out of your mouth and into the cup one by one but you keep one in your mouth on purpose before chewing quickly and swallowing (u didn’t think yoonji would notice but she definitely did)

“seven! you were right!” you grin and clap your hands together before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand

yoonji would find that endearing if she wasn’t holding a cup full of your drooly mouth grapes

“so do i get a prize?” she asks sarcastically as she sets the cup down and pushes it off to the side

“i can give you seven kisses for seven grapes.” you suggest as you lean on the table a little more

yoonji smiles slyly and begins to lean in as well, “you and i both know very well there were eight grapes in your mouth. don’t rip me off like that, woman.” she reaches over to take one of your hands in hers and-

“good afternoon, ladies.” the two of you turn to look up at whoever it is that decided noW would be a good time to interrupt and you force a friendly smile on your face when you see who it is

“taehyung! hi. can i help you with something?” you pull away from yoonji so that you can turn to look up at him and she lets out a little huff

she was about to get a boost of serotonin and it was just riPPED away from her because of whoever this guy is

“nah, nah. i just wanted to come over here and like, thank you for lending me a pencil in class the other day.” taehyung lets out a sigh before crossing his arms, “it was really cool of you to do that.” 

you raise a brow when you notice him flexing a little bit

he’s really trying

you can see the effort being exuded through his face

…he actually looks like he’s slightly constipated 

“oh! well… no problem! i’m always here to lend a hand.” you chirp before pressing your lips together

a moment of silence ticks by and you glance over at yoonji to see her glaring up at taehyung

“so did you need anything else?” you clear your throat before reaching up to scratch behind your ear

this is getting a little awkward and you’d just like to give your girlfriend the eight kisses she deserves without an audience

“well, yeah.” taehyung pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “actually, this is probably going to sound so crazy, but... i was wondering if maybe you wanted to, like… come over to my place sometime.”

…?

what?

what is happening right now?

“to… to do wha- why would i want to go over to your place?” you narrow your eyes suspiciously and tilt your head

“well… you know.”

you know?

you do?

…

OH

ohhhhhhh

oh.

well, this is going to be awkward.

“what on god’s good green earth is happening?” yoonji asks under her breath and you resist to urge to laugh at the look of complete bewilderment on her face, “am i- does he see me? am i here right now?” she reaches down to pinch her own arm

“yeah. you know.” taehyung’s right eye drops in a sleazy wink and you feel your stomach turn, “i’m a good samaritan, you know? always happy to return favours.”

is this guy for real????

you lend him a pencil ONE time and suddenly he thinks that means you’re willing to sleep with him????

“well, uh, you know- you don’t have to return any favours. i mean, it was just a pencil!” you clear your throat, “really. it’s fine. next time, you can just lend me a pencil and we can call it even that way!”

“but, like-“ taehyung leans forward to rest both his palms on the surface of the table, “i’m really hot. and you’re pretty hot. so… think of this as us doing god a favour.”

“i actually spoke to god this morning and i can confirm that he does not see this as a favour whatsoever.” yoonji mutters, “in fact, i’m pretty sure it’s one of the seven sins-“

“miss, please,” taehyung interrupts yoonji by holding a finger out at her, “i’m sure you’re very nice and all but you’re not really my type. thank you, though.”

what the-

your eyes widen a little when he flicks his wrist at her before turning back to look at you

first of all he’s crazy because yoonji is literally everyone’s type

and second of all oOp-

“oh my goodness, i’m not?” yoonji gasps as she holds her hand over her mouth, “well, thank frickin’ god i’m not-“

“anyways, i’m… well, for lack of a better term, i guess i’m flattered by your offer…? but i’m actually in a relationship, so… no, i will not be going over to your place.” you shrug, “but i’m happy to continue to lend you pencils if you ever forget to bring one to class again.”

“…wait, who are you dating?” taehyung frowns, “is he, like, would he be down to let you off the hook this one time?”

you open your mouth to speak but yoonji holds a hand out before whiPPing her head around to finally look at taehyung for the first time, “what sewer did your slimy ass crawl out o-“

“the person i’m dating is literally right here.” you cross your arms before leaning back against your chair, “like, right here.”

taehyung pauses and you can practically hear the gears in his head working overtime in an effort to help him understand what you’re saying

and then his eyes soften as he reaches up to place a hand over his chest, “aw, baby… i’m flattered, but i’m really not a relationship kind of guy-“

oh my god

how THICK is his skull?!??

“no, no i- i don’t mean you, taehyung. that wasn’t me asking you to go steady-“ you point to yoonji who looks like she’s having the time of her life listening to all the idiotic things coming out of taehyung’s mouth, “i’m dating her. her name is yoonji. she is my girlfriend. i am dating yoonji. yoonji is my girlfriend.”

taehyung turns to look over at yoonji and she gives him a little wave

what?

you’re dating her?

but…

what????

“…but you dated jungkook last year?” taehyung reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, “so how… is this possible…?”

yoonji resists the urge to let out a screech of delight because this is just PURE entertainment

reality tv could never!!!!!

“i mean, this is fantastic!” yoonji snorts, “on this day, society has somehow progressed backwards-“

“that- yes, that’s true!” you chuckle awkwardly, “i… unfortunately, i was dating jungkook for a short period of time. but… i’m not dating him anymore! again, i’m dating-“

“me! she’s dating me.” yoonji chimes in and smiles sweetly when taehyung looks over at her like she’s a three-headed turtle

“but if you dated jungkook, who’s a guy… and now you’re dating yoongi-“

“-yoonji-“

“-who’s a girl… then… like… so you’re… gay? jungkook turned you gay??”

okay

well

you can confirm that there are actually no gears in taehyung’s noggin

it’s just… it’s all dust and cobwebs up there, you think.

“jungkook didn’t turn me g-“ you pause, “well, maybe a little- look, uh, the point is, i’m saying no to you because i have a girlfriend.”

“wait, so like-“ taehyung looks around quickly before leaning in again, “is this you guys lowkey inviting me for a threesome? because i’d be down even though your friend’s kind of scary-“

“you know what, i’m going to go and get a snack from the vending machine!” your chair screeches against the floor as you stand up quickly, “on behalf of you, i’m terminating this conversation. yoonji, you want anything?” you look over at her as you rummage through your pockets for some loose change

“all good, baby.” yoongi shakes her head as she continues to stare up at taehyung

it’s just so… fascinating…

the complete lack of common sense and basic awareness is truly mind-boggling!

she’d love to conduct some experiments on this doofus just to see what’s going on up there

“alright, well-“ you lean over the table and purse your lips

yoonji perks up before leaning in to give you a sweet little kiss, “you owe me seven more kisses when you get back.”

“nuh-uh, it’s six-!” you tease as you walk away from the table, “six!!!”

“seven!!!!”

the fond smile drops from yoonji’s face when she turns back to see taehyung still standing there looking like he’s trying to figure out the quadratic formula in his head

yoonji stares up at taehyung smugly when he looks down at her with a sad little frown, “that’s right. i’m the one who’s taking her home tonight. just let that settle in, little buddy.”  

“i just… don’t… she said no because…”

yoonji reaches over to grab your cup of drooly mouth grapes before raising it up for taehyung, “…grape? might make you feel better.”

an evil smile twitches at the corner of her mouth when taehyung pops one into his mouth

“yeah. eat the drooly grapes, pencil boy.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[tobesobri]

𝓦elcome to a brand new story from me that I never thought I would be posting but here we are! This chapter is very much introductory, which is like obvious being the first chapter but tbh I don’t really do a lot of introducing characters right off the bat in a descriptive way often so this was new for me! Also, I have an old taglist from a while ago when I was originally going to post this, but I don’t want to randomly tag people who may no longer be interested SO if you’d like to be included on a taglist for upcoming chapters please let me know! Thank you! 

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h​ for editing ❤️

Chapter One: Where Happiness Begins (5.4k)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

There was something very different when she woke that Saturday morning. Maybe her breath smelled a little worse than normal. Maybe the sun shined a little brighter through her curtains than it was supposed to...

Maybe there was someone in her bed who didn’t belong there. 

“Oh my god.”

Friday night was not unlike every other night that week. There was an endless bag of chips she dug her Hot Cheeto dust covered fingers into and an over-watched series on Netflix open on her laptop in front of her. And when she wasn’t distracted by Sam and Dean Winchester, she was bawling her eyes out under the comfort of her thrifted quilt, staining her poor mismatched pillowcases.

Just like any given night.

And this Friday was no different. At least not until there was a knock on her door.

By the time she dried her face, it was almost completely unnoticeable she’d just been buried in hysterics only seconds ago.

“Harry’s coming over. You want anything from the store?” Will asked, the same Will who stuck them all together in the very beginning of splitting rent on an apartment four different ways.

He was the roommate who paid the most in rent and got the biggest room with his own private bathroom. One of the two roommates who constantly had his significant other over every night to make Y/N’s miserable time even worse. Between Will and Violet’s incessant need to take over the entire living room every weekend, Y/N was bound to end up in her own room alone crying her eyes out for no apparent reason.

Then there was her third roommate, James, who never bothered her because she was lucky to catch a fleeting glimpse of him every other week.

Y/N glanced at the phone he had pressed to his cheek, assuming Harry was on the other end of the line, on hold. Just the mention of his name sucked every sad little tear back into her skull. She didn’t know why, but having Harry around always seemed to do the trick.

Even though she barely spoke a word to him over the course of the last eighteen months she’d known him.

She buried her excitement about Harry coming over and frowned, answering as if she was she couldn’t care less even though... she cared way more than she should. “No.”

And before Will could protest, she shut the door in his face and retreated back to her bed.

Not every night was spent in agonizing spirals of self-pity and dread, but it came and went. Some days were fine. She was happy by the time she went to bed at night and didn’t have nightmares or anxiety that kept her up past her self-proclaimed bedtime. Most days, she ate regularly and went about her nightly routine with a genuine smile on her face. But recently, it had all gone to shit.

And there was no explanation. There never was. She didn’t just break up with a long-term boyfriend. No one called her an ugly bitch on the train home. Her boss didn’t yell at her for the umpteenth time about her inadequacies at work.

She was just... alone. Painfully and tragically alone.

She hated how black and white it was. That she was either happy to be alive or praying for a very large rock to fall on her and end it all. There was never an in-between and it made her feel like all her emotions were made up, like she wasn’t ever truly happy or she was sad over really stupid things.

It was a fucking nightmare.

Another agonizing thirty minutes went by before she heard from Will again. Before she heard more than just her roommate's voice through the thin walls. Before she could literally feel her

brain swell with more serotonin than she’d had in a long time when it was Harry’s voice she heard.

He was like an unusual ray of sunshine. Every time he was over at their apartment, it was like he was some kind of ancient sun god warding off all the evil spirits sitting on her shoulders. Which...she knew was quite strange, but she really couldn’t--nor did she want to--fight off how he made her feel.

Even if he wasn’t an internationally famous pop-sensation, she still couldn’t put her finger on why he made her feel like sunshine and butterflies whenever he was around. Which had been quite often recently on account of his upcoming album needing desperate help from Will.

Okay. She hadn’t heard a damn thing from the album, but the conversations they had about it weren’t always good. It was delayed, apparently, and Harry was in the middle of a massive writing block that led him to an impromptu trip to Barcelona the previous week.

And so now he was back. To work on the album, and, upon Y/N’s quiet arrival into the kitchen of her shared apartment, to pig out on junk food. Will hovered over the kitchen island while they figured out which movie, among a small stack of romantic comedies, to watch first.

Once Harry noticed her, he instantly stood up straight, shoving the last bit of a Kit-Kat bar into his mouth quickly to hide it from her; as if she cared about the Harry Styles munching on chocolate and sweets.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked Will, even though Harry was the only one paying her any attention. She didn’t often make eye contact with him, or even speak to him at all for that matter. But Harry was used to it. He was used to her mumbling and her short phrases. The way whenever he looked at her, she always looked away.

“Pretty Woman or Notting Hill?” Will turned to her finally, holding up both DVD boxes in his hands for Y/N to choose from, completely ignoring her previous question.

“Um... I’ve never seen them.”

Will rolled his eyes and placed the Blu-Ray boxes back down on the granite countertop, “Should’ve known that. You only watch scary shit.”

It was quiet after that for a moment. A long moment of Harry awkwardly glancing between Will and Y/N. Though his glances towards her did not come easily. Just the thought of looking at her was like his body went into fight or flight mode. Fight through the nerves and the butterflies in his stomach or fly the hell out of there.

She was like an unfriendly cat who didn’t seem to like him one bit, and it drove him insane. All his attempts to have a normal conversation with her had been fruitless. She never said more than one word to him at a time. Maybe two, if she was feeling generous. He didn’t get it at all, but he got used to it. Maybe she just didn’t have any room in her life for another person and certainly not for a person like him.

“Well, I vote for Pretty Woman,” Will said, making up everyone’s minds for them, and when he glanced at the other two, they didn’t seem to care. “Pretty Woman it is then. Y/N,” Will glanced at her exclusively while he began gathering snacks and the movie, “are you watching it too?”

“Uh.. no.” She continued into the kitchen, walking behind Harry toward the fridge and making every single nerve in his body light up. He had no idea why she, of all people on the planet he’d come into contact with, made him as nervous as she did. But, here he was. Stepping out of her way and swallowing the pit in his throat when he got a whiff of her all-too-familiar coconut scented shampoo.

And that scent just about made his head spin. It took him right back to the night he’d gotten drunk off his ass after a long day of work. She’d offered her bed to him since he was too tall for their couches, and she had been up late working herself anyways. Most of the night had been forgotten, but he very distinctly remembered stuffing his face into her pillowcases and letting the scent of her shampoo completely engulf his nostrils as he fell asleep. And it took him back to the following morning where he wobbled his hungover ass to the shower and accidentally (on purpose) used her coconut scented shampoo.

And then the entire rest of the day he smelled exactly like her and hadn’t gone a single minute without thinking of her. Thinking of her soft voice and what it would feel like to hear her saying his name just once. Thinking about the way she sometimes smiled at him like maybe she didn’t hate him as much as he thought. Thinking about her hair spread over her pillowcase and tucking loose strands behind her ear while she slept peacefully beside him...

Harry was also, very, very alone.

So alone that he spent more nights at other people’s homes, particularly Will’s, than his own. Even though he had an insanely expensive house all to himself up in the gated hills of Los Angeles, it was nothing compared to being surrounded by people he cared about instead of lifeless appliances.

He blamed it on the city. It always had a way of making him feel alienated. Even if it was the city that recognized him most often, it almost made him feel even more alone than he already was. Because none of the people he met along the way really knew him. They weren’t with him at the end of the day when he broke down on the floor in his bathroom. They didn’t see the dark parts of his life where he often wished he could take it all back just to be normal again. To have normal conversations and normal relationships with people he wasn’t constantly paranoid were trying to get something out of him.

So, in a way, he understood Y/N’s unwillingness to let him in, because he did it all the time. The thing he didn’t understand was why she had any reason to worry about the people in her life. No one was out to get her money or make themselves famous off of her. But there was a reason for it anyways, and it just about killed the curious cat in his mind every time he was at her apartment and she continued to not peep a single unnecessary word to him.

By the time he and Will had settled onto their respective spots in the living room, Harry tucked back into the cushions of their armchair and Will spread out on the loveseat opposite him, Y/N had already retreated back into her bedroom with her glass of ice water.

“Think that’s the most I’ve ever heard her talk.” Harry said, while Will skipped through the outdated commercials on the DVD.

Will’s lips turned up into a very knowing grin and he nodded, “She’s always been quiet, man. I told you not to take it personally.”

“How did you get her to talk?”

That was a question Harry had never asked before out of the countless stupid ones he had in the past. The stupidest was probably when he’d first met her and then proceeded to ask Will shortly after if Y/N was mute.

Will shrugged, “I’ve known her for a long time. It’s not like she goes on and on around me either though. That’s just how she is. And she probably just doesn’t like you that much.”

Harry huffed and sat back into his chair, giving up on it. He couldn’t force her to be his friend, as much as he wanted her to be.

The movie went on without Harry because he was completely lost in his own mind, however, Will seemed to be completely enthralled with Julia Roberts. Harry just couldn’t bring himself to focus on the television screen for more than a minute at a time.

It wasn’t until he heard a door down the hall click open that he brought himself back to reality and let his eyes wander to the sound behind him as Y/N stepped quietly out from her bedroom again. He knew she was the only other roommate home tonight and, yet, he still made the mistake of looking in her direction and, fucking finally, locking eyes with her. It was brief, but it was enough to stir up the enormous pot of butterflies in his stomach again.

Without a single word, she sat on the last unoccupied piece of furniture between the both of them, Harry still in a bit of shock and Will grinning with his eyes glued to the screen.

“Changed your mind, did you?” Will asked cheekily.

“Shut up,” she mumbled back at him before reaching toward the opened bag of untouched Hershey kisses. “Can I have one of these?”

Will finally peered over at her from his spot and then glanced at Harry across the coffee table, “You’ll have to ask Harry. He brought them.”

Her hand froze and she reluctantly turned her attention toward Harry, which had been the first time since he arrived that she voluntarily looked at him. She had no fucking clue how she was going to sit there and ask Harry for one of his Hershey kisses. Or if she even wanted them desperately enough.

The question went unasked, but the look on her face said more than enough. She was already waiting for his answer. And upon seeing the look on her face, Harry couldn’t possibly find it in himself to force her to say a damn thing. So he just cleared his throat instead, “Uh, it’s alright. You can have as many as you want.”

He watched as she grabbed a couple foil sealed chocolates and settled back into the corner of her own loveseat again, never willing to admit that he’d bought them especially for her. Because it had somehow managed to become common knowledge that they were her favorite candy and while wandering the local corner market, he spotted them and thought of her. His brain at the time thought there might be some minuscule possibility that if he brought one of her favorite foods over she might eventually start to like him.

Even if that didn’t happen though, he was still reeling from that one brief moment of interaction for the entire rest of the night. Splurging on an overpriced package of cavities had been well worth it.

It wasn’t until the movie ended that both Harry and Y/N realized Will was dead asleep. That he was no longer conscious enough to use the remote resting on his chest and turn the movie off. So, after a little while of staring at the credits, Y/N stood and grabbed it, flipping the controls until she brought up regular TV channels and then eventually settled for a horror movie Harry had never seen and had no intentions to. But, if it meant he got more time with Y/N, he’d sit through just about anything she wanted to watch.

And then finally, the sugar he’d consumed got to his head.

“Do you always watch scary movies before bed?” He asked, completely lost in his daydreams and not fully realizing he’d asked her a full-blown question until it was out of his mouth. Once he came to his senses, he wanted to shove every last word back into his mouth and pretend he never said anything.

That was, until a couple silent moments went by and she finally said something. “Makes the nightmares more interesting.”

He didn’t expect her to say anything at all, and so for her to say that, he had no idea how to respond to her. Was she being... sarcastic? He didn’t even know she was capable of being funny.

So he laughed, not too loudly in case she wasn’t joking. But all his worries were relieved when she glanced at him and giggled too.

He didn’t dare bring up any of the questions floating around in his mind in fear that she’d never speak another word to him ever again once he’d finally managed to break through the walls somehow. Now that he’d made groundbreaking progress with her, there was no way he was asking her why she never talked to him or why she was so quiet. So he kept a fine-tuned filter over what words came out of his mouth.

“Does that mean you have uninteresting nightmares then?” Harry really did try his damndest to think of anything to say that would get her to keep talking, because he wasn’t done listening to her voice or hearing bits of her brain spill out. He wanted to know everything about her, from her mouth only, but he also didn’t want to get too ahead of himself.

“Only on Sundays.”

“Why Sundays?” He asked through a muffled laugh, curious as to what she was on about.

“Because then the nightmares are about showing up at work naked on Monday morning... and that’s not very interesting.”

He couldn’t help the widespread grin on his face, or the way his eyebrows furrowed at how fucking weird she actually was. And she wasn’t even that weird. She was kind of normal, but this entire time he thought she wasn’t like him at all, so seeing her say things like a normal person was... weird.

“So what kind of nightmares does watching Annabelle at...” Harry checked his watch, and went into momentary shock at the time, but also couldn’t care less because he wasn’t leaving now, “two in the morning get you?”

She smiled, and refusing to look at him, settled for planting her eyes on the television instead. “Walking into work naked on Monday morning but,” she held up a finger in anticipation and Harry smiled wider, “all my coworkers are creepy dolls.”

“Guess at that point it doesn't matter if you’re naked then.”

She thought about for a moment before giggling at what he said, “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

There was silence between them again, but it was different this time. It was peaceful. It wasn’t full of awkward tension and things Harry wished she would say. It felt like two friends hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.

“Are you sleeping here or...” She finally asked him and he wasn’t sure if that was her way of asking him to leave or not. But something about it made him feel like she was building her walls back up again.

“Oh, uh... if that’s okay. Think I’m too tired to drive.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just wanted to know because I can sleep in Violet’s room and you can have my bed like before. If you want.”

“Oh, um, are you sure?” Under any other circumstances, he would have said no, that the short, uncomfortable couch would be fine. That he would get over the pain in his legs and back in the morning because he didn’t want to invade her space, again. Unfortunately for him, he already had the knowledge of what her pillows smelled like and how soft her sheets were and he desperately wanted to invade her space again.

She nodded. “It’s no problem. I’ll go clean up a little. Just let yourself in.”

She was gone before he could get another word out. And while he listened to her footsteps as she walked away from him, he stared blankly up at the ceiling, resting his neck back on the chair. It felt like he’d just been through a fever dream, like none of it was real. Not only did he have a normal conversation with her, but now she was offering her bed to him again as well.

He needed a moment to process things.

When she got done tidying up her room and replacing her blanket with a clean one for Harry, he appeared cautiously in the doorway, yawning as he watched her gather some of her things to take to Violet’s room directly across the hall.

“I turned the TV off and the lights. Will’s still quite dead out there.”

She smiled to herself and gave him a very fleeting glance before picking the last item she needed up off her side table and then finally facing him. “It’s all yours.”

Ushering him in, he stepped into her room like he wasn’t actually allowed to. Like he had never been there before. Like he hadn’t nearly puked all over her poor white bed sheets that one night.

She replaced his spot in the doorway as he sat down on the edge of her bed. He stared at her back as she walked away, not getting his hopes up about her saying anything else to him. So, when she did turn to face him again, it just about knocked the air out of him.

“Oh and Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you try to not drool on my pillows this time?”

He glanced at the top of her bed where all her pillows were neatly stacked and cringed at the horrible memories he had and at the fact that he’d actually drooled on her pillows. Like a fucking animal. Like a dog who couldn’t control himself.

“Sorry ‘bout that...” He looked at her again, genuinely apologetic and completely embarrassed by his past, drunken self.

“It’s okay.” She smiled reassuringly, “Night.”

“G’night.” Harry mumbled just before she left and closed the door behind her.

And in all the talk about drool, it wasn’t until he was cuddled under her blanket and up against her mound of pillows that he realized something. She’d said his name, out loud, to his face, where he could hear it and obsess over it and never get sick of it. He repeated it over and over in his head and kept himself awake just thinking about the way it had sounded and if he’d ever get to hear her say his name again.

The faint hum of voices right outside the door woke him slightly. His entire body was still asleep except for about half of his brain and one eye that peeked open to investigate the noise. He could tell it was early, though, his eyes stung and his body ached to go fully back to sleep.

He could make out Violet’s voice, which confused his foggy brain because he swore Will had mentioned she’d be gone all weekend, and yet here she was yelling in the hallway and interrupting his sleep.

“Please just sleep on the couch then, I need to be alone right now.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows at how distressed she sounded and flinched when the door across the hall just about slammed shut.

He heard an exasperated sigh and then squeezed his eyes shut when he saw movement under the door to Y/N’s bedroom just moments before it opened. He pretended to be asleep for as long as he could, listening to the footsteps as they carefully wandered into the room.

And then a hushed, but very exclamatory, “Ow!” got him to roll onto his back and knuckle his eyes open.

She looked at him apologetically while grasping the big toe of her right foot. “Sorry.”

“S’okay.” His voice was a lot groggier and a lot more raspy than she expected it to be. And she kind of hated herself for enjoying the view, a little too much, of Harry waking up in her bed. While she got her thoughts under control, he continued. “Did Violet just kick you out?”

She simply nodded and went back to digging into her cabinets for spare pillows.

“What time is it?” He asked.

“Four-thirty.”

Then he slowly pulled her blanket off, still dressed in his shirt and joggers from last night but without his socks and rings he’d removed before bed.

She immediately turned to him, however. “You don’t have to get up. I’m fine on the couch.” “No, I would feel bad.”

“It’s okay, really. Don’t worry about it.” She got him to stop what he was doing and lay back into the bed again while she opened up more cabinet doors to find her extra bed sets.

He cleared his throat after a little while of watching her, and gathered up the largest bundle of courage he ever had, to say what he was about to say next. With nervous, shaking fingers and a cold sweat on the back of his neck, he voiced the stupidest idea he’d ever had in his life.

“We can just both sleep here... if that’s fine.”

She froze and he knew he’d made a mistake. Why in the actual fuck did he just suggest that? Maybe he was sleep deprived. Maybe he was still reeling from last night. Maybe he had some false sense of security with her and completely forgot about the fact that last night had been the first time she’d said that many words to him. Of course she wasn’t about to climb in bed with him.

“Oh, um...” She finally found a couple pillows and pulled them from the cabinet while turning her attention back to Harry. She could not deny how desperately she wanted to crawl back into her own bed. And have a warm body next to her, which she had literally never had. No one had ever slept in her bed besides Harry, and definitely not with her. Sure, she’d slept in friends’ beds before on occasion, but this was different. It was her own bed and this was Harry, not her college friends.

So maybe it was the sleep-deprivation talking. 

“Okay.”

In all forms but physical, his jaw had just hit the floor. Never in a million years or in any other infinite alternate realities would he have thought they’d end up here, with Harry sliding over to one side of the bed to make room for her while she crawled in beside him. Her queen size gave lots of room in between them, so it wasn’t as weird as it sounded. It was just two, very tired loose-knit friends sharing a bed for a few hours.

“Goodnight, again.” Harry mumbled, realizing too late that it was technically morning now.

“Mhm,” was the only response he got out of her when she curled up under the blanket they shared and went straight back to sleep with her back to him.

And once his nerves settled, he did the same.

It was a lot easier than either of them thought possible. And for a long while, they stayed on their respective sides of the bed. But once she was lost in dreamland and he was already letting out soft snores, there was no control over what happened next. She turned and cuddled right up to his side as if her unconscious mind thought he was some kind of pillow to cradle. She wasn’t all to blame, though, as his arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her even closer. Closer than either of them had been to another living being in a long time. As close as her forearm spread across his chest and her head nestled into his neck. Close enough to smell his cologne but not realize why or stop any of it from happening. Not that she would have wanted to if she had any clue what she was doing. Not that he would have wanted to either.

With his hand digging into her waist, they both were mildly aware of what was going on, but both were also still too lost in their exhaustion. So, it just happened. And they held each other tighter as the minutes passed and the dreams took over once again. Because they both needed it. To hold and to be held. To feel the pressure of another person and the heartbeat on their skin. And all the loneliness in their bones melting away with each other’s touch as if they’d never been alone in the first place.

The only thing that could ever separate them was the knock on her door at nine a.m. Everything was a little fuzzy at first before she blinked a few times and realized that what she’d been using as a pillow wasn’t exactly stuffed with cotton and lined in silk. With a gasp, she pulled away from him abruptly. Ceasing all contact. Not because she wanted to necessarily, but because she would rather Harry not find out she was all over him like she had just been.

“Oh my god,” she whispered quietly in disbelief, mentally punching herself in the face for what she’d just woken up to.

But her embarrassment only skyrocketed when she dragged her eyes up his neck to his chin, then his nose and finally saw him staring right back at her with furrowed brows like he was just as confused as she was. When he glanced at the door is when she moved to do something about it.

Quickly, she pulled the covers off of herself and opened her door only the smallest amount possible. Just enough to peak her head out, but not enough for Will to see Harry in her bed. Where she’d just been sleeping right next to him. Or... right on top of him, as it seemed.

“Did Harry go home last night?”

With absolutely no plan to go along with her lie, she still figured it was the better option than to admit to Will she’d been in the same bed as Harry. That she’d been all fucking over him for who knows how long.

“Um, yeah. After you fell asleep.”

From behind her, Harry quietly smacked his hands over his face and fell back dramatically into her fluffy pillows.

“Oh, ok. Vi won’t come out of her room, but I’m going to go get breakfast from Jade’s. You want anything?”

“No, I’m alright, thanks.” Her words fused together in a flash, just trying to get the least amount of information out as quickly as possible so she didn't accidentally say something suspicious.

She shut the door on him with a smile before Will could even offer her a pastry from their most loved local cafe. Once that was dealt with, and she had a moment to gather her thoughts as she stared at her door, she slowly turned around to face Harry.

Her cheeks were probably bright red and full of embarrassment seeing him there amongst her sheets; as if once she had turned around he wouldn’t actually be there, like maybe she’d dreamt the whole thing.

But no.

He was there. And he was very real. And very much looking at her like they were both insane.

“I’m sorry,” they said it at the exact same time, cutting each other off from saying anything else.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, um...” Harry started once he found an opportunity to speak again, but he didn’t exactly know what he was apologizing for. He wasn’t sorry for how they’d ended up. He had the best four and a half hours of sleep he’d ever had.

“I shouldn’t have been like... all on you like that.” She averted her eyes when she spoke, not able to look him straight on and admit it. And she knew she was only apologizing because she felt embarrassed and like she had to. She felt like she’d invaded Harry’s space and took advantage of him.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

She just shrugged. Nothing he said at this point could make her feel any less horrible about it. And even so, some part deep down inside of her, when she finally looked at him again, wanted to get right back into that spot with him for another few hours.

It just felt... right. And even though she couldn’t remember what she dreamed about, she knew it wasn’t her usual nightmare. She had felt safe and secure, and not so alone anymore, sleeping beside him like that and she felt stupid knowing it would never happen again.

“I should get going then. Before Will comes back and realizes I didn’t actually leave.” Harry let out an exasperated laugh as he began getting up, sitting himself on the edge of her bed with his back facing her as he stretched. The fabric of his shirt tugged along his muscles as he flexed them awake, and she grew far too overwhelmed thinking about the fact that those fucking arms of his had been around her for the better half of the morning. She could still feel him holding onto her and his grip at her side.

She needed a very cold shower and some fresh air.

[rigmarolling]

Top 5 Things That Will Kill You In the Victorian Era

If you’ve ever spent more than two seconds with me, you know that I live and breathe the fog-choked air of Victorian London. All day. Every day of my life. 

See, in many ways, the Victorians were the first version of us--overwhelmed by rapidly-changing technology (and its awful effect on the climate); dealing with incredible wealth gaps; grappling with rising crime and faster travel and out-of-control media and the whole, “God is dead, oh no” thing. 

Also, everything was trying to kill you.

Like, literally almost everything.

From your clothes to your doctor to your canned food, here are the top five things that will kill you in the Victorian era.

5. Other Victorians

If the rise of penny dreadfuls (cheap magazines stuffed with horror stories for us morbidly-inclined goth types) was any indication, Victorians loved them some true crime. 

And there was no shortage of subject matter to choose from: depending on where you ventured in London, at least, you could be subject to anything from pickpocketing to mugging to violent assault and, of course, murder. 

There were a few reasons for this:

For one thing, the population in London alone increased by millions in the 19th century, and approximately no one was prepared for that. So, to accommodate the rapidly-booming population, the wealthy folks in charge reached out and lovingly ensured the masses of the disenfranchised poor were taken care of by redistributing resources and education and access to opportunities that improved lives on a both a personal and social level.

Lol, no, I’m totally kidding; they shoved them into slums and tenement buildings and pretended they didn’t exist.

So of course, there was a rise in crime, because if you have five kids and you can’t find gainful employment and your family will starve if you don’t steal that basket of food over there, or that purse that lady left sitting over THERE, what are you going to do? You’re going to steal the food and the purse to survive, Jean Valjean, I understand, I do.

Except the powers that be did NOT understand, and instead routinely espoused the idea that if people were poor, it was because they were morally bankrupt, or inherently bad, somehow, and the “criminal classes,” as they came to be known by the growing Victorian middle and upper-middle classes, were simply considered genetically bad to the bone and therefore undeserving of assistance.

Basically:

So ANYWAY.

Crime was on the rise and there were multiple efforts to stop it with varying degrees of success, but big city usually = big crime, especially when there’s a massive gap between the one percent-ers and THE REST OF US, WASHINGTON.

Ahem.

All that crime? The booming news industry loved it. The press ate it up and then spit it back out in salacious headlines that never even bothered with journalistic objectivity, like this gem:

I mean. Full disclosure: I, too, agree that cutting off a woman’s head, arms, and legs and then burning them is “awful, inhuman, & barbarous” but just...maybe...maybe tone it down? Just a bit?

No? Okay.

See, here’s the thing: crime sells. It always has. And papers went nuts with full illustrated spreads about the latest brutal murders so you could sit in your parlor and get anxiety poops thinking about how the butcher down the street looked at you funny the other day and oh, God, you’re probably next, oh God.

The most famous murderer of the era, was, of course, Jack the Ripper, which was just the orchestral climax of a hideously corrupted society that had bubbled into naught but a festering carbuncle, an ulcer upon the very soul of man, trussed up as a city of industry, but which is merely Salome, dancing with the Lamb’s head upon a platter and sending us all tumbling into a fiery pit.

....Ahem, again.

Some popular ways your fellow Victorians could kill you included: dueling (with swords but usually with revolvers), stabbing, garroting, and, probably the most popular method of the era, poisoning.

Speaking of which...

4. Anything dyed that hip shade of green

In 1775, a guy named Carl Wilhelm Scheele invented a new shade of green, cleverly called Scheele’s green, and it instantly became a hit. Pretty soon, manufacturers and tailors were dyeing everything this color. 

Look at it. Bright, airy. Calls to mind a fresh, spring meadow. (What’s that, you ask? Well, before the Industrial Revolution belched out black smoke onto absolutely everything, there were these things called plants and grass and they were all over the place and you could frolic through them and it was very nice for your serotonin levels.)

I mean, listen, this isn’t really my color because anything vaguely yellow-ish makes my already yellow-ish skin look especially jaundiced, but it’s a lovely shade:

Besides using it to create beautiful dresses and tasteful waistcoats, they used it inside book covers:

And it was a super popular wallpaper color:

They had green candles and green cups and green kitchenwares and green paint.

But while Carl Wilhelm Scheele didn’t exactly murder anyone (even though he has three names like every serial killer ever), he sort of, accidentally, indirectly, kinda...did.

Because that springy dye contained every Victorian black widow’s favorite method to dispose of a troublesome husband: arsenic.

Scheele, of course, had no idea--no one did--so I’m fully exonerating him here, but the poison nonetheless started to take its toll.

Reports began to surface of kids getting sicker and sicker and then dying in their green wallpapered rooms; of fashionable ladies rocking those green dresses at balls and then ALSO getting sicker and sicker and breaking out in horrible sores before dying. 

They even used this stuff to dye food green, so of course, anybody who tucked into Victorian green eggs and ham also, you know. Died.

And if they DIDN’T die, they got cancer, because if arsenic doesn’t kill you, it will give you cancer. And then kill you.

Eventually, as science advanced and went, “HEYO, there’s literal poison in this stuff,” consumers were like, “Well, shoot, this summer’s hottest beach shade just killed an entire boarding school,” and Scheele’s green finally fell out of favor.

It was, however, used as a pesticide up through the 1930s, so...way to use the...leftovers? I guess?

3. Your canned food

Hey, now that we’re on the topic of deadly chemicals being where they absolutely should not be, let’s talk about canned food. 

In the Victorian era, it was the new Hot Thing (next to arsenic green). You mean I can can my food now? Like? Forever? Oh, only for a few months. Okay, cool. Still cool. 

Above: Road trip snax.

Food preservation methods had existed long before canned meats and veggies and soups, but canned everything really started to gain traction around the middle of the 19th century, and people were stoked. Remember, the population exploded; people needed new methods of obtaining cheap food that didn’t spoil immediately. So: cans to the rescue! 

Recycling hadn’t really been invented, though, so today, archaeologists constantly find giant Victorian trash pits filled with empty cans.

You know what also hadn’t been invented? Consumer health and safety boards.

So guess what was in the tin cans themselves? 

No, no, don’t worry, it wasn’t arsenic.

It was lead.

Which, in case you weren’t aware, is also very, very bad for you.

So bad, in fact, that today, scientists are pretty sure lead-lined tins of canned food were partially responsible for the deaths on the disastrous Franklin Expedition, an ultimately futile trip to discover the Northwest Passage lead by Sir John Franklin in 1845. Every single man on board the two ships stranded in the Arctic died, and in the 1980s, when scientists discovered perfectly mummified bodies (GRAPHIC, if you don’t like that sort of thing, but awesome if you do) of some of the sailors, one of the mummies contained insane amounts of lead. They later tested the cans found scattered across the wreck site and whoops, they also contained insane amounts of lead.

Above: Some of the tin cans from the Franklin Expedition, which contained items like salted beef, vegetables, tea, lethal amounts of lead, and Chicken of the Sea.

Granted, other factors contributed to the Franklin deaths, like, you know, being stranded in the Arctic and starving to death, and also tuberculosis, but lead-lined canned food certainly didn’t help things along.

2. Your doctor

Here’s my advice if you’re in the Victorian era and you’re starting to feel sick: do not get sick. Just don’t. Because then that means you’ll have to go to the doctor. Which probably means you will die.

Hospitals in the 19th century were deadly. Often even more deadly than just staying at home, according to Dr. Lindsey Fitzharris, author of The Butchering Art. Nobody knew how to treat anything, really, because medical understanding of biology was in its infancy and antibiotics didn’t exist yet, so you were absolutely, definitely going to get some kind of infection the second you stepped foot in a Victorian hospital.

Above: The surgery, where nobody has any idea what they are doing, ever.

Doctors weren’t trying to kill you on purpose--they just didn’t know any better. And it super duper didn’t help that common treatments for everything from the common cold to tuberculosis included taking mercury (which kills you) and blood-letting, (which can also kill you) the tools for which are shown below:

Those might look like fun doodads for your astronomy class at Hogwarts, but they’re actually vials and a really, really sharp needle that pricks you until you bleed out a critically dangerous amount of blood into those vials. 

The (ancient) school of thought behind blood-letting was that draining patients of “bad” blood would rebalance their “humours” and get rid of the icky thing that was making them sick. We might laugh at it now, but if you don’t know any better, logically, it makes sense.

Medically, oh my God, it’s the worst.

So if Doc didn’t bleed you to death, he might try surgery--done without anesthesia or antibiotics (until good old Dr. Lister came along--read The Butchering Art!), and then ship you and your amputated stump leg off to the hospital ward where, instead of healing, you’d get wheeled through hallways stained with every bodily fluid imaginable into rooms filled with people coughing up every bodily fluid imaginable, some of which would get into your leg stump, infect it, and then kill you dead.

“But what about medicine?” you ask. “Can’t I just take medicine?”

Sure! Just be aware that it definitely contains morphine and probably contains cocaine, or mercury, or arsenic, or sulfur, or pulverized bits of ancient Egyptian mummies (I am not kidding. True, the latter had started to fall out of favor in the 19th century, but, like. Stop).

Above: Hard drugs, but just for you.

You think I’m joking?

Above: PARTY TIME.

Sometimes, a doctor would just advise that you move to a “more temperate climate” like Rome or Spain if you were feeling chronically ill, which might help you get a tan and COULD help if you had sucky lungs, but eventually, you’d just die anyway, because what you really needed was a strong antibiotic or antiviral medication and the closest you were gonna get was Mrs. Hopplebopple’s Temperance Tonic, which was probably filled with ground up baby bones and just so much heroin.

And don’t even get me started on Victorian surgical tools:

Open wide.

1. Water

There are three rules in this life: don’t watch any Adam Sandler movies except for maybe Anger Management, don’t eat the yellow snow, and do not, ever, for any reason, ever drink water in Victorian England.

That’s because it was about as clean as a Victorian hospital. 

Meaning it wasn’t. At all.

Victorian water--of the Thames variety--contained:

Cholera, one of the deadliest killers of the era and bad water’s favorite roommate.

Poop, human and otherwise, because a functioning sewer system? I don’t know her. (At least, not until the 1860s.)

Pee, human and otherwise, because nothing says, “Jolly Old England” like an open trench of piss rolling through the city.

Dead things, like animals, fish (which are animals, so why am I listing them as a separate thing?), and, occasionally, humans.

Chemicals, which spewed forth from the great factories in billowing, bubbling, belching rivers of sludge. (Ha! Omg, yes, I was an English major!)

The Thames was so filthy that Londoners called it “Monster Soup.”

Above: Same.

In 1855, scientist Michael Faraday (who was also kind of hot; tell me I’m wrong), wrote a letter to the Times about the disgusting state of the river:

"Near the bridges the feculence rolled up in clouds so dense that they were visible at the surface, even in water of this kind. ... The smell was very bad, and common to the whole of the water; it was the same as that which now comes up from the gully-holes in the streets; the whole river was for the time a real sewer."

Tl;dr: “It smelled like ass.”

In fact, it got so bad, so putrid, so horrifically clogged with every disgusting thing your mind and your butthole can possibly conjure up, that it lead to one of my favorite things to read about in the world: The Great Stink of 1858.

Yes, that’s the real name. I did not make that up. History is incredible.

Above: Summer vacation, 1858.

The summer of 1858 was miserably hot in London. And the Thames was miserably clogged with poop, and pee, and chemicals, and dead things, and, uh oh, cholera. During July and August that year, the smell wafting from the river was so offensive that Parliament was actually adjourned because everybody kept throwing up. Cholera devastated the city. The water was killing London.

Faced with either the prospect of living with a city-wide vomit-and-diarrhea smell for the rest of forever OR finally cleaning things up, the government actually did something right and chose the latter. They contracted civil engineer Joseph Bazalgette to overhaul the city’s sewer, to which Bazalgette, pinching his nose, responded, “FINALLY.” 

Above: Joesph Bazalgette, savior of the London sewers and purveyor of a truly beautiful mustache.

Bazalgette proceeded to build the London sewer system still in use today. His efforts greatly reduced the number of cholera deaths, cleared the Thames of its Cronenberg-esque muck, and ensured that poop goes where it’s supposed to: way the hell out of HERE and way the hell under THERE.

Water sanitation still had a long way to go, though, which meant you either had to boil your water to kill the bacteria in it, or you could just drink alcohol instead, which was the safer option but which would also leave you very dehydrated and also, if imbibed excessively, would leave you very dead.

So really, you were doomed in some way no matter what you did, and if that isn’t the moral of the entire Victorian story, then I don’t know what is.

[shiberpostshere]

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

38. Chapter Thirty Two: No, It’s Ryan Reynolds!✨

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Masterlist of the AU✨ 

Word Count: 6.7K (Buckle up, its time for a ride)

This Chapter Contains: Giggle worthy chaos and tooth decaying fluff. (An Annoyed San too.) 

It’s a regular Sunday. A quiet regular Sunday. An unusually quiet, regular Sunday that you don’t experience often as a college student.

An unusually quiet regular Sunday except for Yeri and Jongho’s loud, harmonious snores that vibrated through the lazy (almost) evening silence of the apartment while you had sneaked out like a thief bound with tinkling shackles out of the front door. 

It was exactly five minutes before 5 O’clock and you knew what noise pollution would commence once the short hand stopped perfectly atop the number five. 

The neighbour above starts angrily vacuuming to release their pent up frustration of the day or maybe to act as a thoughtful warning alarm to wake the other residents who might be napping above the universal napping time limit and the snarky middle aged lady beside, who begins banging pots and rattling spoons to prepare either her dinner or for a secret time travel battle she has to attend every single night to save the history for the sake of the present. 

You have a generous set for neighbours. 

Thankfully, you aren’t currently present in your apartment to experience the brutal murder of your ears. 

Unfortunately, you’re sandwiched in between San and Wooyoung in the shared wide back seats of the bus, stuffed to the absolute brim with sweaty and jumpy people. 

The serenity of the weekend ended when you willingly decided to step onto the Bus No. 7 for the following reasons: 

Number One, You and Wooyoung don’t drive and San owns a motorcycle that cannot carry three people at once, not without getting an overloaded vehicle ticket by pulling a stunt like that,

Number two, you have nothing better to do on a Sunday evening other than watch Yeri and Jongho scream about the WIFI and college website because they couldn’t select the classes they wanted fast enough, 

Number three, you were unable to escape from Wooyoung’s persistence but you had to get out and inhale some fresh air of the outside. 

It is a secret that you had isolated yourself in the sweet ol’ bedroom (in the name of preparing for a workshop), to take a five minutes rest which gradually progressed into knotting up your bones by rolling on the bed 24/7 and temporarily disrupting the serotonin production while watching sad movies, and

Number four, San cashed out a favour from that one time he fetched a folder from your dorm and drove fifteen minutes to deliver it because your degree was on the line. Which is why, this particular evening you need to help him out with whatever he wants to do at this Garden plus Research Centre for Thesis purposes. 

“The Thesis and Freebies Date”, term coined by Jung Wooyoung, free entertainment, food finder and a plus one, on Sunday 17th of May, 5:30 AM on the dot. 

On top of all these reasons sat Seonghwa’s last text message like a cherry on top of a cupcake of complaints. 

He sent you a picture of his americano that was loaded with ten pumps of syrup, “I’m drinking coffee😇”  

What coffeeee????!!?!?!?

Everything has failed you today. The public transportation system, your emotional support boy and your unhealthy obsessive complex believing that anything above two pumps of syrup is not coffee because you cannot handle personal preferences. 

“Why on earth is this bus full like it’s the last bus available to escape a fucking zombie aopcalypse. What is this ‘Bus to Busan’?” Your voice comes out with pure seething under your breath for only your friends to hear but you catch the old lady beside San narrowing her eyes at you with suspicion. 

San, engrossed in scrolling through his twitter and sipping his (proper) americano is least interested about your discomfort. 

“Oh I don’t know! I did suggest taking the subway instead but two idiotic people whined for five minutes straight to get on this bus.” His response is monotonous, attempting to contain himself from bursting. 

The pinching statement is directed towards you and Wooyoung who grumbled about the group having to walk after getting off the subway when the bus seemed like a better option that stopped right on the street opposite of your destination. 

Wooyoung’s frame shifts slightly onto your small seat as the hefty man beside him wiggles for space. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only I had had an epiphany about how crowded the bus was going to be before we board it.” 

If only you had epiphanies. 

The bus was mildly crowded when all of you had entered but became packed within the next ten minutes of collecting passengers at merely three stations. 

Poor Wooyoung is scared for his life knowing he will be ironed flat by the man if the bus jumps over a speed breaker or God forbid, decides to halt abruptly. The fear is relatable because the boy standing in front will collapse right onto your already shaky lap under any abrupt movements made by the bus. 

After five minutes of distracting himself, San shoves his phone in the pocket of his jeans and leans into your space to jab a finger at two of you simultaneously. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only my lazy ass friends knew how to walk but they left their legs in the semester break.” He accuses.

He is absolutely right. 

Every student, excluding the few exceptionally productive ones, collectively lost the ability to walk unless the end goal was acquiring food, money, grades and work experience. 

Wooyoung throws his hands up out of exasperation, “And you’re hundred percent sure that the subway isn’t packed?” 

You nod vigorously, supporting his argument because it doesn’t lead to admitting that you’re wrong and not once you’ll acknowledge the possibility of the missed subway having much more space than this body heat microwave of a bus that you two insisted on boarding until San gave in and agreed. 

“Yeah. Also, we’re accompanying you for your work, San.” You chide in to transfer the blame like a ten year old child and nudge the grouchy boy away from the seat with your right arm. 

San’s left brow twitches. He is definetly holding back a snarky retort. 

“Yes, yes, it’s all my fault.” He drawls on his reponse and turns his head away to ignore your presence entirely.

Apparently, it was not an unusually quiet, regular Sunday for the residents of Unit 8181 also known as the occupants of the apartment of Seonghwa and Friends who have been on the edge due to a mysterious late night incident that was not revealed to you no matter how many times you pried. 

Mingi and Yeosang were sprawled together on the couch, hidden beneath a bunch of weighty duvets which did not look like it had two people sleeping underneath it until they started untangling themselves from each other. 

Wooyoung was showering, apparently for almost an hour to scrub away his drowsiness as stated by San who has been extremely cranky and constantly keeping himself occupied with his phone and swishing and fixing his posh, sky blue cardigan (until you entered the kitchen and he dragged you out with him, suddenly all smiles). 

Yunho was the only one who appeared somewhat himself, still in his pajamas, folding questionably large amount of laundry. He mentioned ‘monopoly game night’ but you didn’t buy that excuse.

They were engaged in constant back and forth, ‘Who Can Shut the Other Guys Up In The Most Creative Way’ contest. 

Yeosang won after a house slipper flew out of his room, wheezed past your legs and landed right near the shoe rack as you stood there frozen. The aim was commendable but the action was concerning. 

Other than sarcastic remarks, all of them shared swollen eyebags due to the lack of sleep. 

A sleepy Mingi glared at you with his droopy eyes for thirty seconds, mumbled out, “Oh, it’s just you.”, trudged towards his room and slammed the door behind him. 

The apartment floor was spotless, not one obvious clutter in sight. 

Seonghwa will surely name everything he owns to them in his will once he returns in the coming week and sees the glistening state of the apartment. 

It reminds you that you, too, need to take care of that one chair that holds the tower of toppling dirty clothes in your room before he sees them and gives you an earful of nagging. 

A bead of cold sweat travels down the crevice of your neck. 

“How much longer until we arrive?” You committ the mistake of directing the question to the volcanic mountain prepared to erupt any minute now. 

The bus jostles with a screech, collectively swinging everyone forward with a painful jerk.  Shared sighs and groans echo throughout the bus. 

Staying put in your seat in this bus is more challenging than a one minute plank.

“I don’t know, he probably knows.” Wooyoung responds with a shrug, holding onto his dear life. 

“Maybe you should walk through this sea of people and ask the bus driver himself.” San suggests with an imposed smile, causing your own lips to stretch into a false one. 

“What a fantastic suggestion! I would love to use you as a human shield to push through this crowd and get to the front.” You answer, crossing your arms below your chest.

He offers you his entire irked attention.

Wooyoung’s forehead dives into the palm of his hand. He’d rather hide than let the passengers of the bus know that he is associated with the two of you. 

The agitated boy rolls his eyes, lips pressing into a thin line before he launches his lecture. “Okay, you know what (y/n)---” 

“Oh for goodness sake! Young man and young woman! Resume your couple’s banter at your place, don’t fight in public places.” The old lady whose patience was being tested this entire journey voices out her protest. 

You’re stunned for a good moment before your heads snap towards the lady, wearing similar offended expressions. 

Meanwhile, Wooyoung is holding onto his bubbling laughter. His palms having slid down from his forehead to his lips to prevent himself from laughing out loud like a maniac. 

“We are not a couple!” You both answer in a hurried chorus. 

After the frantic clarification, your eyes meet and the absurdity of the old lady’s comment wipes every single trace of the previous exchange.

Both of you break together into timed, soft giggles and the chain reaction pulls in Wooyoung who laughs into his hands to control the volume. 

The lady shakes her head at your reaction. “Well, then, not a couple, don’t fight and let me ride to my book club meeting in peace.” She states her demand, expression indicating that she is cooking incorrect judgements about your group in her mind. 

San and you offer her a quick sincere apology, suppressing the amusement derived from her assumption.  

“You two in a romantic relationship? More like a disastorous pair of wannabe edgy emo and a pissed caffeinated fantasizer. Nah, totally incompatible.” Wooyoung mutters under his breath. 

“He’d get rid of me in ten minutes.” You whisper your reasoning.  

San feels the old lady’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head, his arm nudges yours gently, “Make that five. Okay now, zip up.” His eyes and voice both firmly plead. 

“Yes sir.” You reply and shrink in your seat further to make room for Wooyoung to breathe. 

They’re quite a handful duo, alright, but they’re your handful duo and they handle you as well.

After ten minutes of bumping, shoving and tossing around the entire bus like popcorns, the three of you miraculously step out in one piece. 

You take a good five minutes to regain your normal pace of breathing again.

The relaxing wind carrying the gentle floral aroma from the garden calms your suffocated senses. 

Ah, finally, freedom from people.

The bus was overdosed with CO2. 

Your lips were zipped for most of the ride in order to avoid receiving another sneer from the old lady and making sure you don’t run out of the very last oxygen molecule present in the bus.

Wooyoung is stretching every limb of his body after being pressed in between the sandwich grill consisting of you and the giant man.

“You know what?” He pulls out a little black hair tie to control the little locks ruffling against his eyes. “Ditch me the next time I whine about not walking because that was literal hell. I am never stepping into another bus, ever again.” The determination present in his voice is almost convincing. Almost.

“You’re going to start whining when it’s time to return.” Adds San, after double checking every pocket present on his clothing.

An overwhelmingly tiring yawn falls through your lips. 

“Yeah, dude, no false promises.” You inch closer towards San to show your support.

Wooyoung’s exhausted face transforms into an unamused one, “You’re shameless.” 

Harsh but true.

“No, no, no, you last minute side switchers, get away from me. I am not claiming you.” Ignoring your presence, he simply walks towards the main entrance of the garden. 

A sickeningly sweet smile appears on your lips. “Hey, wait, I promise, I won’t take Wooyoung’s side ever again!” You say in a singsong manner, taking wide steps to catch up by San’s side. 

“Where do you think you are going?” The betrayed one gets a hold of your backpack and pulls you back with a forceful tug. 

Your shoes brush harshly against the concrete pavement. He accomplishes the task of slowing you down and makes a run for San, wheezing loudly. 

“Jung Wooyoung!” You cry out loud at his actions, your backpack flailing out of your arms. 

He treads beside his unbothered friend, front facing you from a distance. “We need to meet the professor at the research centre anyway, keep yourself busy until then!” A wink and a cackle, then he grabs San by his shoulders and disappears inside at an astonishing speed. 

Like a little kid whose ice cream has been snatched away, you stand there watching San’s waving hand and Wooyoung’s bouncy ponytail fading away.

A strong inhale and a gentle exhale, you try to calm the rapid heaving of your chest. 

“Ah, whatever! They’ll text me once they’re done.” Uttering the assuring words to yourself, you fix the carelessly hanging backpack and set course to occupy yourself in the garden until they’re done with whatever they have to do at the research centre. 

This is not the first time they have pulled this prank of abandoning you just for laughs and then frantically calling with the classic bait of “yo, come over at this food truck, we’re paying😏” 

They throw the same bait under any circumstances and it works pure magic on any living being who lives for eating. Even Seonghwa caves in, and your willpower is -2 compared to Seonghwa’s 10+ patience. 

Once you step inside the garden, you’re sure they have ditched you with good intentions as your eyes take in the lavish surroundings.

The green of nature is widespread throughout in the form of sturdy and lean trees, recently mowed grass and snipped shrubs peeking in between, all sprinkled with colourful little flowers like twinkling stars on a clear night sky. A gentle breeze whistles by within small intervals, rustling the leaves with the faintest crackling sound. 

There are feeble chirps of birds, hiding in their nests to sleep for the night. 

It is heaven on earth as the golden glow of the sun settles upon the scene. 

The lulling fragrance of roses carried along with the wind urges you to roll on the blanket of the grass and maybe even take a nap after tiring yourself but you know you’ll be thrown out because there are watchful guards scattered around. 

For once, you’re grateful that they left you behind. 

You’d rather take a walk around the garden while listening to serene songs rather than awkwardly wait behind them as they converse with the said professor they’re here to meet.  

I should explore a little before San gets into his Plant Geek Mode. 

A major path from the main entrance splits in several small, stone tracks, like a maze to explore. 

The region is vast, tranquil and maintained, no wonder a research centre lies somewhere in this arboretum.

You notice the informative display of the map, standing tall, indicating what lies in between and at the end of every track, piquing your explorer fantasy. There is a stack of small, handy maps for visitors to carry as well. 

You grab one, deciding upon the center most lane with your earphones playing the enchanting tune of Like a Flowing Wind by Day6 in a low volume.

“The North Lane leads towards the green house and the research centre.” You murmur, studying the contents of the map with much concentration. “Wooyoung and San probably went that way.” You throw a quick glance behind before resuming your stroll. 

The trail you’re currently walking on is the West Way, sheltered with tall towering trees and the Grand Elixir Fountain that lies at the end.  

You neatly fold the brochure and tuck it safely inside your pocket, saving the next spots to visit together once you regroup. 

Surprisingly, the garden doesn’t have an overflowing crowd. 

There are quite a lot of people occupying the benches and seating areas, mostly couples. You notice quite a few students, assuming they are, with their laptops and notebooks, surveying or either sitting in a formation to share their findings. 

Everyone is invested in themselves, in their own little world due to which the place feels quite private, snug and pleasant. 

The greenery, the sounds of nature, the music and soft whispers creating one whole atmosphere of contentment. 

It has been named Golden Blooms for a reason indeed. Except the Research Centre part, we’re going to ignore that for now. 

Seonghwa would absolutely love this place. There is nothing not to love about this. You can sketch a million ways of spending time here together. 

You don’t want to be a girlfriend like that but you’re to be a girlfriend like that.

A picnic after a long hectic week of continuous classes to unwind while spending quality time together, under a birch tree that casts a wide shadow beneath to watch the sunset while sharing the most mundane and silliest stories of your week and snacking on the collective bag you two usually pack before heading out for your Saturday Sunset Dates.

Maybe you’ll have to give up the spot due to its popular demand but it’ll be alright nonetheless. Instead, you’ll resort to taking every lane to check what lies at the end as Seonghwa’s personal playlist will be the perfect background music. 

The day will end with a hearty dinner and crashing in either’s bedroom, cuddling together where he always insists on being the little spoon and you always give in. 

 Oh god, I went too far. 

If just the thought has you feeling immensely giddy, how exhilarating would it feel to actually spend a day like that? 

Back to present, (Y/N), back to present. 

The uneven stone trail comes to an end as your shoes sink into the bed of the grass. Your next steps feel extremely light. 

Walking on this grass is the closet one can experience how walking on a cloud feels like. You constrain yourself from removing your socks and shoes and running around on the grass like a madman--

Holy Shit. 

The Grand Elixir Fountain is a masterpiece. 

Rather than blindingly white, it is a comforting shade of evanesce beige. The sculptures surrounding the circumference are alluring rather than intimidating of mythical water creatures from numerous mythologies.

A water nymph settles at the heart of the fountain on a wave with water sprouting from the pot she’s embracing. 

The gurgling water simmers down onto another platform shaped like a lotus, little droplets splashing on the people standing close by the edge and then gliding down from the platform into the bottom expanse to become a slow, rippling stream. 

The Fountain is a high lord, you are a mere peasant. The Fountain is the moon and you’re a small star. The Fountain is queen bee and you’re a worker bee. The Fountain is a high quality gaming PC and you’re a laptop you had to buy with an acceptable graphic card because you’re a college student who is surviving.

Maybe you’re not the best with creative descriptions but it’s okay you’re a law student any way. 

Creative writing is Yeosang’s forte and he worries about it plenty. 

“Seonghwa can’t be here but I can send him some pictures.” Pulling out your phone, you scan the area. 

An old couple are seated on a bench to the far right admiring the view, bunches of people pass by once a while either to leave or enter the area and a small group of friends are circled in a corner preoccupied within themselves.

“Okay, nothing to see here, just a college girl fangirling over a beautiful fountain.” You say it with the intent of addressing the people present but it is mostly directed towards yourself to not get embarrassed before you engage in a long photo session full of fascination over a fountain at an arboretum.

Okay, alright, let’s get this over with.  

The cause of your dubiousness is Jongho. 

He has pointed out several times that while taking photos you tend to get absorbed and switch into questionable positions just to score a worthy shot. 

You somehow manage to capture moderate looking full shots without getting any uncanny looks from the visitors around with only one close up shot left. 

The star of the fountain, the water nymph. 

It’s alright. Hopefully nobody finds you getting on one knee to capture a decent picture of the fountain uncanny. 

You’re just a harmless college girl who wants to text her boyfriend, excite him about your possible future dates and hunt for food while waiting for the two little devils to return and get working before it’s too late. 

Gentle sprinkles splash onto your face as you move a little closer with careful steps to find the best spot. The water is enticing on this boiling day.

You hold your phone up, adjusting the angle to your liking. “Okay that’s good.” 

Before you can press the capture button, a pair of hands lock around your waist, someone’s weight settling on your shoulder. 

“No, shift it a little more to the right.” A voice, obscured by the earphones, speaks extremely close to your ear, sending a quivering sensation down your spine. 

The first instinct is to freeze, your entire body numbs at the sudden action, heart beating at an alarming speed. 

It is followed by a startling scream of having a stranger’s arms wrapped around your body. The scream pierces through the placidity of the garden, birds from the trees flying away to safety out of fright.

Finally, the adrenaline rush kicks in, your physical senses registering the situation and your reflexes activate. 

The phone still connected with the earphones flies out of your hands and ears, elbows diving back to land double smacks on the intruder’s stomach to get him off your back.  

The old couple look into your direction with a panicked expression and the entire group nearby jilts up and dashes towards you to investigate the source of the scream. 

You turn around to inspect the trespasser who has landed flat on his butt, clutching onto his stomach as continuous groans and curses fall through his lips. 

“(Y/N)! What the hell!” The obscurity long gone, you recognize the familiar voice and its owner. 

Losing the energy in your legs, you fall down into a squatting position. “Seonghwa?” In a panicked state and a hesitant voice, you call his name. 

“No, it’s Ryan Reynolds.” Mockingly, he whimpers, trying to regain his knocked out senses. 

It is indeed your boyfriend who is currently supposed to be in Japan but is in pain because you landed two good elbow punches right on his stomach after his 4 hours of excitement at the airport and two hours of flight and it is definitely, hundred percent confirmed especially, after his eyes meet yours, full of pain and shooting imaginary daggers at you. 

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but two blows right on his abdomen. 

“Park Seonghwa!” You exclaim. 

“Nope, no, I am not Park Seonghwa anymore.” He states in a faltering tone. 

“Miss, are you alright?” A boy from the far away friend circle interjects, stopping in front of you. “Is he bothering you?” His fingers wrap around your arms to pull you up. 

His other two friends help Seonghwa but with a much constrained grab on his arms.  

You look at your boyfriend being held by the two strangers and then at the boy, eyes performing a few puzzled double takes.

“Miss?” The boy reiterates his query. 

You’re dumfounded, your thoughts hazy. 

Collecting the remaining strength in your body, your hands fly in gestures of denial. “No, no, that’s my boyfriend.” 

The boys appear skeptical. They exchange disbelieving glances. 

“Are you sure? If he’s really bothering you, we can call the police right now.” One of the boys holding your boyfriend suggests with the intentions of your safety. 

The frenzied senses simmer down second by second, your hand reaches out to free him from the strangers’ hold. “No, no. Thank you so much for your help but there has been an misunderstanding, that’s all.” 

The boys release him and you replace their hold by linking his arm. 

“He is really my boyfriend. I was just surprised.” You state with complete assurance. 

“It’s also my fault for creeping up behind her. Thank you for watching out. We’re sorry for the disturbance.” Seonghwa takes the cue and bows down a little to offer a sincere apology. 

His other hand rests atop your bound one. Your gaze stays taut on him, following his actions to apologize as well. 

The boys notice your relaxed figure beside him. “Ah alright, so it was a misunderstanding.” 

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, it was. We’re sorry.” You say politely. 

Calculating the situation, the boys exchange final greetings before trusting your relationship and leave you two with a, ‘Be careful with your surprises!’ 

The surroundings stop still until Seonghwa unlinks your arms to intertwine your fingers instead and bends down to pick up your phone. 

“Should we sit somewhere and talk?” He suggests in a composed tone. 

“Oh, right, yes.” You answer, mentally occupied collecting the dispersed bits of your comprehension grip.

You two settle on the broad bench, previously occupied by the old couple who left after the ruckus, facing each other.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” You search for his eyes that meet yours in a span of millisecond after the raised enquiry.

Your fingers contract and expand with hesitancy near his abdomen where you, or more accurately, your reflexes stroke him a blow. Eyes fluctuate up and down, from his face to the injured area, teeth abusing the lower lip with worry. 

His hands catch and close around your awkward ones, “It hurts but I am fine. It might be bruised but it’ll be gone with time.”  

You look at him, face full of regret, “Seonghwa, I am so sorry.” 

“It’s alright, (Y/N).” He says with the most assuring look that there is in this world, “I mean it.” 

You were worried that he might be mad about the commotion but him unlinking your arms in order to hold your hand was an indication enough that he wasn’t. 

His anger is often intelligible. He needs the time to stay mad, cool down and talks only when he is ready. The time creates an emotional distance and that distance is unbearable until his heart is ready to resolve. 

He doesn’t hold petty grudges. He certainly forgives but he doesn’t forget. Instead, he draws the line in the relationship to grow apart naturally. 

You happened to experience it once when he was conversing with a senior who had given him a hard time and oh boy, the line he drew was fiery and bone chilling cold at the same time. 

“So, that was definitely not what I expected after I decided to surprise you.” He confesses, his eyes mellow, “I should’ve listened to Hongjoong when he said that the idea is too sappy.”  

While he speaks, you’re occupied with staring at him like a hawk with bulbous eyes. 

“What happened?” He prompts you to speak, a fond smile on his lips. “Cat got your tongue?” His fingers fix the disheveled hair resting on your forehead. 

His eyes hold such raw warmth while he merely tucks little strands behind your ears that you fail to realize you have tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Hey, why are you crying?” His expression shifts into a concerned one. “What happened?” He probes further. 

Before you register your actions, your hand is flying to land a soft blow on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were returning today!” 

Maybe the volcanic eruption that was swirling inside San somehow descended into you. The difference is, his was motivated by rage and yours might be motivated by mortification.

He retrieves his hand to hold the area you’re attacking, gaping as he rubs the sore spot. 

“Why are you hitting me!” His expression is muddled. 

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you hitting him after he attempts to calm you down as his plan of surprise fails worse than the time he had failed history in sixth grade. 

Your hand reaches out to land another gentle smack. “What are you! A freaking saint! Why didn’t you tell me!” 

Even you are not aware why the outlet chosen by your feelings is hitting your loving and caring boyfriend who planned such a great surprise that you managed to ruin by knocking him straight into the abdomen with your pointy elbows. 

“Wait, what--” Your words only further deepen his confusion.  

The next smack or rather love tap, as per your definition, doesn’t get through as his hands are quick to catch yours by the wrists. 

“Why are you hitting me babe?” He tilts his head to the side. “You’re hitting me because I am nice?” He lifts his right brow. “What, a saint?” A playful smile lingers on his lips. 

The audacity of this man to act coy with you when you are full of all sorts of emotions whirling within you like a raging tornado. The audacity of this perfectly, perfect man! 

With your slightly puffy eyes and tears stained cheek, you profess. “I am embarrassed okay! I am really embarrassed, I screamed so----” 

A tch sound comes from him, followed by a, “Idiot.” 

He pulls you into him through the hold he has on your wrists, your chest colliding with his. His arms wrap around your waist in a secure manner, head resting sideways onto the comfort of your shoulder that he dearly missed. 

You melt like an ice cream on a hot day under his touch, taking no time to find content in his embrace, face nestling into his warm neck. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He removes one hand from your waist to offer comforting caresses on the back of your head. “I don’t know what I expected your reaction to be. Honestly, this particular one didn’t even cross my mind.” 

You lift your head from his neck but he quickly returns it down again. 

“I didn’t expect you to appear in front of me a week before your actual arrival either.” You speak in a muffled voice.

He pauses his stroking for a second, “I knew you were clueless but I didn’t know you were this clueless.” 

“Excuse me!” You shuffle in his hold but he has you latched onto him.

He nestles further into your hold, almost pulling you onto his lap out of habit. 

“Seonghwa!” Palms pressing against his chest, you try to scuffle away and receive a disgruntled noise from him. 

Having performed his action only halfway through, your right leg sits on top of his left thigh and you leave it there to dangle idly. 

“Dude, we’re in a public place.” You remind him, placing a sneaky little peck on his neck. 

It’s the courage after announcing you’re an idiot to the entire world.

He is astounded by your actions but definitely not as much as you are. 

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you mentioning that you’re in public and then proceeding to plant the softest kiss on his neck, not that he minds the latter. 

“Wise words coming from you in a public place.” His thumbs trace circles on your collar bones, voice adding an extra emphasis to the ‘public’. 

He squeezes you tightly and moves you in his hold like you’re his own personal teddy bear causing laughter to escape from your lips. 

“Giving you a basic hug after you come back after almost a month and a half?” You declare like you have performed some high and mighty act, “No, that is not enough to express my excitement, I had to smash out my love on you, babe.”  

His face dawns an unimpressed look. “Yup, I made a mistake coming home.” 

Your own words cause your face to scrunch up with cringe. “Yeah, that was too much, don’t talk about this in front of anyone, ever again.” 

You missed him. God, you missed him so much. 

His long hair is intact, not a single strand has been snipped. He looks as stunning as you imagined him to be. His navy blue coat may have been washed with a different detergent than the one you are familiar with but the earthy smell of his regular perfume is present. 

The only new additions on him that you can notice right away is the blinding glow on his sleep deprived face and the abstract patterned scarf wrapped neatly around his neck. 

“I missed you.” You wish to say it as softly as possible but you end up blurting out the words. 

He smiles with twinkles in his eyes. “I know, idiot. I missed you too.” 

You rest your palms on his cheeks and press them hard, lips protruding out in a pout. Pulling him in, you offer him a brief peck.

A long one is saved for later when in private. 

The heat on his cheeks is an evidence that he is taken aback by your bold actions. 

“First a kiss on the neck and now a long peck?” He smirks, eyebrows dancing up and down. “You’ve become quite gutsy within a month and a half huh?”

You fawn, “and you’re still carrying your mischievous habits with you! I was praying for you to leave them behind during your vacation. Did you achieve nothing?” 

“Come here you!” His hand clasps behind your neck but this time he connects his lips to the side of your forehead to plant the deepest kiss. 

You shriek as the prolonged peck soon transitions into pillowy lips peppering feathery kisses on every little endearing spot he discovers to shower his love. 

Unable to suppress your delight, subdued giggles bubble out of you.

The delight of having him by your side again is indescribable. The current state of happiness you’re feeling is indescribable. 

You feel his hovering lips expanding into a smile, foreheads faintly clashing together as you two laugh your heart out. 

There are tears forming in your eyes but this time due to happiness rather than humiliation.

Your eyes catch the sun dipping below the horizon, shooting colourful rays as it bids goodbye for the day. “Seonghwa, look, the sunset, it’s so beautiful.” You note while he pulls you into him sideways.

He hums, turning around to admire the view,  “Oh wow, that’s......beautiful.” 

Time slows down just for the sun to submerge into the horizon with its glory. The orange, pink, purples and blues of the sky press mute on the world for the briefest interval. 

He ruffles your hair, pulling you out of a trance, “And that’s our cue to leave.” 

It takes special effort to abandon his comforting hold and get back up on your two feet. 

The disappointment lasts a mere second as his fingers quickly interlace with yours. “Where to next?” He asks.

He takes slow steps. You stick close by, half of your body weight leaning into him but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

You consider your choices for a moment, the grin ever present on your lips, “How about we take a walk and then drive to the river side? I heard there will be star gazing event later at night.” 

He looks at you impressively with a questioning smile. “Oh really, who told you that?” A gentle gleam of fondness floats in his eyes. 

His heart is swelling with love, your presence is comfortable. 

You channel your best know-it-all face, “Oh, you know, Wooyoung, San and I were planning to--” 

The sentence stops midway as you remember, Wooyoung and San! 

Your movements halt, “Wait, Wooyoung and San!” 

He cracks up at your delayed realization. 

“They’ll be fine.” His fingers offer a gentle flick on your forehead, attempting to tap some sense into it, “Unless, you know, you want them to continuously comment during our date about how my arrival disrupted their last night’s sleep.” He reaches out for his pocket to pull out his phone but you’re quick to prevent the said action. 

“No, no, no, no.” Your reaction amuses him further. ���That’s not what I meant. I am glad they ditched me, goodness, never been so glad that someone left me behind, swear to god.” The flurry of words scatter everywhere but the intended meaning has been received by him.

“And what else do you have planned for the night?” He asks, walking straight, exaggerating the breadth of his shoulders. 

“My fantastic company, Seonghwa, what else do you need?” In a wounded voice, you question. 

He shakes his head. 

“No?” 

“No.” 

“Fine, tonight’s dinner is on me, no budget. What do you want to eat?” You present your best offer in the most sugar coated tone.

His jaw drops in a dramatic fashion you’ve never witnessed in your life, “That’s it? Woman, I flew in today to surprise you today and that’s it?” 

You stand on your tiptoes to whisper a special spell in his ear. “Who said that would be it?” 

The rasp in your voice has goosebumps rising on his skin. 

“What do you mean?” He stares down, eyes wide. 

“Hey, by the way, how did you know I was near the fountain?” You quickly change the subject, your thoughts running wild and heart ready to pounce out to run a hundred mile marathon. 

“What do you mean?” He repeats, eager to receive an answer. 

His innocent smile has been replaced by a devilish smirk.

His constant questioning and hopeful gape has you regretting your previous words, causing warmth to spread on your face. 

Flustered, you recite your question for the second time, “Tell me, how did you know?” 

“It was a guess. I haven’t forgotten about your pigeon feeding adventures near the mall fountain” His answer is concise, to the point and hurried. “Now, tell me, what do you mean?” 

He finishes the topic within a few seconds, arm nudging persistently against the side of your stomach.

This man. Oh god, this man. 

“You have a great memory! You remember everything!” The fake enthusiasm and flustered laughter that is evident in your answer has him laughing. “Oh, look, we’re here!” You announce, feeling grateful once you spot the main exit getting closer with every step. 

“What did you mean?” He takes quick steps to stand in front of you, his hand leaving yours. 

“Seonghwa! Stop it, don’t get back on your teasing shenanigans so quickly, give it a day.” You say as casually as possible, stepping aside to continue on your way. “I’ve embarrassed myself and you quite enough for today.”

Seonghwa slings his arm around your shoulder from behind, “Yeah, alright, we’ll see about that later.” He mimics your casual tenure. “I guess.” He adds, hinting at your suggestive statement. 

You nod in agreement, appearing calm and cool, “Yeah, I guess, we will.” 

“You little tease.” His free hand gives your left cheek a little squeeze, leaving a light aching.

You stumble a little on your way out of the garden, “If I am a tease that makes you the devil that you truly are.” 

“I agree, I am a beast.” He really, actually, dares to say that with his whole chest, out loud.

“Yeah, sure, little baby.” Your fingers mockingly stroke his chin with a pout

He chuckles, changing his position to properly stand by your side. “Enough of that now, let’s go, I am starving.” 

“Yup, let’s go, tender beast.” You imitate his own words on him. 

“No, seriously, stop that.” He declares sternly. 

You do a motion of zipping your lips, holding your free hand up in surrender. 

Oh, how the tables have been turning constantly today. You can now understand why Seonghwa never gets off your back and it looks like you will not be getting off his tonight. 

Metaphorically and literally. 

Meanwhile, Woosan

San, who has been talking with the professor for almost thirty minutes now: It was pleasure meeting up with you Sir

Wooyoung, releasing a sigh of relief beside his friend because he didn’t understand a single word that was exchanged, internally: Finally 

Suddenly, San: Oh btw sir I had another question 

Wooyoung, ready to create a rampage right there and then, grabbing a chair to smash it on the ground: OH MY FREAKING GOD DAMNIT CHOI SAN YOU---

🌸

A/N: OH MY GOD I CAN FINALLY POST THIS, I CAN FINALLY BREATHE EASY

I started writing this last Saturday and it went through so many drafts and versions, getting cut down to this one. It took me a week mostly due to other commitments. I edited this once and I am sure it still has teeny tiny mistakes but please look past that for now. I will correct it whenever time grants me. 

Also, I would really love to know what you think about this chapter! Please let me know, I would really appreciate that 🥺🥺🥺💕

I know it has been a long time since the last update but I reposted the masterlist with the final update schedule and it will update and end accordingly as per that.

(Also the woosan scene is a little exaggeration, they had a rough night, as you will see in the bonus) 

🌸 Taglist: 

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @missiopk @preets-kpop-world @sanisms @jiyeons-closet @hongjoongsnoona @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @jaeminbluee @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @yellow-wxve @uppiespuppy  @uppiespuppy @mingiflower @multiangell @quicklystickystarlight​ @kunhye​ @nekee-lilac02​ @peachyprincessminki​ @hidden-wildflowers​ @raysanshine​ @skzpleasestay​ @tearvantae​

🌸 Unable to tag: @mingiibabiee @dreamie-deonghwa @9songbird19 @retrofuture-ism @aratrikade

🌸

Please do not repost, modify or claim this work as yours. 

[nightcoremoon]

it's evident people haven't watched enough kids media to adequately understand just what constitutes a kids show as opposed to a show that kids can watch and be entertained by

when I was a kid I watched king of the hill and blues clues (among other things). king of the hill is NOT a kids show by any stretch of the imagination; it is an adult animation, replete with fairly heavy subject matter, sexual themes, political humor, cultural references that kids won't understand, discussion of religion in the modern day, depression and suicidal thoughts, adultery, puberty and sexual awakenings, body image, propane, propane accessories, and ultimately above all else what it means to be family. and blues clues is a show about a man who plays with a shovel & pail, talks to his condiments and mailbox, and sometimes he teleports into the felt dimension, all while playing Sherlock Holmes hercule poirot with his dog, and teaching kids how to count and draw and recognize colors and learn their ABCs. do you see the fucking difference? no? then I'll make it more clear.

dora the explorer & go diego go, mickey mouse clubhouse, handy manny, octonauts, bob the builder, super why, wild kratts, zoboomafoo, jojo's circus, wow wow wubbzy, stanley, doc mcstuffins, max & ruby, wonder pets, bubble guppies, ni hao khai lan, backyardigans, little einsteins, caillou (ugh) and p*w p*trol (double ugh), these are all undeniably kids shows. their audience is children (and the occasional adult by age with severe intellectual disabilities) and maybe the parents whose brains are too fried to care what's on the tv. these shows main purpose is to educate while entertaining on subjects one would encounter in preschool and kindergarten. counting 1-10, ABCs, basic color, basic language, basic intrapersonal skills, basic emotional literacy, problem solving, using your imagination, what sounds do animals make, breaking the fourth wall to ask the audience to answer what's 2+2 or tell them a lesson they learned today like I LEARNED TO NEVER JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER or some simple message like that. it's always light, there's no edgelord grimdark "what if they were dead the whole time" bullshit. it's just good clean simple wholesome [except for paw patrol] programs for kids to be distracted for a little bit of time, while also letting them walk away having said they learned something. at least half of the time dedicated to every single one of these shows is devoted to the same shit over and over again. I'm the map I'm the map I'm the map I'm the map I'm the map I'm the map WE FUCKING GET IT YOURE THE MAP! backpack backpack I'm the backpack loaded up with things and knickknacks too, anything that you might need I've got inside for you. we did it we did it we did it HOORAY! come on vamanos everybody let's go, come on let's get to it, I know that we can do it,

WHERE ARE WE GOING

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

THESE SONGS ARE BURNED INTO MY BRAIN AND THEYLL BE STUCK IN MY HEAD UNTIL I DIE

say click take a pic, the hot dog dance, CAN HE FIX IT???, pizza! spaghetti!, THE DOC IS IN AND SHELL FIX YOU UP, max & ruby ruby & max max & ruby ruby & max MAX & RUBY RUBY & MAX MAX & RUBY RUBY & MAX, wonder pets wonder pets we're on our way to help the friend and save the day, we're not too big and we're not too tough but when we work together we've got the right stuff, goooOOO WONDER PETS YAAAAY~, yoooour backyard friends the backyardigans (weve got the whole wide world in our yard to explore, thATS WHY EVERY DAY WEEEEERE BACK FOR MOOOORE), were going on a trip in our little rocket ship SOARING THROOOOOUGH THE SKY!!! little einsteins!

I swear to god I've been forced to watch so much children's television in my life it's no wonder there's no room left for serotonin executive function or the ability to speak to morons

point is I know my way around kids shows. my sisters were born in 98, 02, 05, 06, 10, and 18, I think, I don't even know because they're all a blur, I'm literally closer in age to my parents than to my youngest sibling, I never stopped being exposed to kids shows. I know what is and is not a kids show.

adventure time? not a kids show even though kids watch it. it's a "for everyone" show. it's got a target audience of 100% of the planet. steven universe? not a kids show even though kids watch it. miraculous ladybug? not a kids show even though kids watch it. scooby doo? not a kids show even though kids watch it. I'm not discussing the history of adult acceptance of animation, adult animation, or anime, so don't ask. dexter's laboratory. the grim adventures of billy & mandy. codename kids next door. teen titans. fairly oddparents. kim possible. invader zim. AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER. totally spies. courage the cowardly dog. the proud family. SPONGEBOB F*ING SQUAREPANTS. powerpuff girls. foster's home for imaginary friends. oh yeah you know what's coming next. my little goddamn pony friendship is mother fucking magic is not. a. kids. show. even though kids can watch it. it is a cartoon. it is an everyone show. that's why it's disingenuous and fucking stupid to decry any fan over the age of 7 as a pedophile and a weirdo creep; it participates in the infantilization of femininity. why is it ok for 20somethings to keep watching aang and squidward and finn & jake and zim and "return the slab" and everyone's totally fine wth that but when it's twilight sparkle suddenly everyone's like whoa you're a huge fucking loser for watching this girly wussy baby show for girly wussy babies. oh some bronies are sex crazed perverts? I'm sorry have you seen just how much porn there is for spongebob? oh some bronies are cringe? I'm sorry have you met half the steven universe fandom? oh some bronies are fascist rick sanchez kinnies with fedoras and katanas? BREAKING BAD FANS, HELLO!?!?!?

this is such a stupid tiring boring argument. maybe magic talking horses being friends and turning their friendship into magic rainbow nuclear fucking arms and blasting the evil out of a demon and turning her into the coolest fucking half-unicorn biker lesbian in the world is something that brings me, and adult, pure wholesome joy, in between bojack horseman and dark souls and breaking bad and deftones and fallout new vegas and jojo and cannibal corpse and other bleak depressing edgy shit that also brings me comfort. and MAYBE me at 16 starting to watch MLP:FIM becoming finally comfortable with the outward public expression of "traditionally feminine" interests is the main reason why I realized I was a girl when I did, and MAYBE I just like how pretty the colorful ponies look, AND MAYBE I KIN WITH ONE OR TWO OR EIGHT CHARACTERS, WHAT OF IT?

AND MAYBE ITS LITERALLY THE BEST LONG RUNNING FANTASY TV SERIES ON THE MARKET RIGHT NOW* SINCE GAME OF THRONES FUCKING SUCKS

but whatever, kids watch it sometimes so it's illegal for anyone who's not a kid to enjoy it, but only if it's something girly because liking girly things is bad because girliness is inherently bad, and the only things that are good have predominantly male casts*. right? right??? wrong, fucker. g4mlp has so much more in common with adventure time & atla than with blues clues or dora the fucking explora...r.

but keep in mind I'm saying this while hugging a blues clues plushie my grandma gave me for valentine's day because it reminds her of when I was a baby because I may not watch blues clues but it still means a lot to me for nostalgia and is 50% of the reason why I love ray charles. kids media isn't necessarily bad. I still do enjoy watching it with my little sisters. all this is is me being anal about categorization because I'm autistic and I LIVE for categorizing everything.

*besides atla obviously

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

The first thing you notice is the bite. It stings, throbs, bleeds. It's not a clean wound, not like a minor bite from a dog or cat. Not a few neat little punctures, or some gashes that would at least stitch up neatly. No. It's an ugly rip, the torn flesh from blunt teeth that are not and never were designed for biting. It's still startling how the human's muscles are powerful enough to bite through skin like that anyway. Strong enough to rip out a chunk, if you got snagged in a soft, tender place.

The next thing you notice is the infection. If you're lucky, you can use some precious water to wash off the bite and some gauze to wrap it, but most people aren't so lucky. Most have to rely on strips of acceptably dirty, sweaty fabric from old clothes, if they can even spare that much. Most don't want to "waste" a resource as precious as clean, drinkable water. So infection sets in fast and hard. Within a few days, your wound is a stinking, oozing mess. It's painful. Painful to look at, painful to touch, painful to move. It's swollen as your body desperately tries to fight the concoction of bacteria introduced from being bitten by a decomposing mouth. Then it itches. It itches madly. It itches so much you won't be able to sleep. It itches so bad that if you stop focusing on it, you'll find a surge of new pain as you've absently scratched it and started to bleed again, so you have to keep thinking about how badly you should never scratch the itch. Maybe you'll have a raw spot, where you've been tricking your mind into relief by scratching just above the wound. You might even have dug new cuts into your flesh, more wounds to host infection, more places to sting with pain. 

The itching is the virus taking hold, but you don't know that.

All you know is that you have a swollen, itchy, stinking bite. 

Next comes from the infection. You'll start to get a fever. Your bite will swell more, and feel hot. But mostly, you get a fever. Nobody feels good then. You'll switch between being far too hot to freezing cold, you'll sweat in a tank top in the middle of the night or you'll shiver under as many layers as you could possibly procure. You'll get nauseous, so you won't want to eat or drink, leading to more nausea as you dehydrate. As it progresses, you'll feel weaker. It might be harder to breathe normally, you might even feel your heart racing as you sit still. Even just a ten minute walk will exhaust you, but your group has to keep moving. As it goes on, you'll find it harder to keep your grasp on reality. The pain, the nausea, the smell, the weakness, it all blends into one as the virus takes its hold in your mind.

Oh, yeah. It's now when the virus kicks into action, having made it to your brain. Maybe you were taking care of yourself, and the infection actually hadn't gotten that bad through sheer luck and winning the biological lottery. But now the virus has made it to its destination. The first thing it does is impair your immune system. After all, it can't have you fighting it off. It doesn't want you healthy. If you're healthy, things get complicated. That natural system has to go, so away it goes. If you were sick, you'll suddenly find yourself getting sicker.

Next, it overrides your appetite. Maybe you were just craving crackers and water, maybe you didn't want anything, maybe you ate through the nausea just fine. It changes that. Subtly, day by day, it makes you feel hungrier and hungrier. The kind of hunger that sits in your belly and gnaws at your bones from the inside. It's also an unnatural craving for meat. Fresh meat, red, straight from the bone. Still warm, still flowing with life. You'll be able to smell your friends now, or the recent tracks of others if you're alone. Of course, you've always been able to smell them, but it got filed away into your subconscious. But now you're aware of it, because that virus tells you it's important. And they will smell decadent. 

It's all the virus, scrambling your neurons to connect hunger and appetite to humans instead of a plate of cookies, cake, fruit, veggies and juicy steak, mashed potatoes and meaty stew, anything you used to enjoy. It will change how you taste. Sweets will stick to your throat, bitters are more bitter, and if you're lucky to have a nice plate of steak, that fresh-grilled meat will taste rotten. What you crave is no longer any real sustenance, your mind has been altered. Now, you won't see a warm hand to hold, because the sight of bare, moving skin activates your salivary glands. The urge to sink your teeth into the soft flesh on a wrist or neck will be overwhelming in the blur of sickness from the infection. And if you do actually bite, especially if you taste blood, the virus will reward you. It'll flood your system with dopamine, and afterwards, for just a few moments, the edge of that hunger will release. It hopes you'll get addicted. It wants you to crave more biting, more flesh, because it feels right, because maybe, just maybe, if you eat enough the hunger will finally go away. 

Finally, it'll change your sense of fear as well. Dangerous situations that instinctively make humans nervous won't affect you. If anything, you'll crave the rush that deadly moments give you, the rush of feeling real and grounded in the midst of the foggy world from the mess in your system. Just fourteen days, and the virus is fully mature and ready to spread. Now, it needs you to die. So it makes you reckless. It does its best to turn a regular, self-preserving person into an actual train wreck. It will actually give you dopamine and serotonin when you get an injury, in a ratio equal to the wound. So, you'll die the happiest you could possibly be from something like a knife through the heart, or a shot through the gut. Some people are driven to jump from heights and impale themselves on something below, or even just hit the pavement and let themselves die wrapped in the gentle hands of joy. Some will just injure themselves, without the help of gravity. Some will aggressively antagonize other humans, hoping they'll eg them into a violent, deadly fight. But generally those people were already jerks in the first place.

Once you've died, however you died, the virus can take over. Because, this whole time, it wasn't really a virus. It was a worm, which starts so tiny you would never stand a chance of noticing it. Tinier even than those little red bugs you might see crawling over paper when you're out in the woods, so small that if you brush your hand over them they become nothing more than a smear of coppery brown. So small and fragile, they couldn't possibly survive outside of a host. But inside a host, they grow. They grow and grow, so thoroughly burying themselves in your brain they may as well have always been in it. When you die, they can finally take control of your muscles, no longer held back by the complexities of the human mind. This is why zombies shuffle and jerk around so awkwardly. They're merely puppets, meaty sacks of flesh controlled from inside by a worm that's found the strings. It knows just which ones to pull which way to make motion happen. It doesn't breathe, not really, all it might use is that sense of smell it learned while you were alive. It will use hearing, because those little organs in your ear won't stop feeling sound just because your body is dead. All those other systems aren't essential for a worm that's single purpose in life is now to find hosts for its own horrible offspring. Because that worm isn't alone. 

It's not one worm. It's dozens of them, all now breeding and gathering their safely hatched larvae on the cold teeth and tongue of the corpse within which they reside. And yes, they might have been able to spread before now, if your environment was just right to keep your mouth the right temperature for this breeding. Yes, you might have infected others while you still lived and breathed in your own skin.

You see, those adults can't reproduce at the natural body temperature of a human, let alone the temperatures they can reach during the height of a fever. So they need that host to die and cool off. It just takes a day. Just one day for enough eggs, enough larvae to let that monstrous parasite begin searching for a new host. Those larvae can't grow in the cold, decomposing bodies of the dead. Although, the adults are surprisingly resilient, uncharacteristically long-lived, for a parasite. And so, the zombie rises, shuffling after any hint of breathing humans to continue their cycle of life and death.

If you crack open a zombie's skull without blasting the contents within into oblivion, you might be able to find dozens of these foot-long worms wiggling in distaste at their unexpected situation.

Of course, all of this depends on the physical and mental toll that getting a severe infection does. Ideally, the parasite doesn't even get to the stage where it has to drive you to seek death, because septic shock has already come and destroyed you from the inside out. So, in theory, it is survivable. If you aren't wracked with sickness, if you have a strong will, you might be able to fight the parasites long enough for them to die. You might just be able to recover.

But that's never happened. Besides, would you even want to survive? How permanent, how treatable are the alterations these parasitic worms cause? No one knows.

Here it is, the zombie "virus" and how it works written in a weirdly disassociated perspective, specifically for the few bitten!hermit headcanons. Feel free to ask questions and write stories! Please tag me in them @basaltdragon, I wanna hear it all •v•

I'm sorry if this triggers anybody (including mod) in any way, it is... a Lot.

[yikes-xander]

000:00:00:00

PLAYLIST ANALYSIS

This is actually me just rambling about my thoughts on each song and why I chose them for this specific playlist rather than like.. an actually good and smart sounding in-depth analysis sorry :/

When I Met You - Ethan Nestor

There are many reasons I chose this one! Mostly the lyrics, but Ethan also sings it so it’s extra fitting for the playlist, especially as the opener.

“When I met you my life was blue, I was so lonely / You took me by surprise” The channel came into my life at the perfect time. I was feeling low, in my last year of high school, struggling with thoughts about the future. It especially helped me through quarantine. Every day I felt like quitting, giving up on putting effort into school/not graduating, but I had something to look forward to every day too, so I pushed through.

“Now you're gone from my life / I'm adrift on the sea” Once the stream ended and the channel was gone, I didn’t know how I felt. I felt sad, but also something I’ve never felt before. After watching Ethan’s video yesterday, hearing him explain he felt the same way, I felt so relieved. I think this lyric kind of describes how I feel now honestly, just kinda numb? Like I’m lost. I’m working on it.

Another Night - Story Untold

More of a light-hearted one now! To me, this song made me think about how good it felt to be a part of the audience.

“Here we go for another night / Another night goofing all around” Everyone (the audience, Mark, Ethan, etc.) having fun every single day? *chefs kiss*

“Laughing 'til our stomachs hurt / And I can't let this moment pass me by” Once again, made me think of all the good times that were a part of the channel, and all the good feelings they gave me.

“So here’s to a night we’ll remember / This is a time we never wanna forget” I think this is kind of self-explanatory? I don’t think any of us want to forget Unus Annus. Personally, it’s literally the best thing I’ve ever had the chance to see happen and be a part of.

100 Bad Days - AJR

This song just gives me good vibes, UA gave me good vibes, it had to be on the playlist. I don’t have much else to say about it.

History - One Direction

This song kind of reminds me of Ethan and Mark separately and UA as a whole. Because like,, they make a great team, they have a lot of history (friends for a long time, Ethan was a fan of Mark before that, etc.)

“You and me got a whole lot of history / So don't let it go, we can make some more, we can live forever” A year is a long time but also feels like no time at all. Sometimes I wish we had more time for UA, but I’m glad I was here for what we got.

“This is not the end” Unus Annus is something I’ll never forget.

Dopamine - With Confidence

Maybe also kind of self-explanatory? Dopamine makes you feel good!! UA also makes me feel good. And the song talks about losing it too so.. yeah

This Is Home - Cavetown

I’m not exactly sure why I felt so drawn to this? But the vibes are immaculate.

“Are you dead? / Sometimes I think I'm dead / 'Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head / But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet” after the stream vibes anyone? Or is it just me? I stayed up way too long after it was over. Too many thoughts head full

“Time is / Slowly / Tracing his face / But strangely he feels at home in this place” Unus and Annus,, the Boys of Time babey!!

Ghost Of You - 5 Seconds of Summer

Again.. The VIBES are IMMACULATE. It’s just a sad song for a sad time.

“Too young, too dumb / To know things like love” I’m just a stupid boy who got emotionally attached to a channel whose whole purpose was to DIE and I’m sensitive about it.

All I Wanted - Paramore

Lyrics make me do a Think

“Wake up early to black and white re-runs” colors of the channel,, thinking about all the vids,, the memories :(

“I could follow you to the beginning / And just to relive the start / And maybe then we'll remember to slow down / At all of our favorite parts” this entire verse?? Oh my god. Absolutely *chefs kiss* I think we all know what I mean and like,, why it gives me UA vibes

The Kids from Yesterday - My Chemical Romance

This song just gives me like sad nostalgic vibes so I thought it fit well.

“... you only hear the music when your heart begins to break” the timer reaches the end and the ticking stops? Heartbreaking, that’s all

I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie

Another song thats just,, sad so it fits

“Love of mine, someday you will die” we knew from the start the the channel would literally die when the clock stopped,,

“It's nothing to cry about 'cause we'll hold each other soon / In the blackest of rooms” shut up I’m mourning someone hold my hand

“I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black” death goddess Amy vibes

I’ll Always Be Around - Waterparks

“If you died I'd hope you'd haunt me / Because you know I'd miss you bad” we all love UA so much!! And miss it a ton already

“I'd never I'd never I'd never get you off my mind” it’s always thinking about Unus Annus hours

Before You Go - Lewis Capaldi

There are multiple lyrics in this song that just make me remember we only have our memories of the channel left

“Our every moment, I start to replace / 'Cause now that they're gone, all I hear are the words that I needed to say” the vids are replaced with only memories, replayed over and over

“Well, time can heal but this won't” I’ll be sad about this forever mind ur business

“But all I can think about is seeing that look on your face” the very last moment of the stream? Amy and Mark looking at the camera, Mark’s lil smile, Ethan looking back at the clock as the last few seconds tick by? AAAAH

Scarlet Cross - Black Veil Brides

Heard this and immediately reverted back to my middle school self but that’s beside the point.

“... you can't deny / The end is coming, the end is coming” we knew from the start that the channel would die

“Will we live? / Will we die? / Just keep on saving our goodbyes” There were points where people were theorizing that the channel wouldn’t actually end, there were clips near the end where the clock reversed by a few seconds, etc. need I say more?

“Hold onto me, and I can't let go” we’re all mourning, we didn’t want to say goodbye I know I’m not the only sad one

Body - Mother Mother

This song just SCREAMS Unus and Annus vibes I think we can all agree

“I've grown tired of this body / Fall apart without me, body” Unus and Annus are just entities using Ethan and Mark’s bodies,, they know their time is up so they have to leave,, the LORE it makes sense okay leave me alone

Here Comes the End - Gerard Way (ft Judith Hill)

At this point I’m just listing lyrics that I vibe with that remind me of UA and also make me sad but that’s because I’m dumb and I don’t know how to express myself or explain my thoughts oops

“The time is running out / The days are moving fast” literally every day after each video,, seeing the clock tick down? My HEART she hurt

“The clock is moving / Hands to midnight / Can we get through this?” For me, the stream ended right at midnight so THE VIBES I was sobbing

When Can I See You Again? - Owl City

“Switch on the sky and the stars glow for you / Go see the world 'cause it’s all so brand new” this lyric remind me of the vid where they were in the desert and they just looked at the stars and had a nice talk it was so wholesome I love them

“It's been fun but now I've got to go / Life is way too short to take it slow” Unus Annus is gone but we all have to remember to live, do what you want with no regrets.

(Don’t Fear) The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult

This one is another pretty self explanatory one honestly

It’s also just a vibe like a lot of the other songs that’s all I have to say about it

Safe and Sound - Capital Cities

This song just radiates such good feelings man oof

Unus Annus felt like such a safe lil bubble for me?? Like,, Mark and Ethan did dumb shit because they WANTED TO I felt so validated like,, I also would do dumb shit if I could that probably makes no sense but I love them so it doesn’t matter

Happiest Year - Jaymes Young

This one absolutely BREAKS MY HEART

“I'm here to admit / That you were my medicine” yall,, UA was the only thing that kept me going and I'm not afraid to admit it

“Thank you for the happiest year of my life” literally the only thing that gave me serotonin oops :/

“So wake me up when they build that time machine / I want to go back” do I need to explain? Even though this year has been shitty irl, I would relive it in a heartbeat

The 3ND - Story Untold

I know this is a breakup song,, but hear me out

Some of the lyrics FIT and it’s my playlist I can do what I want shut up

“I never wanted what we had to end / But now it's over” once again,, no need to explain

“I know we had our dreams and we had plans… / That now it's time to let go” this just makes me think of the video where they talk about the video ideas they had but never filmed or just didn't post,, the CONTENT WE COULD'VE GOTTEN i'm sad

Still Remembering - AS IT IS

These boys.. My fave band of all time but also literally all their songs have immaculate vibes

“My heart's as heavy / As these nights are long” this gives me after the stream feels,, I stayed up way too long after it ended I couldn't sleep because I was sad :/

“Can you tell me what hurts more / Is it remembering or forgetting?” The whole chorus just hits me so hard man I'm so scared that I'm gonna forget unus annus because my brain is shitty even though I know I won't? I’m deadass getting a tattoo as soon as I can

Take Me Away - With Confidence

This song just makes me think about how UA was kind of an escape for me? And a lot of people yknow sometimes you just need to get your mind off of this happening around you and UA was really good for that in my opinion

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Once again saying I would relive this year if I had the chance

Unus Annus was one of a kind, no one will ever be able to recreate it

Where’d All the Time Go? - Dr. Dog

A year sounds like such a long time but it goes by way too fast

Also I think Amy had this on her instagram story after the stream? I don't remember but THE VIBES

This December - Ricky Montgomery

Why do so many ricky montgomery songs have UA vibes? Idk

“Well, this December, I'll remember / Want you to see it when I do” UA ended in november,, we’ll remember in december and forever it FITS

“It’s just a little bit, It’s just a little bit / Lonely in this home / It’s always colder on your own'' honestly now that UA is gone there's like,, a void and I'm sad (I keep saying that but it's true so..)

When You Die - MGMT

Maybe this is the song Amy had in her story after the stream? Again,, I don’t remember

I think this one is also pretty self explanatory

Except I was feeling A LOT when the channel died but I’m glad the team was also kinda in their feels a bit yknow? It made me feel better about it

Good Times - All Time Low

“Underneath the stars we came alive / And singing to the sky just felt right / I won't forget the good times” once again,, that stargazing vid? IM CRYING all the vids gave me so much serotonin I loved them all and each day was such a good day

“I'll hate the goodbye” I don't need to explain..

“Middle fingers up, ego trip / Devil may care but we didn't mind” the chaotic vibes of the channel is what sucked me in I live for chaos that's what this lyric makes me think of

Goodnight, Travel Well - The Killers

I don't think I really need to explain this one because,, just listen to the song and you'll get it but I'll just list some fave lyrics of mine

“There's nothing I can say / There's nothing we can do now” end of the stream vibes for sure

“And all that stands between the souls release / This temporary flesh and bone / We know that it's over now” Unus and Annus vibes

Line Without a Hook - Ricky Montgomery

This is one of the songs that I hear a lot in like edits I see on twitter and stuff associated with UA and I Get It the vibes are so good the song is so good I love it

“Oh, baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you / I need you here to stay” one of my fave lyrics and also just,, makes sense I miss UA

As the World Caves In - Matt Maltese

Another song that's in a lot of edits and stuff that's also,, amazing and MAKES SENSE the vibes!!

“And here it is, our final night alive” the STREAM

“You put your finest suit on / I paint my fingernails / Oh we're going out in style babe” Our boys,, Unus and Annus in the suits and eths painted nails? An absolute LOOK

I just love this song so much its so good and makes me so sad

The End. - My Chemical Romance

This song is just So Sad

And the heart monitor beeping in the beginning?? Reminds me of the clock ticking my heart is BROKEN

If you actually read all of this? I love you!! This was 6 pages so thank you for sticking through and listening to all of my dumb thoughts

[i-am-parsec]

                                                                                                              11/02/2020

Hey, so...I had a bit of a crisis a couple days ago and now I’m here, writing again. I think I can still picture your smug look whenever I’d admit I was “wrong”, even if my memory is very unreliable these days, I can still see it and I know for a fact that’s the look you’re giving me right now. You little shit.

Um, they are probably not gonna like reading that. They don’t like it when I “pretend I can actually communicate with my missing, most likely already dead ex husband”. Weird, right? Like I don’t see how that would disturb them, ha.

I suppose I now should explain to you who “they” are. I’m talking about my doctors, Dr. Richard Willson and Dr. Alexandra Freias, who, little fun fact, my sister hired solely on the basis of her being 1. A woman and 2. Latina. I guess she thought I’d “bond” better with someone who looked more like, but the funny bit is that Dr. Freias’ mother is Russian and she looks like a photocopy of her mother. What I’m trying is that, not only was my sister’s idea dumb, she also did a terrible job at executing it because my doctor looks white as hell. She is nice, though, and I’m grateful about that. And no, Dr. Freias, I am not writing that just so you’ll forgive me for destroying your brand new phone yesterday but yes, I am very sorry about that, or at least as sorry as I can be these days and I promise my dumb sister will replace it as soon as possible.

I’m gonna have to get used to the idea of these letters having a bigger audience than before. In the sake of my little agreement with my lovely health professionals, I’ll be open and honest and admit...I don’t like it, it makes me uncomfortable to share this, my only safe space, with people who are basically strangers to me, but I am aware this decision was taken for the sake of everyone's peace of mind. When I’m writing, I’m focused, more relaxed, less prone to spiral down after Dr. Willson gives me a mocking look and sighs at the mention of your name, Chase, so this is a good thing: I get to talk to you and my doctors get a bit of insight on what’s going on inside my mind without me losing my shit and breaking everything around me, something they claim to desperately need.

I am a woman of my word, so I will continue this little daily exercise if that is what everyone thinks is best for me, even if I can’t help but laugh at the idea that this might give them any kind of extra data about me or you or anything related to this mess our lives have been for the past couple of years. I’ve already told them everything, from the very beginning. They refuse to listen, I refuse to give in and spew the nonsense they are trying to feed me instead of the truth I already know, then we all get frustrated and eventually...we start the cycle again. Circles, we are just going on and on in these fucking circles and it does annoy me, but I guess I have accepted it to a certain degree - I’m stuck. This is my life now, an eternal retelling of the hell I’m trapped into, while being trapped within said hell. 

I am lost here, Chase, lost and blind. But I keep moving, even if I know how it is all going to end, I still walk. I walk towards you, mi amor. You are my North, my compass in a world without poles, paths or direction. Ever since we were kids I’ve been doing that. You gave me purpose in a pointless world, a home in a deserted land, a glimmer of Hope among absolute darkness...so I’ll do my part, I’ll take my medicine, I’ll go to my appointments, I’ll write my letters. I’ll be good, I swear, for you, for the kids, for my sister - who bends over and backwards for me, even if I can’t seem to forgive her-, hell, even for my doctors, who refuse to actually listen to me but also refuse to give up.

Oh, before I go, in case you were wondering why I had the mental breakdown: I was telling the doctors about our wedding and it hit me that it was the 31st. I got quiet for a second, a bit teary and informed them that that day would have been our ten year anniversary. I laughed when Dr. Freias pointed out that we got married on Halloween and told her it was on purpose, that you love this holiday so much that you begged me for months to let you proclaim your undying love for me in front of our few friends, both of us being in full costume in our tiny backyard.

That’s when it all went sideways. “Undying love”. Dr. Willson just had to remind me with a smirk that we are divorced. I would like to explain in more detail what happened after that but truth be told, I don’t know. Last thing I remember was staring at him, my whole body shaking and then, dropping under water. It's a familiar sensation by now, but it never gets less disturbing or less violating. When I was back in control of my body, the room was a mess, I had three men holding me down and Dr. Willson’s forehead was bleeding.

I do not forgive him for the unnecessary remark about my civil status but I do regret, greatly, ever hurting him and I appreciate him not quitting. I don’t know why he wouldn't, I’m just glad I don’t have to deal with a new smug asshole who thinks they have the right pill and therapy combination to fix my unfixable brain. At this point in my life, I will always rather stick with the devil I know than the devil I don’t, and besides, Richard is no devil. I should know.

It’s late now, almost 8, so I’ll send this to Dr. Freias and be on my way to bed. See you there, my love.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Link to all the chapters in chronological order, here. Link to the last chapter, if you can even call it that, here.

Well. Here’s the thing. I am too broke for therapy and too uninspired to write anything original that could probably be more nurturing to my soul than a fanfic that I started 2 years ago...so I’m here, back to my bullshit. And also, Sean is finally dropping some new crispy fresh ego content so I guess...I’m doing this. I’ll be posting daily, the quality will be shit, there might be no actual progress to the plot and it is going to be mainly me just using Stacy to vent. I have little to nothing going on in my life right now, and I vaguely remember I used to get joy from writing so in order to get even the slightest bit of serotonin, I set myself the goal of writing everyday, no word minimum or special prompt in mind, I’m just going to write, and if it’s good, great and if nobody reads, fine. I’m just trying to get back whatever pieces of myself I can find, which I think is a feeling this character can very much relate to. That might be why I’m returning to her.

Or maybe it’s the fact that I was very invested in her before I fell in love and then I was so engrossed in my relationship that I completely forgot about her and then I had my heart broken in a million tiny pieces, losing any kind of sense of self or purpose in life and now, almost six months after my first real breakup, I’m trying to rebuild myself and I secretly hope that going back to Stacy, a character that was very dear to me, I can find whatever it is that I’m looking for. Maybe, but who’s to say?

Anyway, if you read all of that bullshit (and I mean the whole post, not just my after-chapter ranting), I feel like I owe you some kind of reimbursement for emotional damages. Sadly, I’m poor, so all I can offer you are memes. You can slide on my DMs for your payment of memes. Do not feel the need to ask me how I’m doing, I am doing Fine...in the sense of I will not be yeeting myself from a rooftop any time soon, no matter how sad I might sound, I’m just a whiny bitch using writing as a coping mechanism. I’m okay, like not really, super mega hyper ok but I’m ok. If you’re concerned, I appreciate you but don’t be. I’m writing to deal with my feelings, that’s like, healthy, right? So yeah, we good. 

see u tomorrow

❤️Tag list❤️: @amyxmiaplay @beckofthewoods @closedworldofmathiel @darktrash-drash @fanfictionrecommendations-com @flyingfishflopsthings @fruitycasket @hiimizzyxoxo @hishex @scarlet-mangata @mcomegalletas @mijako98 @mysterious-cupcake-ninja @mysticalanimallover @novasingalaxies @plutoandpolaris @probablyghosting @randomartdudette @saltyweirdbi @scarlet--raven @septicuniverse @skyewardlight @thevampireauthoress @youllnevertaketheskyfromme @rats-this-username-is-taken

[luobingmeis]

so im just gonna vent/monologue for a hot second and idc who does or does not read this but we’re just gonna be super chill abt it and not read too deeply into the stuff that i say, so!!!

and if i delete this in the morning, ignore all this!!!

i think the best way to start this post off in general is “i had a bunch of stuff i wanted to vent abt but from the shower to here (total of like 5 minutes) i have forgotten most of it”

which is very on brand bc i don’t remember most things nowadays ajkdjkdskj

anyways tho also shout out to my lack of emotional object permeance bc i have been in such a Not Fun State for X days (bc i dont really remember when this started this week akjdsjkdsjk) and i cannot remember what started it nor can i fully process that i have only been in this state for like A Few Days and not like........................ weeks

but i think that is also due to the fact that i do, in fact, bounce back and forth between “hey things are fine idk why i ever thought they were bad :)” and “hey things are bad idk why i ever thought they were fine :)”

it also doesn’t help that. every day. i am analyzing the complicated relationship i have with my parents. specificaly my mom. and it definitely isn’t fun to think abt.

basically every day i think abt that scene from the breakfast club when they all talk abt how they’re fated to become their parents, no matter how hard they try not to be, and it especially fucks me up when i think abt how much me and my mom are alike, in both the good and the bad, and i’m just like “hmm am i just being a shitty daughter (possible) or do i have to figure out how to fix this (don’t know how) or am i just gonna have to break the chain eventually (upsetting!)”

but that is deeply upsetting to think and talk abt so :^)

and i also think a lot abt how i’m 99% sure ********** runs in our family which i guess i’ll have to deal with eventually even tho it doesn’t really. affect me rn. i guess!

let it be known that i do love my parents very much!! i just. have too many thoughts in my head.

also i get nervous throwing terms around bc im scared of being wrong but i genuinely think i have like. adhd and/or depression and/or anxiety and also i think there’s something messy going on with my empathy which is!! also upsetting!!!!

but tbh i have never been more. like. resistant to treatment in my life than i am right now. so i just deal with all of this in my brain.

also i’m kinda just back into my way of “consume the same media over and over and let it just become my whole personality so i can feel like a normal person” except that makes, like, idk “coming back to reality” a bitch bc i have spent the past?? 24/48 hours feeling like i’m on and off floating through space and time

also ik that this will all probably be over in a couple days, idk maybe even tomorrow!!! but for rn i’m just :^)

also me and my best friend were talking today and he said something like “i think everyone has certain things they do that just make them feel bad” and i kinda just nodded along bc i knew that my answer of “well i basically at this point purposely keep a shitty sleep schedule and, even when i wake up at 11am, i basically don’t let myself eat until 4/5pm bc, besides having some things i probably need to unpack, i also find something terribly grounding in feeling shitty” would Not go over well 

also there is no way i am mentally and emotionally ready to go back to school in september, like i say this every year and i think at this point i just need to accept that i’ve wasted away my college years feeling shitty and i will never get this back!!!! which is. fun.

also i’m doing so many things this semester that i don’t want to do bc apparently i care abt what other people want more than i do. for some stupid reason.

also ngl i’ve come to the realization that sometimes my brain is just not a great place to be akjdkjdskj

also i have to do my thesis this semester and i already feel behind and next semester i’m barely gonna get to see my professors/friends except for like one or two days a week so while a part of me literally does not want to step foot on my campus/in a class room bc i am So Not Ready, i also feel like i’m basically gonna have no support that will be tangible to me 

anyways tho i’ve fully brought taz/dnd back into my life so that is always an upside!! and i mean that unironically, like. when in doubt. taz/dnd will give me my serotonin and fantasy escapism that i crave <3

i feel like i could say more but at this point i’m just tired!!! so, to quote adam parrish, “i want to feel awake when my eyes are open”

[ohoshi]

omg first i need to talk about nct at song festival (gayo daechukjae) umm first of all mark and taeyongs rap was so good but ofc we all knew they would kill it. and then in nct U class, teacher taeyong looked so good...the way he bit that pointer stick thing in the beginning was so sexc (and the hair and the glasses ahdsfasjf) 😳 but also sungchans rap in that?? i was not expecting that but why am i even surprised anymore.. and also misfit live?? i loved nct's school uniform concept too for some reason ahahaha

and then xiaojun in resonance!! wow yes go shine xj!!! (also idk why but i found it so funny when it was doyoung's turn after xj, but xj was kinda blocking dy (who was really walking with a PURPOSE) so dy lightly pushed him out of the way) and then omg shotaro!! offstage he is so 😊 but damn in hard carry he was so good!! ahh and then also the thing where all the kpop artists at gayo daechukjae sang that song was so cute (i smiled so hard when nct came up 🥺)

yea for my job situation i think it will be okay, i talked to some people i know/mentors about it too and i think things will work out...they always do in the end right? 😊 now about anime LOL this is making me wanna start/rewatch an anime now hahahah! honestly i kind of have phases where i alternate between kdramas and animes, but i havent rly watched anime much lately besides haikyuu (which i was also surprised was still airing (but it's only season 2 so far?)). kpop (aka NCT) has been consuming my life lmao but im here for it 😂

weightlifting fairy was also my first kdrama!! yes i can totally give u some kdrama recs! besides the ones i mentioned before (which are most of my top ones), i also liked chicago typewriter, marriage not dating (i love the fake relationship trope hahaha), dinner mate, sky castle (it's kinda intense but it's so good and an iconic kdrama), cheer up, another miss oh, kingdom (if you like zombie things)...i heard startup is good and i want to watch it soon too! also i continued watching more of uncanny counter these past few days and i love it (but it's ongoing so no binging)

okay now svt: i watched some of your recs and youre so right all their choreos are so satisfying?! i also actually agree with you about black on black, i liked black on black and it was cool but it only featured like 5 members lmao and in the svt choreos it does feel like all of them are featured in some way in each performance? plus their choreos are just so great to watch!! also i've had left and right stuck in my head since i watched it LOL but i agree it's objectively better than dynamite (not an army though; also pls nobody come at us for this lmaoo)

also super random but can you tell me who is the one in the red/purple plaid shirt in the svt home dance practice?? i am kinda attracted by his dance moves LOL and i havent learned names yet 😭 i will continue watching all ur svt recs though hehehe and update you on the status of my fangirling :))

omg wait also i would never have guessed that you're not an english speaker just from these messages!! how did you know that i was prob a native speaker haha (i guess *technically* cantonese is my first language, but then i learned english in school so now i'm obviously more native in that lol and english is the only language i can read/write in)

OMGGF IKR as a multi stan i really enjoyed the rap collab especially because i really love monsta x's rap line (esp i.m!!! his rapping skill 😍) and of course mark and taeyong!!!! 😭 our boys 😭 our golden rappers 😭 SLAYED IT! omg the nct u got me 😳 taeyong looked so good???? wtf? and also sungchan? damn that boy keeps surprising me! the interesting part to me was when one member(johnny if i remember correctly) bumped into taeyong but it was done on purpose and how he uhhh kinda shook his body and his head but it all looked so cool and he never stopped rapping!!! love how they all 'performed' misfit manifesting wild teenagers in school (as they are tbh) IT WAS SO FUN AND COOL!!!

XIAOJUN!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS SO!!!!!! GOOD!!!!!!! THE CONFIDENCE??? THE STAGE PRESENCE????? XIAOJUN CENTER???? XIAOJUN BEING RELEVANT????? i live 😭 he was so good he looked so good i was so happy and i'm so proud of him 😭 from here the only way to go is up! i hope he keeps surprising us! and omg i haven't noticed that part when doyoung pushed him bc he blocked him?? and i just rewatched it and it looks funny 🤣 but they held everything professionally 😌  no surprises there 😌

OH MY GOD THE HARD CARRY PERFORMANCE!!!!!!!!! first of all our boy shotaro DAMN 😳 he looked so good you couldn’t say that he just debuted a few months ago!! such a dancing machine! (but honestly i am not surprised because in make a wish he was rly good and he debuted as a dancer i expected from him to be good™ as he is!) and i love the duality od him <3 yk that kind of idol that you want to protect at all cost but the next second they're the one you seek protection from? yeH sign me uP! and don't even get me started on hyunjin, juyeon and moonbin!!!!! but i mean all 3 of them are main dancers of course they would look good™ 😌 (yeah shotaro performed with 3 main dancers of 3 different groups i mean the honor??????)

the end of the festival was so wholesome! It was a serotonin boost and me too i also smiled the whole time! so cute 😭 and ot23 were cutiesssss

yes! everything will work out in the end! don't stress about it!<3 oh haikyuu only has 2 seasons? wtf hsgsjsgs ok then i just watched when it had like 13 episodes, WHEN IT FIRST CAME OUT that's when i watched it lmao

OMG OK I HAVE WRITTEN DOWN ALL OF THESE DRAMAS (and from the previous ask) IN MY NOTES SO FAR im mostly excited about the fake relationship one 👀 i love fake relationship trope, too 🤧 oh no binging?? is that your thing?? usually i love to wait for the show to finish airing and then i binge watch it in a few days (or one day depends how busy i am)

SEVENTEEN!!!!: yeah all of their choreos are so satisfying (pointing this out one more time) they always pay attention to details (for example in home, bc you're familiar with it, they even choreograph the hands and pay attention to them while most of the other kpop choreos very often freestyle the whole arms sjagaj) here's a fun fact abt svt that makes me love them so much agsgsj: they're self produced! they produce their own music and they even come up with their own choreos!! (of course not on their own, woozi is a producer but he's not making songs on his own he coproduces them with [a producer name bc i guess that's irrelevant but if you’re curious: bumzu], they come up with their own choreo (to be precise, hoshi does! he is 1/2 main dancers in group and he is the main choreographer! he doesn't do everything on his own of course, he gets help from the rest of the performance team (which is a svt subunit consisted of their 2 main and 2 lead dancers: hoshi, dino, the8, jun) and of course some other infamous kpop choreography teams) and i think that, by now, all the members were credited at least once for the lyrics

I'M SO GLAD YOU HAVE LEFT AND RIGHT STUCK IN YOUR HEAD HAGSJSSGSG but i mean of course you would it's soo good and soo catchy (yeahhh no worries, this army has already gotten minor hate for having controversial opinions™ and for criticising her faves so idc anymore 💁🏻‍♀️ it's my opinion as a dancer and i stand by it, even can't you see me by txt is better than dynamite so literally 3 dance performance were better!!!! in a way!!!! and neither of the 3 won!!! yes i am salty!!!!!)

the guy in the red/purple shirt (the center guy when they do the 3 dances for the first time right??) IS DINO!!!! he's the maknae and 2/2 main dancers in svt so!!! of course you would be attracted by his moves!!!!!! JSGSJSN i'm curious to see if you end up staning svt and biasing dino hsfsjsgsha

CANTONESE IS YOUR FIRST LANGUAGE? damn i thought you couldn’t get more interesting here's a dumb question: can you understand xiaojun, hendery and lucas without titles??? not that i would know if they ever speak cantonese in front of the camera for i don't know the difference between chinese dialects</3

[nanonaturalist]

I just wanted to say that it's grasshopper and cicada season where I live now. There so many grasshoppers that if I walk in any patch of dry sand and rock, anywhere from 10 to 100's of them start jumping at once and just cascade and fly into my face and I love them so much. What neat grasshopper facts do you have?

It’s grasshopper season here, too! I’m a bit of a grasshopper dunce, but I do still know some neat grasshopper facts.

One of my favorites is about grasshoppers vs. locusts. They’re essentially the same thing! There are some species of grasshoppers that will turn into massive swarms if they get too crowded, and they will destroy everything they will find. Some researchers looked into this, and it turns out, brushing their hind legs releases serotonin in their brains, and that’s what causes their behavioral changes! [link to LiveScience article] 

The Australian Department of Agriculture has a great page about locusts, including their life cycle, I highly recommend checking it out, it’s a great brief overview [link].

Another grasshopper fact, which I discovered by obsessively photographing every bug I see and then having people identify them for me on iNaturalist, is that… the same species can come in MANY different forms! Here are are bunch of photos of Short-winged Green Grasshoppers:

Thing is, when I first encountered this species name, I assumed all of them would have… short wings… and that they would maybe, be green? NOPE!!! There is a LONG WINGED form (See the babe in the top left? Long wings!) And I don’t think I need to point out the ones that aren’t green. These are ALL THE SAME SPECIES! Don’t believe me? Bottom left corner, a green lady is mating with a brown gentleman. Definition of species, right?

Grasshoppers are so good at camouflaging, holy carp. Take these Aztec Grasshoppers for example. There are two in the photo. This is at Bastrop State Park, where some of the dirt is red from the iron content:

Or what about this Broad-horned Grasshopper I saw in Malawi?

And while we’re in Malawi, I HAVE TO SHARE this Gaudy fellow (seriously, the family is commonly called “Gaudy grasshoppers”), a Dictyophorus sp. babe I saw hiding out in plain sight on a Cycad, which I didn’t see until I’d been staring at a wasp for several minutes:

Coming back to Texas, I’ve seen SEMI-AQUATIC GRASSHOPPERS???? NO REALLY, THEY WERE ALL SWIMMING ON PURPOSE, AND THAT’S THEIR THING????? I still don’t know wtf these things are besides pygmy grasshoppers.

Showy Grasshoppers (that’s their name!) that look like aliens:

Aztec spur-throat grasshopper nymphs that look like candies:

The Bird grasshoppers, named because, I presume, they are so huge they are mistaken for birds when they fly:

One of my fondest grasshoppers memories, though, was of this Red-shanked Grasshopper, who was waiting outside my building at UT Austin when I was a grad student. I was leaving my lab late one night (1 am! Hey, I said I was a grad student!), and he was just waiting for me. I wasn’t a naturalist quite yet, this was 2014. So I did what came naturally to me when faced with a giant grasshopper:

Grasshoppers are awesome! I hope you get to meet some fun ones!

July 6, 2019