#older people of tumblr pls chime in
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has it always been that only like 20% of people actually know how to do their jobs or is that a new thing post covid?
when you call your ISP and the person on the phone doesn't understand WiFi and why a 2.4GHz channel is needed for smart devices
or when you call the bank and they don't understand if something is pending, posted, or refunded
or when the grocery store employees don't know where the spices are located in the store
truly wondering like, has it been like this always? did you always have to fight tooth and nail for hours of your day to get a straight answer to a (seemingly simple) problem?
#what's going on#like for real#idk if i just have high standards#the standard of like this person works here they should have an idea#which doesn't seem like too much to me???#anyways#just really curious#for real#older people of tumblr pls chime in#what was customer service like before covid#also for the record#i work in customer service and i genuinely hold everyone to the same standards i hold myself to#which is just like be nice and kinda know whats up or ask for help if you don't#customer service#people skills#questions#lowkey venting idk#im just so over it
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Marlboro Red 100's (pt.1)
Daryl Dixon x FemReader
Modern/no apocalypse/no walkers AU
Word Count: 3765
Warnings: Mentions of smoking, fluffy-lovey-dovey crap, suggestive-ish, swearing, mention of slight age gap but no ages specified
(Pt.2)
A/N: This is like my second ever one shot I've posted to Tumblr pls enjoy and don't rip me to shreds <3
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1:30 to 2:00
2:00 to 3:00
Then 3:30 to 4:00
4:00 to 5:00
5:00 to 6:00
Your shift dragged on and on the more you glanced at the clock, watching the hands circle around and around, painfully slow. Six more hours. You could do six more hours of this, right? Monotonously scanning items and cashing out customers, fixing displays, cleaning spills, scrubbing toilets, checking inventory; all the wonders of being a minimum wage employee at a gas station corner store. Overworked and underpaid, a sentiment shared by many.
There’s handfuls of regulars at any retail store. Some are pleasant and will make small talk with you, asking about your life or commenting on the weather. Others, not so much. Men can be creepy and some people will share every detail of their life with you, whether you want to hear it or not.
There’s rare times, though, when there's a customer that you actually have genuine interest in talking to. Like today.
The door chime rang out through the desolate store, causing you to repeat your usual “Hi, how’re you?” and turn your gaze from your shift paperwork up to the front door.
There stood a man, broad shoulders and shoulder length, dark hair. He wore dark jeans, heavy-looking boots and a leather vest over a flannel that had the sleeves torn off. His tan, muscular hands and arms were covered in what looked like motor oil. He wiped them on a red rag he took from his back pocket, shaking his hair out of his eyes.
“Hey,” his voice was low and gruff with a bit of a southern accent, ��you got a bathroom I could use?”
He raised his arms, showing you the mess on his large hands.
“Yeah, uh, right in the back, to the left.” you stammered, gesturing towards the back of the building.
You’d probably die before you told anyone this, but the whole hot mechanic look some guys came in with really got you going. Not often is there a good looking guy that comes in that you drool over, but every now and then there would be a mechanic or a construction guy or a painter who just looks dirty and you wanted them dirtier. It was weird, you didn't know why, but maybe it was just the idea that they weren't afraid to get their hands dirty, literally.
You watched this one walk to the back, eyes on his biceps. Oh, how you’d like to be nearly crushed between them.
Seriously, being here so long with so little to do makes your mind wander just about anywhere and everywhere and half of what you did during your shift was daydream.
When he disappeared into the men’s room, you leaned against the cigarette wall behind the register, eyes scanning the parking lot outside the window. It was almost abandoned, except for an older man pumping gas into his Subaru and a worn-looking Harley Davidson motorcycle propped up out front.
“Of course he rides a motorcycle,” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head with a little grin. He definitely seemed the type.
“Say somethin’, sweet ‘eart?” his voice startled you from your thoughts, noticing he’d already washed his hands and was now standing up against the counter.
You couldn’t help the light blush creeping across your face at the nickname, shaking your head and pointing outside, “just sayin’ I like your bike.”
You blinked at him from behind the register, watching his eyes almost light up at the mention of his prized possession. You could feel your heart beating faster at the scent of his cologne mixed with a little gasoline.
“Ain’t she beautiful? Just got done workin’ on ‘er, made a mess but it’s always worth it.” He grinned, glancing out the window at his bike.
“You new ‘round here? I’ve never seen you before,” you decided to blurt out, “think I’d remember ya’.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Not many new people come through here, is all.” you lied, so many different faces slid through every day, but you’d remember his because you’d think about it later with your hands between your thighs.
“Huh,” he hummed, “can I get a pack of the Marlboro red 100’s, darlin’?”
You nodded, turning around and reaching on your tiptoes to grab the pack of cigarettes from the top shelf. Had you been able to feel the way the man’s eyes traveled down from the top of your head to your heels, you would’ve melted into a puddle right there.
“Anythin’ else?” you asked, placing the cigarettes on the counter top.
“One more thing,” he said, handing you a twenty dollar bill, “what’s your name?”
You pointed to the name tag fastened to your shirt and he read it outloud, erupting butterflies in your stomach.
‘’I’m Daryl Dixon. And yeah, I’m new ��round here. I’ll be back in though, you’ll see more of me.”
“You gonna be a regular?” you asked, crossing your arms and once again leaning against the wall of cigarettes after you handed him his change and closed the drawer.
“Hope so, only If i see more a’ you.”
You rolled your eyes and tried to bite down the smile on your lips, failing miserably.
“Uh-huh, I’m always here, Daryl Dixon,” You teased, letting his name roll off your tongue.
“Then I’ll be back for sure.” He flashed a sweet smile, tapped his hand on the counter and turned to leave.
Once he was out the door, you watched him mount his bike, raking his hands through his hair and kicking up the side stand. As he pulled away, you felt the butterflies still flutter in circles in your stomach, your thoughts still focused on him.
You would see him again. It would be Daryl’s ritual to come in every Friday afternoon for a pack of Marlboro Red 100 cigarettes and sometimes a lighter. Truth was, even if his pack wasn’t empty yet, he’d still stop in every Friday afternoon just to see your pretty face and to watch you stretch the top shelf, his eyes raking over your shape. Jesus, he wanted you so badly it almost hurt, but he had no idea how to approach you about it, he didn’t even know much about you. Small things, like your family stuff and what you did for fun, but nothing much else. To make matters worse, he had to be at least 20 years older than you. What would you want with an old man like him?
Was he really old?
No, but he felt like it.
Except for when he was lost in conversation with you.
Every time he saw you, he felt as though there was no divide and you could’ve known each other years before, old friends meeting up every Friday for a couple months straight. He’d ask questions about you, what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, favorite song, movies, foods, anything he could learn about you, he absorbed like a dry sponge tossed into water. You’d always return the questions, ask him the same, and make mental notes of the answers, the same way he was.
On one sunny, dry, hot Friday afternoon, the door chimed and in walked your favorite regular, Daryl Dixon.
“Hey, honey,” He grinned your way, but instead of walking towards the counter as usual, he turned towards the cooler in the back.
“What, no cigarettes?” you pretended to be shocked, hand over your heart.
‘’I’m gettin’ a drink, hot as shit out there,” he replied, shaking his head and disappearing momentarily behind one of the shelves.
You smiled and rolled your eyes just as the door chimed again, another customer walking in.
He was a short, scrawny guy who couldn't have been more than a couple years older than you. You said your usual greeting and he ignored you, walking up to the counter and simply stating a brand of cigarettes you assumed he wanted. Daryl got in line behind him just as you turned around and bent slightly to grab the pack of cigarettes on the lowest shelf.
From behind you, you heard a whistle.
You snapped back up, looking back and glaring at the asshole. He was chuckling to himself.
“Aw, c’mon, it was a compliment, baby, you got blessed back there,’’ He laughed.
“Fuck off,” you muttered, tossing the cigarettes onto the counter and swiping the scanner over them.
“What was that, babe?” He raised his eyebrows.
Daryl looked like he was about to explode, piping up from behind the guy, “you heard what she said, why don’t ‘cha? Fuck off.”
He nearly spat his words, seconds away from stepping between this douchebag and the counter.
“I ain’t gonna let no bitch talk to me like that,” He snarled, swiping the cigarettes off the counter.
‘’Alright, that’s it,” Daryl placed his drink on the counter and slid it to you, “hold that, sweetheart, okay?” before turning to the other man.
‘’Fuck you think you are, talkin’ to a lady like that? She ain’t no bitch, that’s you. Get the fuck on outta’ here.” He spat, roughly grabbing the younger man by the collar of his t-shirt and shoving him towards the door.
‘’She ain’t no lady-” the guy started, back to the door, but Daryl cut him off.
“She’s every bit a’ one, now get the hell out and leave ‘er alone before I kick your fuckin’ teeth in.”
The guy tried to walk forward, but Daryl shoved him out through the door, onto the pavement. He scrambled up, seemingly too embarrassed to walk back in, and sped off. Daryl picked up the cigarettes from the floor where the guy had dropped them when he was shoved the first time and gently placed them onto the counter.
‘’You alright, honey? I’m sorry ‘bout him, fuckin’ asshole.”
You were just about breathless, a pit in your stomach and a tingle in your chest. You’d hate to admit it to yourself but the way he had defended you turned you on to almost no end. Your heart was beating a million times a minute, deafening in your ears as you blinked at his baby blue eyes.
You almost couldn’t speak, “ ‘m fine.”
“You sure?”
‘’Y-yeah, thank you.”
“Ain’t gotta thank me for nothin’, I’d never let some prick talk to ya’ like that.”
“Daryl?”
You had a bad idea, it was definitely bad and there's no way he’d say yes but your tongue was on a route that your brain couldn’t stop.
“Mhm?” he hummed in response, leaning on his forearms on the counter, so engaged in anything and everything you had to say.
Which made things so much worse for you.
“What are you doing tomorrow night? Are you busy?” you blurted.
Oh, this could be so, so bad.
“What?” He replied, steading himself to stand straight.
Okay, yeah, bad.
“Nevermind, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I-”
“No, no, sorry for what? I ain’t busy tomorrow night, what were you gonna say?”
Daryl looked intrigued, if not a little confused.
“It was stupid, I was gonna ask if you, um, If you’d wanna maybe have dinner or somethin’. Like a date.” You managed to get out, picking at your fingernails with anxiety.
“I ain’t too old for ‘ya?” was the first thing from his mouth after a moment of tense silence.
“Too old?” you questioned, tilting your head, “I’m an adult, Daryl. You can’t be too old for me.”
He sighed, grinning and rubbing the back of his neck as relief filled his body.
“When you want me to pick you up, sweetheart?”
You smiled wide, feeling giddy like this was your very first date all over again.
“Let’s do six o’clock? Here, I’ll give you my address,” you find a piece of a scrapped receipt and scribble your address and phone number, handing it over to him.
He gladly accepts it, folding it and placing it in his jeans pocket.
Before you know it, it’s six o’clock the next evening and you're focused on yourself in the mirror. You’d worn your favorite outfit and done your hair, waiting anxiously for the doorbell.
At five minutes past six, it rang.
You excitedly scurried to the door, opening it to see a slightly nervous Daryl Dixon in his leather vest and flannel button down.
He shook his hair out of his eyes to get a better look at you, making note of every curve and dip that made his head spin.
“You look…real, real pretty,” He managed to mumble out, having a hard time keeping his eyes on yours.
“You do, too,” you teased, stepping out into the evening air and closing the door behind you.
You followed Daryl to his motorcycle, your stomach turning with nerves.
“So where we headin’ off to?” you inquired, watching his broad shoulders in front of you.
“ ‘s a surprise. Figured I outta’ do somethin’ special for a girl like you.”
You blushed, shaking your head and only giggling in response.
“You alright gettin’ on the bike?” He asked sweetly, placing a gentle hand on your elbow.
You could melt under his calloused touch, instinctively leaning your body towards him.
“I should be alright, I think. Just never been on one before,” you caught your lower lip between your teeth.
He noticed the small nervous gesture, reaching over his bike and handing you the single helmet.
“You’re safe with me, alright? Hold on real tight and don’t let go, trust me, ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you,' ' He reassured you.
You hesitated for a moment before tugging the helmet on and letting Daryl help you on the motorcycle behind him. You wrapped your arms tight around his abdomen, leaning your weight on his back.
He was glad you were behind him so you couldn’t see the shade of pink his cheeks had turned or the way he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face even if he tried. You were significantly smaller in stature than he was and he adored the way your smaller arms wrapped tight around him.
“You ready, honey?” He kicked the side stand up, rearing the engine of the bike.
“Sure am, sugar,” You shot back.
His smile grew wider as you both started forward, wind through your clothes sending a light chill through you. The hum of the bike filled your ears as you watched your shadows dance upon the pavement, cast by the late afternoon sun.
Before you knew it, Daryl slowed the bike to a stop and turned to speak to you.
“Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Nah,” you tried to act nonchalant, though your heart was beating like crazy as you handed him the helmet back, “it was fun.”
“So you’ll let me take ya’ out on it again?”
“Well, I’ll have to if we’re gonna go on any more dates, huh?”
Daryl smiled at your quick response, hopping off the bike and helping you do the same.
You checked out your surroundings, a green and desolate park, open lawns with freshly mowed grass and large oak and willow trees.
“You take me here to kill me?” you joked, watching a dragonfly hover over the cement near your feet.
“Nah, cmon,” Daryl chuckled, waving his hand to motion you to follow him, “got somethin’ set up for ya’. Hope you don’t think it’s stupid, I ain’t ever really…’guess I’ve never been on a real date before, so I, uh…I don’t know, hope you like it, is all.”
His nervous babbling as you followed in his direction into the field of grass made you smile wide.
“I’m sure whatever you got up your sleeve is -”
Words failed to form as you saw what he was leading you to. A blanket was laid out under the shade of a beautifully full weeping willow tree. Containers of all sorts of delicious foods were spread out along with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
“Oh, Daryl, you did all this? For me?”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss him right there for being so damn sweet.
“Of course, for you,” Daryl smiled, taking a seat on the blanket and tapping the empty space next to him, “what other sweet lady would I do this for?”
You couldn’t hide the large smile spread across your face as you plopped yourself down next to him, taking in the array of foods.
“Wow, this is…you really out did yourself. This is perfect.” you assured him, taking note of the way he was scanning your features to see what you thought of his gesture.
“Think so? Just wanted to make it ‘nice as I could.”
“Perfect, all of it.” You smiled and opened a container of strawberries, popping one in your mouth and offering some to Daryl.
He took one appreciatively, doing the same.
You had a mischievous idea and picked up a strawberry, offering it to Daryl, “Now is this the part of the date where you feed me strawberries like in the movies?”
You thought he’d laugh, shake off your joke in slight rejection and change the subject.
Instead, he gently took the fruit from your fingers, hovering it in front of your lips.
‘’Yeah? Go ahead.”
Your stomach did back flips and you could’ve sworn it tied itself in knots at his words.
Daryl was glad you didn’t seem to notice the way his hand started to shake.
You leaned in, slowly, and caught the fruit between your teeth. You kept your eyes on his as you bit down, pulling away to wipe the juice from your lips.
Unfortunately (or fortunately) for him, that was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced in his life and he immediately went for the wine to calm his nerves.
You watched him uncork the wine in his lap, noticing the slight bulge in the front of his jeans as he tried to hide it with the bottle, though it didn’t do much.
The way you had to do almost nothing but exist in his presence to make him excited had you biting down a smile, watching his hair fall in front of his face as he finally uncorked the bottle. As he poured your glass, you reached a delicate hand forward and brushed the hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. His eyes shot up to yours, lost in the way the sun hit them and made the color even more stunning.
You were beautiful, ethereal, an angel on earth he had been blessed to be touched by.
And you made him spill the wine.
“S-shit, sorry, I shoulda’ been lookin’, too distracted,” He laughed a little, glancing at the stain of red wine on the blanket.
‘’Distracted with what?” You teased, grabbing the bottle from his hands to pour him his own glass.
“How am I supposed to pay attention when there’s a pretty girl like you lookin’ at me like that?”
“Like what? I’m just lookin’ at you!” You giggled, going to hand him his wine glass.
“Like that!” he exclaimed with a smile, gesturing with his free hand as he took the glass from you, “with them beautiful damn eyes and that pretty smile and that gorgeous face, drivin’ me damn near insane.”
“Oh, please, you say it to flatter me,” you shook your head and laughed, taking a sip from your glass.
“Nah, but if you wanna feel flattered, I’ll sure keep tryin’,” He said, doing the same, “but it ain’t flattery if it’s true.”
You playfully rolled your eyes and had another snack. Daryl sat back against the tree and watched you intently, your lips, nose, jaw, hair, hands, every bit of you.
“You wanna know somethin’?” He said, gaining your attention.
“Hm?”
“I don’t really go through a pack of smokes a week. I just come in every Friday to see you. I like seein’ your pretty face and I like seein’ you reach up to grab ‘em from the top shelf. It’s cute.”
It felt like he knocked the wind right out of you. He really was too damn sweet.
“And I like talkin’ to ya’, like knowin’ more about ya’. Could talk to you for hours.” he added in admission, smiling in adoration at you.
It was almost too much.
“Daryl?”
He sat up, leaning towards you, “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I want you to kiss me,” you sighed, watching his eyes change, “please, kiss me.”
He wasted no time in placing a gentle hand on the back of your neck and connecting his lips with yours. His lips were soft against yours and tasted of strawberries and wine and cigarettes. His breathing was soft against your cheek as he deepened the kiss, placing his other hand on your waist and absentmindedly tracing circles with his fingers. Your hands were both in his hair, twirling his locks around your fingers. You both eventually broke apart to gaze at each other, breathless and giddy like teenagers.
“I like you a lot, Daryl.” you admitted, again playing with his hair. He leaned into your touch.
“I like you more.” He smiled, fingers still tracing patterns on your waist.
“Oh, you wanna start that fight?” you teased.
“Only if we can make up at the end,” He smiled.
You kissed him again, this time adjusting yourself to be nearly square on his lap. His breathing hitched and he gazed up at you, swiping gently at the hair that had fallen in front of your face.
“Show me how much you like me.” Was all you had to say to have Daryl’s tongue in your mouth, swiping lovingly and softly.
His hands caressed from your shoulder blades down your back to the sides of your hips, kneading your thighs while you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled away just an inch to kiss along your jaw and down your neck, biting and sucking softly, earning small mews and moans from you. You mumbled his name in ecstacy, making him groan against your neck. He continued to kiss back up your neck and jaw to once again meet your mouth, using one hand on the back of your neck to keep you as close against him as you could get.
When you two finally broke away from each other, reluctantly, neither of you could wipe the smiles from your faces.
It was no surprise then, when he dropped you home later and walked you to your door, that you both agreed to a second date.
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wooooo pt2 coming eventually!
#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl x reader#the walking dead#daryl x you#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixion imagine
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Okay so i have been trying to get info on who longnv is and what her role is jttw because i always see tags and i saw a particular post on tumblr where i was scrolling through the jttw tag and i saw her but when i went to search on the jttw character list she wasnt there so now im like "wait...what?"
So pls if its not much of a hassle can you just pls tell who she is and what her role is in the story cause i have been trying to find stuff about her but end up fruitless
I’m surprised you haven’t found much information about her… She has a Wikipedia page so if you were looking in English, she would’ve come up.
But honestly, she isn’t really referenced in Xiyouji because she doesn’t really have a role in the story besides being an assistant. She’s Guanyin's other disciple besides Muzha but since Muzha is doing all the work, and has all the lines as the go-between got GuanYin and other characters Longvu is only really mentioned in passing standing next to GuanYin in certain scenes.
As you can see she IS mentioned but she doesn't SAY anything really.
As for history, she has a whole background of lore in Buddhist mythos as she has a long history. I talked a bit about her here and here when talking about Gaunyin and who she is a bit. So simply to say she’s not really a “character” within the story as she doesn’t have any dialogue or actions, but rather she has a lot of lore surrounding her that just isn’t referenced in Xiyouji as it’s not needed for the narrative. She is still mentioned within the novel just never interacted with! So it’s kind of like the novel references her more so!
Put it simply the most common lore I see about it is that she is the granddaughter of The Dragon King and the daughter of Ao Guang, the same dragon king of the East that Wukong took his staff and armor from and the same dragon king that has his son’s, Ao Bing, spine ruled out by Nezha in his legend. Needless to say, the east dragons have a lot of people messing with them. There are more legends of her that I haven't really gone into but she def has been around for a long time in Buddhist lore.
And Longvu works under Gaunyin and works with Muzha. And I don’t know if you are aware, but Muzha is the older brother of Nezha… so she is working with the sibling of the guy that ripped out her older brother’s spine.
Which I think is hilarious personally.
Also, that would make her Bailong's cousin too!
Small Heavens.
But yeah! We don’t get to see her lot in media. I think I’ve only ever seen a depiction of her when she gets actual lines in the 1999 series where she and Muzha interact with Red Boy when Gaunyin comes to recruit him. Also in Fei Ren Zai Non Human! I haven’t read all or watch that series yet but I know she is depicted quite often there as well with Gaunyin and Muzha and Red Boy (now Shancai). Also possible in the Nezha tv series from the early 2000s? Haven’t seen that one, but I do know there is a Dragon Girl that he befriends in the series!
If anytime knows more media she is in please chime in!!
So it’s no trouble at all!! She has more lore outside Xiyouji so I would suggest looking beyond that scope!
Here are some links to help you read about her! I hope this helps!
#anonymous#anon#anon ask#jttw#journey to the west#xiyouji#long nu#longnv#longnu#love this gal#little dragon girl#Guanyin#bodhisattva guanyin#fei ren zai#nonhuman#the legend of nezha#jttw99#ask
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— summary : It was tough for you to trust and open up to people, after all you've been through. When you finally let your walls down, Chanyeol left you hanging. (part 1 of 2)
— pairings : chanyeol x reader
— genre : angst, fluff
— warnings : mentions of anxiety, alcohol, bullying, & gaslighting, hints of sexual assault & harassment, description of anxiety & panic attacks.
— word count : 3.9k words (part 1)
— author's words : hi!!! I'm not really good with titles so this goes untitled for now 😅 I'll add the title when I post the 2nd part 💛 this is not proofread and edited yet pls forgive me. I'd really appreciate it if you tell me your thoughts on this! ☺️
It was a year ago today. The day when you were supposed to wake up with a smile, hearing your family’s thumping steps on the wooden floor on the way to your room. The day when your younger sister was supposed to be running towards you to attack you with kisses, your mom holding out a cake that says ‘happy birthday’, and your father following closely behind them, singing the happy birthday song with his awfully hoarse morning voice, just like the annual tradition. Rather, you woke up to the loud and thunderous knocks on your bedroom door, along with what you recognized as your father’s voice. And the second you turned the lock on the knob, the door flew and a hand met your right cheek.
You were scared, but you weren’t sure what you were scared for. Sure your dad looked scary, his face was blood red, his breathing uneven, and his hands clenched into fists, but you didn’t know what he was acting scary for. You held your cheek, trying to ease up the stinging sensation that lingered.
“D-dad?”, you managed to stutter out. Your father shut his eyes close and sighed.
You looked away and noticed your mom and your sister on the wooden staircase behind your dad. Your mom was holding her face in her hands, and your sister was rubbing her back. Only then did you realize that they were both crying.
“M-mom? S-stacy? W-what’s going o-on?”, you choked out, feeling the hot tears that were running down your face.
It was silent again, and you hated it. The silence was deafening and you swore you almost heard the cells in your brain die. You always hated situations like this, it made you feel so anxious and you were about to throw up.
“D-dad, M-mom what’s happening w-why are y–”
“You don’t have to call me dad anymore,” your dad cut you off, and you heard your mom cry louder.
“D-dad w-will you please at least t-tell me what’s going on?”, you said in between sobs, “please?”
Your dad let out another loud sigh, and you noticed his eyes getting misty. “Stacy, give me your phone. Your sister wants to know why, so I’ll show her why”, he said in a firm tone.
Stacy stood up from the stairs and took out the phone from her pocket. She handed it over to your dad, avoiding his gaze including yours. You were practically begging for her to look at you with your eyes while your dad was fumbling with the gadget, but she stood behind him, staring at the floor with her hair covering her face.
Your father handed to you the phone, showing a paused video on the screen. You pressed play, and turned the volume up. You were puzzled to say the least. The video had poor lighting but when the light source hit the surface of a very familiar face in the frame, you dropped the phone, leaving a small crack on the lower left part of the screen.
Your brain tried to put the pieces of information it recently gathered together, but you were about to pass out. Unconsciously shaking, you stumbled on your feet, and dropped to the floor. That was the last thing you remembered before your sight blacked out.
Your life today is a little bit different to how it was a year ago, yet it was still sort of the same. You moved to a different town, a different school, a different environment. It isn’t much worse now, but some people would still look at you and gossip as you pass by the same. Others don’t even stab you in the back, they hit you in the front now.
You moved with your family in the hopes of forgetting everything and starting anew, but unfortunately the news reached your new home too. Your parents insisted that you move places again when people in your school started talking, but you hated the feeling of being an inconvenience. So you did your best to heal and learn how to not a give a fuck to what others say, even if it burnt you out on most days.
“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be alright, they’re not hurting me anyway,” you said in the softest voice.
“Are you sure? We can just move out of the country, baby. It’s best that we just go, hmm?” she held your hands in one, and caressed your face in the other.
“Yeah. We should just move if you’re uncomfortable here, my love,” your dad added as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
“Then we’d have to spend money again. I know you guys had a hard time adjusting as well, especially Stacy,” you fumbled with the fabric of your shorts, “I’m okay, really.”
But even though you’ve learnt to not give a shit and shrug off what bullshit other people— who don’t even know you, by the way— say anymore over the past months, there are still times when you have to endure how painful the words you overhear from conversations of people in your school are. And when you couldn’t, you’d have to run back to your only safe place in school, the comfort room at the back of the school library to turn into a ball and cry. On some days when you think you’re all better and don’t give a fuck anymore, you hear words you tried so hard to delete from your system, and it makes you want to throw up again.
You hate whoever did this to you. However, over the process of healing, you realized that you hate those people who try to act nice in front of you, act like they care for you, act like they support you, but actually talk rotten behind you more. And you hate people who try to control you into thinking that you are the one to blame, the most, because there are times that their words sting too much you begin to doubt yourself again after trying so hard to convince yourself that you were never at fault.
xx
It’s the first day of the semestral break, and you couldn’t be more happy and relieved to be far from society. You don’t have to do anything but lie down in your comfy bed, and binge watch your favorite shows all day. You can read books you hoarded in the past but never really touched after, as well!
“Y/N! Stacy! Come here, give these apples to our new neighbors!” your mom shouted from the kitchen.
You and your sister, Stacy peeked out of your bedrooms at the same time, and when your eyes met you both sighed.
“I was watching Stranger Things, I was in the good part!”, you whined.
“I was reading a good fic on Tumblr as well! I was in the climax of the story!”, Stacy stomped her feet playfully and you both giggled.
“Y/N! Stacy! Did you hear me?” your Mom shouted again, which made you and Stacy instinctively run down the stairs.
xx
“Good afternoon Mister– uhmm?”, Stacy said to the man sitting on the balcony outside the house your mom sent you to for a quick mission.
“Park. Mr. Park,” the grown man smiled.
“Oh, nice to meet you Mr. Park! We’re from the house next to yours. We heard you just moved in, so my mom wanted you to have this!” Stacy beamed at him, while you stood behind her quietly.
“Oh I see! What are your names? You should come in! We had a feast for lunch, you should help us finish the food!” Mr. Park said while turning the knob of the front door.
“I’m Stacy, this is my older sister Y/n. My mom’s name is Rachel, and my dad’s is Samuel”, she said as she took off her sneakers.
“How old are you guys? I have a son who’s in the 11th grade, and a daughter who’s gonna be in her 2nd year in university.”
“I’m in 11th grade as well, Stacy is in 9th. We’re in Jungwon Highschool”, you said as you took off your jacket
“You should meet my son then! He’s transferring to Jungwon! But he’s not here now, he took the dog out on a walk in the park”, he said while grabbing plates from the kitchen.
After eating a few sweet fruits, you and your sister headed back home with two full plates of side dishes Mr. Park’s family offered. You passed by a tall unfamiliar guy carrying a black dog on the way back, and you figured maybe he was Mr. Park’s son.
xx
It’s the first day of the spring semester, the weather's been really better the past few days and you couldn’t be any happier because it means you don’t have to wear a heavy coat to school anymore.
While walking to the bus stop, you saw a familiar guy crouching down to pet a kitten.
Cute
He picked the cat up and moved it to a spot away from the pavement onto the bushes, probably for its safety. The moment he turned to your direction, you realized he was the same guy who you passed by once, on the way home from your new neighbor’s house. He was wearing the same uniform as you, and there you confirmed he really was the Parks’ son.
The bell rang and your class adviser went into the classroom. He was with the same guy you encountered earlier, announcing that your class has a new student to welcome.
“My name is Park Chanyeol. Please take care of me”, the guy said as he smiled and bowed down. He took the empty seat in front of you and settled down.
xx
“Pass your quizlets to the president after lunch. Late submissions will have deductions. Is that clear, class?” the 4th period teacher announced as she walked out the room.
The chime rang on the school speakers, and the lunch break started. All your classmates darted out the room, while you stayed in your seat, resting your head on the desk to take a nap like usual. Except, this time you aren’t left alone in the room. Chanyeol stayed, seemingly finishing the quizlet the teacher gave.
“Excuse me, can I borrow your eraser?” He asked, knocking on your desk to get your attention.
“Ah, sure. Here,” you pass him the black piece of soft rubber from your pencil case.
“Didn’t know they sell black ones. I should get myself one like this too. I actually hate when the white ones get dirty,” he rambled on while erasing whatever he had to erase and gave it back to you. You nod sheepishly as a response.
“I’m Chanyeol. What’s your name?” he pursed his lips while waiting for you to answer.
“I’m y/n. I actually live next to you,” you smile, scratching your nape.
Chanyeol was saying something but you weren’t really listening. Not when you heard some girls at the back door say, “what is she doing? Is she flirting with him?” “I seriously can’t believe her, after all that happened to her she has the guts to flirt with boys again?” “Maybe she thinks she can bait the new guy because he’s clueless” “and attractive, too”
You just smiled at him, and rested your head back down again, wearing earphones this time to block out whatever conversations you didn’t have to hear.
xx
You were sitting on the bench outside your go-to place, the comfort room at the back of the school library, watching whatever random videos youtube recommended in the home section. A video of a band doing a cover of some other band’s song came up, and you suddenly heard someone clear their throat from behind you which made you jump a little bit from your seat.
“So, are you into bands?” Chanyeol asked as he sat beside you on the bench.
If you were to be really honest, you grew scared of meeting people through the past year. You really hate it when people bring up things which they are not in the place to talk about. You’d tell them if you wanted them to know, and if you wouldn’t then they just have to accept and respect it, not be a total nosy ass. And unfortunately, everyone who tried to talk to you in this school brought up things you wished they didn’t. It made you feel like they’re only talking to you to know the tea. So you shut them out immediately, afraid to be hurt by them again if you get attached to them.
Which is why you struggled to let out a response to Chanyeol’s curiosity.
Why does he want to know about that? What will he do with that information? What if he uses it against me in the future? I should be careful with what I say, I might give out too much information.
All sorts of thoughts, running in your mind right now.
“Are you okay?” he asked when he realized you were only staring with a surprised expression at him, “is something wrong?”
“U-uhm, yeah. And, n-no. I’m s-sorry,” you looked away, keeping your phone in your pocket.
Chanyeol chuckled, “why are you getting flustered? I don’t bite!”
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” you purse your lips.
“You’re a shy one, aren’t you? Don’t worry! I’m good at making people open up to me” he said as he placed an arm around your shoulder, to which you flinched at.
And Chanyeol was right, he was good at making people open up to him indeed. He made you feel at ease with his jokes, but more than that, you felt safe at how he doesn’t pressure you to talk about yourself, he just waits for you to willingly share things with him. He just keeps on going on and on about what he wants to say, but he listens attentively the second you open your lips to talk.
"Oh how I love animals so much! I have a dog, his name is Toben but he doesn't listen to me. So i kinda hate him" he said enthusiastically.
"I think I've seen you once with him, the black one?" you recalled.
"Yes that's him! I used to have a cat too but he ran away from home. His name was Bach"
"I actually have a hamster. Her name is Lilie. You should meet her she's a total fluff ball" you said as you took your phone out and show him a picture of your syrian hamster.
"Oh my god she's so cute!" his eyes grew wider than it originally is.
You chuckled, "You must really like pets that much."
"Oh trust me, I even brought a rat home. My mom scolded me so much," and it's you who has wide eyes now.
You grew close to Chanyeol in a span of a few days. You would walk to school and walk home together with him almost everyday. You learned a lot of things about him, while he was also able to slowly make you open up to him. The both of you would ramble about random things while doing homework or eating dinner at each other’s house, but he never crossed the borderline and asked you about your past. You couldn’t be more grateful that you found a friend like him. It’s the bare minimum, but it’s important to you and no one really does it like that anymore, not for you at least.
“What’s the square root of 441?” He asked, biting the tip of the pen he was holding.
“21, I think? Let me check,” you said as you took out the calculator in your backpack.
“It’s okay I got it aaaand— Wow! You’re right!” He jumped out of his seat and ruffled his fluffy brown hair in amusement. You chuckled and took a sip from the tea his mom made for you.
“You’re amazing, how do you know that? Did you just mentally solve that?” He sat back down again.
“Of course not. I liked maths so much as a kid, I memorized the perfect squares at some point.” you mumbled, redirecting your focus back to the homework in front of you.
“In many years of living, I never once met someone who memorized perfect squares” Chanyeol said as he held his face in his big hands.
“Now you did”
He chuckled, “Yeah, memorable. Anyway, are you free this friday?”
You bit your lip in sudden anxiety, “I-i don’t know. N-not sure. Why?”
“Some of our classmates are going to a party, and they invited me,” he hesitated a little before he continued, “I just wondered if you wanted to come? With me?”
You feel your heart beat faster, “No, sorry. I think I’ll be helping my dad on Friday.”
“Oh it’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” whispered Chanyeol, looking back down to his homework.
Friday came, and you thought it was weird to walk home alone for the first time. You got used to chatting with Chanyeol while on the way home, and now it was completely silent. When you got home, you threw yourself to your bed. You decided to get your laptop and binge watch another series on netflix.
It was around 7:30 pm when your phone rang. You looked at the caller ID and picked up hesitantly when you realized it was Chanyeol’s. “Why would he call so suddenly though?” you whispered to yourself.
“Chanyeol?” You said as you bring the phone up to your ear.
“hey Y/N! What’s up?” he chirped weirdly, probably drunk.
“Nothing much. Are you drunk?”
“I’m wasted. They tricked me, they said it was juice. They tricked me, y/n!” you cringed at how much he was slurring his words. It was obvious that alcohol was already in control of his system.
“How are you gonna get home?”
“I don’t know. Everyone is drunk here and–” he hiccuped, “they’re all nasty. I wanna go home”
You paused for a bit, checking the time on your laptop. “Turn on your location and stay there. I’ll pick you up”
Chanyeol nodded and hummed from the other line. You quickly ended the call to run to your closet to grab a jacket, and leave the house.
You didn’t know if you were dumb or stupid, but you were sure you were either.
Why would you suggest picking him up? From a house party? Which you avoided so much with all your might?
When you reached the house that showed up on Chanyeol’s location— which took you 30 minutes to find, you had to pat yourself on your shoulders and remind yourself that you were doing it for a friend, and if you were just gonna walk away, this friend might get in trouble. You inhaled deeply before entering, a pool of evidently alcohol intoxicated bodies welcoming you.
It took you only a few seconds to spot Chanyeol, the only giant in the room. But it took you a few minutes to get to him because as he said, the crowd was pretty nasty.
“Alright time to go home now big buddy, let’s go” you tapped Chanyeol on his forearms, bracing yourself in case he’d stumble and fall.
“Goodbye my friends!” Chanyeol screamed over the booming music from the speakers. “You’re leaving already?” a familiar voice replied, and you realized it was one of your classmates, Max.
You only nodded at him after flashing a small smile. “Are you seriously going Chan? It’s too early! We haven’t been to the fun part yet!” Max said before taking a sip of whatever alcohol from his red cup.
“What fun part? I think I’m just gonna go home, Max” Chanyeol replied, seemingly sobering up a little.
“Oh you know, the fun part! When all the chics get wasted!” your mind was getting hazy at what you heard, and you nearly lost your balance. Your grip on Chanyeol’s sweater got tighter, which made him look at you.
But he didn’t answer Max, instead he turned away. You took that as a signal to go. “Yeol, the door is this way” you told him as you tug on the sleeve of his sweater.
The walk back home was messy. Chanyeol was silent but he was walking in zig zags and you had to hold him up a couple of times because he would fall asleep while walking.
“Y/n?” you hummed in response.
“Nevermind” he replied. Honestly you were nervous, what did he want to say? Is something wrong? But you only let it go.
“Y/n.”
“Yes Yeol?”
He stopped walking, “Why don’t you ever tell me anything about you?”
“What do you m-mean? I tell you about myself too,” you managed to mumble out.
“No, you don't,” he said in a tone an octave lower.
You held onto his arm again and dragged him with you, “Yeol, you’re drunk let’s go now.” He allowed you to pull him and just walked along, still in zig zags.
When you were in front of his house you took your phone out to call his sister, to help you get him in. You helped him sit down on the chair outside while waiting for her to pick up.
“Y/n, you know I’m not one to pry, right?”
You looked at him in confusion, you slowly nodded. You waited for him to continue.
“But I really have to ask this,” he said as he played with the zipper of his backpack in his hands, not looking at you.
“What is it?” you shivered.
“By any chance, were you from Hyundai Highschool?” he finally looked at you, straight in your eyes.
You didn’t know what to do or what to feel. He was sober now, and you could tell he knew what he was talking about. Many questions were popping in your mind, yet your brain felt empty. You weren’t able to form anything to say. You only backed away from him, and then ran away.
You went straight to your room, ignoring your father’s attempt to hug you. You fell to the floor the moment you closed the door.
Why did he ask you that?
How did he find out?
Were people talking about you at the party?
Did someone gaslight you at the party, again?
Will he judge you too?
You spent the whole weekend locking yourself up in your room, overthinking about the same things over and over again. You were almost sure someone told him from the party, and he will probably think differently about you now. But you are honestly hoping that he wouldn’t. He’s a good guy, isn’t he?
Monday came, and you were mentally preparing yourself to talk to Chanyeol while preparing your lunch box. You made sure to go out earlier than usual to wait for him so you could walk to school together, but to no avail. There was no sign of your giant friend going out of the house next to yours. You had to run to school or you would be late for the first period.
When you reached the classroom you looked around but Chanyeol wasn’t there. You caught your breath and sat down quietly on your seat. There was barely 2 minutes left before the first period, and you were worried for Chanyeol.
“Hey Y/n, where’s Chanyeol? You didn’t come together?” one of your classmates asked. You shook your head no, but suddenly the back door opened.
There he is
He took his seat in front of you but he didn’t spare you a smile, not even a glance.
The whole day went by with Chanyeol avoiding you and ignoring your attempts to talk to him. He looked at you at some point, but with sad eyes and a small smile. After that, you decided to give up and let him be.
You know—you think you do, why he was acting that way, and you don’t blame him for it. But you at least need to hear it from him, rather than assume things which could be entirely wrong.
You didn’t expect him to pull you to the school garden at dismissal, though.
“Y/n. I know I’ve been such a horrible friend today,” he paused. He looked down, avoiding your eyes.
“but I don’t think we should be friends.”
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