#test post idk maybe i should draw something else this looks weird | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vonnyphant · 4 years ago

Text

To Blog or Not to Blog?

“You should start a diary and write about your experiences. It may help people going through the same thing.”

Honestly? If there’s one thing I discovered about this diagnosis, it’s that it makes me pretty damn selfish. I don’t want to help other people (not just yet, anyway). But putting some thoughts down about this time in my life may be of some sort of therapeutic value, and I do want to help myself.

(Maybe for once, saving the world can wait. Do you remember how, soon after the pandemic hit, people stopped avoiding plastic and single-use items? When your health is at risk, suddenly rainforests and polar bears and the planet are deprioritised- not that anyone will admit to this. But this is my diary and I can say what I want!* Writing for myself it is.)

Having established my less-than-Mother-Theresa-like reasons for this blog, my conscience cleared, it’s time to start. This is where the Lifetime movie shows me, in a half daze, mellowed out on drugs while they sew a mediport into my chest to start administering chemicals. A fast lane to my bloodstream. A docking station. The soundtrack? Hopefully ‘Across The Universe’ by the Beatles (possibly Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. If I get a say in it, I veto The Walrus) Time to pump this body full of drugs that’ll make my hair fall out.

Wait, what?

Voice Over: “Yep. That’s me. You’re probably wondering what I am doing here…” //record scratch - freeze frame - fast rewind to the psychedelic outtro of A Day In The Life//

Two months ago, during rub-a-dub-in-the-tub (less naughty than it sounds, was just washing myself), my mind inexplicably went to an episode of Beverly Hills 90210, s1 (aired in 1992- yes, I am that old), where Brenda Walsh has a breast cancer scare. I say inexplicably, because my usual shower fantasies do not include Ms Shannon Doherty - if I was going to pick a shower lady, I’d opt for Charlize Theron, Kiera Knightly or Winona Ryder in their short-hair phases, but that is neither here nor there.

Say what you want for 90s television- weird outfits and ponytails notwithstanding, in their AfterSchoolSpecial PSA way, they dedicated a whole scene to the girls giving themselves a breast exam, including how-to instructions**, and eventhough I was only 11 years old when I saw it, I remembered what to do, and for the last 30 years, every now and then I have randomly carried it out while wondering how I always preferred Brandon over Dylan and how my tastes have changed over time.

But this time - my hand actually found something.

I took a deep breath and calmed myself down the same way I did after finding spots on my skin, lumps on my head and every time I sneezed since covid-19; by telling myself to fucking snap out of my hypochondria tendencies. One cannot go to the doctor every damn day after all. Breast tissue is pretty lumpy and I assumed it was just imaginary. I made an appointment to see a therapist, and put it out of my mind until a few weeks later, when one of the kids came crashing down on me (literally) and faceplanted in my boob (as they do).

Now this always hurts af, but it just hurt that little more that day, so that I grabbed the appendage in question and went “WHAT THE--!” And I felt it again- the lump, more defined than a few weeks before.

Cue a lot more freaking out than the first time, and after a sleepless night, imagining what my funeral would look like (as one does), I decided to go to the gynocologist the same day or risk never to sleep again.

After a long wait and an ultrasound, my doctor assured me that while there really was a mass, it had every indication of being benign. We should keep an eye on it. If I was worried, I could schedule a second screening, but would not likely get an appointment before April. I scheduled one and tried to focus on preparing our first lockdown Christmas.

But over the holidays, the lump started hurting, even when I wasn’t poking it or having a kid catapult themselves into my chest. I’d be Netflix and Chilling, and suddenly - ZAP - like someone stuck a hot needle into it. Repeatedly. My nipple would go numb or start tingling like a bodypart that fell asleep. It freaked me out, and in the new year, I realised I couldn’t wait until April - I had to get it checked out again or I may worry myself to death.

My gynocologist did another ultrasound and again, told me not to worry. I told her it was way too late for that as I had been worried for weeks, and I wanted the thing biopsied (they gave Brenda Walsh one too, after all! It’s the only way to be 100% sure). She referred me to the hospital. At the description of my symptoms, I could come directly, and the radiologist told me in no unclear terms: “I will not let you leave this room until we draw blood and take several biopsies.” Okay- not exactly what one wants to hear at that point, but at the same time, I figured knowing would be better than guessing by the shape of it.

Test results took a week. I went in, being prepared to be told (like Brenda) it was a harmless clump of random cells or a cyst we could have removed like a wart. Only it wasn’t. It was breast cancer, an aggressive, fast-growing kind, and had I waited until April, that could have had disastrous consequences.

While the doctor explained we now needed to determine the scope of the spread and take more tissue to determine what kind of chemo (if any) could be applied, all my 2020-PTSD brain could think was:

��.............of course”.

Didn’t hear much of what she said afterwards.

Another harrowing 4 days went by, with a CT screening with contrast solutions that gave me an intense stomach ache as well as a migraine, and finally, a fully rounded diagnosis and treatment advice could be made.

Thankfully, all my organs as well as lymphnodes were clear, so it appears to be a localised tumor. And here we are - to fight this thing with chemicals and then cut out whatever is left. Genetics testing to see about the likelihood of a recurrency (and a possible double mastectomy if so - ‘pulling an Angelina Jolie’, ‘not saving the tatas’, insert ‘Think About It meme’...can’t have breast cancer if you don’t have breasts! THINK ABOUT IT***).

Chances are good. I need to cling to that while I wait for this port and treatment to start. I have accepted the inevitable hair loss, have scheduled a ritual ‘crazy hair cutting party’ with my kids for this weekend (as I would rather shave it off in one go than clean up clumps and strands over the course of weeks and look like Gollum), and I have sewn several funny little hats for inside wear and ‘going out’ (though where will I be going in pandemic, idk).

I was going to end this post on a light and happy note - but I must admit my confidence just took a really big hit in real time, as I googled how to spell Shannon’s last name for this blog entry and found out that she was treated for breast cancer in 2015, initially succesfully, but it reappeared metastasized in 2020 (again: ‘of course...when else’) and she is now in stage IV. Fuck 2020.

What are the odds that the woman whose character made me discover my own breast cancer is now, in fact, dying of the same disease? This will surely haunt me for a long time to come.

More tomorrow? Or soon? It may take a while. Until then: outro to It’s Getting Better.

*also for the record I would like to state that I’ve sewn my own masks from upcycled pillowcases and continued using fruit- and vegetable nets to avoid plastic; maybe that makes up for me being utterly selfish at the moment. Karma +1?

** https://youtu.be/pkgYXITkrfw (the scene from BH 90210)

***cis men / trans women without breasts can also get breast cancer (even though it’s rare) so this meme doesn’t really hold up, but that’s the whole point of the meme ;)

8 notes · View notes

its8simplejulesblog · 5 years ago

Text

It’s Been 17 Days

Since I’ve written anything on here..I’m sorry. I think I just got caught up in the monotony of quarantine (and also I did a lot of tanning/ subsequent falling asleep on my porch outside) that took up a lot of my time. However, the pessimistic side of me says that no one really reads this anyway, so maybe the timing isn’t as important as I thought, and this really is just for me. No matter, I find that I can’t force my writing. I really only do it when there is something pressing on my mind and there definitely is tonight.

(idk why the only gifs on tumblr are anime girls, but honestly I’m not that surprised)

Quarantine has tested me a lot in terms of how I deal with my view of myself. I’m sure that’s true for everyone. When I have absolutely nothing to do I’ll sit on my bed and think about what my values are. I know that first and foremost, knowing my worth is something I value a lot. Sometimes I have to peel myself off of tik tok because even though I feel the best I ever have, it’s still impossible to not be disheartened by the appearances of some of the girls on that app. It’s so sad too because you can clearly see the affects that that kind of content has on its audiences.

I think that something I’ve come to notice as well is that modeling was a really healthy thing in my life before the pandemic started. That seems really backwards, but I think that it boosted my spirits so much. I think it’s because I never went into it with the mindset of “I want everyone to feel like shit looking at a good picture of me,” but moreso, “I’m actually really happy with myself right now and I want to capture that feeling.” Working with Dom has been a highlight as well, because even though we’re promoting her business, it’s just fun for us. We put on Disney music and laugh and she makes me feel like I should be proud of myself. And, the beautiful thing about it is that everyone has something that makes them feel like that: whether it’s singing or dancing or acting or programming or mechanical engineering or drawing etc etc.

Another thing I’ve noticed on tik tok: everyone..and I mean EVERYONE is obsessed with love. For obvious reasons, haha, but the level of toxicity is crazy. It’s almost like no one knows how they really should be treated and the bare minimum is a shock. The amount of tik toks that are about girls getting texts from their crush or being left on read or their body counts or makeup to impress him is exhausting. Honestly, I feel fatigued :) And it is nearly always followed by tik toks of girls crying and their makeup is running and they’re saying they hate men or they’re screaming about how their ex is a piece of shit and “look at me now.”

I get it, I understand everything they’re saying. Getting left on read sucks, and it hurts, and you overthink it and think you did something wrong. But, at the end of the day, do you SEE yourself? You look ridiculous. One of my biggest lessons in quarantine is quite simply to let that shit go. Did I cry to my mom at 4am because I guy stopped talking to me for a day? Yes, but did I reflect on it and recognize that that was probably a waste of time (and sleep) also yes.

In all of my blog posts the central message ends up being essentially the same, perspective. Recently I’ve chosen to see the world in as positive a light as I possibly can. It’s SO hard to do, especially in these times, but I’m holding out for good. Good attracts good. I like to think. If you sink yourself as low as you can, and believe the worst in people, then that’s what you’ll attract, and you’ll end up hurt. It happens everyone time. I know that a lot of stuff I write sounds so cringey, but it is truly stuff I have come to believe during quarantine. You almost feel lighter when you treat life like a gift instead of a curse.

Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about my future. Not in an unhealthy way, because I like to be as mindful to what is in front of me as possible, but as something to get excited about. I can’t wait to (possibly) go to grad school. I can’t wait to travel and do good for others. I can’t wait to learn as much as I can about as many people as I can. I can’t wait to meet my best friend and get married and blah blah I’m just excited. I just wish more people would embrace the uncertainty of the things to come instead of back away from it (disclaimer that I recognize that this is a privilege I have as I notice that there are many factors that lend to my opportunities in this weird world we live in)

So, when things don’t go my way in the present, I’m not going to say it’s not hard. Being an empath, I get close and attached to people really quickly and when it’s not reciprocated in the same way it really really stings. The key is not taking that to heart though. I know what I’m worth and while I always give people the benefit of the doubt, I also need to recognize that it’s just a fact that not everything will work out in my favor. And if someone is not jumping at the chance to talk to you or be with you or make you feel like you’re not worth their time then you need to recognize that that’s not a reflection of your value.

I always knew that :) That was nothing new. Putting it into practice is harder though, but every night I feel better. (I also say this every time) but the people you surround yourself with tend to be a reflection of how you feel about yourself and I’m happy to say that that is true for me.

Of course, there are times when some things just make no sense and you take it out on yourself; but let me be the first to urge you not to do that. You never ever know what is going on in someone’s life or mind. We’re all innately, primally, selfish, so of course we would think that we did something to provoke someone or make them hate us. Chances are though, it doesn’t involve you. The more I grow up the more selective I am in the battles I choose. Most of the times, playing games with people is not the move. If you’re upset, please god be upfront about it. You don’t want to spend your time on someone or something that doesn’t make you better.

The second, and more important part of that though: leave it alone. This is something I struggle with. If I’m upset with someone I’m usually not “mean,” I’ll just make a lot of passive aggressive jokes about them. Again, not my finest moments. It’s something I’m working on leaving in the past. There’s no use bringing someone else down. I’m not a hypocrite.

Anyway, in conclusion, I know that quarantine can be pretty lonely. I think I’m more lonely now than I was before solely because people are starting to go out and hang out with friends now (which is something that my family has definitely been more cautious about). At the end of it all though, I think I made the best friend I’ve ever had during quarantine (it’s myself, if that wasn’t clear)

It’s so difficult to sit with yourself and be content. I’m definitely not there, but I’m a lot closer than I was. And even though I most definitely fo not talk to my friends 24/7, I know they’re still there. That trust is something I really value. And, while I appreciate it, I’m excited to carry my own weight a little bit better when this is all over.

You’re all Valuable (Yes I mean ALL of you)

-Julia

1 note · View note

marksleepy · 7 years ago

Text

wish upon a scintilla of hope

word count: 4849 worth of fluff and idk like 5% of chensung because they’re such cute best friends a/n: i spent so long on this only @simplyaroha knows. jael i’m so sorry for keeping you waiting LOL. and i want to gift @chenleplanet with this because ryne your love for chenle is unreal and ily <3 i also want to gift @jenoist with this as vivi you’re the nicest and you make me cry jscudnvifjsdb ily2. lastly, gifting you, a reader, with this because i’m thankful that you’re reading this (or going to?). if this is my first fic you’re reading then hello i hope you stay and read my future tales ahaha. if this isn’t the first then hey!! thanks so much for staying. i really appreciate it! merry early christmas everybody. p.s. italicised words are for dream talks and texts in case you get confused

chenle clapping cuz i finally finished this thousand weeks long thing. gif belongs to @nakamotens :) there’s already a watermark on the gif but i’m just doing what’s right

The 11th night of each month—the only night when you don’t dream. Tons of people labour under the misapprehension that they don’t dream every night, but that’s simply because they don’t remember what they were dreaming of.

Tonight, an endless tenebrosity stretches before you.

You think of ‘Hey’, and immediately the word appears in the darkness, faint and in the colour of snow.

There’s no reply. Which sucks as this means you’ll have to spend the next seven hours or so in total nothingness, unless the person at the other end of the country (or world, you don’t know for sure) answers you. It should’ve been somewhere near an hour when a foggy yet enthusiastic ‘Hi!’ comes into view.

Sorry, I was catching up on some homework, it continues.

What time is it? you think instantly.

My phone tells me it was 1:04 am the last time I saw it.

You should start going to bed earlier, loser, you respond.

Communicating with soulmates would’ve been a lot easier if names aren’t eschewed. You’ve tried thinking about the most uncommon names, but they refuse to come to light. This explains why you and your soulmate decided to call each other ‘loser’ on the fourth encounter a few months ago. It’s not the cutest, but it’ll have to do.

Don’t tell me what to do, loser.

Fine. What do YOU want to do?

I don’t know.

You sigh, if that’s even possible at this moment. Do people sigh while dreaming? You assume they do. Tell me more about yourself then. The only thing I know about you is that you’re an annoying boy.

His reply comes a little late. You got the gender right but the adjective wrong. Now let me go to sleep.

You’re already sleeping, dork.

You can almost hear him chuckle. You feel a wistful longing for his voice.

I’m just kidding. What do you want to know about me? His words emerge, a colon and right bracket following close. They join the string of words disappearing above.

The hall is snug after walking in the icy wind outside. The assembly that all students attend religiously will begin in a few minutes. Your eyes dart from one student to another, in search of a boy with lilac hair. But he finds you first.

“I’m right here, Y/N!” Chenle yells, clamping his hands on your shoulders with the largest grin on his face.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you say, turning around to face him.

His smile seems to get wider if that’s feasible. “Yeah, I believe you.”

You know you’ve lost when a smile threatens to surface.

Every school year starts off with students sitting according to their classes. However, by mid-February (sometimes earlier), the rule is long broken with students scattered everywhere in the hall with their companions from other classes or grades. One clear example is a senior hanging out with a junior, and in this case, Mark and Donghyuck, who are laughing over the funniest joke they’ve ever heard.

“Let’s go look for Jisung,” Chenle says. He clasps your wrist and pushes through the crowd. You feel a strong beat of your heart, something you experience whenever he does that. His touch feels like wearing gloves on a snowy winter day, tucking yourself under a blanket on a cold winter night. You shake your head. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. You can’t be feeling like this. Chenle isn’t your soulmate.

But… It’s okay to prefer someone to your soulmate, right?

You decide that it’s wrong as soon as the question slips. This feeling for Chenle, you convince yourself, is patently temporary. Besides, Chenle doesn’t like you in that way. It’s indubitable.

It also feels extremely strange to enjoy being around someone so much, especially if that someone isn’t who you talk to every 11th night of the month.

Maybe you don’t even like Chenle. So what if you feel accomplished when he laughs heartily at your jokes? So what if your eyes light up every time you see someone with lilac hair on the street (not very often), only to be disappointed when said person wasn’t who you thought it was? So what if you associate love songs with him? So what if your stomach flutters whenever he grabs your hand? So what—

“Y/N? Y/N!” Chenle waves his hand before your face. You blink at him.

“You okay? You seem to be deep in thought,” he continues. He has no idea.

He waves to Jisung. The latter has two empty seats beside him, and he beckons both of you over.

The hall is calmer than before, with most already seated down. Chenle sits between you and Jisung. They start talking about everything imaginable, frequently laughing mid-sentence. Your heart melts at this exuberant duo, and you often catch yourself staring at the older of the pair.

Someone catches you doing so too.

“Somebody’s real busy.”

You snap out of your reverie to see Jisung looking at you knowingly.

Chenle has a look of confusion and embarrassment on his face. “Are we boring you?”

You shake your head just as the principal taps on the microphone twice.

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t really your thing,” Chenle resumes. At this point, you don’t even know what he’s talking about in the first place.

“It’s okay, Chenle,” you reassure him. “You— Both of you never bore me.”

You spend the next hour listening to the principal drone on about God knows what and stealing glances at a boy with lilac hair and inappropriate laughter.

“What’s your soulmate like?” Chenle asks you from his desk. His highlighter is poised over a page of his science textbook as he waits for a reply.

You look up from your calculus worksheet and eye him sceptically from where you’re sitting on the wooden floor of his bedroom. “That’s new.”

“I’m just curious.”

You turn your attention back to the paper resting on your lap as his question replays in your head. You’re at his house studying for a test, mainly to seek for warmth. It isn’t snowing, but it’s freezing. You’d left your house keys on your desk and aren’t keen to be outdoors making beats with your teeth. Also, no one will be home until dusk.

“He’s nice,” you murmur. “Funny.”

Chenle goes back to highlighting some texts, occasionally writing on Post-it notes. “Do you, uh, like him?”

If you were brave, you would say, “No. I like you.”

But you aren’t, so you say, “I guess.”

Chenle’s tense shoulders sag. He leans his back on the chair, tapping his pen on the edge of his desk.

“What about you? Do you like your soulmate?” you question. You look at the naked trees outside with gnawing uneasiness in your stomach.

“Yeah"—his cheeks redden slightly—"but I…

“Nothing. We’re supposed to be studying.” He pulls his chair closer to the desk and uncaps another highlighter. You want to argue that he’d started talking first but decided against it.

The next time he talks to you is to ask you what you want to have for dinner.

You spend your days taking tests, hanging out with friends, and being muddled by Chenle’s behaviour.

“Did I say something wrong?” You and Jisung are standing outside the soccer field, the question accompanied by your foggy breath tumbling out your mouth before you can stop it. Jisung stops observing the senior practising his kicks and turns his head to look at you.

“What?”

“It’s nothing. Chenle’s just being strange.”

Jisung clears his throat. “He is?”

You spot Chenle running wildly on the field, engaged in a friendly match with some sophomores.

“Not now. But when we’re alone he becomes awkward.”

“Maybe he, I don’t know, likes you?” Jisung pushes his bangs out of his face. “How’s alone time with him?”

You look down at the ground, fingers gripping the fence, face pink from the cold and something else. “Don’t phrase it that way.”

“Here comes lover boy.”

You grimace at his words. Chenle skips towards you and Jisung, his hair sticking to his forehead and shirt soaked in sweat despite the numbing temperature. Jisung wraps a towel around the older and helps him put on his coat. “That was fun. Thanks for waiting for me.”

Chenle reaches for your hand and freezes at once.

Jisung doesn’t seem to notice anything. He takes off first, shoving his hands in his winter coat. “Remind me to hit you when I can feel my hands again.”

Chenle chuckles, and you can’t say you relate to Jisung. It feels like you’re touching hot coal.

Chenle once told you receiving coals for Christmas wasn’t bad at all. “Just burn them and roast marshmallows.”

You had watched the fire flicker through his eyes.

Chenle’s hair is dyed a hazelnut brown colour when you see him in school. It’s as if your lungs are caught in a mesh and entangled. The air feels thick and suffocating.

“What do you think?” is the first thing he says when your eyes meet.

You force yourself to breathe. “What happened to lilac hair? That was such a look, man.”

“I got tired of people giving me weird looks.”

And why would people do that? You can’t understand why a change of his hair colour has this big of an effect on you.

You shrug, trying to look nonchalant. “It looks good on you.”

You nearly miss the way his face reddens as he looks down at his dirty Converse.

“Y/N…

Y/N.

Y/N!”

“What do you want, Chenle?”

“Look at me.”

He raises his right hand up to your left cheek and draws comforting, tingly circles with his thumb. Then he’s leaning in, closer. He looks at you through half-closed lids before coming closer. Closer.

“Y/N. I…”

You feel your heart throbbing loudly in your ears, like drums beating on the street during festivals.

You don’t feel anything on your lips. But your eyes stay closed.

“Y/N.”

You love hearing your name roll so effortlessly off his tongue. You love it. You love him.

“Y/N. I—”

“You what?”

“I swear if you don’t get up right now I’ll really kill you!”

You shoot up from your laying position, your hair a mess and your eyes swollen with sleep. Jisung stands at the foot of your bed, his hands on his hips as he lours at you.

“What are you doing in my room?” you ask, groggy.

“Are you serious?”

You free your legs from your woollen blanket and shudder when your feet touch the gelid floor.

“We were supposed to study at Chenle’s, remember?” Jisung sighs. “Clearly not.”

You give him a bashful smile, eyeing the bedroom doorway.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently. “He isn’t here. He’s helping his mum with groceries.”

“I wasn't—”

“Just get ready and meet us at his place, Y/N.” He gives you one last look before disappearing down the hallway. “Your face is red. Do you want me to open the windows?”

“I thought you were joking!” You uncap the half-filled bottle then cap it after a second. “Who associates Jisung with textbooks and homework?”

Jisung throws a tiny ball of paper at you. “Judgemental. I do study.”

“Stop it, you two,” Chenle chuckles. “Let’s actually get stuff done. We can also ask Y/N since she’s the smartest one here.”

“She is?” Jisung snorts. He earns a punch on the arm from you while your face glows with embarrassment.

So the three of you study. Chenle and Jisung have tests on different subjects this week but you don’t. You work on your assignment, which is a research on a historical building. Apart from occasional questions from the duo, the room is otherwise quiet. It’s slowly getting dark, the sun dipping below the horizon.

You look at Chenle discreetly. His eyelids are pink from him rubbing them. He looks cute when he’s serious and focused. There’s a knock on the door before Chenle’s mum pops her head into the room and smiles. “Dinner’s ready if any of you are hungry. Don’t overwork yourselves, alright?”

There are hums and nods, then the room is quiet again. It can’t have been more than five minutes when Jisung says, “Guys! It’s snowing!”

Turns out there are only little specks of snow, much to everyone’s (Jisung’s) disappointment. With the assignment and scrawled notes forgotten in Chenle’s bedroom, you and the pair stand outside just in case white flakes fall again, wriggling about to stay warm.

“This is annoying,” Jisung groans.

Chenle nudges him playfully. “There are a lot more days to come, Jisung.”

Jisung merely shrugs and says he’s hungry. Everyone trudges back into the house, relieved to soak in its warmth.

It’s late when Jisung leaves Chenle’s house, which is starting to slowly lose its heat. The sky is an inky black but there are no visible stars due to the light-polluted city that Chenle lives in. You sit on his cabin bed, head tilted towards the night sky, watching a scintilla in the midst of the darkness.

Your eyes drift to Chenle. He yawns and rubs his eyes for the nth time.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Take a break.”

He stifles another yawn, pushes his arms in the air and stretches. “My mum will murder me if I fail this class again.”

“She did tell us not to overwork ourselves.”

His smile appears. He pushes his chair back and ambles towards the bed to sit beside you. “What are you doing?” He bumps his shoulder against yours.

You point to the tiny spark in the sky.

“Ooh,” he gushes. “Let’s make a wish.”

“That’s not a shooting star, Chenle.”

“That’s fine. I made a wish at camp last year when I thought I saw one. Until I realised it was Renjun throwing a piece of trash across the campsite.”

One end of Chenle’s lips is lifted, and soon both of you are collapsing into gales of laughter.

“What did you wish for?” Chenle asks.

You shake your head, grinning. “Secret.”

It’s the 11th night of the month again. You go to bed quite early, feeling completely knackered from interminable assignments. You wait and wait, looking at lyrics of your favourite song arise as you think of it.

This soulmate of yours sure sleeps late.

All of a sudden, a Hey pops up.

Hi, you reply in your head.

Sorry, I forgot that it’s the 11th.

I have a question.

What is it?

You pause, letting the words disappear as they go higher. You think of your question. Do you like anybody?

Yeah.

He awaits what you have for him next.

Then, have you confessed to that person?

No. I’m too scared to do that.

How do you cope?

Uh, I have a blog where I write what I want to say to her. Yeah, it’s cheesy so go ahead and laugh at me.

You feel yourself smiling. No it’s not. It’s cute.

I can show you it if you want. No one knows about it except for my best friend, only because I foolishly left the page open while I went to the bathroom. That’s how embarrassed I feel about it. But now you know.

I’m honoured.

The website and username he uses show up in a minute. You know the website well, however, he has an odd username—practically like everyone on this planet. It reminds you of Chenle with his strange usernames for all eight of his accounts.

“Why 'dirtykitchenfloor’?” you had choked out. “'terrifyingpickle’. I’m leaving.”

Chenle had grabbed your hand, all but laughing. “Don’t. I have six more.”

You there? These two words knock you back to the blackness.

Yeah. I was thinking about some stuff.

Like the person you like?

What? No. Thanks for reminding me though, I’ll go think about him now.

HAHAHA—pause—well have fun. I’ll be here, roaming.

You imagine the lilac-now-hazelnut hair boy standing beside you outside in the snowy city. The street lamp winks as snow starts to pile up atop and around it. His hair is sprinkled with stardust and snowflakes. His eyes twinkle and his hand feels like a cup of hot chocolate. The fallen snow feels soft beneath your shoes.

Everything feels right.

“I think I’m in love,” Jisung says dreamily.

It’s a frosty afternoon, and you find yourself again with Jisung and Chenle, everyone either sprawled on Jisung’s bed or floor. Drinks and bags of snacks litter the ground. No one pays attention to them.

A weird noise escapes Chenle’s mouth. “With who?”

“My soulmate.”

You snigger and say, “They’re called soulmates for a reason.” You then remember that Chenle isn’t yours. You also don’t know if it’s bad that your soulmate likes someone else. You figure it isn’t, knowing you’re not breaking any hearts around here and you like someone else too.

Jisung prattles on about his soulmate. You nod blankly, and catch Chenle gazing at you. He points to Jisung covertly before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. There’s a beam on your face.

“You aren’t even listening to me,” Jisung groans. “Stop flirting with each other.”

“At least I have someone to flirt with,” Chenle sneers.

A thick shade of red mantles your cheeks. “S-stop talking nonsense.”

Chenle looks at you the way a child would look when he’s caught going through presents on the night before Christmas. A reddish hue branches out across his fair complexion.

Jisung’s frown steadily turns into a soft knowing smile. “Since I’m done talking about my amazing love life, it’s your turn. The smarter person starts first.”

The branch tapping on the windows is the only thing disturbing Jisung’s hushed bedroom. You wonder why he hasn’t gotten rid of it. You’d find it difficult to fall asleep on a blustery night.

“So none of you are smart? Not a surprise to me, I guess,” Jisung teases.

“My soulmate has a blog where he writes what he wants to say to the person he likes down,” you begin, ignoring Jisung’s raillery.

Jisung lets out an impressed-sounding “huh” the same time Chenle says, “That’s stupid.”

A grim line forms on your mouth as you stare at him. “I don’t think it is.”

"Really?” Chenle coughs deliberately. “That seems so cowardly.” Jisung cocks his head a little to the right twice out of habit, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches the exchange between you and Chenle. “I think it’s stupid too,” the younger of the pair blurts out.

Chenle glares at Jisung. “No, it’s not.”

“You said it was! I’m just agreeing with you.”

“I’m just… just agreeing with Y/N.”

You snicker as they start to banter. They stop and stare at you, and soon the room is filled with three friends who are attacked by uncontrollable laughter.

Jisung wipes at his eyes and after he’s calmed down, he says, “I wanna love like Y/N’s soulmate.”

“Me too,” Chenle says, albeit having a faraway look in his eyes.

“Don’t you already?”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Sh-shut up!” Jisung mimics. Chenle simply gets up and flicks Jisung’s forehead. He whines in pain and flicks the former back. You sit up on the spot on Jisung’s bed and smile.

Happy. Happy is what you feel.

You don’t know how you or Chenle do it, but it’s three in the morning when you finally shut your laptop and let out a wavering cry. “I’m done. Spent.”

“Let’s get some sleep.” Chenle yawns, lumbering to his bed and pulling the sheets over his entire body.

“Throw me a pillow and blanket.”

“What?” Chenle peers at you. “You’re not sleeping on the floor. It’s not carpeted and it’s freezing.”

“I’ll be fine, worrywart.”

“Who even says that?” He gives you a blue pillow dotted with white clouds and a soft blanket. “You wanna swap spots instead?”

“Go to sleep, Chenle.” You tuck yourself under the blanket, which comes with his scent and a hint of flowery laundry detergent. With heavy and teary eyes from yawning too much, you lie facing the ceiling, the floor a tad cold for comfort. Your mind threatens to drag you to sleep, until a weak voice breaks the silence of the night.

“Are you asleep?”

“Yes,” you mumble, your eyes shut, hardly able to contemplate what you’re saying.

He laughs lightly. “I can’t sleep. Talk to me.”

“Nice.”

“Y/N.”

“Chenle,” you mutter, pulling the blanket up till it covers your chin.

“Cat.”

“Dolphin.”

Right now you’re starting to wake up. You lie on your side and prop the side of your head in your palm, facing him. He mirrors your position.

“I actually hate you,” you quip.

“No you don’t.”

“Right for once.”

He closes his eyes, his head drooping. You study his soft features, feeling your eyes beginning to close again. Your head hits the pillow and you pull the blanket over your shoulder. Your teeth chatter slightly, but that’s okay—you’re too tired to care anyway.

You wake up when the sky is still black and starless. Chenle’s scent seems to have gotten stronger. You sit up, using your elbows as support, only to see the bed empty and rumpled. Something breathes against your arm, and you almost smack yourself from pulling back too fast.

There you see Chenle curled up beside you on the ground like a foetus. His blanket is thrown over you, but it’s riding off his body, his tummy exposed to the cold. You remove his blanket from yourself and cover him up to the neck. He stirs but stays asleep, sighing with satisfaction.

“You’re an odd one,” you whisper in the unlit room. “I don’t mind it one bit.”

You mirror his position this time, dreams taking you on different adventures—all of them with this boy who makes you feel warmer this winter.

“You chose to sleep on the floor when you have a bed,” you say between munches of your cereal the next morning.

“I didn’t choose.” Chenle dips his bread in your bowl of milk. “I fell off the bed.”

“Ha ha. Remind me to laugh again later.”

Tap tap.

Jisung stands at the door. Chenle opens it to reveal him clad in a sweater, coat and fuzzy pants with matching shoes.

“Pfft, what are you wearing?” you joke. You spoon some cereal into your mouth.

“Yes good morning and thanks for inviting me to the sleepover,” Jisung says, throwing his bag on the floor and plopping himself down on the high stool opposite you.

Chenle returns to the stool to your left. He pulls his bread apart and waves a piece at Jisung. “You turned us down!”

“Oh right. Because you two are boring.”

“And somehow you like hanging out with us?” you say with amusement.

“Whatever,” Jisung says. “So… are the two of you a thing now?”

Chenle splutters on his juice, orange liquid flying out his mouth. You feel the heat on your face even though the cold air that followed Jisung in is still lingering in the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Jisung laughs, slapping him on the back.

You rub your temples. “It’s too early for this.”

“I thought you talked things through last night.”

“Just shut up, Jisung. Eat your cereal,” Chenle rebukes. He hops off the stool to go wash his mouth at the sink. Jisung shakes his head in disappointment.

can you come out now? reads Chenle’s text at 12 in the morning.

You compose a new message. I don’t plan on getting murdered by either one of my parents tonight

please

omg fine. why are you here so late

i just wanted to see you

Your heart leaps in your chest. ok chenle.

You drape your woollen blanket around you and lift your window up, feeling like those furtive teenagers in movies. An icy gust of wind slaps your cheeks, but the coldness dissipates when you see Chenle stomping on the crunchy ice on the gravel path outside, his hands shoved deep into his coat pocket.

“You okay?” you say after jumping from your window sill (cautiously).

“Can I ask you a question?” he says with foggy breath.

“Yeah. I mean we’re already here.”

He closes his eyes and gulps. “Can I kiss you?”

“Chenle…”

He blocks your view by putting his hand before your eyes. “Don’t look at me. I’m embarrassed.”

You grab his arm with your shaky one and pull him towards you. He’s so close your cloudy breaths mingle. It’s a test to see who makes the first move.

He does.

And your lips feel like it’s on fire.

He really is an odd one, but you don’t mind it one bit.

You fall asleep with pink cheeks that night and the feeling of Chenle’s hand at the back of your neck, spreading warmth throughout your body.

Hey loser. I kissed him. You’re starting off bold tonight. You couldn’t care less.

In a split second, your reply comes. Really?

Yes, really.

How was it?

It was… I don’t know.

Like you were going to melt? Like you were floating with the clouds?

Yes. Very much.

I felt like that too.

You think of the winter spice jelly sitting in the fridge, knowing completely how it feels. Because you’re just as stiff as it is.

You refuse to analyse the words. Ohh, you kissed her too?

I did. I went to her house 30 minutes before it turned 12. Stood outside considering if I should just go home and keep my feelings bottled up forever, or put our friendship at risk by doing it.

You feel like tearing up. I think you did the right thing.

Me too.

You search for the hazelnut hair boy in the crowded hall. It’s been tougher as almost everyone has that same hair colour. Mark and Donghyuck are chaffing each other; a group of juniors—Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin—enters the hall, chatting incessantly. Pretty much a common sight to see.

A hand rests on your shoulder from behind.

“I know I know,” Chenle grins. “You weren’t looking for me.”

“You knew?” you ask. Both of you move to a less packed area.

He nods. “But it was after I told you about the blog.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought you were smart enough to figure it out.”

You scoff, but a smile forces its way onto your face.

“I guess I’m smarter than you in some way,” he adds, punching you lightly on the biceps.

“Guys!” Jisung bounces towards you and Chenle. He eyes you suspiciously, before moving his attention to Chenle. “So… Are you two a thing now?”

You exchange glances with Chenle.

“Shut up, Jisung.”

Jisung doesn’t get an actual answer, but you’re sure he knows when he laughs with you and Chenle.

“I can’t believe you have a blog filled with your feelings about me,” you tease. “How cheesy.”

“Can we not talk about that now?” Chenle groans, covering his face with his hands. “You said it was cute.”

“It is.”

“I’ll just delete it later and stop liking you.”

You reach for his hands, fisting and trapping them in your palms. “No. I need to read it when you start losing feelings for me.”

“Then I guess you won’t be reading it at all.”

You and Chenle walk under the jet black sky side by side, enjoying the wind’s whispers. His tickles your palm with his pinky and says, “I have more stuff I want to say to you.”

“Go ahead.”

“You’ll have to wait for the 11th.”

You realise your wish came true even before you made it.

a/n: hey!! you made it to the end! for this i want to say thank you once again and i hope you enjoyed this. low-key found the part where renjun threw trash across the campsite funny LOL

#nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #chenle scenarios #nct chenle #zhong chenle #nct fluff #chenle fluff #soulmate #soulmate!au #it's 6 am rip #jet lagged ok #falalalala lalalala

68 notes · View notes