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not-poignant · 3 years

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Do you think many things have changed about you being a writer online since the beginning of the Fae Tales Universe compared to now? Not only writing style, but including how you are online, or how you think about fandom?

Oooooo

*thinks*

Actually yeah, I mean writing style yes, but in terms of how I think about fandom and how I am online, that has changed a lot. (Adding a Read More because oh god this got LONG).

I used to like, try and be 100% kind all the time, since firstly that comes very naturally to me, and secondly because I was so like...happy and thrilled that folks were communicating with me in the beginning.

But then I was taken advantage of, and one person in particular was abusive, and at the time I didn’t see it for what it was. I’ve also been stalked. I’ve had someone turn up on my doorstep uninvited. And over time I think I’ve become no less grateful (if anything I’m more grateful for the amazing readers), but also more wary? Like, I’m more likely to delete troll messages, than I used to. And sometimes I think it will be more obvious if I’m impatient or if I’m asserting a boundary in an ask response.

Radiotherapy to the head/neck for the cancer I have also really altered things there. I realised I could die at any moment, life is really short, my tumours could metastasise at any time (I actually have one that’s growing at the moment, which is alarming) and that I don’t really have the...patience I guess, to spend time constantly saying ‘this isn’t a music rec blog’ or ‘please don’t recommend books to me because most of the time I don’t like them and people tend to resent me for it’ (as an example) year after year after year. Or to deal with bad faith anons, or anons who just enjoy the novelty of getting me to answer incessant questions about space or something else that has nothing to really do with me. I can’t tell you how many asks I’ve gotten about ‘will you ever make Augus and Gwyn dads, could they adopt a baby’ but it’s a lot and I’ve deleted most of them.

So I actually think I’m more realistically human than I used to be, online. Which is a weird thing to say, right? And maybe that pisses people off. I’ve always been very opinionated, probably to my detriment, that’s never really changed. I’m still going to tell antis to go fuck themselves.

I try and stick to a policy now with messages that piss me off, which is ‘take time before you reply to this.’ I don’t always succeed, but I usually like to wait 12-24 hours before I reply to those messages (or delete them), so I can at least give a fair and moderate response. I really hate feeling like I just got angry at someone who’s possibly only 18 years old and doesn’t really know how to articulate themselves well on the internet, and it can sometimes be hard to tell the difference between ‘troll’ and ‘someone who really just is nervous and shy and doesn’t know how to phrase their question.’

In terms of fandom, I love replying to comments more than ever, actually. Like I love it. I love kudos even more than I used to. I really am grateful for all reader engagement. But I don’t have as much time and energy as I used to respond to every ask, so I respond to asks less, and I respond to them in a less timely manner. I really hate that, but sometimes it’s like ‘I can’t spend all of today replying to asks, I literally have to write the chapters that people want to read.’ I also get social anxiety around asks, and people can be impatient - like no one sends a second comment on AO3 going ‘heyyyy you haven’t replied to my comment yet’ - but you’d be surprised how much people put pressure on you on Tumblr sometimes, as though I also don’t have social anxiety and things might be really stressing me out. :(

In terms of my priority, it’s always 1. Writing content, 2. Replying to comments / being active on the Discord, 3. Replying on Patreon when necessary, 4. Replying to asks. If I’m behind on writing, everything else gets hit. I think when I first started out, I actually put comments and asks ahead of writing content sometimes, but now I know I will literally spend all my time responding to folks and that’s a me problem, and I’ve worked on that since lmao.

I’ve realised over the years that instead of just writing for myself, like I always used to, I also just want to deliver so many of you wonderful people good stories. This has come to matter to me more. The best way, I think, to repay some of the amazing faith and love you’ve all showed me, is to try and give you the best possible writing I can until like, my cancer makes that impossible. And so I’ve become a lot more focused as a writer, and a lot more like ‘this is where I want to be.’

I’ve also realised I care a lot less about traditional publishing, I really love serials! Er, that was a big one, I thought one day I’d transition from writing serials online to publishing books, but now I would like to always be writing serials, and publish books on the side. In a perfect world, I could also publish the serials as books too, so people could own them if they wanted to.

I’ve also seen over the years the rise of antis, and puritanical censorship, and more, and that’s made me angrier, and also much, much stronger re: feeling centred in what I write and what I have written. So I feel like I am much more like...genuinely not bothered by what antis have to say to me, and ironically I get less bothered by antis than ever before, probably because they know that I’m Teflon with claws whenever it comes to any of their rhetoric. I have a media degree that says they have no idea what they’re talking about, and I’m angry on behalf of all the readers who feel ashamed for reading certain content, and who deserve not to feel that way. So that’s like...a thing that’s changed over the years - my anger, and my anger on behalf of readers who might feel guilty or ashamed for liking noncon or incest or underage in fiction. It’s fiction. They’re allowed to engage in that without being afraid of being bullied for it. But that’s not the world we live in.

To be honest, a lot of the changes have been positive! I’ve become more sure and focused, I’ve actually become happier as a writer and a person, and I enjoy the fandom experience more, as well as writing fanfiction and stuff. I wish I had more time to like... chat about AUs and stuff and write Tumblr posts like I used to, but radiotherapy hit me pretty hard with some permanent energy loss and side effects, and so where things have changed in a bad way, it’s almost always because of health and not because I love fandom any less. And where I’ve changed in terms of sometimes being a bit more cynical about anon asks I try and remind myself to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and to just remind myself that I have my boundaries, and I’m safe/okay. I hate that I have to do that nowadays, but it was kind of stupid that I didn’t do it before.

I can’t believe how like... how lucky I am to be here. Lucky to be alive. Lucky to write for you all. Lucky to write stories I love. Lucky to reply to comments and asks like this one. I don’t ever want to lose sight of that or the gratitude.

I think the day I stop being grateful, is the day I need to walk away. It’s humbling, honestly, and I feel that more and more over time, and not less. Even when I’m an opinionated dumbass who writes too much most of the time, lmao.

(I didn’t even get to talking about how my writing style changed I’m sorry anon THIS GOT SO LONG FUCK)

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piracytheorist · 3 years

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A Kiss for Good Luck (13/16)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

A/N: With this chapter, two more and the epilogue left, I decided to post them day by day! You can expect the next and final updates on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday :D

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings on AO3)

Word count for this chapter: 3.6k (51k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 13: Emma Swan, May 25th – June 22nd 2016

Emma smiles wide as she watches Killian go to the end of the now huge line to the airport checkpoint. He went back just to give her a kiss, and a part of her is delighted to realize she adores this hopelessly romantic side of him.

He doesn't turn to look at her, but the place is too crowded anyway, and she decides to go back, grab a coffee and wait to watch his plane leave. Instead, Killian's flight is delayed for a few hours. She texts him about it, whether he wants to cross back and join her, but he simply tells her to not worry and go back home.

It sours her mood a little; it may be a bit late in the day, but there's no reason for him to spend all this time alone, and if she judges by the plain tone of his message he doesn't even want to chat until he leaves.

Odd. First he gives up being first in a long line just to kiss her, then he doesn't even want to talk to her.

Perhaps he just wants to rest or sleep until his flight leaves. Emma tries to ignore the insistent little voice in her head that has never truly disappeared since Neal left her.

She turns the radio on while in her car and catches a blues station. The slow music and the complete lack of traffic back to her place calm her thoughts.

She stays up, checking on Killian's flight until it departs, hoping it doesn't mean a thing that Killian himself didn't tell her that his plane was finally leaving.

The next day is easy, checking off a few good cases, and in the evening she meets Ruby for a few drinks.

“So,” Ruby says with a meaningful look, “how was your week?”

Emma sighs happily, and it's with Ruby's smile turning warmer that she remembers she actually had a fantastic time. She's worrying too much.

“It was great. It felt... right, you know? I was a bit scared, but the moment we met at the airport made everything else not matter. He was here, and we could really enjoy our time together...”

Ruby's nodding enthusiastically. “And? How was it?”

“It was... warm and fuzzy...” Emma gives a good look at Ruby, suddenly realizing what she's asking about. “I told you we weren't ready for that.”

“Even after the whole week?”

“I mean, I spent most of my nights looking at my bedroom door and wondering whether I should go and ask him... but it wasn't just me.”

“I admire your patience. And his. And how about him? What do you think it was like for him?”

“I'm not sure, honestly.” Her face falls.

“What happened?”

“Up until the last day, I could swear it was as good for him as it was for me. I mean, he came, right? He chose to. And he looked happy to be here, with me. But a few hours before he had to leave, he seemed restless and anxious.”

“Because he was leaving?”

“I don't know. I...” She sighs. “He hasn't contacted me to let me know he's arrived safely. But I checked Messenger a few hours ago and it said he's been active today.”

“Did you send him a text about it? It would be weird for him to just forget but sometimes it just happens.”

“Should I send one, you think?”

“Yeah. Maybe he was really busy today. What did you say his job is?”

“His father has a boat rental, and sometimes he takes passengers on cruises.”

“Well, tourist season is kinda starting. Send him a message. But, you know, try to not sound desperate.”

“Ugh. I feel as if I'm in a teenage rom-com.”

She sends her message. Early the next morning, she sees his reply; a plain “Aye, I was busy, sorry for not letting you know,” and compared to his message from before his flight right above that, she can't help wondering.

She didn't have a cell phone as a teenager, and she hadn't allowed herself anything longer than one-night stands after Neal, so it's the first time in her life she has to look at her phone and keep telling herself to not call first.

She takes walks by the sea, seeing the yachts and boats and thinking of Killian. He mentioned how it had been his choice to work on his father's boats, how he loved that job where there's always a view of the sea.

Having practically grown up in Boston, Emma knows well the feelings that endless blue can bring. For Killian, they must be even stronger. The feeling of freedom and calmness and strength at the same time...

She knows he's facing his own issues, he's been open to her about them. His lonely adolescence, his grief, his drinking problem.

She decides to take a walk there every day, to remind herself to give Killian the same space that the sea gives him. Maybe he's out there at the same time, looking at the sea the same way she does.

He manages to call her within a week, though due to his bad connection, they don't share video this time. Or the next. Or the next.

“Remember how I told you I felt I was in a rom-com?” she tells Ruby when they meet one day for coffee. “I hope that at least I'm the protagonist and not the third wheel.”

“What's going on?”

“I worry too much about his calls. We used to talk every day, from five minutes to whole hours on end. And now he's just too busy, or his connection is bad, or his camera isn't working and I'm not seeing his face. But he keeps calling me back, not as often, and not as much, and he doesn't even say as much as he used to, but he's initiating calls on his part. Sometimes he doesn't reply when I call him...” She covers her face with her hands.

Ruby is patiently waiting for more, and Emma isn't sure which more to choose. Killian had trusted her with his history about getting involved with a married woman and she's not ready to betray that just to provide a possible proof that he may be cheating on her.

“We decided to take things slow,” Emma said. “We weren't shy on kisses while he was here, but it didn't go further than that. Do you think he may not consider it cheating, if...”

“If he didn't consider it cheating – if he even is cheating on you – he wouldn't be hiding like that. And taking things slow is different than having an open relationship.”

“I don't know.”

“Emma, if he didn't see it so seriously, would he have come all this way just to spend a week with you? While respecting your wish to not get intimate?”

“He said that's what he wanted as well.”

“So what, is his masculinity so fragile that instead of respecting your wishes, he would fake not being ready for sex? Is he that kind of person?”

Emma is silent.

“You do realize it would take a deep kind of crazy to only want to get laid, then come all this way and agree to not get laid.”

Fair point. “I just wish I knew what it was that tipped him that way. It's... you know, on his last day here, we were talking about our first kisses, and we realized we actually were each other's first kiss.”

“What? You're serious?”

“I know, of all people, right? And I have an inkling he might have been freaked out by that.”

“How did it happen?”

“It was a game of spin the bottle. It was as innocent as it could get at eleven.”

“Did you ask him about it?”

“Yeah. When he was still here, though. I mean, at first he laughed, just as I did, then his face fell, and I asked him if he felt weird about it, and he said no, just that he didn't want to leave. Ugh.” She hangs her head. “That's not a rom-com. That's a soap opera.”

“Maybe he's going through something? Problems with work, family?”

“He hasn't mentioned anything. He said he hasn't talked to his fathers in a while. But, he's shared more serious stuff with me. If something was upsetting him so much... I can't imagine how serious something must be for him to not want to share it with me. And I don't know how much time to give him. Will I sound desperate? Like a stalker? If I take too long, will I seem insensitive?”

“I'm sorry, honey.”

“He's calling me, Ruby. He's not trying to cut off, and he's not trying to appease me either. I'm sure he knows I can hear that he's hiding something. What am I meant to make out from that?”

“Maybe confront him with the fact that you know something is up. Just put it on the table. Say that he doesn't have to explain it to you if it doesn't involve or concern you, just to stop pretending there's no elephant in the room.”

“Sounds simple enough, I guess.” She sighs. “Perhaps it was too early? We've only known each other for seven months.”

“Too early for what? You're not engaged or something. You can work things out.”

Emma nods. “Thank you. Sorry for unloading all that on you.”

“That's what friends are for.” She takes her hands in hers. “I've got lots to talk about, if you want a distraction.”

Emma has had a wonky fortune in her life; she's glad she happened to meet Ruby during one of the good times.

The next day, while she's still growing the courage to confront Killian about acknowledging at least that there's something going on, Ingrid calls her. She's joined by Elsa, who excitedly tells Emma she wants to join Ingrid in her next trip to Boston that summer – they will, of course, stay in a hotel close by so she won't be a bother.

“Maybe we'll go somewhere nice all three of us,” Emma says. “I actually bought a lottery ticket and I have a good feeling about it.”

“Oh, if you have a good feeling about it,” Ingrid says, then turns to Elsa. “You cannot imagine how lucky she was as a teenager.” She then bursts into chatter in Norwegian, and even if Emma could understand more than a few words here and there, she would still be lost in thought.

She was indeed quite lucky as a teen. In fact, the luckiest day of her life, as she'd described it to Killian, had been just the beginning of five great years.

Until her first trip to England, where she met the pirate boy.

Wait...

“Emma?”

She starts, looking back at her camera.

“Sorry, dear, I got carried away,” Ingrid says.

“We will try to use more English when we're there,” Elsa says with an apologetic smile.

“No, it's alright. Ingrid, can you remind me when you actually got your first visa? I mean, in the recent years.”

“Uh, a few days before I contacted you. The first time.”

“Do you remember how many days?”

Ingrid huffs in thought, but turns to her with a smile. “Such sudden curiosity. I'm not sure exactly, three? Four? Less than a week, for sure.”

Too close to the day she kissed that stranger at the club... the only one she didn't see around when the police was asking for witnesses, if they saw who shot that man at the hand and killed his lover.

“Emma?”

Emma takes a deep breath and does her hardest to fake a smile. “Nothing. It's... something about work.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Nothing to worry about. When do you think about visiting?”

After a short chat, Ingrid gets the message and leaves Emma with her thoughts. Emma's hands are shaking; the lottery results will be out in two days and they can't come fast enough.

She runs out, resorting to buying a scratch ticket from a nearby kiosk. She scratches it and stares at it, nearly frozen.

Five dollars.

Emma looks around, looks at the sky, then at her phone. Her weather app clearly shows rain, but there's not a single cloud in the sky.

She is lucky. Things have been going quite well for her. Suddenly so, in fact. Just a month or so ago, she would be getting splashed by cars and losing spare change and...

And then Killian visited her.

She walks slowly back to her apartment, and somehow it doesn't come as a surprise that thunder rumbles outside right as she closes her door.

She sits on her couch, watching the rain pour outside her window.

She had a serving of quite a bad luck the first eleven years of her life. Then she met Killian at that birthday party, they shared an innocent kiss, and that very same evening Ingrid told her she would be adopting her.

Shortly after that Killian's mother died, his father left them, and his brother passed too a few years later.

She stands up, pacing around her living room.

He lived in London at the time. At the exact time she visited for Halloween, that fateful year, that she was left alone and Killian... was adopted? He had mentioned being almost too old to be adopted.

He said it hadn't been him at that party, but he didn't sound convincing, and at the time Emma brushed it off, but... if it really had been him...

Then the night of the shooting at the club. She doesn't remember that stranger's face, but their kiss was too close to him getting shot and Ingrid's visa getting accepted.

A shiver runs down her spine as she remembers the screams of that night. The screams of a man who got shot in the hand... a hand that Killian doesn't have.

Emma's nearly gasping for breath, her hands shaking again as she forces herself to sit back down at the couch.

After that, it was some good years for her, and Killian was lost in his grief, alcohol, and a bad relationship later on.

Then they met at the concert, where right after their kiss, she dropped her phone, cracking its screen.

She looks at it now. The crack is still there, but something tells her getting a new phone screen – or a whole new phone – won't be a problem a few days from now.

She feels a weight set on her shoulders as she goes back to Killian trying to convince her it wasn't him at the Halloween party.

He knows. Somehow, he does, though she doubts he found out much earlier than the moment they realized they were each other's first kiss.

And second.

The weight becomes a sudden void; the pirate boy's look nearly haunted her for years; fifteen years later, she felt a similar sensation at the way Killian looked at her in the concert.

It was the same look, by the same person.

She shakes her head. It's silly. Can it truly be, that they brought good and bad luck to each other, just by kissing?

Then she remembers how he left, when there was no-one in front of him at the queue, to get back to her and give her a last kiss, and didn't come back to join her when his flight was being delayed, because he knew there would be kissing involved if he did.

Tears fill her eyes. He left his luck with her.

And things have been going well for her. How has he been... when both times he got unlucky, people he loved died?

She keeps looking at her phone, wondering if she should call Killian about it, ask him if everything's okay.

Instead, she picks it up and starts looking for the cheapest flight to England she can afford, as soon as possible.

She can't tell Killian; he'll try to stop her, pretend that he's not in Brighton, that he'll be busy...

She finds the envelope with which he'd sent her her Christmas present; she'd kept it in case she'd want to surprise him with a gift back. The return address doesn't include the apartment number, but surprising him in the building entrance will have to do.

She books a flight for three days from now, and of course is not surprised to earn two thousand dollars at the lottery, nor to be promoted to a business class seat thanks to travel miles.

She's grown used to really enjoying flights, but this time she's too nervous to sit back and relax.

He figured out everything before she did. All he had to do was time their kisses right, then leave with his luck on his side. Forever.

But he didn't. He wouldn't. Emma may not know him that long, but she doesn't think he's capable of that. And that's why she's in this plane now.

There's a small part of her that wonders what she's going to do when she comes back. Will Killian actually let her leave without his luck? Will he follow her back? Will they just spend all their money in the effort to be the most selfless one?

She sighs in frustration. That's not something she took into consideration when she agreed to start such a long-distance relationship.

As her luck would have it, everything goes better than smoothly, and courtesy of having slept on her comfortable seat, she doesn't even feel tired from the trip.

It's just starting to get dark when she arrives in Brighton, and she contemplates going straight for her hotel and 'confronting' Killian the next day. But her note with Killian's address on it is right inside her jacket pocket when she gets in the cab, and she can't help herself. The moment she approaches his apartment block, someone happens to exit and smiles to her as he holds the door open for her.

Of course he would. She settles herself and her holdall on the stairs, sends one 'Hey, call me when you see this' to Killian, and waits.

After a couple of hours she starts wondering whether she really is all that lucky, or if it was all in her imagination. The stairs aren't too comfortable and she's slowly getting bored. There's only so much Candy Crush she can handle.

Her eyes look up every single time she sees someone even approach the entrance from outside, and again, everyone who enters or exits simply smiles at her and goes on their way.

She's about ready to give up and head for her hotel when he finally appears. He's looking down, his visibly longer hair falling in front of his face as he takes a bit too long to open the door. She contemplates going to open it herself, but he makes it and starts for the stairs, stopping at the first step and looking up slowly.

His slow reflexes, his slightly staggering step, his tired, sad face...

He was out drinking.

Coming like this was a horrible idea.

“Killian...” she says, making sure her voice sounds worried and not judgmental.

He just stares at her, looking confused and very tired.

“I know this looks weird,” she says. “I've had some time to think and... I'm not stalking you.”

“Wha-” he starts. “How...”

“I'm sorry.” She toys with her hands nervously. “I should have let you know earlier. It was...” Not just impulsive. “Very impulsive. But I would've come soon anyway.”

“How did you know where...” His voice trails off, but she gets the point.

“The gift you sent me for Christmas. The package had your address on it.”

He blinks slowly, and she's not sure he's registering everything she's saying. “Come upstairs,” he says eventually, starting to walk up the steps.

“Wait, really?” She stands up and grabs her bag. “I've booked a hotel-”

“You can take the bed,” he interrupts her. “It's got clean sheets.”

“Killian-”

He gives her a stern look that shuts her up. He's clearly not in the mood for more than just getting to a bed. “Just come.”

She smells the alcohol off of him when he steps closer to her and she wonders whether she should comment on it. Maybe she can ask, somehow, there must have been something that pushed him over.

His apartment looks tidy and smells clean. He sets himself down on the couch, taking off his brace and shoes.

“Is something wrong?” Emma says. “You're...” She pauses. How can she say it?

“Relapsing,” he says plainly. “Why is everyone avoiding that word?”

“Are you okay?”

He shrugs. “Not much to say. I'm tired.”

So hopefully, nothing horrible happened to him or his family.

“I'm sorry,” Emma says again. “I should have let you know I'm coming. I... I'd thought I could surprise you...” What else can she say to excuse such a sudden visit?

Killian lets out a cold, soulless laugh. “Lucky me,” he says, then lies down, eyes closing and breath quickly getting deeper.

His words pull at her heart, confirming that he knows of their mingled fates. She approaches him, kneeling down next to him and touching his hair. It's only been a month and she's already missed feeling how soft his hair is. How she'd love to keep brushing her fingers through it, and not just tonight.

A soft snore comes from him, and she leans forward to leave a kiss on his forehead.

#Emma Swan #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs ff #ouat ff #akfgl #captain swan movie marathon #piracytheorist writes

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act-addict-actors-matchups · 4 years

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@ne-nene-ne said,

[1/2] Hi~ May I pls have a matchup? I'm a ♏, ISFP, 5'0 fem w/ medium length dark hair & eyes. I like wearing sweaters/sweatpants a lot! I love to draw & sing especially! I'd sing softly to my s/o if we're close & alone together. I often take endless pics of the sunset bc it's so pretty! Tbh I'm a loner. I'm shy, quiet, awkward and I like my alone time. I'm friendly and good-willing towards others nonetheless! I've been told I have a positive aura. I'm more chill, silly & playful w/ family!

[2/2] I can joke around w/ them! I have a short temper but I forgive just as quickly. I can be hard on myself bc I feel it's necessary to improve. I'm an appreciative person so I'll say "thank you" like 1000 times lol! I highly value family & honesty! My ideal s/o is someone family-oriented, devoted, and genuine. Bonus points if they're funny too! I'd like someone who I can slowdance to soft, jazz music w/. My love language is Acts of Service! Tysm! Take your time, stay healthy & stay safe! ❤

✧ Thank you so much for requesting a matchup love. Tumblr is not letting me tag you so hopefully you’ll see this. 😔 I wish you well during this challenging time. Hope you keep safe as well! 😷

I’d match you with: . . .

➜ HOW YOU TWO FIRST MET ; Juza Hyodo is that typical cold guy in school that everyone is lowkey scared of. That’s how he seems from outside anyway. You were asked by your biology teacher to borrow the books for the class’s current lesson from the library on the spot so you took a beeline for the shelves as fast as you could. But for god’s sake all the books were placed at the topmost part of the science shelves. You stood there for a good minute while glaring at the books overhead. You knew you were damned for good since there were no chairs nearby that were available and the librarian was nowhere to be seen. You stomped you feet in annoyance until you felt a looming presence behind you. A tall one. When you turned around, you saw Juza grabbing the books at ease and handing it to you. You thanked him quietly which surprised him because you actually didn’t quiver with fear or panic in his presence??? and you genuinely thanked him?? It was not usual for him to hear someone express their gratitude towards him. Even the cashiers from sweet shops he’d like to visit secretly we’re scared of him for heaven’s sake. After murmuring a little “‘S nothing.” he walked away. And that was the end of it. Or so you thought. The second time you met the purple haired boy was in a cafe. You were patiently waiting in the line for this so called Peanut Butter Pound Cake S'mores. According to your friends, it was one of the best desserts the cafe ever had. To test that theory, you decided to check the dessert yourself. Everything was perfectly normal until a young teenage boy of average height with fluffy pink hair and light blue eyes bumped into you, spilling a little of his drink on you. Yes, I’m talking about Muku. Baby boy was so scared and flustered, he apologized to you multiple times like crazy. Luckily it wasn’t anything hot so you didn’t burn yourself. Giving the boy a soft smile, you said it was fine and he shouldn’t worry about it. But he is a kind-hearted and modest boy with the motto "doing one good deed each day" so of course he offered you to give some of the Chocolate-Caramel Sandwich Cookies he had ordered before to apologize properly. Normally you would’ve reject the offer but with the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t find the heart to do so. While waiting for your order together, you learned what the boy’s name was and that he came here with his cousin. When you heard that the first image that popped into your mind was a soft looking person just like him you. After you got your order, the two of you made your way towards their table. And with that, your previous thought was thrown out of the window just like that. There he was, one and only Juza Hyodo, the person who helped you in the library, was sitting in a chair, quietly munching on one of the many sweets in front of him. When Muku announced that he was back, his eyes shot up to him and then shifted towards you. Yeah, it was awkward. Nevertheless, you tried to offer the tall boy a smile, which he just nodded his head, cheeks tilted pink to get his sweet tooth exposed to someone from school. After you sat down, Muku began to explain how he accidentally bumped into you and spilled some of his drink on you. Juza got the picture and said nothing. Though, gradually he started to become more comfortable. Before you knew it, you befriend the young teenage boy with fluffy hair. You told Muku how you two first met, which he only exclaimed how cool his cousin was and how the scene was just like from a shoujo manga. So yeah, your friendship with Juza started that day and slowly but steadily developed into something more. You would see him at school and chat with him, give him snacks to eat together on the rooftop etc.

➜ PERSONALITY COMPATIBILITY ; Let me just start of by saying that you two are really similar in terms of personality. A loner who is shy, quiet, awkward, likes alone time yet still friendly and good-willing towards others? Yeah, you get to point. When you're dating someone who has almost identical personality traits as you, reading them becomes easier. Juza is honest and critical of himself but is more than willing to work hard on it to improve himself and so are you. You two motive each other become better versions of yourselves, constantly pushing forward hand in hand ad I think that’s a beautiful thing in a relationship. You two have the same values. He deeply values his comrades and family so he would love it whenever he saw you getting along with Muku or Kumon. He’s very protective of those he holds dear, so watching you interact with them and care for them as if they were your own family would make him fall for you even more. The same goes for him as well. He’ d try his utmost best to get along with your family. Physical affection is OUT the window in the first start of your guys' relationship though. And when you guys DO start attempting physical contact, he'd be so stiff. Baby boy really hasn’t had a lot of experience in regards to how to treat others with affection outside of his family. 🥺 but deep down, Juza has a soft side. He’s a bit shy with showing his affections, but he tries his utmost best to convey his love to you― one of them being if you ever needed him support with ANYTHING honestly, he’ll always make it known to you that you have his full support and that he’s always right beside you through everything.

➜ SHARED ACTIVITIES ; With an delinquent-like appearance that often gives people a "scary" impression of him, I feel like Juza would rather spend time inside rather than outside. For those with a serious sweet tooth, baking, especially with a lover has a double benefit: It engages the two of you in an activity you probably don't do often, and you get to enjoy something delicious afterward. You two make an especially decadent dessert when you're feeling ambitious, or simply break out a boxed mix if you're short on time — or baking skills. At first times, there is a lot of trial and error and you guys end up getting covered in flour and such, a cheeky smile present on your face. These are usually the times where you get to hear Juza’s rare laughs as he joined in your joy. Feeling too lazy to bake something? Have a candy tasting. Satisfying your sweet tooth is a foolproof way to survive. Stock up on different colors of Starbursts, Gummi Bears or Worms, Sour Straws, Hi-Chews, and whatever else you are craving— and then eat your way through the rainbow together. Bonus points if you’re lounging off your sugar coma with a movie on the couch afterwards, he doesn’t particularly mind what kind so it’s totally up to you which genre you want to watch. This one is technically not a date but sometimes you, Juza, Muku and Kumon play board games. Depending on how competitive you are, this idea can be a little dangerous. (looking at you monopoly.) But it’s always a blast to spend time with people you love and cherish.

➜ ZODIAC COMPATIBILITY ; Juza’s birthday is on September 27, which makes him a Libra. When Libra and Scorpio come together in a love match, they tend to make a very emotionally connected and mutually satisfying union. Though Scorpio is a brooder who can get lost in the confusing welter of their own emotions, Libra’s proclivity for balance and harmony helps keep Scorpio even. Scorpio can return the favor to Libra with their characteristic powers of focus, a trait that Libra usually lacks. These two are very compatible due to their similar needs in a love relationship: Libra is the Sign of Partnership, and Libra is happiest when in a well-balanced and intimate relationship, while Scorpio thrives on emotional and sexual intimacy with their mate. These two Signs can make a very loyal, close and satisfying partnership. What’s the best aspect of the Libra-Scorpio relationship? The power they find in unity. They can accomplish a lot, whether they come together for a cause in the business or romantic sphere. They are both winners and they won’t give up, making theirs a relationship that takes care of business.

#act! addict! actors!#a3! matchup #juza hyodo

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remromfantasies · 4 years

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The Five Times Remus Felt Unloved And The One Time He Was Reminded - RemRom fic!

Summary: Remus is upset that his crush doesn’t like him back, but maybe he can still be happy about what they already have.

Warnings: Depression, one-way feelings, self-doubt, ooh honey the angst, but! It is hurt/comfort... I think.... 🤔

Words: 1.3k

Remus sat beside Roman for lunch. They were supposed to be working on their homework, but Roman had gotten preoccupied with their other friends.

Patton and Virgil had leaned over his computer screen to see what he was doing. Roman smiled and bounced in his seat as he boasted about his online boyfriend. The two of them had met months ago and about half of that was when they got together.

Yes, Roman was very aware of Remus’ emotional feelings towards him, yet it seemed as if he either forgot entirely or that he just didn’t care. Roman had offered to try it, but felt uncomfortable the whole time, therefore breaking up within a matter of weeks. Remus acknowledged the burning in his chest, but didn’t dwell on it. He knew it was pointless and that he was lucky to have even gotten as far as they had. He stared at his papers, but couldn’t read the words. He barely saw how far away they were.

“OH MY GOSH, you guys have to see him! He is the hottest person ever!!” Roman boasted, scrolling through their messaging. Remus’ heart rate stopped momentarily. How he wished he could drown it out and forget what they were talking about. Although, Remus couldn’t help but look at the picture on screen.

Remy was a good looking man. His eyes sparkled, his smile shone, and he had freckles, which was always a bonus to Roman. He was everything Remus felt he wasn’t. His eyes were bland, his smile was stupid, and he didn’t have freckles. He was also the one person parents would warn their children about: he was creepy and made crude jokes and he didn’t wear deodorant.

Maybe if he had told Roman just a little more often that he loved him, things could be different. But instead, Remus was selfish and was now forced to sit here and stare at what he could never be, and what he could never have.

“And look! He called me his ‘hummingbird’!!”

———

“Hey, Remus?” Roman asked, leaning towards his brother. Remus took his eyes off his work and faced him. “Are you staying home tonight? We’re having pizza!” Remus, always willing to jump at an opportunity to spend time with Roman, was quick to agree. Virgil might call him clingy, but the relationship that he has with Logan is even worse than his own. He couldn’t complain.

The two walked back to their house after school, engaging in plenty of conversation. Not once did they fail to bring up an interesting topic. Remus, even though he so badly wanted to reach out and hold tight to his crush, smiled and spoke, embracing everything in that moment that he could.

Although, as they came up to their place, of course things would change.

“Oh! Remy sent me an idea for one of his projects. It was really good! My poor boy, though, he’s so self-conscious: you’d never expect it from such a play-it-cool kinda guy! He was really nervous about it, even with me.” Remus clenched his jaw, but refused to look upset. Had Roman maybe paid closer attention to him, he’d notice that he was even more self-conscious than this dude, and no, he didn’t really show it either, but sometimes it just slips out! He had always wanted to tell Roman about things he had created. But first it was Roman who had outshone him. And now, it’s Remy.

Apparently, Remy is always creating. He makes a different variety of content and posts it all over the internet. What does he have to be so self-conscious about? He’s practically famous!

He knew that Roman at least somewhat appreciated his jokes. Roman loved to laugh, even if it was just to appease someone, he’d be happy to venture on the edge. But something told him that Roman didn’t really want to and that he liked doing other things more, like learning or crafting. The last thing he’d want to do would be to bring him down.

No one wants a sad Roman.

So, Remus powered through. He listened to Roman ramble about his feelings for his boyfriend, put in constructive input where needed and paid close enough attention to understand just how much they seemed to love each other. Any time he felt overwhelmed during his stay, he would claim to use the washroom and take the time to help recover.

———

Remus came up to where Roman was waiting on their usual bench. He was sitting on his phone, scrolling. Remus took a glance to see what had caught his interest, only to notice the bombardment of hearts beneath the name “Remy Sanders”. His heart throbbed as he took a seat.

“Hey, Remus!” Roman greeted. “You’ll never guess what Remy sent me!”

•

Remus felt movement on his right and glanced at Roman. They were midway through the class and halfway done their work. Roman pulled his phone from his pocket. Remus watched, expecting him to check the time, yet he continued to roam through his apps. Once he found his messaging, he opened it and clicked on the first name to pop up. It said, of course, “Remy Sanders” with three hearts on either side of his name. Patton stared at the screen for a second before pocketing his phone again.

Did he really go to their chat just to see his name or something? What was the point? He’d feel a vibration if he had a message and he’s already read the other ones written. Did he miss Remy that much already..?

•

Roman was scrolling through tumblr, showing Remus a bunch of cute pictures on his dash. He scrolled past them rather quickly, having seen them all before, and said things simply, like ‘oh, look at this one”, “this ones so funny”, “oh, I nearly forgot about this one”. Remus smiled along as Roman showed him the things he adored.

However, that same ache in his chest pounded at his ribs as the next one was one from Remy.

“Oh! Look, this is Remy’s!” No, duh. “He reblogged this last night. Look at the sweet messages he left! Isn’t he such an angel??” Remus agreed, nodding and humming contentment. His expression collapsed the moment Roman turned away and Remus worked to decide if he was angry or depressed.

———

Remus sat silently, scrolling through Tinder on his phone. Roman was talking with their friends about random things, things he could care less about. It was when a heavy weight plopped itself down onto his knees that Remus startled, his eyes shooting away from his screen.

“Reeeeemuuuuus,” Roman whined, sprawling out. Logan Remus and shut off his device, looking down smugly at his crush.

“Yes, Roman?”

“Hi.” Remus let out a scoff. He was almost as goofy as Patton sometimes.

“Can I help you with something?” Roman smiled a toothy grin and rolled onto his tummy, his side pressing against Remus’ stomach.

“Nope! Just saying ‘hi’.” Remus smiled a little wider and gently rested his hands on Roman’s back. He relaxed at the simple touch and stared down longingly at Roman. Times like these were what he lived for. Even though Roman did it because he was a touchy-feely kind of person, it still made Remus’ heart beat faster.

Roman remained across his legs for the remainder of their time, scrolling through his messages with Remy. Remus almost didn’t care. Sure, every other time made him feel entirely worthless and pointless to this man's life, but when Roman showed that he didn’t forget about him, he couldn’t help but feel that it was still, somehow, enough. He’d take anything he could get without crossing boundaries.

However, he’d never tell Roman that. Roman was so, so happy with Remy and if Remus was to ruin that even the slightest — whether that be showing his vulnerability to the situation, proving his true feelings instead of pushing them so far down, or just admitting that he was a little jealous, Remus would never, ever forgive himself. For no matter what Roman chose in his life, he’d give everything he had and more to keep him happy. He’ll do what it takes. Roman taught him that.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #remrom #remrom mention #my fic #my writing #might reblog in the morning #might delete it too tho #we shall see #my good bitch #:)

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kodzukuroken · 4 years

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Seasons change, but people... Do too I guess.| Prologue

Summary: You and Tsukishima had been friends for years but upon the arrival of a very special invitation, your relationship takes a sudden change. Will your long-harbored crush for your best friend finally come into the light? Or will your relationship be altered for good?

Aka, Reader is an artist who is in love with Tsukki, there's angst, there are laughs, there are three established captain relationships! What could a person want?

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei x Reader (Kuroo Tetsuro x Kenma Kozume, Bokuto Koutarou x Akaashi Keiji, Daichi Sawamura x Sugawara Koshi)

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing, Eventual Smut

Read On AO3 | This will update before Tumblr

Hey guys! I’ve recently started writing fanfiction again so I created this blog basically just to have another place to store it besides AO3! I really love writing this story, there are currently 5 chapters out on AO3, so if you’d like to read past chapter 1 thats where you can find it! Enjoy!

You’d known Tsukishima Kei for about as long as you’d been someone worth knowing. Growing up, you were a lonely kid, not really knowing how to make friends since you were so withdrawn. You spent most of your time in elementary school colouring, or making something out of nothing just to pass the time until you could go home and draw in your bedroom. It wasn’t until high school that you broke out of this loner routine of yours. When your parents first brought up the prospect of moving halfway across the country before starting high school, you were hesitant, but then you started to see the potential for a new start. You’d be at a brand new school, without anyone from elementary or middle school that had a preconceived notion of who you were. It was the truest opportunity to become the person you’d always wanted to be, you’d had it in you, you’d just needed the chance.

It was here, at Nekoma Highschool that you’d met Kuroo Tetsurõ and his best friend Kenma Kozume. From the moment that you and Kuroo met he had taken you under his wing, walking you to your first class after you’d been standing in the middle of the hallway with a confused look on your face. Kenma had trailed behind him, phone in one hand and the other in his pocket the whole time, without a word. From that day on, you’d eaten lunch with Kuroo and Kenma every day until Kuroo graduated and even after that, you and Kenma continued to eat lunch together every day silently until he graduated too. Eventually, you were eating lunch alone again. However, you were not wholly alone, you did have the odd few lunchtime texts to keep you company mainly from one tall, blonde Karasuno student that you’d met back in your first year at Nekoma.

The first time you and Tsukishima met wasn’t exactly friendly. You’d been dragged to a party by Kuroo for the end of the volleyball season.

“Since Kenma won’t come, and I can’t arrive alone” supposedly, but you figured it was more so because Kuroo knew you needed to start making friends outside of the two of them. You didn’t disagree with this, but you just wished he wouldn’t insult your intelligence by making up another excuse for it. You’d gone along, reluctantly, and had very quickly been left alone by Kuroo in the kitchen when he spotted Bokuto from across the room. He’d patted your shoulder lightly and said “I’m gonna go say hey to Bo (y/n), just hang out, talk to some people”. You’d known what he was doing, he was trying to throw you in the deep end. You loved Kuroo but sometimes his methods to get you to be a little more outgoing were less than orthodox.

“I’ve got to try and force one of you to be social,” he’d said to you one day at lunch “I’m not exactly gonna get Pudding Head here to do it”. He gestured a thumb towards Kenma who just barely looked from his phone to shake his head slightly. So that was it, for the next year of him being in school with you at least, you had become Kuroo’s project. It was sweet in a way, that he wanted to make sure that you had friends that could keep you company when he and Kenma would eventually have to leave but you don’t think he’d ever had Tsukishima in mind when he thought about you attaching yourself to any of his friends. But nevertheless, when you strolled awkwardly into the kitchen that fateful day, Tsukishima was the first person you made eye contact with.

You can remember it like it was yesterday, he was leaning up against the counter, a red cup in hand scanning the party through the door with a completely indifferent look on his face. When his eyes landed on you, he could not have looked less interested in engaging you socially in any way but despite the completely uninviting look, you swallowed hard and walked over to him slowly.

“Hi,” your voice was light and a little anxious, but he didn’t seem to notice. In fact, he barely noticed anything about you, he just looked straight through you. There was nothing particularly malicious about his gaze, it was just one of complete disinterest in your existence. You had begun to wonder whether you should introduce yourself when Kuroo and Bokuto came laughing into the room.

“(y/n)!” Bokuto exclaimed loudly, you smiled, glad to be in the presence of someone a little friendlier.

“Hey, Bo! It’s good to see you again,” you said a little louder than the greeting you’d given Tsukishima and stretched your arms out letting him hug you, taking your whole body in his giant form. You’d only met Bokuto a handful of times when he’d accompanied you and Kuroo to hang out when Kenma wasn’t feeling it, but he’d always been very kind to you. You figured that that was just the type of person that Bokuto was, the type to become best friends with everyone instantly. You wished you could be like that.

“I see you’ve met Tsukki!” Kuroo smiled gesturing to the blonde in front of you.

“Uh yeah, kinda I’m (y/n) by the way” you started to stick your hand out but Tsukishima just looked at it like it was some kind of dead animal so you let it fall back to your side.

“Oh come on Tsukki! Be nice!” Bokuto exclaimed, slapping him on the back which caused Tsukishima’s lip to curl a little. Just then, you heard someone call Bokuto and Kuroo from the back yard, where it seemed most of the party was taking place. They both began to follow the source of the voice before Bokuto turned around again and walked backward and pointed at Tsukishima. “Be nice!” he called again this time Tskukishima rolled his eyes, looked you up and down, and finally talked.

“C’mon, let's get you a drink so you don't look so awkward”. You’d followed Tsukishima to the other end of the kitchen to where the drinks were, you waited silently while Tsukishima poured something fruity-looking into a cup and thrust it towards you. You took it and inhaled it a little, an unmistakable scent had hit your nose.

“Alcohol?” you asked him, instantly regretting how innocent you sounded. He’d looked at your eyebrows raised with the tiniest curve in his lips that you would have missed if you weren't fast enough.

“That’s kind of what makes it a party,” Tsukishima said, placing his own cup to his lips and taking a swig. You followed suit. The liquid tasted like candy but burned your chest as it went down.

“It’s good,” you smiled, trying to be friendly.

“It’s sugar and alcohol,” he replied in a deadpan tone “those things tend to mix pretty well”. You nodded in agreement. You both stood in silence for a few minutes, listening to the faded music that was coming from the living room before he spoke again.

“So what are you anyway?” You looked up from where you’d been staring at your shoes and met his gaze.

“Sorry?” he rolled his eyes and leaned in so his mouth was close to your ear.

“So what are you? Nekoma’s manager or something?” his voice was low and it sent a small shiver down your spine.

“Uh no,” you replied, “I’m just friends with Tetsurõ, we go to school together”. He didn’t make any attempt to reply for a while, but eventually he looked like he had gotten bored of watching his teammates dance around in the living room and turned his attention back to you.

“So what do you do?” he asked, you were a little confused by the question.

“What do you mean?” you replied, trying to make sense of the character in front of you. He began to look annoyed again. Man this guy didn’t have any patience you’d thought.

“Well, I play volleyball. Middle block and most of the people here do that too.” he looked out over the crowd in the living room again, a small guy with black and blonde hair was downing some kind of beverage and everyone was cheering him along. Then he turned his gaze to you and asked again.

“So what do you do?”. You paused for a moment, you’d never been asked something so existential before, especially not by a complete stranger, but the answer seemed like a pretty obvious one nonetheless.

“I make art,” you said, meeting his golden eyes again. For the first time that night, he didn’t seem annoyed by your presence. He seemed, dare you say, interested in you. He raised an eyebrow at you,

“Are you any good?”

After that, the two of you spend the rest of the night chatting, or as much as could be considered chatting when it came to talking with Tsukishima. There were multiple times when you’d spend minutes on end in silence, but neither of you seemed to mind and at the end of the night when Kuroo came looking for you he seemed surprised you’d managed to put up with Tsukishima for the entire night.

“I can barely put up with him for a few hours of practicing, you spent an entire party with the guy!” he laughed and shook his head as you walked home together under the inky summer sky.

The next time you hung out with Tsukishima was at Kuroo’s place. He’d invited a bunch of people over on a long weekend for a movie marathon, it was one of the few events that Kenma had agreed to attend since it didn’t really require him to socialize at all. He could just sit, knees hugged to his chest leaning against Kuroo as you all watched countless movies in the dark together. About halfway through the night, you’d gotten up to go to get a drink in the kitchen when you’d heard someone walk in behind you. You turned and saw Tsukishima looking more annoyed than usual. In his hand he was holding his glasses, one of the arms had broken off from its hinge. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and muttered a small “Dammit” under his breath.

“What happened?” you asked as though you weren’t already aware of his presence. Apparently he actually wasn’t aware of yours either as he looked up a little startled before relaxing back into an annoyed face.

“They just broke in two, I didn’t even do anything.” You put down your drink and walked over to where he was standing before reaching out your hand.

“May I?” you asked, he nodded and handed the glasses to you. Look studied them for a moment before nodding and adding a “Yup!”.

“Yup? What does that mean?” he asked, arms folded still just as frustrated as before.

“I can rig these until you’re able to get home to fix them for real, or get new ones”.

“Really?” there was a genuine interest in his voice now and you rolled your eyes at the boy's distrust in your abilities. You walked back towards the living room and popped your head around the door.

“Hey Tetsuro, I’m gonna go back to my place for a sec. Tsukki’s glasses broke and I’m gonna fix them for him til’ he can replace them.” Kuroo didn’t reply, he just gave you a thumbs up with the hand that was now wrapped around Kenma’s shoulder. You shook your head and wondered when those two would ever actually act on their feelings.

“Wait!” Tsukishima called from behind you and followed you out into the hallway where you were heading to the door. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, my house is like a minute away. I don’t have the supplies here to fix these, Tetsurõ is unsurprisingly not very crafty” you replied. Tsukishima shook his head and furrowed his brow.

“No way, I barely know you. I’m not trusting you with my property.”

“I’m not going to steal your glasses Tsukki, calm down,” you said rolling your eyes.

“It’s Tsukishima,” he replied, “and I’m coming with you”.

“Fine, let's go asshole” his lips curved slightly at that. “We’ll be back!” You called.

“Kay!” Kuroo replied.

“Bye Tsukki-poo!” Bokuto yelled which made you giggle and made Tsukishima scoff as you walked out the door.

You’d walked to your place in virtual silence, you’d offered to guide Tsukishima with your hand on his arm since he wasn’t wearing his glasses but he’d just said

“I’m not wearing my glasses, I’m not completely blind” which you’d taken as a no. When you got to your house, you unlocked the door and were greeted by the emptiness, your parents were out of town often, one of the reasons you’d always enjoyed hanging out at Kuroo’s place, there was always more company there. You headed up the stairs to your room and Tsukishima followed you, when you got to your room you headed straight to your desk and flipped on the small desk lamp. You looked at Tsukishima’s glasses with more intensity now, he stood behind you silently for a moment, before asking.

“Well, can you fix it?”

“Hand me that box” you waved your hand behind you at the small plastic box that was on the ground, propping up a pile of canvases, each with its own discarded painting on it that you’d abandoned for a myriad of reasons with every intention of getting back to. Tsukishima picked up the box and handed it to you letting the canvases clatter to the ground.

“You should really clean up here, having a messy workspace is counter-productive,” he said, looking around your room, which was littered with empty spray paint cans, old paint water jars and discarded sketchbook pages.

“Hey I don’t come to your gym and start criticizing the way you bounce the ball around,” you say, fully immersed in rooting around in the box he’d handed you.

“That’s basketball, there’s not really much bouncing in volleyball. I’m surprised you don’t know that being around Kuroo all the time” he replies, tone flat.

“Not much of a sports person, so he doesn’t even try with me anymore” you’re applying a small amount of clear glue to the arm of his glasses now and line it up with the rest of the glasses and hold it there for a few seconds while the glue dries. Tsukishima stands behind you silently, watching how your face stares intently at the project in your hands, he wondered how someone could be so entrenched in gluing two pieces of metal together. After a few moments of silence, you jump up from your desk chair.

“That should do it!” you say turning and place the glasses on Tsukishima’s face. He tenses at the sudden contact but relaxes when he realizes what you’re doing. He blinked for a minute as his eyes adjusted to his glasses but once he realized they weren't going to fall off again he pressed his lips together and looked at you.

“They’re pretty ok, I guess” you chuckle a little, amused by the lengths this guy would go to not to be nice to you.

“You’re welcome Tsukki-poo ” he shoots you daggers.

“ Don’t call me that” he replies, and hold up your hands in defense.

“Okay fine, then what should I call you?” you ask.

“My name is Tsukishima, that's when everyone calls me”

“But that's no fun! I want my own name for you!” You wiggle your eyebrows a little, and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine… my first name is Kei” you smile brightly, you hadn’t expected him to comply so easily but you figured it was his way of repaying you for your help.

“Well then, you’re very welcome Kei ” you giggle a little after saying it and he sighs.

“God I’m regretting this already”.

From that moment on you and Kei had become closer than you’d ever been with anyone before. In your final year of high school you would spend your lunch hours sketching Nekoma’s buildings and texting Kei, which wasn’t exactly what Kuroo had intended when he’d wanted you to make friends but he was happy with whatever worked for you. Eventually, when you both went to university it just kind of worked out that you both went to the same school. Albeit Kei was a business major, who lived on the fancy side of campus taking financial classes and classes that required a lot of studying. While you were an art major, living on the older side of campus spending your time painting and attending classes on impressionism. You still spent most of your time together though.

You would sit in Kei’s dorm, perched on the sill of his window sketching the old campus buildings while he studied fiscal years or whatever you really didn’t have much of a clue what he was really doing, but it worked. And when you both moved to the city after you graduated, it was pure coincidence that you would start working at a gallery that was just a few streets from his new big fancy corporate internship. You’d even be lucky enough to get a workspace above the gallery for a reduced price because of your employment there, and Kei and your apartments just happened to be within walking distance of each other.

Looking back, if you were a more spiritual person you would have thought that the universe was trying to push you together at any opportunity it got, like it was giving you a sign that the two of you should be more than just friends. But after almost seven and a half years of friendship, nothing had ever moved past just that with the two of you. Sure, it was a very intimate friendship, but it never went beyond that. You’d spent countless nights tossing and turning, thinking about what could be between you two, but you always came to the same conclusion. You didn’t want to hurt your friendship. So you’d left it at that, you were happy with your and Kei’s friendship. Of course part of you would always want more but you decided that it wasn’t even worth considering since he had made no attempt to express that he felt the same.

That was until one day when you got a rather official-looking envelope in the mail.

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cultureaddictconfessions · 4 years

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Don’t Get Caught - A Cubicles sequel - CYO Adventure + Marauders Workplace AU

re-read Cubicles here

After your enchanting evening at James’ after-work soiree, you're feeling nervous to interact with your office crush, with whom you shared a special moment. They’ve made it clear that there’s a spark, but navigating an office romance can be tricky if you don’t want your co-workers to know the situation. With that in mind, you must find sneaky ways to fan the flames of your delicious dalliance. Will you steal another moment with your sweetheart or be found out?

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As always, Y/N=first name, Y/L/N=last name. When you get to the end, click one of the titles to get your chosen ending! You can also be added to the tag list for this series (I’ll probably write more sequels, as this is a personal favorite of mine and I got ideas!) This is my present to my Tumblr fam, hope you have a wonderful holiday and see ya in 2020! <3 Bri

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The weekend was fairly uneventful. You spent Lazy Saturday with Lily, as always, before the pair of you joined the other office girls for drinks at a hip rooftop bar. Sunday was spent in a lull of running errands and dreading Monday and all that it might bring. You hadn’t mentioned anything to Lily about your party rendezvous for fear of her reaction. You didn’t know how many people bore witness to what happened, but if you could keep it under wraps, you would feel much better. It was tough enough dealing with Rita and the stresses of the workplace, let alone trying to integrate a blossoming crush on one of your co-workers who you would have to see almost every day. You groaned, curled up in your favorite lounge chair in the reading nook you set up in your apartment.

You had flirty conversations with more than one person on Friday when you thought about it. You just happened to have sparked feelings with one of them. You weren’t the type to kiss and tell, so what did you have to be worried about anyway? Still, you couldn’t help blushing fondly over the memory of that night. It was cliche to call it “magical”, but that was exactly what it felt like. You sank deeper into the chair and tried to focus on the book you were reading, before spending the rest of the evening failing to eat and agonizing over what you would wear the next day. Once settled, you spread on a face mask and turned on your favorite show on Witchflix to distract yourself. You crashed halfway through the episode.

You’d woken up in the middle of the night, tossing and turning anxiously. You got up a little earlier than usual and decided to go pick up coffee for you, Lily, and Rita in an effort to feel productive. The Potion Truck was your favorite little cafe and food truck near the office. You swept in, rattled off the orders without a second thought, then went to wait for them a few feet away. You spotted Emmeline Vance standing nearby, scrolling through her phone with a bored expression. Her shiny black hair was slicked back into a low ponytail, draping over her shoulder. She was clad in a classic trench coat, and her tortoiseshell sunglasses were perched on her head; always the picture of style. You strode over, managing a small smile as you tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up.

“Hi Y/N, fancy seeing you here! Can’t believe it’s Monday again already. What a weekend! Sorry I didn’t come out for drinks on Saturday; I had rehearsal that ran way too late and I went straight home to sleep.” She chuckled, pocketing her phone. Emmeline happened to be a talented hip-hop dancer. You had gone to one of her recitals, and you’d been debating attending one of her classes just to see how much fun she was having. You nodded in commiseration, wishing you were back in bed. The barista called Emmeline’s name, so you were left to yourself for a moment. You wondered guiltily whether she’d seen you at the office party.

“That sounds very busy indeed. You have to let me know when your next show is. Emm, I just realized… I don’t remember seeing you at the party on Friday!” You mumbled, fishing for information. She made a bemused expression. Uh oh.

“Well, I saw you making your rounds, Miss Popular! Did you have too much of the spiked punch? I guess we didn’t get to chat, so I can see why you might’ve thought I wasn’t there. I was rather preoccupied myself if you catch my drift.” She gave you a saucy wink, making the color drain out of your face. Maybe she had caught you and a certain someone getting hot and heavy. You didn’t have time to ask because the barista finally called your name. You scurried up to grab the drinks, and as soon as you returned, Emmeline motioned for you to follow her to the office. Your stomach was turning as the two of you walked, with Emmeline chatting amiably about the details of the party, not revealing anything helpful. You made a mental note to shoot her a text message later to find out real gossip.

You passed Alastor at the desk with a soft greeting before arriving at the elevator. Emmeline worked on the floor below you in operations. Not only was she a talented dancer, but she was a clever controller as well. Before the elevator could close, you were joined by the Prewett twins and Peter Pettigrew. Emmeline tensed up slightly beside you, only to the degree that you would notice. You gave her a curious look, but she gave you a sidelong glance and shook her head.

“Morning ladies! Looking lovely as ever!” The twins chimed together. You smiled, and Emmeline gave a curt nod.

“Hi Y/N, hi Emmeline! The brothers and I were just talking about that new baking show everyone’s been raving about! I watched 4 episodes on Sunday afternoon, not even going to lie.” Peter bubbled with laughter as he addressed the two of you. He looked so adorable when he talked about his passions.

“You should audition, Pete! I bet you could show them a thing or two…” Emmeline grinned, winking at him. He flushed at her compliment. You nodded in encouragement, but you couldn’t help but feel a little caught off guard by the easygoing banter Emmeline and Peter displayed. She was a total Cool Girl™, and he was the office dormouse. Since when had they become so friendly? You turned your attention to Gideon and Fabian. They certainly stood out from the crowd, tall and well-built, with shocks of red hair. As you recalled, they happened to be rather athletic and were part of a club outside of work which some of the other office members frequented… though obviously not as devoutly, based on the brothers’ chiseled physiques. You engaged them in light conversation before they and Emmeline stepped off on their floor, leaving you alone with Peter.

“You looked really lovely on Friday, Y/N. I don’t think I got to tell you that.” He smiled softly, hands twisting in front of him. You blushed your attention fully on him. Peter rarely voiced his opinions, much less made such a confident declaration. It was a nice change of character if you were honest.

“You’re a sweetheart for saying so, Pete, thank you. I had a lot of fun! I think I had a little too much to drink by the end if you’ll forgive me. Feels like a dream…” You sighed, a grin slipping across your lips as you laughed. He laughed along with you, looking at you with appreciation. He seemed as though he were about to say something when the elevator opened. Noticing Rita standing in her office on the phone and looking angry, you were forced to bid the young man goodbye. You didn’t notice him staring after you as you walked swiftly to the time clock.

Lily was already at her desk, so you placed the coffee in front of her with a pat on the head. She swiveled around in her chair and grinned brightly up at you.

“How did you have time to go and get me coffee, Y/N? Couldn’t sleep?”

“How are you so early today, Lils?” You countered, to which she stuck out her tongue. She picked up the drink and sipped thoughtfully, a grateful expression melting her. You were glad you could return your best friend’s favor since she was always the one who went for early-morning drink runs. Rita didn’t come out of her office, so you wrapped up her coffee, sat down and began going through your emails and voicemail. You were completely caught off guard when James Potter came over and leaned on the partition between yours and Lily’s cubicles, grinning like a Chesire cat.

“Evans, where were you on Friday?! We missed you at the party! Y/N was gracious enough to help me decorate, the whiz that she is. Very good company.” He queried Lily, smoothly winking in your direction. You felt your body warming up, but not from your coffee. Lily, however, was not amused and threw a scathing glare at James. You were surprised that he would come and bother her over the party, considering what had transpired. However, it was well known around the office that he had a soft spot for your best friend, despite her obvious distaste. You had to credit the guy, he was nothing if not persistent.

“Amscray, Potter, I don’t have time for your attempts at witty banter this morning. Rita has been on the warpath all morning and your decorator just arrived. Thankfully with coffee, of course.” Lily spat at him, softening her tone when she mentioned you, although you noted her resentment in referencing you helping James. You clammed up, as did James, though you exchanged a look of concern. Your friendliness toward her rival was quite a sore spot.

“Well, there’s always the next one! Maybe Y/N can convince you to attend…” He commented, trying to maintain his bright demeanor despite being shot down by the other woman. James gave you a meaningful look before he turned on his heel and stalked off toward the marketing department. Lily groaned in frustration but didn’t look up as he walked away. She hadn’t said anything about Rita when you got there, although you’d seen your boss glowering at the air in her office. Why did Lily feel the need to bring it up to James? Was she annoyed that you chose to go to the party? You’d spent Saturday with her, and she hadn’t said anything about it at all. Had his appearance brought up those unpleasant feelings that she hadn’t addressed with you over the weekend? You sighed, not wanting to push her buttons any more than James already had, electing to focus on your current project. Rita had emailed you some of the details so you could get started, although she expected you to sit down and talk with her further.

Rita came barging out to your desk about an hour and a half before lunch and ushered you into her office. She kept you in there for the whole time and a little more before dismissing you. You felt exhausted after that conversation and would have skipped lunch entirely to debrief, except Remus Lupin was standing beside your desk looking sheepish. You glided over to him and an easy smile crossed his face. You were surprised to see him there. Usually, it was Sirius…

“You look like you’ve been run through Rita’s gauntlet, Y/N… if there’s anything I can do to help, please never hesitate to ask,” his voice was soft but tender, and you couldn’t help but beam up at him. He really was one of the most thoughtful men in the office, if not in general.

“That, however, can wait. You are cordially invited to join us for lunch at Molly’s in 10 minutes. I’ve been sent to fetch you, with your acceptance, of course.” He smirked, recognizing the confusion that was evident on your face.

“Sirius get bored of being the errand boy?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, to which he shrugged, “I really shouldn’t… this project Rita assigned to me is going to be a nightmare. But… in that case, I probably should come with you, since I’ll be holed up forever after this point.” You sighed dramatically. Remus snickered.

“I think Miss Skeeter can afford to lose you for an hour, don’t you?” He held out his arm, ever the gentleman. You took it shyly, slinging your coat and bag over your shoulder as you did. You couldn’t help but feel lucky to have made such… charming connections at work. Your last office had been full of old codgers who were bitter about their own lives and couldn’t be bothered with friendliness.

You and Remus made your way around the block, chatting pleasantly about the weekend. He mentioned that he’d gone to a book signing on Saturday, though he wished he’d had a companion to bring along. You couldn’t tell if that was his attempt at flirting, or whether he was just being friendly. You blushed regardless.

“I did run into Dorcas, though, so that was lovely. She’s very sweet when she’s outside of Marlene’s company.” Remus was only half-joking, judging by the grimace that passed over his face. Marlene McKinnon was a well-known troublemaker around the office, much like James and Sirius. She was a loud, attractive blonde who was confident and very popular with your male co-workers. If one wanted to have fun, Marlene was the best person to go out with any day of the week. However, she was also very reactive and had a vindictive streak.

Hell hath no fury like Marlene scorned, and Remus had made it very clear one evening when she drunkenly made a pass at him that he was under no circumstances an interested party. She didn’t take too kindly to that, and promptly turned tail and stole Sirius away for the rest of the night. Remus considered her a bad influence and was not shy in expressing this to his friend.

“Say, Y/N… I wanted to talk to you about Friday…” He said his voice barely above a whisper. You were startled, your head jerking sideways to see him blushing. You couldn’t imagine what Remus might’ve been thinking about since the weekend, but luckily you didn’t have to, because you arrived at the cafe. He seemed to realize this as you reached for the handle, and couldn’t hide his frown.

“I… can talk about it with you after work if you’d like?” You murmured shyly, unable to look at him. You could see the tension fall out of his shoulders, relief evident on his face. He nodded, managing a small smile and reaching past you to open the door. Your hand brushed his as you pulled yours back. The two of you stepped in, blushing brightly.

“There you two are, bloody hell! Thought you’d gotten lost on the way!” Sirius was the first to pipe up as soon as you spotted the table where your friends were seated. He seemed delighted, but that tempered when he saw the close proximity between you and Remus. When you came to the high top, Sirius shot up and pulled out your chair in a smooth flourish. Your whole body alighted in a moment of emotional combustion before you managed to compose yourself, giving him a million-watt smile in thanks. He gently pushed you close to the table, fingers brushing your shoulders expertly. You sucked on your bottom lip nervously as he returned to his seat, conveniently located beside you. If the other guys noticed this exchange, they pretended not to care. The waitress came over after spotting new arrivals, and you and Remus placed your orders before she flitted off.

“The waitress is pretty fit, am I right? Pete, you should give her your number…” James half-whispered to the table, waggling his eyebrows at the other man. It was Peter’s turn to blush, and he mumbled something about how James should do it if he was so interested. Sirius snickered at this moment but also gave you a sidelong glance to check that you weren’t annoyed by the conversation. At this point, you were used to the guys talking about other potential love interests in front of you. You would only intervene when the discussion veered into inappropriate or disrespectful topics. So, you just snorted and rolled your eyes, to which he grinned back with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’re so predictable, Jamie. She’s alright, but I’ve seen prettier women in the office, Merlin’s sake… or have you given up on your favorites already?” Sirius smirked, his tone jabbing at his best friend. James scowled, pouting angrily.

“The girls in the office are too busy with work to agree to anything beyond friends-with-benefits, in my experience,” James’ comment was laced with a bit of resentment, “but maybe I’ve just got rotten luck… Hey, Y/N, why don’t you have a boyfriend? I am honestly shocked thinking about it now… I don’t think you’re lacking suitors from the gossip I hear.” He turned his full attention to you, his petulant tone dissolving into suggestive curiosity. You couldn’t help narrowing your eyes at him then, but you composed yourself quickly. Despite Lily’s similar intimation that you were a popular object of affection among your office mates, you still weren’t convinced that their intentions were fully-formed. Remus coughed, looking away from James in distaste. Peter frowned, but he seemed to wonder along with James. Sirius seemed to be the only one who felt the urge to retort.

“You’re a nosy little blighter aren’t you, Potter? I feel like we’ve agreed that kind of talk about Y/N is off-limits. Her business is her own. She’s our friend, after all.” There was a thinly-veiled hostility to his tone which surprised even Remus. The waitress returned with the food before anything more could be said, and the rest of lunch was far quieter. James shut his mouth and looked away, eyes burning.

You were too uncomfortable to make any response one way or the other, though you didn’t really want the men to get into an argument over such trivial things. ‘Is it really trivial though? James is kind of right… why aren’t I dating anyone? I have a crush… why don’t I act on it? It seems to be reciprocated, from what I gather. Or was that just the effects of alcohol…’ You were so lost in thought that you barely ate. The waitress brought you a box to pack up your leftovers.

James was the first to leave after paying, without a word to anyone, although you caught an apologetic glance as he walked away. Peter popped up quickly and tagged along behind him, giving you a small goodbye wave. An audible sigh slipped past Remus’ lips as he stood up.

“While I agree with you, Sirius, I don’t know if that was the most effective way to deal with James’ query. But I understand… and I’ll go handle damage control since I already had the pleasure of Y/N’s company to myself. Thank you for joining us, by the way, Y/N. Sorry it didn’t go over as smoothly as we’d hoped.” His voice was firm but resigned. You shrugged and gave him a soft smile, knowing that there was nothing that could have been done about what occurred. You still had to speak with him later anyway, so he gave you a nod and followed the other two out the door, leaving you alone with Sirius, who was worrying at his cufflink. You turned to him, tilting your head at the door. He seemed to remember himself then and loped toward it alongside you. He took the box gently from your hand.

“Well, that was a lovely lunch, wasn’t it? I’m sure you’re itching for my next invitation now, aren’t you? You can plan for everything but this, I suppose…” Sirius tried to chuckle, but it sounded hollow. You reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He looked at you with a doleful expression, so you smiled back.

“I’m just happy I could get away from my desk and spend some time with all of you, really. Don’t worry about me. Your chivalry is noted, however…” Your tone was all velvet and sweetness, and this seemed to bring the warmth back to Sirius. You strolled in comfortable silence together, occasionally brushing shoulders before you finally arrived at the office building. He paused, looking up at it.

“Well, you’re always invited to lunch with us, regardless of our behavior. It makes me sad seeing you stuck at your desk all the time. I like to see you outside of your office persona. The party girl is just as cool as the businesswoman to me.” He purred as he handed back your box and opened the door. You could’ve sworn he winked as he mentioned partying; you couldn’t help blushing again.

It felt rather warm as you rode the elevator up together, and you had pointedly avoided the look Alastor gave as you two had passed by. You didn’t dare look over at Sirius for fear of him discovering your nervous demeanor, though you could feel his eyes on you. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding as the elevator reached your floor. You stepped out before Sirius stopped you, placing a hand on your arm. You started, turning back to him.

“You know I care about you, right? I mean, we all do, but I don’t want to have crossed a boundary defending you to James. And the whole thing with the party… I’m not sure what you think of me, but it’s important to me that those thoughts are positive. You’re… different. Special, you know?” The wholehearted vulnerability it took for Sirius to admit all of this, in the office potentially within earshot of other people, shook you to your core. It was a very rare man indeed who felt comfortable enough in his self-awareness and masculinity to admit all that. You didn’t quite understand why all this came to him now, but that didn’t matter.

“I do. And they are, trust me. Thanks for trying to wrangle James, but don’t worry about it for next time. I know him pretty well already to not take everything he says at face value, nor does he say anything to me that’s malicious. We’re all friends like you said. No need to dwell on it when we already have so many worries! But…” you paused to catch your breath and consider your final verdict, “I feel the same about you. You’re definitely a character, but a wonderful one!”

It was Sirius’ turn to blush, but you squeezed his hand on your arm before slipping out of his grasp and sauntering away to your desk, leaving him to stare in wonder after you. You didn’t look up until you were already seated, but he was already gone. Lily leaned back in her chair, giving you a look. You frowned, mouthing an apology before tucking into your desk. Rita had already sent another email making sure that you were on task. You’d made up your mind about talking to your love interest, but you would have to make time for that later...

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Thanks for reading, friends! You can now choose which path you want to finish up this little vignette below. Please specify if you want to be added to the tag list. Sorry for the repetition, but I had some people miss the rules last time so I want to be double sure you know what to do!

1. ...In the Office Kitchen

2. ...In the Floo Hub

3. ...In the Supply Closet

4 ...In the Testing Studio

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Tag List

@supremequeenofthenerds, @wizardwritings, @couragetocontinue, @fudgefight, @lionnottheanimal, @crtreg, @shehassomuchsoul, @formersovietunion and anyone who needs a rest from denouncing JKR for supporting nastyass TERFs! :)

#don't get caught #cubicles #choose your own ending #marauders x reader #office au #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #modern au #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #peter pettigrew x reader #my writing

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nightglider124 · 5 years

Text

RobStar Week 2019: Day 1

Sooo... I said I was probably not going to take part in RobStar week this year on account of just being burned out and hating basically everything I wrote.

However... I’ve been busting my ass this weekend to get some oneshots written for the week and so far, I’ve managed to churn out like 3 days so I’m rolling with the momentum because fuck knows how long the creativity will hold out.

Not the happiest with this first one... shock... but I like day 2 at least so... yea.

p.s - sorry if I have been awol or not responsive these past few days. I’m not ignoring anyone or anything. I’ve just been solely focused on writing these and haven’t wanted distractions so have like... really tried to stay away from discord and tumblr lmao.

Anyway... enough blabbering... hope you like day 1 and happy robstar week, folks!

(Forgive the weird, makeshift line break below. If Tumblr wasn’t such a little bitch and hadn’t got rid of said feature, it would look normal. >.>)

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Wayne Manor

Pearls of rain were speckled all across the glass with a few trying hard to best the others, racing one another to see who would be first to reach the bottom of the window pane, leaving a watery trail in their steads.

She brought her fingers to the surface, following the lines of the rain droplets, a patient smile on her face. The dampness outside was not one of her favorite types of weather patterns but she didn’t mind it so long as she didn’t have to go out in it.

It had been raining all day; non stop and relentless. Starfire sighed as she shifted in her seat, pressing the side of her head to the glass, her green eyes watching the new raindrops that appeared from the night sky.

She and Robin had arrived in Gotham early that morning and had spent a bit of time together around the city before they inevitably went to see Robin’s former mentor and legal guardian.

Bruce Wayne was, in Starfire’s opinion, a complex and intriguing man. There were a lot of similarities between him and her boyfriend; ones that were painfully familiar to her when she saw them in the billionaire by day, vigilante by night.

She had known Bruce for a while now; having been in a relationship with his son for 2 years, she had had her fair share of meetings with him.

And yet, she still wasn’t sure how she was supposed to take him. She wasn’t sure on what he thought of her as he could make himself just as unreadable as Robin could, if not more. It was so very frustrating to be around humans who were so secretive about their own thoughts and feelings.

Starfire constantly wore her heart on her sleeve; allowing all of her emotions to be showcased. It was a Tamaranian trait, to embrace everything one felt. The very idea of hiding your thoughts and feelings or not expressing them at the very least was unheard of on her world.

They had come to the city Robin had grown up in as another milestone approached.

Nightwing was on the horizon; plans and designs carefully in place, just waiting to be followed through. He had always told her how he wanted Nightwing to be separate from Batman but, asking for a small ounce of help in creating the identity wasn’t too hard a pill to swallow.

Alfred was someone that instantly made her smile; the older gentleman was warm and wise and she felt like she got on very well with him. He reminded her somewhat of Galfore, someone who would likely give her advice that was hard to hear but that was necessary.

If anything, she enjoyed visits to Robin’s former home, simply because of seeing Alfred. She liked to help him with household chores including food preparation or, if the rarity came when the sun was beaming down on Gotham, she would help him in the garden; all the while chatting about whatever they wanted to.

She didn’t have to wonder with Alfred; not like she wondered with Bruce.

As she sat on the integrated seat at the large window of the back of the den, she sighed and rolled her shoulders. There was a breath of loneliness that befell her at times such as this.

Robin had been summoned hours ago, spending the time with Alfred so that measurements could be taken for his new uniform. Bruce had gone as well of course; down the winding staircase into the cave.

She hadn’t explicitly been told she couldn’t tag along with the three of them but she also hadn’t received an invitation, having resorted to staying upstairs and out of their way, instead.

The faint smile she wore faded a little as her mind dwelled on the insecurities she had locked away inside of her.

Starfire had a gut feeling Bruce didn’t like her very much and was likely happy that she had not followed them down to the batcave. He was a conundrum of a person and she simply could not gauge what he was thinking, especially when it came to her.

In the beginning, when she had first come to Wayne Manor and met him for the first time, he had offered a polite smile and engaged in small talk with her as best he could but she still felt the scrutiny in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

Was it because she wasn’t from Earth? Was it because she was a super powered being and he felt that she was a dangerous threat? Or was it simply… he didn’t like who she was and didn’t approve of his son being involved with her?

Biting her lower lip, Starfire pushed the swell of concern mixed with unhappiness further down inside her. There was a lump in her throat and tears briefly pricked her eyes. She wanted him to like her, to think of her like an addition to their family but she had doubts that she would ever reach such a level of acceptance from the man beneath the cowl.

“Starfire?”

A squeak burst from her lips and she jolted forward, her heart thumping in her chest like a caged bird fighting to be free. She took a deep breath and turned to find the source of the voice.

Bruce stood at the archway of the den, staring at her with mild curiosity, his hands at his sides. He wore a pale blue dress shirt, with a stray button not done up at his neck along with pressed, black pants, looking pristine as always. The dim light in the room reflected in the shine of his dark leather shoes and she found herself blinking at him.

“Oh… B-Bruce… you startled me.”

A soft smile adorned his face, “Sorry. We seem to have that be a running theme in this house.”

She puffed out a laugh, “Yes, Dick often catches me by surprise when we are at the tower… he is most silent and works well to use stealth tactics, without even meaning to.”

He nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets, blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly in her direction,

“What are you doing down here?”

She gulped and suddenly felt nervous, a chill coming over her like she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t have.

Immediately, she got to her feet, shyly wringing her fingers together in front of her chest,

“O-Oh… apologies for… intruding upon areas of your home… I was just-”

Bruce tilted his head, looking confused, “Starfire, please… sit.”

She appeared hesitant now; unsure and uncomfortable.

“Please?”

Wordlessly, she sat back down on the cushion of the window seat, looking awkward as she pressed her knees together and threaded her fingers atop her lap.

Bruce calmly walked closer to her and waved a hand, “I didn’t mean it like you aren’t allowed to be here. You are… I was just curious why you were here of all places in the manor?”

She turned her head back towards the window, watching the rainfall, “This is… the most peaceful spot I have managed to find within your home. I can watch the rain here and be soothed by it.” She paused, “And… I did not wish to interrupt… your planning in the cave.”

His eyes widened a fraction, “Interrupt us? We were actually waiting for you for a time… Dick said you would come down but…”

“Oh.”

She felt her face become hot, embarrassed, with the blush hidden by the orange tone of her skin.

Peering down at the hem of her skirt, Starfire chewed on her lip, feeling foolish and out of place. Insecurity gnawed at her soul, whispering fears and uncertainties into her mind about what he must think of her.

Bruce watched her for a long moment, processing and reading her behavior before he crossed the space between them and took a seat beside her, on the cushioned surface.

“You must be used to the grim weather here by now.” Bruce murmured, his eyes focused on the lead of the water droplet race that was still in full swing.

Starfire blinked, surprised that he seemingly was trying to make conversation. As she had already pointed out to herself, Bruce was a quiet person, analyzing and calculating and using the true streak of a detective in him to figure others out, rather than conversing to do that like most people would.

“Uh… I… truly do not mind it. Rain is not something that we have on Tamaran. I find it fascinating.”

His brows rose, “You don’t?”

She shook her head, “We have water, of course. But, our water does not fall from the sky.” She paused as a memory floated through her mind and she giggled behind the palm of her hand,

Bruce tilted his head in a questioning manner.

“Forgive me… I… just remembered the first time I discovered rain on this planet. We were all at the park and it started to rain and I was most certain is was an enemy hiding in the clouds… until Dick explained what it was. I do not believe he expected me to spend the rest of our day jumping from puddle to puddle, refusing to go home.”

Bruce stared at her for a long moment before he quirked a smile, “I suppose it would definitely be something worth exploring if you’d never seen it before.”

She smiled fondly as she cast her mind back on that day, “The first time I saw the snow… it was much the same… Dick explained it to me and told me how snow only really comes in Winter.”

“He’s been quite a teacher to you through the years.”

Her smile widened a little more, “He has helped me adjust to life on Earth the most out of all our friends.”

Bruce’s blue eyes softened, seeing very clearly how much his son meant to this girl.

He hadn’t been sure what to make of Starfire when Dick had first mentioned her and when it became apparent that the boy wonder thought of her as more than just a friend, Bruce took a little more interest when Dick would let slip little details about her.

Meeting her was a full on experience, she’d been excitable and exuberant, floating around the manor with the other Titans, awestruck by the building. He remembered wondering if she ever stopped smiling and if her face hurt at the end of the day because of the constant cheer across her features.

That first time had been years ago now and yet, sometimes, he still got the feeling he and Starfire were at odds in some way.

He was far from oblivious. He could guess that she didn’t feel like she belonged or fit in whenever the two visited and stayed in Gotham for a few nights; the city and her were like polar opposites. One was gritty and dark, the other was passionate and full of happiness and life.

Bruce mused that that was what attracted Dick to the alien Princess; she was so different to what he’d known throughout his adolescence; a ray of sunshine through all the gloom, if you will.

“He’s always been the helpful type.” Bruce grunted,

“He is a good man.” She paused to look at him, her green eyes locking on his blue orbs, “For any flaws Dick may have… he has a big heart and a gentle nature…”

He held her stare for a long time; not exactly one to break eye contact easily, before he gave her a short nod, “He is.”

Starfire smiled and played with a lock of red hair, spilling over her shoulder and she turned her attention back to the rain streaked window.

Bruce refrained from clearing his throat awkwardly, trying to ignore the subconscious tapping of his fingertips against his knee. He wasn’t an open book and he wasn’t exactly the social type or at least… he didn’t enjoy being social.

But, in this case, he wanted to try. He knew he wasn’t easy to get along with and every single time they had come face to face, it was Starfire attempting to crack open the shell around him that she’d clearly shattered with Dick.

He’d noticed the change though; how in recent months, whenever they visited Gotham, Starfire had lost some of that glowing joy that usually radiated within an entire room, lighting everything up.

She’d given in a little with being the first to try and he could imagine what she thought, he thought of her.

Of course, she would likely be wrong.

Bruce considered her to be a very charming young lady; she was a very good fighter with a fiery temper to match. She was besotted with his son and he with her which was something no one could miss when seeing the couple together. She was an extremely upbeat soul with a sense of childlike wonder which was nothing short of endearing.

He was happy that Dick was happy and it didn’t hurt that Starfire was a lovely girl as well. He enjoyed her company and found her sweet; a rarity to find in most humans, especially in Gotham City.

“Have I ever told you about when Dick was just a kid and Alfred was in London for a few days?”

Starfire’s brows rose and a small, hopeful smile lingered on her lips as she shook her head.

Bruce chuckled, “He was only about 11 years old then and I’d finished a rough patrol… I had injuries that no child could really know how to dress.”

The Princess shifted, eyes sparkling with interest as she tucked her legs underneath her and laced her fingers together.

“And in usual Dick fashion with trying to help everyone around him… He ended up wrapped toilet paper around my wounds. He wasn’t stupid of course; he’d washed them with water and applied medicinals but this kid couldn’t figure out where Alfred would store the gauze so… doing what he does best, he improvised and headed for the roll in the bathroom.”

Starfire stared at the dark haired man for a long moment before she cracked up laughing, holding her stomach with one hand whilst the other covered her mouth as she descended into giggles.

“He did not!” She squealed, eyes bright with mirth,

Bruce smirked, “Oh he did… before he stuck the paper down with some plasters, hoping that would hold it all together.”

Wiping a tear from her eye, Starfire shook her head in disbelief, “That is most hard to believe. Beside Raven, Dick is possibly the best in the team at wrapping wounds after battles.”

Bruce eyed her, amused, “Well of course he is… after that little display, I had to teach him how to do it the right way.”

Starfire tucked her hair behind her ear as the last of the chortles flowed from her mouth, slowly feeling an ease in her chest, like a weight was lifting the longer Bruce kept the conversation going with her.

Maybe she hadn’t been entirely correct; maybe there was a chance that Bruce did approve of her and perhaps… he may like her.

“You sharing my embarrassing childhood moments with her, Bruce?”

Starfire beamed as she cast a glance over at the archway where Dick was standing, his arms folded over his chest whilst he leaned against the frame. He wore a smirk across his lips, like he already knew what they had been discussing.

“Me? Never.” Bruce told him in a somewhat stoic manner,

“Uh huh… sure you’re not.” Dick replied, pushing off of the wall to cross the distance before he took a seat just behind Starfire, one arm sliding around her waist and softly kissing her cheek in greeting.

“I’ve just been telling her about… skills you have now improved upon.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at his former mentor, “Is that right? Well, Star, would you like to hear some stories about Bruce?”

Bruce’s eyes widened slightly and he frowned at his son, “Don’t you dare.”

Starfire grinned and turned to her boyfriend, “I believe I would love to hear some.”

“Wait, wait… if you’re set on tarnishing my reputation…” Bruce paused and smirked, seeing Dick playfully roll his eyes in Starfire’s direction, “We’d best go and see Alfred for snacks.”

“You think he’ll be up for making his cookies?” Dick queried, getting up and offering Starfire a helping hand as well.

Bruce eyed the clock on the wall, “Hmm… I don’t know… it’s a little late.”

Dick grinned and laced his fingers with Starfire’s, “Maybe but I have a secret weapon with one hell of a puppy dog face.”

Starfire laughed, a tinkling sound amidst the brief silence in the room as walked towards the kitchen with Dick on one side and a smiling Bruce on the other.

And for once in all the times she had visited Wayne Manor, she actually felt like she could relax and that her presence was welcome, rather than tolerated. She felt like she belonged, even if it was just a little bit.

But, she decided it was something and that feeling could only grow in the future.

#robstar #robstarweek #robstarweek2019 #robin #starfire #teen titans #DC comics #i mean #its more star and bruce really #but #eh #fanfiction #nightglider124

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gossamie · 5 years

Text

the one, defined.

summary — The day Jimin’s name appears on the back of your hand will be the happiest day of your life. This is what you believe until you meet Taehyung.

pairing — kim taehyung x park jimin x reader

genre — angst + fluff

word count — 7,348

warnings — vomiting & gagging, subtle mentions of alcohol

notes — is this long overdue? yes. have i been horrible at writing consistenly lately? yes. will this make up for it? maybe.

well hi yes i am back with a real thicc boi of a story! i have been DYING to write a hanahaki au ever since i read inktae’s blue orchids, which is the first fic i ever read on tumblr and what inspired me to open my own writing account! i definitely had some creative liberties with the hanahaki au, but i tried to stick to its basic concept as much as possible. i hope you guys enjoy ♡

p.s. disclaimer: i do not own the hanahaki concept.

p.p.s. thanks again to @louvresdemiel aka the one person i literally cannot imagine writing without! love you so much!!

You have always hated the color black. Hated the way it looked on you, hated the way it stained the night sky, hated the way it reminded you of darkness and mourning and melancholia and the achingly beautiful feeling of nothing.

But his name will materialize onto your skin one day, and those nine black letters will be the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

This is the only thought that fills your head as you watch Jimin get down on one knee and open a small velvet box containing a diamond ring.

It’s hard to see Jimin clearly through the tears blurring your vision, but you can see that he’s all hopeful eyes and beaming smiles and trembling fingers and it only makes you fall for him even harder. Such a sight is one that you’ve only dreamed of seeing since you fell in love with Jimin two years ago. The day you met is still vivid, bright, wondrous in your memory, and you rewind each beautiful minute in your mind like a reel of film: the red umbrella that abruptly appeared above your head and sheltered you from the rain, the bashful grin that grew on Jimin’s lips, the shy introductions shared between the two of you, the way you looked into his eyes as he walked you home and knowing that marrying him would be a dream.

The memory is enough to make your tears turn into waterfalls because your dreams have finally come true.

When Jimin asks you to marry him, you say yes, yes, I would say yes to you for an eternity if I could, and he kisses you breathlessly amidst the flowering daffodils.

You ignore the fact that Jimin’s name hasn’t appeared on your hand yet.

“Well, it looks like Fate has brought us another star-crossed couple!”

A pink blush blooms on your cheeks at the exclamation as you embrace yet another one of Jimin’s wealthy relatives whose name you still don’t know. Your grateful smile never falters, however; it was Jimin’s family, after all, that was able to throw such a lavish engagement party in such a short amount of time. Jimin was as captivated as you were by the opulence of the venue when the two of you came earlier that day to help your future father-in-law set up the party, and when your fiancé asked if you liked it— the crystal chandelier bathing the banquet hall with a golden glow, the red velvet draped across the ceiling, and the seemingly endless bouquets of white roses that cover every blank space of the walls— you only nodded, smiled a little brighter, held his hand a little tighter.

But this was not what you wanted; you hated it all. This is not the intimate gathering that you thought you and Jimin agreed upon. This is all too many people and too many unfamiliar faces and this is all too much. This is not what you wanted, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him.

So this is how you remain: walking around the grand venue to thank both you and Jimin’s family members for coming to the party, resisting the urge to peel off the itchy lace dress that’s too tight in too many places your soon-to-be mother-in-law bought for you, and wishing to spend this day anywhere but here. It takes all of your energy to keep a lovely smile plastered on your face and even more of your patience to keep talking to the people who only acknowledge your existence when you come home with Jimin for the holidays, but you do it all for him, for the man that you love.

Your frustration reaches its peak when you hear the umpteenth reassurance of feigned sympathy and his name will be on the palm of your hand before you know it, don’t you worry and you’re about to tell Jimin that you need to get a breath of fresh air when he spots a guest standing by the desserts table and excitedly rushes over to greet them, leaving you to silently follow him.

“I can’t believe you’re here! I’m so glad you could make it,” your fiancé exclaims, tightly enclosing the stranger in an embrace. Several words are exchanged before Jimin turns around to look at you, as if he just remembered that you existed. “Oh— Y/N, this is Taehyung. We’ve been best friends since we were little kids, but he just moved back into the neighborhood. Taehyung, this is Y/N, my fiancée.”

He’s beautiful.

The thought pops in your head before you can stop it, its appearance so unexpected it is alarming, but it is impossible to deny his attractive looks; there is not one feature of Taehyung’s face that wasn’t filled with irresistible allure, that wasn’t crafted by the heavens to otherworldly perfection, that wasn’t made to be loved.

What’s more alarming to you, however, is the fact that Taehyung looks like someone that was made to be loved by you.

Taehyung must be utterly oblivious to your distress because he only looks at you with a boxy grin as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “So you’re the girl that Jimin never stops talking about. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

A nod is the only response you can muster because, as you take Taehyung’s hand, the carefully crafted smile on your face starts to slip as something in your heart shifts. There is no name for the emotion you are feeling, but it’s something, and it’s accompanied by clammy hands and electricity coursing down your spine and fire in your veins.

Something in your stomach violently lurches. You realize that if you stay here any longer— if you stay with Taehyung any longer— you’re going to be sick.

You say something that sounds vaguely similar to an excuse to use the bathroom and try not to make your haste for the door too obvious, ignoring any relative who tries to congratulate you on your engagement. The moment you leave the banquet hall, your footsteps hasten towards the restroom, throwing open the nearest stall before you collapse over the toilet and empty the contents of your stomach, the sound of your retching reverberating off the linoleum walls.

When you finally lift your head up after what feels like an eternity spent in agonizing pain, you look in the toilet bowl not to find vomit, but— but…

Flower petals.

Bright, yellow petals.

They grasp the sides of the toilet bowl, litter the white tiles under your knees, hang limply from your lips. You pick one up, admiring the way its velvety softness feels against the pad of your thumb, and marvel at how such a beautiful, miniscule thing will surely lead to your death.

Something that looks eerily similar to your own handwriting on the palm of your hand catches your eye. You look at it once to count the number of letters.

Not nine black letters, but eleven red letters.

You do not need to look at it again to know that it is not Jimin’s name on your palm.

You don’t leave your apartment for the next two days.

It’s fear that keeps you rooted to your bed, that tells you to leave Jimin’s endless calls and texts unanswered, that averts your eyes from the sinful red that deforms the palm of your hand. You fear meeting Taehyung again; you’re certain that if you were to look into his warm brown eyes again, you’ll purge all the yellow petals fluttering in your stomach onto his feet.

When you do allow yourself to spare a glance at Taehyung’s name written in red, you try to imagine Jimin’s name in black in its place, imagine what it would be like if Fate hadn’t been so cruel and had given you your true soulmate. You have even resorted to writing over his name with a pen for hours on end, fawning over your attempt to drown out the scarlet with obsidian.

But the pen’s ink is not the universe’s tattoo; it is as impermanent as the white roses that have withered away after the engagement party, and when you look at your hand after you exit the shower and realize that Jimin’s name is nothing but a smear against the crimson, you find yourself hating the color black all over again.

For the time being, as you wait for the stars to realign and for Destiny to stop working in its devilish ways, you allow yourself to be consumed by your love for Jimin until the memory of Taehyung’s deep voice is nothing more than a whisper, no matter how many times the mere thought of ignoring Taehyung makes you vomit yellow.

You continue to be oblivious to your pain until the third day, when Jimin shows up at your doorstep and invites you to come with him to Taehyung’s housewarming party, and at first, the petals that reel in your stomach at the mention of his name is enough to make you say no. But that something in your heart shifts again, begs you to be closer, closer to Taehyung until all you think is how much you need to be next to him and all you say is “Yes”.

When you arrive at the party, however, you make it your goal to avoid Taehyung at all costs by staying close to Jimin. Listening to Jimin as he chats with new and old friends alike, chiming in to introduce yourself every once in a while, taking far too many sips of the drink in your hand as you continue to act as the fly on the wall— you do anything to distract yourself from the flowers that scrape the sides of your throat and the man that makes your heart beat wildly at the thought of his smile.

You begin to think that staying next to Jimin tonight might not have been the best idea in the world when your fiancé finds Taehyung in the living room and starts up a conversation with him.

You know that staying next to Jimin was the worst idea in the world when, in the middle of his conversation, your fiancé says that he’s going to get another drink, forcing you to be in a conversation with him.

In one second, Jimin is seemingly ignoring your eyes, which silently beg him not to go please don’t leave me alone with someone I don’t want to fall in love with, as he turns his back towards you and makes his way to the kitchen.

In two seconds, it’s just you and Taehyung.

This moment— where Taehyung is looking at you and you’re looking at your feet and at your hands and at the ceiling and everywhere but him— is the one moment you’ve been attempting to avoid all night. You try not to think too hard about the silence that suffocates the two of you, nor do you try to to think too hard about how close you’re standing to him, nor do you try to think too hard about the electricity that surges through the air and crackles in your ears and sets fire to your heart until it is nothing but ashes.

You wonder if Taehyung is thinking about you, too.

Breaking the silence, Taehyung asks, “Are you excited about the wedding?”

“Yes!” you quickly reply, but the answer is more forceful than you would’ve liked, so you add, “I guess I’ve always known that Jimin was the one.”

You feel like you’re lying.

“Do… do you have someone like that? You know, ‘the one’?” you ask in return.

Don’t say yes don’t say yes why don’t I want him to say yes—

“No,” he responds. You stop yourself from sighing in relief. “I’d like to, though. I’ve always wanted to look at someone and think to myself, ‘That person’s going to be my soulmate.’” Taehyung gives you a soft smile. “It must be nice, huh? To feel that way about Jimin.”

You should answer him. You should play the role of an excited bride-to-be, say that you’re happy to spend this next chapter of your life with your soulmate even though the horrible red lie on your palm says otherwise.

But you can’t, because you’re transfixed by the way a medley of felicity and longing fills his eyes. You can see the universe woven into the depths of his pupils, hear the wistful desire in his voice, feel the scarlet on the palm of your hand burn, and you simultaneously want to leave as quickly as you can and stay for as long as possible.

So you don’t answer him. You’re not sure if you should feel shameful or grateful.

Suddenly, Taehyung’s cheeks begin to bloom with red roses, his eyes becoming suddenly fascinated by an imaginary speck of dust on his shoe. “So it’s been like ten years since I’ve lived here and I’m not sure how much has changed or stayed the same so I was wondering if you could show me around town or something like it’s no big deal if you don’t want to I was just—”

You can’t help but chuckle at the awkward fumble of his words. “I’d love to give you a tour of the town, Taehyung,” you answer, to which he responds with his beaming, boxy smile.

The two of you agree to meet the day after tomorrow as you and Jimin have booked an appointment with the florist tomorrow afternoon for the wedding, and you leave the party with the same thought as you did at the engagement party: it would be so, so easy to fall in love with Taehyung, and maybe— just maybe— it wouldn’t be so bad to fall for him.

The thought makes you throw up yellow petals the moment you get home.

“Y/N, what do you think?”

You blink, turning your head towards Jimin as he raises a brow, waiting for a response. You haven’t been listening to the conversation for the past few minutes; your attention is still focused on the stars that fill Taehyung’s eyes and the way they make petals churn in your stomach.

“Sorry, I just got lost in thought.” For all the wrong reasons. “What’s the question?”

“The calla lilies,” Jimin repeats, gesturing to the table in front of you. “Do you like them?”

You follow his gaze to the said table, where the florist is arranging the calla lilies into a flourishing bouquet of flowers. With the way the blossoms are set against the baby breath and the daffodils, they’re gorgeous, yes, but though they are the embodiment of purity and innocence, the simplicity of their beauty does not charm you, does not capture your heart, not in the way that Taehyung does.

I can’t stop thinking about him I need to stop thinking about him why do I keep thinking about him?

“They’re nice” is all that you reply.

Jimin is as unsatisfied with your answer as you are, so he asks the florist, “Do you have any more selections to choose from?”

“Let’s see… we do have some unconventional options that are not necessarily popular for weddings, but beautiful, nonetheless,” she responds, momentarily disappearing somewhere in the corners of her shop before producing even more flowers. “Might I suggest these? I think they would pair beautifully with the lavender.”

You look at the blooms in her hand and it takes everything in your power to push down the nausea rising in your throat.

That’s your flower.

The brilliant, golden petals that outshine the pearl and the amethyst and the topaz— those are your petals, and you know those are your petals because you see them caught in the locks of your hair and stuck to the skin of your bare feet and strewn across the floor of your bathroom when you throw them up every single night.

Jimin takes the question you would have inevitably asked right off of your tongue. “What are they called?”

“Yellow chrysanthemums. They’re quite pretty, no?”

Yellow chrysanthemums. The two words do not leave your head, repeat themselves over again.

Yellow chrysanthemums. Your flower is the yellow chrysanthemum.

“By any chance,” you ask, “do you know what yel— what they represent? I’d like for them not to just compliment with the other flowers’ appearance, but in meaning, too.” You marvel at how difficult it was for you to choke out the words, at how easy it was for you to let the lie slip from your lips.

“Well, on their own, chrysanthemums symbolize joy, long life, and fidelity, but yellow chrysanthemums specifically symbolizes slighted love.” The florist pauses for a moment. “On second thought, they may not be the best flower to put in wedding bouquets. How about white chrysanthemums? They represent truth and loyal love, which is perfect for a devoted couple such as yourselves.”

As Jimin opts for the white chrysanthemums and moves on to discuss the centerpiece arrangements, you look down to your intertwined hands perched on his knee. The back of your left hand is turned upwards, and you can see how the diamonds in your engagement ring glint and refract white light. They taunt you for the lies festering away in your heart, chasten you for the love that is growing for someone else, mock you until your right hand recedes further into the sleeve of your sweater.

But you accept the torment. This is your existence, after all; you are a glitch, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

Later, when you vomit yellow petals for the fourth time that night, you wish that the chrysanthemums were white.

You shouldn’t be as happy as you are to see Taehyung when he picks you up the next day, but the friendly, generic smile you have carefully painted on your lips does not match the excitement that makes you skip to Taehyung’s car. When he asks you where you think you should go, you mention some of the more interesting areas of the neighborhood, like the downtown area or the movie theater or the coffee shop that you frequent every mo—

“Okay,” Taehyung interrupts, “but that’s where other people want to go, and, frankly, I’m not really interested in other people. I want to know where you think we should go.”

And he looks at you— really looks at you— in a way that no one has ever looked at you before. He looks at you with such wonder and awe that it alights the galaxies in his eyes and sends the stars spiralling. He looks at you as if he has never seen anything so perfect, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that every single part of you— each flawed, tainted, and deformed part of you— is perfect, too.

You are the center of Taehyung’s universe, and you are beautiful.

Jimin has never looked at you like that before.

You push the thought aside and give Taehyung the directions to the botanical gardens.

Dusk begins to make its presence known to the sky when you arrive, the clouds dipped in soft hues of cerulean and merigold. The dying rays of light kiss the peonies and the irises that tickle your feet as they bend to the gentle breeze. You lead Taehyung down the winding path, strolling past the lily pads dancing across the surface of a nearby pond, past the archway woven with blush roses, past the patch of yellow chrysanthemums that you can’t bring yourself to look at.

“Why did you take me here?” Taehyung quietly asks, cocking his head slightly as he looks at you.

“I come here whenever I need a moment to myself, or whenever I need to just think. I like how peaceful it is here. It’s nothing like the rest of the neighborhood.” You pause. Then, “Jimin and I used to go here all the time. We liked to call it our little secret, but we haven’t been here since… well, since—”

Since he proposed to me.

The unspoken words linger on the tip of your tongue. You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence.

“But why don’t the two of you come here anymore?”

To be honest, you don’t know either, but you reply with, “Jimin became so busy with going to work and getting his doctorate that he just stopped coming.” It’s an excuse you’ve said so often that you’ve become numb to how sad the words make you feel.

If Taehyung can at all detect the automated nature of your answer, if he is at all disturbed by that fact, he doesn’t show it. He only offers you a kind smile in return for your words. “Thank you, then,” he says, “for sharing your secret with me.”

I feel so guilty I deserve to feel guilty why do I feel so guilty?

The petals that threaten to spill onto your feet stop you from saying anything else and make you walk faster.

An ivory gazebo hidden under the canopy of towering trees lies at the end of the path. You guide Taehyung up the steps, taking in the view before you as you lean against the railing. From your vantage point, you watch as the amber rays of the sun bleed into the violet haze of the sky. It is the same sun that watched you and Jimin all those months ago, when he took you by the hand and led you into the field of daffodils, when he told you that I love you more than you know and there is nothing to this life if you aren’t in it. It is the same sun that watched you and Jimin as he asked you to marry him, when you and Jimin became something more than lovers.

It is the same sun that is watching you with the wrong man.

The sound of Taehyung’s contented sigh breaks you from your reverie, and you are only then made aware of how fast your heart is filling with shame. “I see what you mean now,” he comments, propping his head on his cupped palm. “When you said how peaceful it is here. I’d stay here forever, actually, if I had the choice.”

You laugh and tell him how happy you are that he agrees, ignoring the voice in your mind that was about to tell him how much you’d like to stay here with him forever, too, if you had the choice.

Then, you and Taehyung fall into silence, your eyes fixed on the sun as it melts into the horizon. The two of you do not feel obligated to talk; both you and Taehyung feel at ease sitting in this comfortable yet electrifying stillness.

Time passes, and you and Taehyung stay together as the sky deepens to black. Yet, there is an unshakable feeling of wrong that remains constant, that stems in your stomach and sprouts in your chest and blooms in your lungs until you feel as if you might suffocate from the petals scratching at the edges of your throat because this gazebo belongs to you and Jimin; this garden belongs to you and Jimin. This is Jimin’s piece of your heart, and it is not yours to give away.

But an overwhelming, deafening feeling of right drowns out the wrong because you do not feel as if you are giving anything away. It is as if this gazebo, this garden, this piece of your heart was all Taehyung’s from the very beginning.

Months waltz by in a pink haze. More often than not, when you’re not talking with the wedding planner about the potential venues and the ever-growing guest list, your days are spent with Taehyung in the gazebo surrounded by daffodils. In the time that the two of you spend together, he learns of all of your little peculiarities, just as you learn about his. He learns that you love the feeling of freshly-washed hair and newly-shaved legs, that you actually enjoy pineapple on your pizza, and that you particularly— and, admittedly, strangely— enjoy watching mixed martial arts in your free time. You learn that he loves to search for music that no one listens to, that he can only drink one glass of beer before he gets drunk, and that he can climb a tree but can’t climb back down, among the many, many things that make it harder for you not to fall for him.

But these odd conversations sometimes grow into something more personal, something more than it should be, and you find yourselves revealing to each other things that were once untold truths. He tells you of his fear of his future, a future where being surrounded by so many people is meaningless if he continues to become consumed by this paralyzing loneliness. He tells himself that he doesn’t need someone to love to make him happy, that he doesn’t need to be in such a hurry to find love, but maybe the moment that he’ll find his soulmate’s name on his palm is coming a little too slowly and maybe the day when he can call someone his lover to finally ease the hollow pit in his heart isn’t coming fast enough God, I just wish it would come faster.

You tell him of your fear of your future— or, more specifically, your fear of your future with Jimin. It’s not that you don’t love him— it’s definitely not that, because you do, you really do— but maybe things are moving just a little too fast and maybe the word ‘marriage’ is transforming into the word ‘burden’ just a little too quickly and two years was not enough time to decide that being with Jimin until death did you part was the dream you wanted.

You don’t tell him that your love for Jimin is fading with each passing day.

And it is when all of these thoughts are released from your mind in one unsteady breath that Taehyung looks at you— really looks at you— and, after some thought, asks you, “Y/N, why did you fall in love with Jimin?”

You wish you didn’t have such a hard time finding a reason, but you are, so you simply reply with “He’s perfect.”

“Just because he’s perfect doesn’t mean he’s perfect for you.”

Taehyung’s words haunt you, follow you to the next evening, when a text from him— along with several others— lights up your phone screen as you eat dinner without your fiancé for the second night in a row.

[05:13 P.M.] taehyung: Y/N

[05:14 P.M.] taehyung: Y/N

[05:14 P.M.] taehyung: helloOOOOooo Y/N

[05:16 P.M.] y/n: um yes? you rang???

[05:17 P.M.] taehyung: meet me at the gardens

[05:17 P.M.] taehyung: like

[05:18 P.M.] taehyung: right now

[05:19 P.M.] y/n: now? why?

[05:20 P.M.] taehyung: i have a surprise for you

[05:20 P.M.] taehyung: and it won’t be a surprise anymore if you don’t come quick so hurry!!

When you arrive at the gazebo, you find Taehyung nervously pacing back and forth, pausing every once in a while to rearrange the LED candlelights placed along the railing that you know he bought because he can’t trust himself with actual fire. On the wooden floor below him, a checkered picnic blanket is laden with platters of food, and you note that the delicacies— including tacos, pasta, and sushi— are all your favorites; in the sky above him, the golden sun is sitting on its throne, preparing for its descent into the night.

Taehyung catches sight of you and stops his rapid footsteps. “Y/N!” he exclaims, one hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck in anxiety as he takes small, cautious steps towards you. “I know that you told me that you prefer sunsets over sunrises so I— uh… was wondering if you… wanted to watch the sunset together?”

You can only stare back at him in awe. “You remembered that?”

He scoffs, as if you had asked him the most ridiculous question he had ever heard. “How could I forget?”

“Well, it’s not the most important piece of information in the world.”

“But it’s you. Everything about you is important to me.”

You smile, and it is in this moment that you become so happy you almost forget how to breathe; it is in this moment that you realize you haven’t been this happy in a very, very long time.

“So,” Taehyung hesitantly asks, “is that a yes?”

You nod. “Yes, Taehyung, I’d love to watch the sunset with you.” I would say yes to you for an eternity if I could.

Taehyung then returns your smile with that big, beautiful boxy grin of his as he sits down on the blanket, patting the seat to his right in a gesture for you to join him. As the sun dips behind the daffodils, casual conversation quickly devolves into something that it shouldn’t be and suddenly there are words slipping from your lips that no one not even Jimin has heard before and quickly you and Taehyung are breaking off shards of yourselves to give to each other to keep and instantly you have given Taehyung your heart and strangely you are okay with it.

These few moments shared between you and Taehyung have become so intimate, far more intimate than anything you have ever experienced. Not even the memory of Jimin’s proposal stirs that something in your heart in the way that Taehyung does when he murmurs his innermost secrets into your ear, and the fact that that statement does not disturb you as greatly as it should causes the red on your palm to ignite on your skin.

This something that lingers in your heart is a white rose. It is beautiful, alluring, but there is no rose without its thorns.

The sun is beginning to dip over the horizon when Taehyung suddenly whispers, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t call this a ‘surprise’, this is too simple. I wanted to do more than this— no, you deserve more than this.”

“What are you talking about?” you interject. “Taehyung, everything is perfect.”

Just as you’re perfect for me.

The words materialize in your mind unknowingly, just as Taehyung’s name appeared on your skin all those months ago, and you realize that you have never felt that way about Jimin before.

There is no time to register the shock that paralyzes you from that realization because Taehyung’s lips are moving closer and closer to yours and your heart is beating faster and faster and you want to deny how you have been secretly wanting this moment to happen and how long you have waited for these few seconds to come but you can’t and you don’t know what to make of the chaos that are your emotions.

But you look into the galaxies that fill Taehyung’s eyes, and your heart drops because you know.

You are hopelessly and endlessly in love with Kim Taehyung.

The thought is so jarring, so wrong yet so right that you must run from it.

So you do.

Before Taehyung’s lips can meet yours, you abruptly stand and shakily step back towards the gazebo steps, tripping over plates of food as you struggle to form a coherent excuse for your quick departure. Then you’re running blindly towards your car, your senses becoming a blur of tears streaming down your cheeks and wind rushing past your ears, drowning out the sound of Taehyung’s voice frantically calling out your name and Taehyung’s footsteps wildly following yours.

You left with the memory of Taehyung’s eyes, with the stars that you loved to see so much clouded by a black storm of agony.

You cannot count how many times you threw up yellow petals that night.

When you wake up the next morning, your eyes puffy and your muscles weak, the first thing you do as you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror is speak. The words you say are soft, frail, but they are there. It is a miracle that you can find your voice after the hours you’ve spent sobbing.

You need your voice; you need it to tell Jimin that you don’t love him anymore.

You don’t want to tell him, but you have to; he deserves to know the truth, the reason behind the pain you will cause him.

You do not love Park Jimin. You are hopelessly and endlessly in love with Kim Taehyung, and he deserves to know that.

Such a statement is one that needs to be said aloud, and you are about to muster up your courage and leave for your fiancé’s house when you find that he has been waiting for you on your doorstep.

Jimin’s hair is disheveled and his clothes are in a disarray. You can see his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Red rims his pupils; black hangs in circles underneath his eyes. This is not the confident, charismatic Jimin you know, and, before the words leave his mouth, you sense that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Pushing past you, Jimin stalks into your living room, furiously pacing back and forth on the carpet. With his eyebrows furrowed and his bottom lip bitten, he seems lost within his thoughts, as if he is struggling to make sense of them, of the words he has yet to say.

Then, he turns to you.

“Y/N, why did I just throw up petals?”

You don’t respond.

“And your name… why did it appear just now?”

You don’t respond.

“Why is it red?”

You don’t respond.

“What… what’s happening to me, Y/N? Why is this happening to me? This— none of this is supposed to be happening.” He steps towards you, his eyes desperately moving across every feature of your face, searching for an answer you cannot give him. “You’re my soulmate, right?”

You respond by turning over your hand and showing Jimin the name on your palm, shame written all over your trembling fingers.

Upon sight of Taehyung’s name, Jimin vomits petals onto the living room carpet.

His flower is the daffodil.

Pain distorts Jimin’s face, warps his body until his knees buckle and his shoulders quiver from the force of emptying the petals from his stomach. Kneeling by his side, you try to ease his torment— you rub circles on the small of his back, you comb your fingers through his hair, you hold him with what little strength you have— but to no avail, because no amount of care will change the fact that you are the cause of his suffering, that you are the one person he is reminded of when he throws up daffodils, that you are the reason your name will never appear in black on his hand.

You will that something inside of you to change, to love Jimin for just one moment, to take away his pain for just one moment.

But you can’t, because the name that’s tattooed on your heart is Taehyung’s, not Jimin’s, so you are forced to look away, unable to look at the torture you unwillingly inflicted upon the man you once loved.

An eternity passes before the sounds of Jimin’s heaving fades to silence.

Then, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You dare a glance at Jimin. His eyes, focused on yours, are brimming with tears, and you realize that they are not from the pain of his vomiting earlier.

It takes you several moments to form your answer. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” you reply.

“Knowing that you don’t love me the way I love you hurts more.”

Jimin takes a deep, shaky breath before he lifts himself up off the carpet, but shame roots you in your place. You hear his footsteps moving towards the door, then stop.

“Y/N,” he whispers, “I would’ve let you go, if Taehyung really was your soulmate. You deserve to be loved by someone, even if that person isn’t me.”

Jimin’s footsteps fade into nothingness, leaving you on your knees surrounded by daffodils.

The next time you hear from Jimin is when he calls you to tell you that he has called off the wedding.

He also tells you that he has scheduled his surgery for next week, when he will inevitably lose all the love he ever had for you.

It is a short, terse conversation, yet the pain of his words— the pain of knowing that you will never see him at the end of the aisle, the pain of knowing that the silver of your engagement ring will never be joined by the gold of a wedding band, the pain of knowing that, in a matter of days, Jimin will forget that he ever loved you— only stings when he hangs up, when you realize that they are the last words you will ever hear from him.

Jimin leaves you in silence. And you let him go without a word.

A part of you hates Jimin. Hates him for not giving you a proper goodbye. Hates him for being so cruel even in your last moments together. Hates him for not returning the piece of your heart he took two years ago.

But another part of you misses him so, so much. Misses the warmth of his body pressed against yours on cold, sleepless nights. Misses the crook in his teeth that you love so much about his smile. Misses the feeling of his breath tickling the shell of your ear when he whispered how much he loved you.

Loved. He doesn’t love you anymore. He will forget that he ever loved you.

Loved. You once loved Jimin, fallen out of love with him months ago, and yet, you can’t help but mourn what has been lost.

Weeks pass in painful, heartbreaking, mournful silence. You try to suffuse your life with white noise, distract yourself by catching up with old friends you never liked talking to, drinking until you forget when the day starts and the night ends, sleeping to avoid feeling the throbbing heartache in your chest, anything to keep your mind off of the memory of Taehyung’s anguished eyes as you ran away that night and the feeling of yellow chrysanthemum petals scratching your throat and the sound of Jimin hanging up the phone and the sight of the wedding dress you just can’t bring yourself to return.

It is still achingly silent as you exit the bathroom after vomiting bright yellow flower petals for the fifth time that day when a knock on your door resounds throughout your entire apartment. You shuffle to the front entrance and wordlessly open the door, thinking that it’s either your landlord trying to haggle you for your rent that you swear you paid three days ago or the food you ordered thirty min—

Taehyung.

Taehyung, the man that you are hopelessly and endlessly in love with, is standing at your doorstep with shaking hands and widened eyes, as if he was sure you weren’t going to answer the door, as if he was sure you were just a shadow in his memory for all these months, as if you surely don’t exist right here and right now.

“Y/N,” he breathes. You flinch at the way he makes your name sound so beautiful on his lips, at the way each syllable stirs the petals in the hollow pit of your stomach. “I—I came to see if you were okay. I… I heard about the wedding. I’m sorry about that, by the way, really. I don’t think saying that will help at all, but I know Ji— I know he meant so much to you.”

You can’t respond.

“I also came because… because I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. I don’t like not talking to you. I don’t like not being around you. I don’t like not knowing if you’re okay.”

You can’t respond.

“I understand that this isn’t the best time for me to be here right now. You need time, I get it, but I just wanted you to know that I will wait for you as long as you need to. I would wait forever for you if it meant that, at the end of forever, I could be with you.”

You can’t respond.

“I—I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I shouldn’t have come,” Taehyung hurriedly mumbles, and turns around to leave.

“Wait,” you exclaim. “Please… please don’t leave. Don’t leave me alone.” It is enough to make Taehyung’s footsteps stop moving.

Suddenly, tears start to prick the corners of your eyes and words start to pour from your mouth in waterfalls. “I’m the one who should be sorry. That night… I shouldn’t have left the way that I did. I’m not afraid to be with you, Taehyung— God, if things were different, I would have kissed you right then and there and I would have stayed with you from the very beginning and I would have chosen you every single time.” You loosen a shaky breath. “I’d always choose you.”

Taehyung turns around to face you, but his focus is directed on what lies behind and below you. When you follow his gaze, a breath hitches in your throat at the sight.

A trail of chrysanthemum petals leads its way into the bathroom, each petal a ravishing, sickening yellow. Petals cling to your bare feet, stick to your skin like golden thorns.

You have never felt uglier in your entire life.

You try to avoid Taehyung’s eyes, but they ask you, plead you for an explanation, so you quietly show him your upturned palm, baring the name on your heart line in all its horrifying beauty. Your fingers twitch as he gently holds your wrist, the skin of your hand itching to pull away from Taehyung stop showing him how much of a freak you are but the pad of his thumb runs over the red letters of his name and you are a stone alight in flames under his touch.

“How long?” he whispers.

“Since the engagement party. When we first met.” The day is still vivid, bright, wondrous in your memory.

Taehyung is silent for far too long. You will him to let go of your hands, will him to let you go, will him to spit in your face and tell you that you’re nothing more than a glitch and a defect of destiny and a cursed flaw and just get it over with already—

“I should’ve told you sooner” is his only response.

You’re taken aback by the simplicity of his words. “Should’ve told me what?”

“I should’ve told you sooner that I love you, Y/N.”

Destiny watches the sun and the moon and the galaxies of the universe come to a standstill, makes time stop for the two soulmates formed from the stars.

“You… you love me?”

“Yes, Y/N, and I should’ve told you that and more because I knew that I would love you from the moment I first saw you. I should’ve told you that I love you with every single breath I have and that I will love you until I forget how to breathe and I promise you that I will never cause you so much pain again. You have my word, now and forever.”

Then, Taehyung kisses you, and he kisses you with such hunger and passion and warmth and love that it is enough to make you forget the yellow chrysanthemums, to wither the petals that suffocate you, to turn the red that mars the palm of your hand into a beautiful black.

Falling in love with Kim Taehyung— it is not the love you dreamed of having two years ago, but it is the love that you were destined for, the love that you were made for, the love that Fate had given you, now and forever.

#btsguild #kpopwritingnet #bts #bts fic #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung fic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #jimin fic #jimin fluff #jimin angst

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crazyperfectsense · 4 years

Text

4/30/20/1

god April was 5 minutes long and I’m going to spend all 5 of them writing this post

this is honestly probably far too personal to put into the public of the internet, and perhaps I’ll take it down before anyone really sees it, but Tumblr is comforting because it is almost a graveyard and the people who remain (who I see in fleeting posts in passing, hi) I trust (or just will not see this because they do not care or the algorithm does not favor long text posts), whereas Facebook is horrifying and Instagram is worse, and this is likely going to be too long to hold anyone’s attention for the whole thing, but I also want to get some notes down for whenever I finally get to talk to my therapist again, so here we go

I woke up at 6:30am naturally (horrifying!), leapt out of bed because I realized how much work I had to do (hate when a nap turns into just...sleep!), and got a text from my dad 15 minutes later that my maternal grandfather was in critical condition, and somehow still managed to do work for the next six hours out of necessity

it briefly brought back flashbacks to 2012, where my dad didn’t tell me for a week that his father died because I had finals my first semester of college, but told me right after he picked me up as we were driving across campus to pick up a friend that we were taking back home, so I had about 3 minutes to compose myself before a 2 hour car ride (horrifying!)

my grandfather died around 1pm, and I had the truly unique (horrifying! ! ! !) experience of finding out via text while I was on a Zoom call as the TA, where I was the only person sharing video other than the professor (my advisor!), and I had to keep my composure while simultaneously finishing creating the homework that I was behind on making while also trying to figure out what to respond to this text notification of mortality, because I don’t know how to say any sort of condolence really in Chinese, but my dad was handling communications and just texting in English anyway — and I don’t know, it’s the kind of thing where I probably could’ve ditched the call and made excuses later, but the effort to preserve even the slightest tinge of normalcy in this moment seemed right, and I did my very best (and succeeded!) to not spontaneously burst into tears on camera, even though I did about 0.03 seconds after I hung up

an aside: thank god that my advisor was sharing screen and people were hopefully focused on him / in speaker mode or something, because my neutral face is....poor! not entirely sure because I avoided making eye contact with my virtual self aside from brief checks to make sure that I was still alive, still functioning as I flickered from screen to screen across my two monitors

I had a meeting scheduled with my advisor afterwards, and he was all ready to move into it, but was so extremely understanding the second he saw my message I had sent 50 min earlier that was effectively “can we push this back a bit because my grandfather died and I need to call my fam lol” and suggested (as any normal person with emotions would) that I take the time to formally postpone and regroup if needed (needed!) rather than just pushing back a half hour or so like I naively thought would work

I had to desperately cry for about 20 minutes (horrifying!) before I felt ready to call my family, even so

I hate hearing my mom sad! it’s the fucking worst! but it was a relief for 2 seconds to exist over a phone line with someone who also couldn’t talk straight without needing to take a few gasping breaths

another aside: i didn’t write about this in February because, well, everything was on fire in my life already, so briefly: my mom was supposed to be in China through mid-March, having gone there in October. things obviously went to shit, given *gestures at COVID-19 and the world*, and we booked her an early return flight, given that the senior living facility my grandparents were in had already closed to visitors out of precaution. my brother, dad, and I collectively freaked the fuck out (my brother started crying in the middle of class and had to leave, I barely held it together in mine but paid negative attention) when flights back from China started getting cancelled (and for those like, terrifying few hours where Trump was going to ban foreign nationals since my mom’s not a citizen and they didn’t make it clear that immediate family of US citizens were fine), but we somehow made it happen

so, back to the phone call: I just let her talk and she had so many regrets about leaving China when she did, and it just made me feel like the shittiest person for wanting her back home in America when it deprived her of the chance to see her dad one more time. my uncle and mom luckily got to take my grandparents out of the senior home for one night to celebrate Chinese New Year the day before the facility closed to visitors, so they had one last dinner together as a family but thinking about the what ifs makes me want to cry all over again. my mom just kept saying how she wished she could’ve done more, how she wished they had gone to the hospital earlier for a check-up, and the most I could helplessly contribute was “coronavirus concerns were already rampant and it could have been even worse, given airborne contagion,” even if I said as many other things as I could, about how dialysis was painful as hell and my grandfather, the former doctor, said he didn’t even want to be in the ICU at the end years before his passing

I learned what the Chinese words were for “depression” today, when my mom said my grandfather said he had it and they had gotten him some medication for it a few months ago, and I was so stunned that it was “depression” and not some strange disease I was unfamiliar with that I couldn’t say anything for 30 seconds, and I can’t really write more on this point because I will just start crying, but perhaps I should really think about how aging research is largely focused on non-Asian populations and how perhaps, I’m uniquely equipped to contribute a bit to the field here (but, that is true for so many things, and I am tired!)

my grandfather was great. he was quiet, but stubborn as hell. he was a doctor, and he loved routine. he cared so, fucking, much about me and my brother. he always insisted on taking my brother and me on walks to the same few places that he liked to visit — I remember visiting this community center that had a ping pong table — and him going out of his way to find me internet access, since my grandparents’ apartment didn’t have it for most of the years I visited. he loved taking me and my brother to KFC, because he thought it was the height of Americanized cuisine in China, and was so proud of how much better it was than American KFC (which he hadn’t had, but he knew, and he was right. we would eat every single bite of a two-piece meal each. even the ketchup was better). he once cut out a newspaper clipping ranking UT as the #2 college on this huge list of colleges (I think it was referring to research endowments, but anyway) and saved it to show me almost a year later. he told me in 2013 that he would probably live to see me finish college, and he lived to see me two years into grad school, dying when I was halfway through year three. he was 89. I loved him so much, even if we didn’t get to talk much at all.

I’m so mad at all these fucking people who, in the land of the free and the home of the so-called brave, are being idiots in this time and not social distancing. I’m so mad at every single friend who posts a large or small gathering to their story, at everyone who is so thirsty for social connection that they’re willing to put everyone they’re in close contact with at risk to hang out with another person for just a few hours (horrifying!). humans are social creatures who need engagement and connection to live — having written 22 pages about health and social relationships across 12 hours a few weeks ago, I understand this point so saliently that it’s painful. but seeing such....levity when my mom is crying over not being able to even go back to China to properly say goodbye because they won’t admit anyone from the US (and the US has banned travel to China, like that was necessary in this xenophobic environment) makes me want to punch a wall. suck it up! call your friends over Zoom or FaceTime like the goddamn rest of us!

grief is so strange, and grief is encapsulated in every molecule of this new normal — the strangeness of missing the life that once was, even if the past wasn’t something that I thought I’d miss. I remember feeling so, so guilty for traveling twice in February because of the studying for comps that I should’ve been doing, and now I marvel at my foresight. (and have so many regrets for the people who I told “I’ll see you in April when I’m back after comps are done!!”

I’m in this weird spot where I feel like I’m screaming at the people around me to care, and all of them are too busy with different social ties, and I’m watching my connections wilt and fray because everyone thinks I’m so stable and put-together (or boring and shy?)

an example: I was left off of a reunion Zoom call with some people I worked with in college that was widely talked about on social media regarding “love having shared all this time with these strong women” and all, and it felt very, idk, selfish and whiny (horrifying) to be like “how can you call this feminism when I, a real woman, am being left out of this call”! the following exchange, about the above, happened with in a group chat with a very blunt friend:

D: “Also, how does it feel to be left out of that [organization] Women zoom call, Amy?” another aside: (this....was a stupid question. but we’ll allow it, because boys will be boys.) me: “lol it honestly hurt my feelings but it's not like they weren't cliquey from the very beginning ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ to be expected I suppose” D: “Yeah when I saw that I was like “Why didn’t include Amy, she was there at the same time as they were”” me: “LOL thanks for thinking of me 🥺 they clearly did not”

(the other friend staying quiet, because it was tangibly awkward, even if I tried to play it chill, but my feelings remain hurt) perhaps if I cared more, or wanted to try and make people feel bad, I would’ve replied to a story with “tfti”, or laughed, or heart-reacted, or something “casual” that still implicates “where was my invite”, but....is it even worth investing the hurt and care and time when I’m not even sure it would spark embarrassment on their end? because perhaps they intentionally just do not...care about me and my feelings? at all? (horrifying?)

(I already know this to be true, even if the snub was unintentional, but I needed to muse about it anyway)

another aside: I still talk with plenty of people from this organization who I am MUCH closer with, and I shouldn’t feel snubbed to be snubbed by people who I never felt too close with in the first place! (and yet! horrifying!)

sent an extremely passive aggressive message earlier and yet, K tells me that the people in the chat might not even read it as passive aggressive! (horrifying!)

god. I don’t know! I feel so much sadness and anger, and yet still have a few hours of work to do tonight. it’s wild that even today, where my heart just hurts every few seconds if I think too hard, I still have my mind centered in needing to be productive and not lazy because I’ve already spent too much time procrastinating on my work (horrifying!). but the work is about Asian American collective action / media production, and I feel good about it, and I’m working with some badass Asian women, and I really hope it lands in this flagship journal, because that would be a win, and I kind of just need one!

oh if it’s not clear I finished comps and I don’t know if I passed yet but they’re done so...that’s something

also whoever fucking looked at Chicago style citations and thought “oh hmm, let’s make another type of Chicago style that is DIFFERENT and call it Chicago style documentation” is the literal fucking devil

ok this is enough for now bye. god this was long. (horrifying!!!!!!)

#ever spontaneously write 2000+ words

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anonymous-wolf22 · 4 years

Text

Fuck Yeah

1: Name Kai

2: Age 22

3: 3 Fears Fiance leaving me, never meeting him face-to-face, being alone with my thoughts

4: 3 things I love My fiance, food/desserts, and animals ^^

5: 4 turns on Hell, anything my fiance says to me, forced to submit, pain, and just looking at my fiance

6: 4 turns off Talking bout my parents, my current life situation, thinking about a certain asshole, and my depressing thoughts seeping through

7: My best friend That one’s hard.... It’s a tie between David and Kiana, though I’m leaning more towards David

8: Sexual orientation Bi-sexual <3

9: My best first date What first date?

10: How tall am I 5.1 ft :’(

11: What do I miss Triple Chocolate Fudge Cake

12: What time were I born 1:03 pm

13: Favorite color Black, Red, Purple, and Blue

14: Do I have a crush Yep :)

15: Favorite quote I got lots

“It’s funny how someone can break your heart and you still love them with all the tiny pieces”

“I choose you. And I’ll choose you, over and over. Without pause, without a doubt, in a heartbeat. I’ll keep choosing you”

“The demons are back and stronger than ever. They are looking for a fight, looking to win, and this time, I might just let them.....”

16: Favorite place Does in my fiances arms count if I haven’t been there yet?

17: Favorite food They are all number 1 <3

18: Do I use sarcasm Sometimes

19: What am I listening to right now Criminal by Britney Spears

20: First thing I notice in new person Hmm, the way they act, their personality~

21: Shoe size Fuck, idk lmao

22: Eye color Blue

23: Hair color Dirty-Blonde (Wish it was black)

24: Favorite style of clothing I don’t know, I guess loose and comfy

25: Ever done a prank call? Can’t remember

27: Meaning behind my URL Don’t have one

28: Favorite movie Fuck, uhhhh..... Deadpool 1&2 for now~

29: Favorite song Lot’s, Baby Don’t Cut - Bmike, Anxiety - Blackbear, Hold On - Chord Overstreet, and more fucking depressing songs <3

30: Favorite band Hmmm.... Ramstein

31: How I feel right now Eh, depressed, loved, horny, sad, upset, happy, it’s all jumbled up

32: Someone I love My fiance~

33: My current relationship status Engaged <3 <3

34: My relationship with my parents I wouldn’t care if they died, not going to lie, I would do it if there were no consequences

35: Favorite holiday Halloween ;o

36: Tattoos and piercing i have Sadly, no tats yet. Only piercings I have so far, are my ears

37: Tattoos and piercing i want Tattoo: A knife going through a skull with chains loosely wrapped around it Piercing: The tip of my ears

38: The reason I joined Tumblr My fiance told me about it, and it was an easier way for us to chat with each other and send each other all of the dirty little naughty things we want~

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other? I don’t know if he hates me, but I don’t know if I hate him, I’m just fucked up and confused

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? Sometimes

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? Nope, but I hope to soon~

42: When did I last hold hands? Hold hands? I think that was in 8th grade when my friend Kiana was dragging me away from the bullies

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? Like 5-10 minutes

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? Yep

45: Where am I right now? In my cursed room

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? Depends, where am I? In England, my fiance. Here? I don’t know, Kiana

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? Depends on the type of music playing, and also what it’s playing from, like headphones.

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? Unfortunately

49: Am I excited for anything? 2024 :3

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? Yep

51: How often do I wear a fake smile? Honestly? 97% of the time

52: When was the last time I hugged someone? I don’t know, uhmmm..... think it was in 11th grade

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? Well, that’s a hard one, cause I have yet to kiss anyone. But, say if it was my fiance, I would slap the shit out of whoever he is kissing, and probably shove a stick up their @$$

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? ....

55: What is something I disliked about today? No chocolate

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? My fiance, I just want him in front of me and to hug him and never let go~

57: What do I think about most? 2024, Desserts, Fiance, Music, Pets, unfortunately, John

58: What’s my strangest talent? Uhhh.... Don’t really have any, I guess hiding how I truly feel inside

59: Do I have any strange phobias? Is being deathly afraid of ants a strange phobia?

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind, 100%

61: What was the last lie I told? That I was fine

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? I don’t know, they both seem a bit weird to me

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Ghosts, yes. Aliens? I don’t know

64: Do I believe in magic? Who knows

65: Do I believe in luck? Sometimes

66: What’s the weather like right now? Clear

67: What was the last book I’ve read? A fan-fiction of RWBY

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? Yesssss

69: Do I have any nicknames? K

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? My arm twisting completely around

71: Do I spend money or save it? Save

72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue? Nope :(

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? Eww, fuck noooo

74: Favorite animal? Entire Cat family and wolves

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? Watching “Love 020″ on Netflix

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? Hmmm.... I have no clue, never really thought about it

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? Lots, but, definitely this one: Dream of You - Camila Cabello and Battle Scars - Lupe Fiasco

78: How can you win my heart? Be mindful of how I truly feel, care for me like no one ever has, be a dominant

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? "I had so many battle scars from my war, but my love healed them away~”

80: What is my favorite word? Chocolate

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr @thelonewolf84 @we-are-beautiful-s0uls @britishdom

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? I don’t give a fuck what you think about who I love

83: Do I have any relatives in jail? Yeah, my bio-father

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? Invisibility

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? What my thoughts are about my ex or how I feel towards him or what I would say if I was allowed the chance to ask him 1 thing

86: What is my current desktop picture? I have it on shuffle, but currently it’s on a picture of an anime boy playing the piano in the rain

87: Had sex? Not yet ;)

88: Bought condoms? Nope

89: Gotten pregnant? Do I seriously need to answer that?

90: Failed a class? Yes.... I think

91: Kissed a boy? Not yet ;)

92: Kissed a girl? Nope

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Haven’t kissed anyone!!! Omg

94: Had job? Not yet

95: Left the house without my wallet? What wallet?

96: Bullied someone on the internet? Fuck no!

97: Had sex in public? -sigh-

98: Played on a sports team? Yep, soccer and baseball when I was 8-11

99: Smoked weed? Nope

100: Did drugs? Nope

101: Smoked cigarettes? Almost

102: Drank alcohol? Mhm

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? Fuck no! I want my bacon and kielbasa!!!

104: Been overweight? Nope

105: Been underweight? Currently am

106: Been to a wedding? Yep, my aunts

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Yes lol, longer

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? Yes lol, longer

109: Been outside my home country? Not yet

110: Gotten my heart broken? ....yes.....

111: Been to a professional sports game? I...think so....?

112: Broken a bone? Many, many times. I was very clumsy in my teens, I still am but have yet to break any bones so far

113: Cut myself? Yes and yes, to both ways

114: Been to prom? No, skipped it

115: Been in airplane? -shivers- Too scared to be in one, but I will have to when I go to England

116: Fly by helicopter? Nope

117: What concerts have I been to? None

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? Yep

119: Learned another language? Mhm, spanish

120: Wore make up? No

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18? Still a virgin.....

122: Had oral sex? Nope

123: Dyed my hair? Want to

124: Voted in a presidential election? Nope, fuck politics

125: Rode in an ambulance? Yep

126: Had a surgery? Mhm

127: Met someone famous? Nope

128: Stalked someone on a social network? Hehe....yeah lol

129: Peed outside? I don’t remember if I have or have not

130: Been fishing? Yes... My instructor ate the worms ;-;

131: Helped with charity? Yep ^^

132: Been rejected by a crush? Yep

133: Broken a mirror? Yeah

134: What do I want for birthday? Depends, which birthday? This year, Triple Chocolate Fudge cake. 2024, to be in my fiance’s arms~

#took to long #it was awesome though #love surveys #and my fiance #more of me #surveys #depressed #i got insomnia #love yall

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