So far, we’ve attempted to conquer the “standard,” first-level fuck boy; a friend with hardly any benefits; and a #SorryNotSorry boyfriend. All of these stories have had one thing in common: some sort of ongoing relationship. But what happens when he flat out refuses to continue talking to you?
The distinct smells of the campus’s main food court float around you, baking bread, frying potatoes, boiling vegetables, salty broth, and sautéd chicken among other things.
It wasn’t the best idea, waiting until after your last class to eat. Was it.
No, I’m not poking fun at you. I’m simply calling into question your choices because I can CLEARLY hear your stomach rumbling.
Thankfully, the din of dozens of conversations drown out the sounds of your protesting stomach AND the sharp breath you inhale when you see him.
“Yoongi!” his name leaves your lips with an embarrassing amount of excitement and you forcibly restrain yourself from hurdling the tables, instead haphazardly snaking around them.
At first, he doesn’t seem to notice you, attention fixed on one of his numerous friends who keeps making pitiful attempts at catching a thrown candy in his mouth. But as you get closer and call his name again, Yoongi visibly stiffens.
“Sunbae,” you skid to a stop and dip in a polite bow, bouncing back up to search his expression, purposefully using THAT word, “I thought you said you were busy after class today.”
“I AM busy.” Yoongi’s curt tone causes a couple heads to turn in your direction.
“But you said we would hang out next time you’re free and you SEEM…”
“What? Free? Well I’m not,” his dark eyes glint with irritation.
Something ugly twists in your stomach as you search for words. Thankfully, you don’t get far, “I thought-”
“Can’t you take a hint, kid? It was ONE TIME. Stop calling me, stop texting me, I don’t WANT to talk to you,” Yoongi’s voice raises in volume until ALL of his friends have turned to ogle and snigger at the conversation, only adding to the sudden avalanche of humiliation. “Get LOST.”
“Okay,” the small squeak is the only thing that can leave your dry mouth. So with the fiery sensation of about a dozen eyes drilling into the back of your skull, you flee the food court as if they had literally burned you, hunger forgotten.
The harsh chill of early winter air immediately nips at your nose, stinging your cheeks, but does nothing to numb the emotional pain.
Feet on autopilot to the parking lot, your mind is free to either to replay Yoongi’s rejection and his friends’ derisive laughter like a cruel broken record OR, probably preferably, get lost in the pleasant memories of first meeting him.
One of your older friends, a graduate student, had invited you over for a “movie-night,” assuring you that there would only be a few people, lots of snacks, and “worst case scenario” you wouldn’t have to talk to anyone if you felt uncomfortable because there would be a film to watch.
The argument that ultimately won you over, however, was her desperate plea for assistance.
She actually got down on her knees, saying, “Jinyoung is coming and you can’t leave me alone with him! What if I do something stupid?”
At first you didn’t see how you could be helpful. At all. But after a few more scrambled appeals you finally pieced together her train of thought.
“So what you’re saying is because I’m younger and won’t know anyone, keeping me company will be a great excuse to back out of anything you don’t feel comfortable doing,” you rolled your eyes, irked at the implied inferiority due to your age, but for WHATEVER reason, you agreed anyway. Such a nice doormat.
Thankfully, she hadn’t lied. The moment you arrived, you were able to pile your plate high with junk food, ignore practically everyone, and curl up on the couch. Legs tucked underneath you, body pressed as far into the cushions as possible, you attempted to make yourself scarce. Not all grad students are intimidating, snobby, and rude, but these ones definitely were. Well, at least they were feeding you?
While your friend and some of the guests debated over the movie selection, you couldn’t help but idly scan their faces, looking futilely for familiarity or even friendliness. But they all seemed to want to avoid you like the plague.
Someone entered from the kitchen and immediately, in the most ridiculously cliched way possible, your attention was drawn to him like he had your gaze on a string.
Dyed blonde hair half hidden under a black beanie framed a pale complexion, a moody expression, and a perplexingly sharp gaze, considering he looked unmistakably bored. He was wearing a red and black flannel, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, front unbuttoned to reveal a v-neck black shirt that kissed the skin just under his collar bones, and a pair of ripped black jeans. Someone clearly has a favorite color. To top it all off, he’d donned faded red converse- and despite being the only color of cloth on him that’s NOT black, it wasn’t even the same red as the flannel.
But let’s be honest, even a blind person would admit he’s attractive and there was something about his presence… an aloof cockiness that naturally, violently pulled people’s attention (namely yours) to him like gravity.
His gruff voice broke through the haze like tapping on ice, “This seat taken?”
“N-no, it’s free,” cheeks blazing, you stuttered, shifting around awkwardly, as if you needed to make room for him on the otherwise empty couch that could comfortably fit five people.
“Good,” he practically grunted, plopping down approximately in the middle of the sofa. If it had been any closer, you might have suspected he was interested in you. If it had been any further, social cues would have dictated he was definitely not. And yet there he sat. Right in the fucking middle.
Okay, yes, that last statement is me just being irritated on your behalf, but it’s not like YOU were about to set him straight.
He began to pick at the snacks on his plate absentmindedly, paying zero attention to you.
The following question flitted around in your mind like an annoying fly. If he didn’t want to talk, why ask to sit here when there were obviously other spaces available?
A greeting balanced on the edge of your tongue, but truth be told you already knew who he was. The friend who had invited you was polite enough to provide a brief description of the other prospective guests.
The last on her list had been a “Min Yoongi.”
When you asked if there was anything noteworthy about him, her only reply was, “He’s a walking trope. You’ll know him when you see him.”
If Mr. Cold Shoulder over here wasn’t the definition of “angsty young adult semi-hipster,” you would’ve just stayed quiet and minded your own business. Then again, maybe that would have been the better option because for some reason, he pulled off the stereotype perfectly and you were as vulnerable as a moth to an open flame. A bonfire sized open flame.
*Clarification: there are many types of people and obviously, some are easier to get along with or understand than others.
Step 2) Communication** is key
Talking is easy, effectively communicating is much more difficult. To get any message across, there are three components. One, you must know what you want to say. This one is relatively simple, but don’t make the mistake of being at a “loss for words.” Two, know what you want the other person to hear. Basically, what message do you want them to take away?
And lastly, but most importantly, make sure you are speaking the same “language.” I don’t mean this literally, just that it must be possible to UNDERSTAND one another.
Today, he’s decided to be gentle, probably in retribution for being so rude earlier.
Yoongi’s fingers dance at an achingly slow pace across your skin, a ballroom floor on which the couples are too caught up in the presence of each other to be attentive to the beat of the music.
You fight to keep control of your breathing, ears acutely listening for any sign that your parents have stopped watching their movie to randomly check up on you, but of course your attention falters slightly as soon as he begin toying with the hem of your skirt.
His cold digits push the material so it gathers at your hips, finger tips leaving goosebumps in their wake. You’re not entirely sure whether it’s this or the thought of his dark, licentious gaze that sends a shiver down your spine as you’re too scared to actually open your eyes and meet it directly.
Battling your own body is a difficult thing to do, but you manage to pull a shaky inhale through your nose and let it out softly between parted lips as his fingers slip past the soft cloth of your underwear.
A shudder runs through your frame as he begins an aggressively slow waltz, circling at tantalizingly delicious pace, building you higher and higher until all you can think is “fuck why isn’t he using his tongue?” before tipping over the edge, every muscle in your body clenching, falling, trembling.
Your eyelids flutter open to the emptiness of your room as you ease your ragged breathing, extracting your hand from your underwear.
I guess this takes the phrase “dancing with myself” to a whole new level, huh? Sorry, the joke was there and I just- okay back to the story.
It’s not half as pleasant as when Yoongi was ACTUALLY with you, but at this point, it’s not like you can help it.
Waddling to the bathroom due to the sensitivity, you drown the last of the evidence of your little imaginary adventure in a warm cascade of water. Once your bedroom door is safely between you and your parents again, you decide to check your phone.
Still nothing, but do you really expect more? After humiliating you earlier this afternoon, maybe you DO expect an apology, but Yoongi has NEVER been the type to text back. Ever. It’s unfair, really, that he seems so detached from what you thought was a strong connection- but maybe that’s just you being oblivious and far too trusting.
As your friend finished setting up the movie and continued mingling, you sat in relatively close (yet also far) proximity to Yoongi, physically unable to tear your gaze away from him, and a grand total of seven minutes passed before he said another word to you. These came in the form of an absolutely worth waiting for, mind blowing question, “Are you going to finish those?”
He loosely gestured to the pile of sweet cakes on your plate, which you WERE fully intending on finishing, but how could you say no to a cute guy?
“No! Do you want some?”
Well, I mean I GUESS that works.
Yoongi said nothing as he relieved you of the snacks, but he did give you an excuse to start talking to him, “So… Yoongi, right?”
Pulse thundering, you waited for a few seconds, unsure whether or not he would ask for your name. Of course, he didn’t, so you tried again, “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, sunbae.”
Yes, you tacked on the honorific, hoping it would get his attention. It did.
“That’s nice,” Yoongi finally looked at you again, one of his eyebrows popping in curiosity, the corners of his lips quirking almost imperceptibly upward, and was it just me or did he get slightly closer? “Like what? There aren’t a lot of good things to say.”
For some reason, his words caused a small, pleasant tightening in your stomach.
“Well she was right. You’re kind of attractive,” you shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, lying with ease in a desperate attempt to keep his attention, because your friend had said absolutely nothing of the sort.
“Kind of?” Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in challenge, but this time I’m SURE he DID get the tiniest bit closer.
“Kind of,” you agreed, toying coyly with a lock of your hair, letting out a giggle.
He let out a displeasured hum, turning his attention back to his plate. The loss hit you squarely in the chest like Yoongi had actually punched you, and you couldn’t help but scramble to maintain the conversation.
Desperately, you reached back for the thing that originally got a reaction from him, the honorific, “Does that mean you disagree, sunbae?”
You’re still not exactly sure how, but less than fifteen minutes later, you found yourself with your back pressed against the bathroom’s cold tile floor, being pounded into sweet oblivion. The two of you spent more time going at it than you did talking, but I’m not here to judge you.
His subtle charismatic gravity must have blinded you to the usual red flags: the relatively short time since you met, the place in which he chose to do the deed, and let’s not forget the fact that he didn’t even know your name. (He probably still doesn’t).
But you KNEW what kind of silent agreement you had made when he let his hand rest casually yet suggestively on your knee. You KNEW that you were as inconsequential to him as the room in which he fucked you.
And you knew how terribly infatuated you were, but who cares about consequences, right?
**Definition: COMMUNICATION (noun)- the successful conveying or sharing of ideas and feelings
Step 3) Know when to cut your losses***
Sometimes, people ARE lost causes. By this volume, you’ve no doubt figured that out. And as a friend of mine once said, “You can’t fix a fuckboy, you can only hope that they heal from whatever wound they have in their hearts.”
You had been…unfortunate enough to receive his contact information from the friend who invited you to the movie night.
So two missed calls and fifteen unanswered, left on “read” texts later, you’re humiliated to say the least. It’s only been five days since meeting him, not even a full WEEK, and you’re already a mess.
Couldn’t he at least have the decency to let you down in person? Oh wait, he DID do that.
A sad tingle runs from your heart to your fingertips- well less of a tingle and more of a numbness and your feet seem heavier than normal as you traverse the length of the campus, emotionally exhausted and simply ready to go home. Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to avoid-
Your eyes lock on his familiar figure instantly.
Life can’t even keep its foot out of your ass for a single DAY?
Yoongi is sitting with his friends again, crowded around a table outside of the Natural Sciences Hall, but this time you’ve learned your lesson. There’s NO way you would ever even THINK of approaching-
“Hey Yoongi, isn’t that the girl from yesterday?” with an outburst of obnoxious laughter, the boy who had been trying to catch candy in his mouth points at you.
Aaaaaand now you’re approaching.
“Yeah, that’s her alright,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, an action that pierces you right through the core.
Your determined march skids to a rather ungraceful halt as you fight your own body to stand tall instead of tremble before him. His friends watch you with various levels of disinterest, but your attention is solely on Yoongi in his all-black, homeless hipster getup, this time only accented by those faded red converse.
He picks idly at invisible lint on his overcoat, avoiding eye contact, but of course this does not deter you from saying, “I get it. You think I’m just some desperate little girl who can’t take a hint.”
Did you REALLY just quote him?What is this? A kdrama? Are you now going to get up on your soap box and tell him all about how “wrong” he is-? Sorry! Sorry. I’ll stop. This is about you, not me.
After a few, excruciatingly long seconds tick by, Yoongi gives the DEEPEST, most fed up, award winning sigh you’ve ever heard before slowly coming to the realization that you AREN’T leaving. He rolls his gaze to you, “Am I wrong in thinking that?”
Your cheeks immediately flush in indignation, the intoxicating nature of his presence making it difficult to speak- not to mention think of a good comeback.
The answer that comes out of your mouth is a shaky, “Yes.”
Yoongi scoffs, voice raspy and tone demeaning, “Is that so?”
***Elaboration: Sometimes, losses can also be classified as gains. It simply depends on how you frame it in your mind. Mistakes can be learned from. The only true failure is the self-denial of growth.
Step 4) Give up**** and realize he’ll never change
“Yes,” you affirm with more surety than you knew you were capable of possessing at the moment. “Because I realized something.”
You have no idea where these words are coming from, but as he quirks an eyebrow at you, they seem to bubble up from a place of rising confidence, a place of a heightened sense self worth.
Maybe you finally understand that you have more value than that plate of shit he’s been offering. Maybe you have a single moment of clarity in which your head surfaces from above the murky waters of his gravitational pull.
Or maybe… you’ve just finally decided to start listening to me?
“We wouldn’t work out anyway,” you tell him with a small smile, “You’re clearly out of my league but honestly, I’m glad you’re comfortable enough with your self image to lower your standards. That takes some REAL character… but also some desperation, no? Maybe you should try and hide it a bit better just so other girls and your friends don’t find out about your LITTLE problem- oops, sorry, SUNBAE. See you around!”
You did NOT just use that dominance kink against him. SLAY, GURL, SLAY.
Yes, it had taken a moment of self deprecation, but to you, it was worth the fatal plummet of Yoongi’s ego from smug agreement to humiliated despair.
With a quick bow, you scurry away to the invigorating soundtrack of his friends’ mocking laughter and the beginnings of a heated interrogation as to the meaning of your “little problem” comment.
Ultimately, he fended off your advances like a pro fuckboy, earning his “no strings attached” and “heart breaker” badge, but damn it will take him a while to smooth that one over.
So he may have “won,” but in my book, YOU are the WINNER.
****Correction: sometimes, persistence DOES pay off.
A/N: I KNOW I KNOW THIS TOOK FOREVER. I just hated the first couple of drafts that came out and was so uninspired that it took the precious bb @roseok to finally get things in gear again. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoyed!
Quick question: Did you like the interaction between the protagonist and the narrator?
Just his stupid desk floating off into space. AH yes my true life goal has come true. Everyone shall fear the power of my organizational desk skills, until he knocks off his pencil cup and all his favorite pencils just float off. Help soundwave come in we got a situation. I’ve lost all my favorite pencils with the colored lead in them. How am I suppose to organize my enemies demise without my color coordinating diagrams.
I feel like SM should have allowed vampires to have some imperfections - like some scars and tattoos especially tattoos as some have cultural significance and are a part of what defines them or their cultural etc. I also didn't like the fact that regardless of ethnicity, a vampire's skin will be exceptionally pale and I never agreed with that at all. So what are your thoughts about it?
Totally agree. Those “imperfections” are often identifying/defining traits for people. I have a chicken pox scar in the middle of my forehead, I wouldn’t look like “me” without it. Same for the beauty mark under my right eye. These things would be erased in the vampire transformation and that would be almost as weird as losing my eye color.
And WORD on the pale = white thing. That’s from the Guide and it’s so … icky. I try to give SM the benefit of the doubt, but that’s just … ugh. Apparently people have seen parallels to certain parts of the Book of Mormon. There’s a phrase “white and delightsome” I see referenced a lot. But I don’t know enough about the Book of Mormon to speak definitively on this topic so take all that with a grain of salt. I usually see those comparisons on anti-Twilight posts and I don’t know the larger context, but there seems to be this white skin = good theme and that might have been a (subconscious?) influence.
The guide says that the transformation leeches all pigment from the skin, making it literally white (white the color versus “white” = light-skinned), with people who had darker skintones in life retaining just a “slight olive tone”. And that’s… messed up. I’m usually a canon purist, but I stick my fingers in my ears and go LALALALA and ignore that junk because, yuck. I think the movies handled it better. The Breaking Dawn movies didn’t seem to really change the POC vampire’s skintones much at all, and in New Moon you can see that Laurent looks ‘pale’ in the sense of sickly/dead rather than “white,” which is logically how you would think it would work with an undead vampire with no circulation.
Although in some really old vampire myths, it was the opposite. A sure sign that a recently-deceased friend, neighbor or loved one had become a vampire was digging up their grave and seeing them with a ruddy (red) complexion, like their cheeks were flushed. This was attributed to their blood-drinking.
Something to note about Halo and the Red vs Blue Timeline based A: on the fact that Reconstruction takes place ‘Post War Year One’ and B: Alpha-Church as been at Outpost 48-A for “fourteen months”.
October 2552 - Great Schism, Sangheili-Human alliance formed.
Sangheili begin to turn their backs on the Covenant, dissension in the ranks.
Tex takes Junior and crashes in Valhalla. Think Omega was dormant for a while?
At this point Junior escapes with the Green Alien. Either way, both are probably captured by Project Freelancer because Tucker is reunited with Junior and reassigned to diplomatic negotiations and still reports in to PF Command (479er?). Likely because the Schism has opened up the possibility of human-alien negotiations.
BGC reassigned to Rats Nest and Outpost 48-A.
December 2252 - Covenant-Human War ends.
March 2253 - Hostilities officially end.
December 2253 - Post War Year One
Project Freelancer recovery teams are sent to Valhalla where The Meta kills them and subsequent teams are sent in to investigate. They recover one survivor and Wash is sent out to find the 'experts’ on Omega’s possession behavior.
Wash reassembles the Blue Team and Alpha says he’s been at Outpost 48-A for “fourteen months."
It’s interesting to note that the given time markers in the show would indicate that Junior being a messiah figure for a minority anti-Covenant religious movement would have, actually, been quite significant at the time. Fourteen months prior to Season 6 – around October of 2552 – the Great Schism was happening. That’s the event in the Halo timeline wherein the Sangheili turned their backs on the Covenant and began to pursue their own beliefs and form a truce with humanity.
Junior and Tucker were sent as diplomats to the Sangheili Separatist faction on Sanheilios specifically because his arrival would be seen as a sign that the Sangeheili choice to revoke the Covenant was just. Imagine that Junior and Tucker were one of the grassroots symbols used by the Seperatists to encourage the alliance between Humans and the Sangheili that eventually ended the war.
Imagine Junior and Tucker accidentally helped stop the whole fucking war just by showing up and talking and then imagine that when Sarge says "a whole alien race chose you to be their savior” that’s actually a true statement and then imagine that Junior is out there somewhere continuing his work encouraging the Sangheili people toward inter-species diplomacy.
Imagine Tucker is pretty proud and downplays this the whole damn time.
Hi, you may know me. You may not, my name is Roz! I’m 16 and I’m always lurking around on the internet trying to find study tips and hacks to make studying easier for a lazy bum like me. I’ve had my studyblr for about 2 years, so believe me when I tell you that I’ve picked up a thing or two, okay?
Born into the life of a concubine under Emperor Zhengde, Shao spent much of her early life travailing with the emperor on his expensive trips throughout the world. However, after Zhengde’s death during an attack in the palace Shao and other concubines were rescued and freed by the Brotherhood of Assassins. Feeling drawn to the assassin ideals and a loyalty to her rescuers Shao joined their ranks and quickly became a talented student. But years after her flight from the palace Zhengde’s successor Jiajing (a Templar ally) ordered that the assassins be rooted out and purged. Shao and her master managed to flee west, in order to contact the legendary assassin Ezio Auditore. Shao made it there alone however, her master being slain by Jiajing’s men in Venice. Shao learned much from Auditore, but she took her leave of him weeks later, setting for her home once again. Determined to rebuild her order and rid the land of Templar rule.