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chromietriestowrite · 1 year ago

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I love your story so muuuuch ! I keep reading it again and again and it's amazing every time 🥰

You write so beautifully, it's incredible ❤️

Thank you for sharing that story ☀️

To Be Loved - 01

Here's where she meets prince charming.

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 5.2k ⤑ warnings: DEPICTIONS OF READER IN A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP (i.e, manipulation, domestic/verbal abuse, threats, degradation, violence toward reader), bullying toward reader, the "gaston" character is a straight-up asshole lmao, hyrbids are treated as second-class humans, description of bodily harm, sexual harassments, minor violence, based off 2013 namjoon in this chapter lol. please be mindful of the warnings!!⤑ note: happy birthday, namjoon!! while i was taking a break from magic shop, i've been working on a couple other projects and i finally finished one. it's truly a coincidence that i completed this story today lol. this story is loosely based off beauty & the beast but with hybrids.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

It was a dark and stormy night.

Flickering fluorescent lights. The heat of the jeering crowd. Grey concrete in the old warehouse. Speakers reverberating a deep bass that fills the room. Thunder is drowned out as two amateur rappers spit lines on the small stage, eliciting reactions from the audience before them.

One of the contestant’s attention drifts to the crowd until he makes eye contact with you. It seems like he was looking for you. The moment you raise your hand to offer a tiny, half-hearted wave, the corners of his lips tug to a haughty smirk. Then, with the microphone to his lips, he puffs out his chest, turns back to his opponent, and begins rapping.

You’re less than impressed when he finishes his turn and is declared the winner of the round.

To be fair, however, this isn’t your scene. It’s too loud. Too rowdy.

If it were up to you, you’d be at home. Safe and cozy in your warm bed, curled up to a good book or movie. Initially, you didn’t even want to come, complaining that the weather is awful, the venue is too small, the floors are sticky, and that there are too many people.

But he insisted that you come tonight. For him.

One of his friends has her arm linked with yours, anchoring you to her. Her eyes are bright with excitement as she screams in your ear, “Fighting! Kangdae!”

The one you’re all here to see stands on the stage, relishing in the audience’s attention. There’s a smug look on his face when he meets your gaze, as if checking to see if you’re just as impressed with his performance as the rest of the audience is.

Politely, you clap your hands, not quite sure what the etiquette for these types of things are.

The host continues to rile up the crowd, daring any of the other contestants to step forward and challenge Kangdae.

No one does.

Except for one.

Silence follows as a lanky, tall contestant comes onstage. One that no one has heard from yet. Sunglasses cover his eyes, but you can make out some of his predominant features: his full lips, the deep dimples in his shy smile, his tanned skin.

“Okay, kid,” the host says, intrigued. “Show us what you got.”

The kid is handed a mic. Kangdae looks him up and down and scoffs.

The difference between the two is telling.

Kangdae lives for the attention, wildly gesturing and getting into his opponent’s face. He encourages the crowd to cheer him on like that. Their hoots and hollering pumps the adrenaline in his veins as he verbally attacks the guy ballsy enough to challenge him.

His opponent, to your surprise, stands quietly as he’s thrown insult after insult. Then, when it’s his turn, the room falls in awe. His flow makes him sound professional, even though he sounds quite young. You’re impressed with his wordplay, how he keeps up with the rhythm, how he delivers the lines.

He’s by far your favorite of all the ones you’ve heard tonight.

There’s a clear winner after the boy with sunglasses is done, though rather than shove his victory at his opponent’s face, he holds out his hand to Kangdae and offers a dimpled smile.

Rap Monster.

That’s what they call him.

And as Kangdae bitterly shakes his hand, stunned at the turn of events, you’re beginning to see why they call him that.

In your small, provincial town, Kangdae has it all. He’s a handsome young man, athletic and popular. His family is well-off; so much so that he can indulge in expensive clothing brands, own the newest models and gadgets, and party every weekend at some bougie club or resort. Guys look up to him. Girls are in love with him. He lives off the attention and praise from his big circle of friends.

And yet, for whatever shallow reason, he seems fixated on you.

Unlike Kangdae, you hate being in the spotlight. It makes you shy. It makes you feel nervous. You tend to keep to yourself because of that, reading books or watching animal videos on your phone. You feel like you hardly have any friends in the town.

Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, Kangdae declares he wants you to be his girl.

And suddenly, you’re on everybody’s radar.

Why would someone so brilliant and outgoing even be interested in a boring and quiet person like you?

That’s a question even you often wonder.

Finding the answers to that, however, becomes unwarranted.

People start to talk to you. People you’ve never spoken to before suddenly act friendly toward you. People who’ve never spared you a glance suddenly want to know all your dirty secrets. People who don’t even know you begin to spread rumors.

“The whole town already knows you’re my girl,” Kangdae tells you one day, while you’re sitting on the steps of your house, eyes red from tears of a recent bullying incident. He doesn’t seem to care about that though. In fact, you’re certain he’s even laughed about it at your expense. “Why don’t we just make it official? You’re not dating anyone, are you?”

“Are you even attracted to me?” you ask him seriously.

He shrugs. “Yeah, you’re hot. I heard quiet girls can get quite freaky too.”

“No way,” you cut in, repulsed by his insinuation. You stand on your feet, turning to go inside. “I’ll never–”

Before you could open the door, you’re suddenly shoved against it. Kangdae towers over you, anger burning in his eyes. He’s never been rejected. He always gets his way.

It’s something you learn the hard way.

“Then I’ll make sure your life continues to be a living hell,” he threatens before he releases you.

More than before, unwanted attention is thrown at you. As soon as you enter the classroom, people stare and sneer. You hear them whisper about you in the hallways. You’re confronted in small groups. Accusations that you think you’re too good to be dating someone like Kangdae. How there must be something wrong with you.

In the eyes of many, Kangdae is perfect. Objectively handsome. Popular among his peers. Comes from money. All the guys you know want to be him. All the girls you know want to be with him. What makes a nobody like you think that you can do better?

You hardly had any friends in the town, but not once have you ever felt this isolated. You’ve never felt this singled-out. It feels like the whole world is against you.

You can’t take it.

“Kangdae,” you call out to him, stopping as he’s about to head to the field. He’s dressed in his sports uniform, about to go into a match against another school. “One date.”

A Cheshire smile spreads across his face. “I knew you wouldn’t resist, babe.”

You try not to cringe when he plants a wet kiss on your cheek.

Maybe you’re naïve. But maybe that’s why Kangdae is after you.

You’re quiet, soft-spoken, and incredibly shy. You don’t have a lot of friends, and you haven’t had a serious relationship before him. You don’t know anything about what love really is. Yet, despite what an odd loner you are, you’re a beautiful girl. Innocent and loyal to a fault. An easy target for Kangdae to walk all over.

With his hand around your waist, you feel like an accessory. Before you ever considered dating him, he already declared you as his girlfriend, telling even strangers that he passed by that you would one day be his.

“Right from the moment I saw you, I think I fell in love,” he admits on your first date, taking you to a nice, upscale restaurant. It’s different from anything you’ve experienced in your small town. The menu items are so expensive, it doesn't list pricing, and each course that is presented at your table is like a work of art.

What’s most interesting about this restaurant, however, isn’t just the food. But the staff.

Gorgeous women in white blouses and black skirts that show off their voluptuous curves and long legs. Poking at the back of the skirts are tails. And on their heads are pairs of animal ears. Some of them have stripes or spots on their skin, some have nails as sharp as claws, and some have unique eyes like cats and reptiles.

Hybrids.

Neither human, nor animal. But something in-between.

In your town, coming across them is rare but not unheard of. They usually dwell in the cities, where sanctuaries housing them are. Some are adopted into families or are hired to do difficult and dirty work with an employer willing to work with them. But most aren’t as lucky, and are treated as sub-human. Worse than how some people care for their beloved cat or dog.

“What makes you say that?” you ask Kangdae as a bunny hybrid brings out the next course. She, like the other hybrids, is quite beautiful.

“Because you’re gorgeous,” he simply states as he sips on some liquor. Then, suddenly, he smacks the hybrid’s ass. “Hey, isn’t my girlfriend gorgeous?”

“Kangdae!”

“Yes, sir,” the hybrid quickly answers before practically running away from the table. You feel awful, but Kangdae cackles as if it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen all evening.

“Babe, don’t be mad. She’s just a hybrid.”

One date turns into another. He showers you with expensive gifts, and takes you out to luxurious places. Sometimes, it’s nice. You never imagined you’d be leaning against the railing of a yacht, feeling the salt air against your skin as the boat cruises through deep blue waters. Or fine dining at rooftop restaurants in the big cities with a breathtaking view of the skylines.

You find yourself watching underground rap contests, and witnessing the skill and poetry of a particular contestant that caught your attention once. A tall boy with a thick pair of sunglasses and a dimpled smile.

Other times, it can feel overwhelming. Like you’re undeserving all the things that he bombards you with, and you owe it to him for one more date. One more party he wants you to come with him too. One more ‘this is the last time’ before he asks you again.

He introduces you to his friends, showing you off to them despite how out of place you feel among them. He texts and calls you all the time, wanting to know where you are and who you’re with, and letting you know that he’s thinking about you in persistent, long messages. He posts about you on his social media, calling you his girl, as engagements of likes, views, and comments fill underneath it.

People tell you all the time that you’re lucky though.

Of all the girls he could’ve been with, he picked you. Someone handsome, rich, and popular fell in love at first sight with a boring, quiet, lonely girl like you.

And maybe that’s why you stay. Who else would love you if not him?

Next week, you find yourself in the same, abandoned warehouse. Another night, another show. Another chance for Kangdae to redeem himself.

One thing about him is that he hates to lose. His pride just wouldn’t allow it.

Yet, once again, he doesn’t stand a chance.

This time, Rap Monster seems to be the crowd favorite. Everyone cheers for him once he steps onstage, wearing the same dark sunglasses over his eyes. He seems a bit more confident as he raps, his flow and rhythm even better than last week.

You feel like a fan as you and your group stand close to the stage. Although you’re supposed to be there for Kangdae, you can’t help but cheer his opponent on. Your heart jumps when you see Rap Monster catch your eye and give you a dimpled smile, bowing like a prince when he ends his round.

A shift can be felt once it’s Kangdae’s turn with the mic. People in your group and some of the audience make some noise, but the majority of strangers in the crowd are merely nodding along or quietly listening.

Until the first heckle comes. Followed by someone else yelling at him to get off the stage.

Mean laughter fills the room, and you almost feel bad for Kangdae.

Had it not been for what he does next.

Gasps and exclamations of shock are followed when he suddenly punches Rap Monster.

“Hey, no! You can’t do that shit!” the host yells as the security guards make haste to handle the situation. They pull Kangdae away, trying to de-escalate, but it’s too late. The crowd gets riled up, shouting and egging him on. Two men have to hold Kangdae down, but he’s strong. He nearly manages to break free and get to Rap Monster’s face a couple times. Rap Monster’s sunglasses are knocked off, and he’s holding his face with one hand, covering an eye.

Because when he opens the other one… it looks strange.

It doesn’t look human.

A couple people up front scream in terror as they point at him. “A monster!”

“He’s one of them!” another shouts in disgust. “He’s a hybrid!”

Suddenly, the room seems to quiet down as they all look at him, stunned, horrified, disgusted. You could see him trying to hide his face as the host snaps at him, “This event is for humans only!”

The sunglasses have fallen near you, and without thinking, you quickly grab them and climb onto the stage. You don’t know what’s gotten over you. You hate attention. You hate being in the spotlight. You’re often shy and insecure, and always stay in your lane.

But you have to help.

“Here,” you tell him gently, pushing the broken sunglasses toward his hand. Up this close, you feel so small standing next to him. “You should get out of here.”

He nods his head and takes them from you, seeming grateful and a little scared. His eyes look reptilian like a serpent, but they’re pretty. You feel like you can’t forget them.

In the innermost area of the iris, near his slightly vertical pupil, is a hint of warm brown, but the rest is a mix of deep blue and purple. The color of indigo.

“Get away from her, you beast,” Kangdae commands, but Rap Monster is already walking away from the stage. Away from you.

Somehow, the rain outside seems to pour harder as he leaves.

It’s been years since that night.

Kangdae seemed over it, wanting to chase his fifteen minutes of fame elsewhere. And while you were interested in one of the rappers, you aren’t keen enough to keep going back. It isn’t like that Rap Monster would be welcomed at the future showings anyway.

However, you start listening to hip-hop music more than other genres these days. Secretly hoping that, if you’re to meet him again, maybe the two of you could talk about some of the artists you like. Books that you’ve read, movies you’ve seen.

But you haven’t seen him since.

You end up working for Kangdae’s family. In such a small, provincial town, there isn’t much of an option. His family seems to own and have connections to everything.

To the point where even your family tells you how lucky you are. Kangdae is a catch. Marrying him would guarantee a well-off life with someone objectively handsome, who thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, who you’d be out of your mind to leave or break things off with.

Although your father and your siblings mean well, you could only nod in defeat. You can’t bear to tell them how miserable you are with Kangdae.

The same man who tells you you’re the one for him, but flirts with other women in front of you. Who gets angry over little things and takes it out on you, screaming at your face, throwing things that nearly hit you, punching holes in walls and doors, or leaving you confused and worried for days without a word until he finally decides to come back. He’d shower you with expensive gifts and affection to make up for it, but his sweeter side never stays long before the cycle repeats.

And you can’t seem to find your way out of it.

The constant pressure to be with Kangdae has you wishing you could just disappear from the town. To run away from it all and never go back.

But you’re a coward, and you don’t know where else to go. Everyone in town likes Kangdae, and even your family wouldn’t believe what a monster he really is.

In the apartment you share with him, it’s dark and empty. Empty bottles of soju and beer are on the coffee table, dirty dishes are in the sink for you to clean, there’s still a gaping hole in the pantry from an argument a couple weeks ago that hasn’t been fixed. But Kangdae’s shoes aren’t by the door, and you don’t imagine he’d be back anytime soon.

With a quiet, defeated sigh, you take off your shoes and your coat, place your purse down, and begin cleaning up the mess. You go through the motions of it, exhausted from work, from having more to do once you get home, and as you gather the bottles, you see that he’s placed some on top of a book.

A fairy tale story about a far-off place, daring sword fights, and a prince in disguise.

It’s your favorite. The local librarian gave it to you as a gift, and Kangdae is using it as a coaster. And one of the half-empty bottles has spilled over, soaking through the pages.

Angry, you drop the bag on the ground, letting the bottles clatter against each other, and pick up the book, trying to salvage the ruined cover. But rings of liquid stain the front, and the pages are wrinkled from the liquid, blurring the texts so they’re unreadable.

Even before, the book is already a bit worn-out when it was gifted to you, but it still makes you want to cry. Kangdae doesn’t seem to care about you at all anymore.

How much longer are you going to put up with this? Shouldn’t you deserve your own happiness? Shouldn’t you deserve to be loved?

You have to leave him. You don’t know when. You don’t know how. But you have to.

That much you know.

Your plans are foiled by a single question.

“Will you marry me?”

Horror strikes your face. Down on one knee before you is Kangdae with a beautiful diamond ring. You could feel every person in the room staring at you, waiting for an answer. All his friends, your family, and even random strangers at the venue are gathered unexpectedly and witnessing his proposal. Wide smiles and excited looks surround you, as if they already know you’ll say yes.

Do you want to say yes?

Are you going to tell him no? In front of all these people?

“Kangdae, I—” you start to say, your voice trembling. You could feel the pressure weighed upon you, setting you close to a panic.

Your boyfriend doesn’t notice how uncomfortable you are. He’s busy flashing a bright, charming smile at the anticipating crowd for his big moment. His smile starts to falter when you take too long to respond.

Behind the smile, you could almost sense it. The heat of his anger.

You have to say something. You have to decide.

You have to tell him no.

“I…” you begin again. Your gaze catches Kangdae’s family, and how they nod their head, encouraging you to continue. Your voice is very soft and almost defeated when you say, “Okay.”

“Yes? You’re saying yes?” Kangdae exclaims loudly as the people around cheer and clap. You even see some girls start to burst into tears. Girls you know Kangdae frequently talk to. Your family seems relieved, worried that you’d reject him, that you’d shame and humiliate them with your refusal.

But it’s when you look at Kangdae’s family where your blood runs cold. They whisper to each other and nod, gauging the reaction of those witnessing the proposal. It feels like they’re in a business merger, and it occurs to you that maybe, to them, it is one.

You feel numb as Kangdae pulls you into a kiss and a tight embrace.

You’re engaged now.

And it makes you want to throw up.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Kangdae whines, trying to pull you closer to him. “Why are you upset? We’re engaged now!”

“Is it because you want to marry me? Or because your family made you?”

He scoffs. “What are you saying?”

It’s been years since the two of you have been together. Years of you being compliant, years of you arguing behind closed doors, of you silently suffering and hoping that things will get better. That, perhaps, one day you could convince yourself that he’ll change his ways. That he'll love you.

Perhaps in front of your family and friends, the two of you act like a happy couple.

You’re the girlfriend he brags about. Arm candy that he can show off because you’re the prettiest girl in town. Someone that his parents approve of, and often question when he’ll pop the question to you. A question, you suspect, puts his inheritance on the line if he hadn’t proposed so soon.

“Kangdae, do you even love me?”

Kangdae laughs. It’s a dark, biting chuckle that makes your skin crawl. “For a pretty girl, you sure say a lot of stupid shit. What kind of fucking question is that?”

Your mouth snaps shut. Until he snaps at you to answer him. “Kangdae, I…”

“Didn’t I propose to you? What more do you want, huh?”

“I��m sorry—”

“Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be with a guy like me? I spent so much money on you! I buy you nice things. I take you to beautiful places. I’ve helped you get a job at my parents’ company. I’ve bought you a home. And this is how you repay me?”

“Kangdae, please, just hear me out,” you plead, but the guilt and fear are already eating at you. It’s true that he’s provided you with so much. Are you being foolish? Ungrateful?

“Don’t forget, stupid bitch,” he threatens, his voice low as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his grip. “You will be my wife. You’re nothing without me. I will make your life a living hell. If you think this is the worst, then you’ve seen nothing yet.”

He storms out.

And as the door slams shut, you slowly sink to the floor, trembling as his words of a very bleak future run through your head. Crying in misery and frustration that you, once again, couldn’t stand up for yourself. That you still feel too scared to just leave him and all you know behind. That his anger and selfishness will continue to wear you down.

That, soon, you’ll be married to a monster.

It’s after a long day at work when you see Kangdae again. However, he isn’t alone.

“What’s going on? What is this?”

You frown at the sight before you. Kangdae is on the couch, and kneeling by his feet and wrapped in a ribbon is a young man.

No, a hybrid. A bunny hybrid.

He’s very muscular, with bruises and scratches covering his golden skin. His hair is dark, matching the long, black ears on his head. And his eyes are big, round, and full of fear as he stares back at you.

“Don’t you like him? Watched him in a fight last night. He’s pretty tough for a bunny, but lost in the final round. His owner was pissed! Nearly knocked him out himself!” Kangdae cackles with laughter, seeming to have found it amusing. "But babe, remember our first date? Remember those hybrid servers you kept staring at?”

“Yes,” you reply with a frown, not really sure what he’s getting at. What do they have to do with the bunny hybrid currently in your living room?

“I convinced the owner to let me borrow his hybrid for the night. As an apology gift,” he states with a proud smile. “Had to fork up a lot of money, but the guy wasn’t too pleased about his prized fighter losing the match anyway.”

“I-I’m not… he’s…” You’re at a loss of words. How could he explain this to you so casually?

“I wanted to make it up to you, babe. Girls dig shit like this, right? Owner kept bragging on and on about how obedient he is and how much stamina he has.” Kangdae can see you’re not into the idea and comes up to you, touching your arm. “I don’t mind. I’d love to watch. Hell, I might even invite the girls over to give him a try.”

“Stop. You’re disgusting.”

How could he think you’d be okay with this? How could anyone?

Hybrids often get treated like pets, but they’re still human.

“Ungrateful cunt. Can't you see I’m trying to do something nice for you?!” Kangdae roars, and you feel the sting on your face before it registers what happened. He just slapped you.

You’re still in shock and a bit of pain as he grabs his car keys and a jacket. You cradle your cheek as you numbly ask, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a drink. Don’t wait up for me.” He slams the door on his way out. You blink back the tears as a deafening silence follows the roar of his engine, the squeals of his tires as he takes off.

Is this all your fault again? Are you being ungrateful?

No, no. Kangdae is the one taking things too far. And you’re so fed up with it.

You've always been afraid to speak up for yourself. You’ve always been a coward, and wanted to play things safe. You’ve always let him walk all over you. You could never save yourself from such a miserable situation.

You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts, you almost forgot you aren’t alone. The sound of rustling catches your attention, and you see the bunny hybrid trying to unravel himself from the ribbon binding him.

“I can help you,” you offer, and he flinches at your voice. You soften your tone and try again. “Would you let me? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

He thinks about it for a moment, glancing at you with suspicion and weariness. But he nods his head. Despite how bruised up he is, he probably figures he could overpower you if you really intended to harm him.

The two of you are silent as you untie the long ribbon from his wrists and slip it off his torso. But being this close to him also gives you a good view on all the cuts and sores he received from the fight.

Your heart sinks for him. Not only is it highly illegal, but this one is a prey. They’re not supposed to fight in the first place.

“Wait here,” you tell him once he’s free from the bondage. He rubs his wrist, but continues to sit on the floor. Nothing is really stopping him from leaving on his own, so you hurry to find a first-aid kit.

When you return to the living room, the bunny hybrid is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch from his spot. He eyes the little box in your hands, seeming to recognize it.

“I think this should help with some of your wounds. Is it okay if I help you with this too?”

This time, he nods his head more eagerly.

Again, a silence falls between you two. But it isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve been in the presence of someone else and the silence felt natural. Every now and then, you’d give him a head’s up about the sting of a topical spray or ask him if the bandage you’re wrapping around him is too tight. And he watches you the whole time, nodding and shaking his head when prompted, seeming used to this. You wonder how often he has to treat his own wounds after being thrown in battle.

The silence is cut when his stomach growls loudly. He looks incredibly embarrassed as you offer a small smile. “I have some food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Let me just finish doing this.”

It doesn’t take too much time at all to treat his wounds and wrap fresh bandages on his injuries. You’ve only encountered hybrids a couple times, so you’re not entirely sure what he’d like to eat. You assume fruits and vegetables, but would that be enough?

You start to pull them out and you’re startled when you see the hybrid standing over your shoulder. You see him eyeing a jar of kimchi and take that out as well.

“Does kimchi fried rice sound good to you?” you ask him, and he nods his head more excitedly. His eyes look brighter too, as if you guessed exactly what he’s craving.

Endeared, you begin to get to work. You pull out the leftover rice, sauces, and the ingredients needed to cook it. The hybrid watches as you chop the vegetables and first cook out the onions before adding in the other vegetables and rice. In another pan, you fry a couple eggs to serve over the rice, and sprinkle some toppings of sesame seeds, nori, and sliced green onion. You ransack your fridge for some side dishes you could pair it with, serving some yellow pickled radishes, pickled cucumbers, and seaweed salad in small bowls.

The hybrid watches with big, round eyes and a jittering leg as you set the food before him. You tell him to eat and you barely take a bite of your own dish before he picks up his bowl and devours it like he hasn’t eaten in days. His brows are furrowed and he starts huffing, but he’s quick to grab the side dish closest to him and cleans that as well.

“Is it good?” you ask him tentatively.

He gives a brief nod, mouth too full to answer, and fills his bowl with seconds.

“I’m glad. I would’ve made more if I had known you’d be this hungry,” you tell him, heart full just seeing him eat well.

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and you don’t want him to be sent back to his owner. You don’t want him to be put in another dangerous and exploiting situation.

“I’m sorry about him. That guy that was here earlier,” you begin. You’ve barely eaten, but you push your share toward him. “He’s not a nice person.”

The bowl he takes from you covers his face, but his ears twitch toward you. They show that he’s listening to you.

“Your owner isn’t a nice person either, huh?”

The hybrid freezes at the mention of his owner. He lowers the bowl a little and he looks terrified. For the first time, he speaks to you. His word is barely a whisper. “Don’t…”

This time, your eyes widen. “What?”

“Please…” he begs, putting the bowl down. Grains of rice stick around his mouth as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t let me go back to him. Please help me.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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chromietriestowrite · 1 year ago

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Relate

Daydreaming about my book:

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chromietriestowrite · 1 year ago

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Wildflower | KNJ

Pairing : Namjoon x gn!reader

Genre : fluff, slice of life, husband!namjoon, non-idol!au

Summary : On a beautiful Sunday morning, you and your husband pick out flowers to make crowns.

Word count : 2.6k

a/n : fluffy comfort drabble. Namjoon is adorable. This is my first BTS fic. English is not my first language. Enjoy !

You woke up to the feeling of the sun warming up your skin. Your eyes fluttered open as you welcomed the morning light seeping through the white curtains. You smiled listening to the soft breaths of the man behind you, holding you delicately, an arm draped over you, hand resting on your lower stomach.

You turned to face your sleeping husband, moving quietly so as to not wake him and took the time to admire him. How his soft obsidian hair fell over his closed eyes, long eyelashes delicately kissing his cheeks. How the sun shined on his tan skin. With fondness, your eyes traced the line of his long charming nose, stopping at its cute little button. Your eyes followed down to his soft supple lips, waiting to be kissed.

As he slept, his breathing even, you could see a small smile crawling its way on his face, which made his adorable dimples appear. It warmed your heart, the love you had for him beaming out of you as you watched him sleep peacefully.

You finally got up, put on your favourite fluffy pyjamas and headed to the small kitchen.

Your cottage was a simple one, made of one main room separated to your bedroom by a sheer snow-white chiffon curtain you had embellished with embroidered flowers. The living room held three cotton white walls decorated by bookshelves and various craft items you had created over the years.

Your absolute favourite space was the book nook you had installed under large windows. Adorned by fairy lights, homemade scented candles and a beautiful terrarium your beloved had made. A soft mattress and fluffy pillows made it the perfect space for you to escape to your latest fantasy novel, or work on your crochet projects while your husband was deep in a literary book or writing poems and lyrics, letting his brain flow naturally.

A light blue accent wall painted with white clouds and a bright moon was the home of a piano and music equipment for your husband to write and compose. Oftentimes, you would find him lost in his work, focused eyes, teeth biting his inner lip as he typed away, breath heavy. You loved those moments when you got to be with him while you both worked on your own projects, enjoying the peaceful domesticity.

Waking out of your contemplation, you found your way to the kitchen to prepare a special Sunday breakfast. Just as you were finishing up, you heard a yawn, followed by featherlike footsteps coming in your direction. You turned to see Namjoon approaching you, hair tousled from sleep, eyes half opened, a sloppy grin on his face, dimples greeting you lovingly. You grinned as he came up to engulf you in a big hug, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You could smell his flowery scent, relaxing instantly in his arms.

'Good morning my love.’

'Good morning Yeobo.' you could feel the smile on his lips as he answered you. 'Smells good, I'm so hungry' he said, his stomach growling in agreement.

'I know, I made crepes!' you said excitedly. Namjoon beamed at that. His hands came to cradle your face 'Do you have any idea how much I love you ?' he asked dramatically. You giggled as he closed the distance between you and kissed you softly.

After a delicious breakfast spent in light conversation and loving touches, you both went to get ready for the day. It was warm and sunny outside, spring gifting you with a delicate weather for your day off. Which meant, you got to put on your favourite spring outfit.

Namjoon came out of the bedroom wearing a simple white tee tucked in loose egg white linen pants.

He had put on the light ivory jacket you had knitted for him. He looked stunning. Of course, he always did, but there was something about seeing him in comfortable light clothes, balancing his obsidian hair and caramel skin that made him look angelic.

'You look so beautiful my love' you whispered, circling your arms around his shoulders bringing him close to you. He looked at you lovingly, caressing your nose gently with his, you could feel his breath on your lips. You closed your eyes, feeling at home in his arms as he closed the distance and kissed you deeply. You melted into the kiss, your hands coming to softly weave in his hair while his hands pressed on the small of your back bringing you impossibly close. Breaking the kiss when you ran out of breath, you were greeted with a wide gummy smile and you took the opportunity to kiss both his dimples.

'Are you ready?' he asked, wiggling his eyebrows to which you nodded excitedly.

You had a little tradition for the first Sunday of each month. No matter what, you would always spend it together and pick a new activity to try.

You would pick an activity to do together. It could be anything but it had to be something that you wouldn't usually do. Last month, you painted flower pots and filled them with each other's birth flowers. They now stood proudly right by the entrance of your cottage.

You hadn't planned it that way, but after a few months of doing this, you realised that you always chose activities where you made something to gift the other. Thanks to that beautiful tradition, you now had so many tributes to the love you shared displayed in your cosy home. You absolutely adored looking at them and in a way, you loved all the empty spaces tool. They represented Sundays to be had and love to be shared. The empty spaces were your future and you couldn’t wait to fill them.

Namjoon had a bright smile this morning leading you outside, a wicker basket in hand. You both walked peacefully to the meadow, holding hands, chatting lightly. The sun was bright, enveloping you in its warm embrace. It was a beautiful morning.

When you got to the meadow, you set off to pick out flowers. Your husband, in all his romanticism, proposed that you would make flower crowns for each other. You absolutely loved wildflowers and was so excited to spend your morning picking them for your lover.

You had started by picking out clematis, Namjoon's birth flower. You then chose flowers in different shades of blue, his favourite colour. You mainly pick forget-me-nots, the very symbol of true love, representing perfectly the aura you wanted to give his crown.

When you were satisfied with the different flowers you had picked out you sat down on the grass, enjoying the sun, watching your elegant husband walking around focused, stopping here and there to pick a flower. When he was done, he came to sit next to you, bumping your shoulder, a big smile plastered on his face.

'You are so beautiful Yeobo. All perfect, surrounded by flowers almost as pretty as you are. I'm so lucky to have you'

You smiled bashfully, cheeks heating up.

'I think I'm the lucky one, my love. I've never been as happy as I have been since I met you.'

'Maybe it's not luck at all,' he said dreamily, taking your hand in his. 'Maybe we’re just meant to be'

'I like that idea' you replied, squeezing his hand.

You stayed lying on the grass for a little while, enjoying the sun, making each other laugh, exchanging tender kisses.

As you got up to go back, you noticed Namjoon had mostly picked purple flowers, your favourite colour along with a few small sunflowers, his favourite flower. Your heart grew and a beaming smile appeared on your face.

When you got back home, you went to prepare two glasses of iced tea, while Namjoon got the supplies ready. He layed out some craft wires, a hot glue gun, some pearls, ribbons and a very large amount of glitter.

He had put on soft music and turned on fairy lights, creating an ethereal atmosphere as you both got to work quietly. You stayed focused, your crowns hidden from the other's view.

You carefully mapped out how you wanted the crown to look. Alternating between large clematis and smaller forget-me-nots. You covered a few bluebells with glitter and put them all around the crown. Attached some ribbons to the ends of the crown to make a cute bow. You were very thorough when you handled the flowers, watchful not to damage them. You put as much love as you had into the making of this crown and you were very proud of the result.

You couldn’t see what Namjoon was doing, but you would sometimes sneak a glance and find him completely enthralled by what was between his hands. You could see the dedication to what he was doing. His focused state making him slouch slightly, while his brows furrowed and a cute pout appeared on his heart shaped lips. You knew he was determined to make this the most beautiful crown he could while also focusing on not ruining his meticulous work with his clumsiness.

You cleaned the table when you were both satisfied with your work, then proceeded to go outside, sitting on the bench swing by the cherry tree at the back of your garden.

You sat legs folded, facing each other, your fists levelled to decide who would be sharing their work first. Much to your delight, your scissors beat Namjoon’s paper. You smiled knowing you would be the first to show your creation. You carefully picked up the crown you had hid behind you on the bench and presented it to your lover.

He beamed when he saw the mix of bright blue flowers, perfectly arranged together and a few clematis here and there embellishing your work of art. A light blush came on his cheeks as he let you delicately place it on his head. He grabbed one of your hands, brought it to his lips to place a tender kiss there.

'I love it, thank you so much Yeobo. This is the most beautiful flower crown.'

'A perfect match for the most beautiful human' you answered proudly.

You kissed him quickly before sitting back with a huge smile plastered on your face. 'Now my turn!' you said excitedly. You absolutely adored flower crowns, having so many different ones matching varying outfits for different occasions. You knew this was the reason why Namjoon chose this activity and you were so grateful for it. Not only was it incredibly romantic, but it also meant one of your many crowns would have been handmade by the person you loved most in this world. You didn’t need to see it to know it was already your favourite one.

Seeing you so eager made your husband chuckle. He would do anything to see you so happy and he would bask in your happiness for as long as you would let him. Which would be forever if he had his way. He made you close your eyes which you did happily, waiting impatiently for the moment he would let you see his work. You giggled when he took advantage of your closed eyes to kiss your nose. He then whispered for you to open.

You gasped seeing the flower crown. You were breathtaken. Namjoon had positioned the flowers in the cutest way, each one complementing the next to perfection. You had tears in your eyes seeing the small sunflowers tangled with -your favourite flower-. The crown was beautiful and you told him as much.

He leaned in to put it on your head and you took advantage of that new position to kiss him deeply. He melted instantly into the kiss, cradling your face with one hand while the other came to bring you closer until you were straddling him. Separating when you were out of breath, you stared lovingly into his eyes while your fingers came to lightly trace the soft features of his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, humming softly. You whispered praises to him, thanking him for the crown.

You sat back admiring your beautiful husband and took his hands in yours. ‘I love you more than anything’. He knew that of course, but you would never stop reminding him. And he would never stop saying it back to you, for the rest of your lives.

a/n : Thank you for reading, i hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to give me some feedback.

#namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon x gn!reader #knj x reader #knj fic

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chromietriestowrite · 1 year ago

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My dad sends me. Doctor Who character analysis sometimes and here's his latest:

11, more than any other Doctor, is the reason that River says, "Never let the Doctor see you get older." Rose, Martha, Amelia, Clara, Billie, Ryan, and Yaz are all young, all full of a sense of wonder for the things that the Doctor shows them. Donna is an adult. She first decided to become a companion because she was in a rut and wanted to run away from that. So 10 thought she would be like the the others. On their first trip, 9 showed Rose the end of the Earth. When she assumes that he is going to save the Earth, he corrected her. Stating that this is an unchangeable event. From the beginning, he trains her not to question his judgement on what he says cannot be changed. Donna was too old to fall for that and pushes back constantly. Okay, so you can't save everyone in Pompeii, then just save one person. It isn't an all or nothing proposition. He learned from that and tried to do better. Until he got too arrogant and tried to save someone he really should have let die. But then he became 11, the Doctor who forgets. The one who keeps running away more than any other. 200 years running away from Lake Silence. Years in a cloud over Victorian London. Years spent in a monastary.

If he can't save everyone, then fine. He won't save anyone.

Then he became 12, with a face to remind him of Donna's lesson.

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chromietriestowrite · 1 year ago

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Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader.

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another”

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on.

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once.

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc.

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with.

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details.

Don’t try to describe everything.

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

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chromietriestowrite · 1 year ago

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HEEEEELP

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chromietriestowrite · 1 year ago

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Donna and the Doctor are the best 🔥🥹

Forever obsessed with how Donna Noble was supposed to be a one off Christmas special character and then it was like "OOPS! We accidentally wrote The Doctor's soulmate and home. We should probably get her back on huh"

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chromietriestowrite · 1 year ago

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Be kind. 🩷

Mr. Gaiman, is there any advice you would give to a fellow human being? (asking for a friend)

Be kind.

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chromietriestowrite · 1 year ago

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I don't know how to be me anymore

Pairing : platonic!Buckyxgn!reader

Summary : Bucky's always felt different. When he finally starts being ready to figure out what it means, he turns to you to try and find out where to go from here.

Warnings : Nb!Buckyxnb!reader, tiny bit of angst, comfort, fluff, dragcreature!reader, Buck trying to figure out who he is

Word count : 2,494

A/N : Hi guys, I finally decided to post my second fic! I tried to write something as wholesome as possible. Hopefully some of you will find some comfort reading this.

English is not my first language. Don't hesitate to tell me if something is incorrect.

Bucky opened the door abruptly. His hair was a mess, as if he had been running his hands through them for a while. You could see he was nervous.

He had been cryptic in his text asking you to come over. You weren't sure what it was about but seeing his trembling hands, you knew it had to be important. You looked at him with a smile, trying to ease his nerves.

'Can I come in?'

He then registered the fact that you had been standing in his doorway waiting for him to move his body out of the way. He look at you sheepishly.

'Sorry. Please do come in. I'll get you some water. Are you hungry? I should have made us something to eat. I can heat up some leftov-'

'A glass of water is perfect. And I just ate before coming, thank you though'. You stopped his rambling, a reassuring look on your face.

He went to the kitchen to fill up two glasses with water.

'So, what did you want to talk to me about?'

He looked at you surprised. 'How do you know I wanted to talk to you about something?'

You smiled. 'Well I guess I know you that well. Or maybe I'm clairvoyant. Also, you might have sent me a text saying are you free, I need to talk to you about something.

'Oh, right' He chuckled a bit, his hand finding its way behing his neck, a slight blush colouring his cheeks.

You could see how hard this was for him, his hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he eyes looking everywhere and nowhere all at once.

'Hey, whatever it is, it's me you're talking to. I understand you're nervous but I’m here to listen. I'm not here to judge or give you unsollicited advice. I'm your friend, and I here, always. You can count on me.'

A small smile found its way on his face. He figured he might as well dive into it, no point in delaying it.

He had known he needed someone to talk to about this. Not just someone, you. And he felt ready. No matter how hard it was to actually say the words out loud, he wanted to.

He sat down on the sofa gesturing for you to do the same. He took a big breath, and started talking.

'Do you remember when you dressed me up and did my makeup for your show?'

A few weeks back, during one of your shows as a dragcreature, the public had to come wearing at least one item a drag queen/king/person/creature. Bucky had wanted to go all out. He always loved coming to your shows and was hell bent on being the fiercest in the audience.

You nodded. He had been praised by all your fellow drag performers, having shown up looking like a dark priestess, slaying makeup, hair, outfit and demeanor.

'I felt something as you were doing my makeup. I felt powerful and amazing when I looked at myelf in the mirror'

'I know. I saw how you face lit up. And I noticed how you kept staring at your makeup in the rear view mirror.'

Bucky blushed looking down.

'Don't be embarassed, I do it too.'

Bucky took a breath, you could see he had started to relax a bit. What he said next showed you he felt safe enough to open up.

'Back in the army, with the howling commandos, we went out for a drink one night.

We were exhausted, both physically and emotionally and it felt good to take a break. To not be soldiers but a group of people, having a drink, not thinking about the war raging around us.

Steve was having a hard time relaxing. He didn't know how to put the shield down, not even for one night. So the guys and I, we decided to go do a little private show for him.

We went to the dancers' tent and tried their USO costumes on. The amosphere was light, we were having fun being silly together.'

He took a pause. Looked down, his hands trembling harder.

'When I put on the costume, I felt that thing. The same thing I felt when you dressed me up. I felt b... I felt beautiful. It felt right.

And I had the biggest smile on my face. I twirled, I danced, I laughed. I felt like there was nothing that could take that feeling away.

Steve noticed. Of course he did. He knew me better than anyone. He didn't say anything though. Well, not with words anyway.'

A small, nostalgic smile crept up on his face.

'He stole one of the USO uniforms, the one I had on that night and gifted it to me. He said it was to remember that night by, but we both knew there was actually a way deeper meaning to it.'

Bucky looked at you, for the first time since he started talking.

'Did you know they kept it? It was in the museum along with the howling commandos' stuff from the war.'

You knew his question was rhetorical so you just nodded, urging him to keep going.

'While I was recovering in Wakanda, Steve visited me often. Well, he said he came for me but we all knew it was the goats really.' he joked.

The atmosphere felt lighter. Like the more he talked about this, the less scary it became.

You knew the weight of what he was telling you and it moved you to know you were the one he felt safe to talk about that with.

He kept going.

'After Okoye helped get rid of he trigger words, he came to celebrate. We spent the night drinking, laughing, remeniscing about our childhood.

He told me of his life since he'd been in this time. What he had learned, how he tried to build a life for himself here without really ever succeding. How he missed our world.

He felt that Captain America was all he was anymore. Steve Rogers had died that night on the plane and he never managed to get past that. He never really tried to give himself a new life here.

He was stuck in this time. I'm so happy that he got his chance to go back. To live the life he was always supposed to live.'

You could see how much he missed his best friend. He had talked to you about that before. The first time the two of you had talked was actually after Steve had gone. You were both overtook with emotion, sad to see a friend go and happy that he finally had a chance at happiness.

'We both knew I wouldn't want to but he did ask me if I wanted to go back with him. But I knew I didn't belong there anymore.

I don’t belong anywhere anymore... But I could and I want to.

'The night before he left, he came to me with a gift. It was that very same costume from all those decades ago. He had stolen it from the museum a few years back.

He told me that night when we dressed up was one of his fondest memories. One he held close to his heart. Because he understood that I had found a part of myself that night.'

A tear made its way down his cheek. His voice starting to get uneven.

'We never really talked about what I felt, what it meant, what I wanted. I think we didn't know how to. But he did tell me something that stuck with me.'

'He said that now, it was my responsibility to bring back the Bucky I was. Or to discover the Bucky I am. Maybe a bit of both.

This time suited me better than it ever did him. And here, I could actually have a chance to figure out who I wanted to be. Who I had been all this time without knowing, without having the luxury to be.

'I'm so grateful for that night. And I'm so grateful I got to meet the Steve you knew, even for a little bit.'

You looked at each other and smiled. Steve was the reason you two had met. Even gone, he had found a way to make both your lives less lonely.

More confidently now, he kept going.

'I made him a promise that night. To learn to never let anybody define or decide who I am. To learn that only I had the power to do that.'

A tear escaped you.

'That's beautiful Bucky. And really brave too.

I'm glad you had those moments. Even if they were few and far between.'

Bucky smiled. He took a moment to think back. He was grateful to have been able to experience those tiny little moments where he felt whole. But he wanted more.

He looked at you expectedly.

'I asked you here because I need your help. I'm trying to figure out who I am. How to be the person I want to be now. How to be a person now. I know what I want to learn but I don't know where to start or what to ask.

Or who to talk to, exept you. I trust you, I have since the moment I met you. And you have taught me so much already. I'm asking you to teach me more. To support me and guide me through this journey.’

You smiled and took his hands in yours.

'You are so brave. And you should be so so proud of yourself. I know I am.

This is a potentially difficult and terrifying journey but oh how beautiful a journey it is. It won't always be easy, but no matter what you find out about yourself, it is worth it. Believe me.

We've talked about what the gender spectrum is and how it can express itself. How it's vast and both very simple and quite overwhelming. And how you don't have to know where you find yourself in it.

And the way you're feeling today, how you would define yourself today doesn't have to be the same as the way you feel tomorrow.

That's part of the beauty of gender.'

'Was it hard for you? Did you always know?'

'It was hard. Very hard at times. But it was also so easy. I didn't know, not for the longest time.

It came slowly at first. When I would read about transgender people, non-binary or otherwise, sharing their story, I would understand. I would relate even.

After a while, I allowed myself to realise that if I felt like I understood, like I knew where they came from then maybe it was where I belonged.

The more I thought about freeing myself from the binary, the lighter I felt. The closer to myself I felt.

I was lucky enough to have very supportive friends who were by my side as I naviguated all the questions and changes that came.

They never rushed me or asked me to know exactly who I was or to have any sort of answer. They understood that I was trying to figure out my identity. That I felt as lost as much as I felt found.

I can't tell you it will go well with everyone because unfortunately it won't. But I hope you know you can find that kind of support with me. I think you can find it with Sam too, if you want.’

He nodded. He might not be ready to talk about that with Sam yet, but he did know he could.

'The world has evolved, but there are still some people who don't want to accept it or who don't want to see it. And they can be so violent in their need for us not to exist.

And then there are people who will love you and accept without ever really understanding. Not because they don't want to. They just can't seem to, i guess?

My family is that way. When I came out to them, they asked questions. Tried to understand what it meant, how it felt like. And no matter how much they tried, they never really did understand.

You looked down.

'They are the only people who still use my deadname you know.

Some of them because they are having a hard time wrapping their heads around the idea that I'm not the person they saw me as. Some of them refusing to accept that I'm not actually the person they saw me as.'

'I'm sorry y/n. I know how much it hurts you.'

'Yes, it does hurt. When they use my deadname, when they don't use the right pronouns. When they invalidate me feeling bad when they do that.

But they still love me. Me being me has never changed the way they love me.

Of course I wish they would respect who I am. And I know my situation would not be acceptable for some people. And I get that I really do.

Having your parents still love you after you come out shouldn't be something to be grateful about. But for now, I guess having their love has to be enough for me.'

You took time to reflect. Thinking about how your family is handling your transition hurts, and it's hard to navigate not wanting to lose them while asking for them to respect who you are.

You tried to find the right words.

'My family is the one I made. The one I'm making, the one I'm choosing everyday. Composed of both relatives and the amazing people whom I love and want to share my life with.

And you are one of them you know. One of the people who sees me for who I am and loves me unconditionally.

And I love you and I see you.'

You were both crying. Not sad tears, maybe not happy tears either. But the tears you get from beeing seen. Truly seen. The tears you get from feeling the love someone has for you. The tears that make you feel like maybe you can learn to love yourself that way too.

He smiled.

'I love you and I see you.'

'I'll by your side, Buck. Through this journey and any other, always. I'll support you, I'll be there when you need a hug, a book, a sickening makeup, a person to cry with, a person to laugh with. When you need my wonderful vegan banana bread.'

He laughed. You loved hearing him laugh.

'I mean it. I'm here, for it all. I love you.'

He came closer and took you in his arms. Held you so tight. You stayed like that for a while, neither one of you ready to let go. He was crying. You could feel a wet spot growing on your shoulder. You didn't mind. He put his head in the crook of your neck and whispered

'I love you.'

Thank you for reading and remember you are loved ❤️

You can always come to me if you need someone to talk to. We have to be there for each other 🥰

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