#how am i meant to live like this another month let alone for the minimum six month diagnosis wait jfc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

Little Border Town

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck.

Featuring italrry as well as mustachrry! and running italrry... I hope y’all like! this is just part one, so much more is in store so pls let me know what you think :) lots of love - first fic that’s not named from a quote said in the story I’m shook!! the growth, the range...she has it apparently! side note: i had to change the gif from italrry/mustachrry bc something is whack with the formatting and either the keep reading or the title keeps disappearing so i tried some stuff to resolve it *sobbing*

Word Count: 8.5k | Warnings: swearing, mentions of relatives death, bickering, otherwise tame for now?

Pt. 2

There’s a little town that straddles the border between Italy and France. It’s just a little ways from Nice on the French side and Ventimiglia on the Italian side. The population is rather small and the tourists who come are usually either returners or are very very lost. One street you’re in France and the next you’re in Italy. It can be confusing to newcomers, but the locals love it -- for the most part. These streets are easily delineating as French or Italian by the little country flags that hang above all the shops or in the windows.

It’s a coastal town with cobblestone everywhere and bright painted buildings. The water is a soft blue and the wind barely ever brings any waves greater than a foot high. There’s a shop for everything and it seems to be frozen in the past from the outside, thankfully if you step into the tiny bed and breakfast there is wifi. The sun almost always shines down on this sweet piece of paradise, the winter does however bring gusting winds and thunderstorms. Those storms rattle the little town and afterwards you’ll find the residents picking up the pieces that have fallen off the shops.

Now, this little border town, with its streets separated by French and Italian customs, well almost all of them, it seems imperative to mention. There, in the exact middle of the little town, is one street that is split down the middle, half in France and half in Italy. The locals from the French and the Italian sides love that street the most because it has this certain dynamic spark of change that brings them together, makes them unique. Except for two locals that seemingly hate this street. These two locals aren’t actually true locals either. They both moved there a couple years ago.

Harry, from the Italian side, owns the shoemaker and repair shop. He hailed from England and moved to the little town when his great uncle, Joe, had sent him a letter pleading for him to take over his shop so that he could retire. Harry, ever the traveler, hopped on the next flight out to Italy and then traversed by train and bus until he reached his Joe’s home. Like most of the shops, there was a living space above the shop area. Harry lived there with Joe until he passed away a few years back leaving Harry to tend the store alone. He didn’t mind too much, being left there alone. He had always loved Italy and to get to live in the countryside in a little cobblestone town and own a shop was a dream come true. After living there for two years, he had bought a sailboat that he would take out when the shop was closed. He also had bought himself a motorcycle that he would ride to the next greatest city if he was ever in dire need of more of a nightlife as a 26 year old. He loved it, his own slice of paradise… except for his thorn in his side.

Y/N, from the French side, owns the bookstore, which carries lots of vintage books and records. She had moved there after college. In school, she had studied French and taken a year abroad in Paris and had traveled down to Nice for a month. While in Nice she had made a few friends and one of them had come from the little border town. They had insisted they all go there for a weekend. When Y/N stepped foot onto the street she now lived on a few years before, she fell in love. Seeing the little Italian and French flags in the windows and potted plants with a view of the sea had been so endearing to her.

She was drawn to the bookshop and had chatted up the old French woman who ran it. The woman had reminded Y/N of someone but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it. It was strange for her because she often found these connections with older people, she felt like she had known this woman her whole life. Y/N went back into the store the next two days she was there to talk to the woman again, Marie, she had learned. Before she left the little town she left her number with Marie and kept in some contact with her. After about a year though, their communication fell off. Y/N was sad but understood that life can be busy for people and that she obviously wasn’t the most important woman in the little border town bookkeeper’s life. Or so she thought. In the middle of the summer after she graduated college, Y/N was backpacking through Iceland and got a call from who she assumed was Marie. She was ecstatic and answered the call immediately. Sadly, it wasn’t Marie, instead a friend who had been given her will to execute. In her will she had left Y/N the bookshop. Her reasoning was similar to why Y/N had liked Marie so much, she said that Y/N had reminded her of her sister who had died unexpectedly in her teenage years. Being so far from home at the time and completely consumed with love and loss, Y/N had agreed to take over the shop without any hesitation.

She got home and informed her parents of her choice and moved to the little border town as soon as she could. She lived in the little area above the shop that Marie had also gifted to her and she tended the shop downstairs. The living area hadn’t really been cleaned out and Y/N had found an old collection of vinyls in the corner of the bedroom. As much as she wanted to keep them to herself, she thought it would be a good addition to the shop and had made a section for records in memory of Marie. She loved France and the coast, she bought a little car and would drive to Nice every so often or to the more sandy beaches along the French coast. It was quiet and different from the life she had maybe expected, but taking over a bookshop because a kind stranger had gifted it to you as one of their dying wishes wasn’t something Y/N could ever turn down. Her soul was too sweet. At least it was for most people, not for her neighbor though.

Her neighbor was the shoemaker, Harry. Their shops lived against one another even though he was on the Italian side and she was on the French. They were located exactly at the split between France and Italy. With less than a foot between the buildings, they saw a lot of each other. On their first interaction, Y/N had seen too much of her neighbor, meaning she had seen all of him. Their shops were similar to track homes, meaning they were built completely the same only mirrored. This meant that the windows of their bedrooms matched up exactly, she wondered who had thought that was a good idea after her first night. When Y/N had first moved in it was August, she left her window open and without the shade down to let as much fresh cool air in as possible. With her jet lag, she had found herself wide awake at about three am. Pacing around her room in the pink silk tank dress she had decided to sleep in, her eyes froze on her window - or rather, who she saw through her window. The light from her room and the moon were strong enough to illuminate the tanned and tattooed skin of the naked man in the room next to her. He held a bowl in his large hands that he seemed to be spooning cereal into his mouth from.

His half-lidded eyes flickered to the light coming from the place next door. The bookshop had been closed all summer and no one had been living in the upper area for a little longer than that so he had gotten into the habit of leaving his window open. He was half drunk after stumbling his way home from the tiny bar down the street. He had decided a naked cereal run would be a good idea to tide over his cravings. But upon seeing the girl wearing lingerie a mere two feet away from him, separated by the screens on their open windows, he realized that wasn’t actually true. His eyes widened only slightly as he saw her, his drunkenness allowing him to keep his blushing to a minimum. His drunken confidence kept him from covering himself as he lifted a single brow and made a salute with his spoon hand before going back to his bed.

She stayed at the window for a moment after the naked man disappeared and then quickly ran back to her bed. She shut off her light and tried not to think about everything she had seen. She tried to not think about his toned arms that flexed as he moved around his food, or the tattoos that lined every part of his body (the tiger and ferns seared into her mind specifically), or his tousled chestnut hair, or his searing green eyes, or the full mustache that held a little milk from his cereal. She tried, she really did. But how was she supposed to face her neighbor ever again after that. Maybe he wasn’t her neighbor, she reasoned, maybe he was an acquaintance her neighbor had just spent the night with. That wouldn’t be better! Her hands grabbed her other pillow and shoved it over her face trying to force herself to go to bed.

The next day, she had been working out front of the bookshop, beginning to repaint the windowsills of the shop with some navy paint she had found in the back to give it an updated look. It was early and she hadn’t expected to see anyone at all. Her jet lag still ailed her and caused her to be up bright and early. This was her second run in with the shoemaker, this time though, both to her dismay and joy, he was fully clothed. He wasn’t watching where he was going and almost toppled the both of them over as he left his store front, locked the door behind him, and then set off down the street. His large body, covered in short black running shorts and a mesh grey tank top, bumped into her almost immediately. He was still fiddling with his music on his phone as he began his run. She jumped back and dropped the paintbrush from her hand. She yelped as his body collided with hers and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes scanned her and took in the light wash cuffed jeans and moss ribbed tank top she was wearing. They widened when he recognized her face, the expression of shock similar to that of last night when she had seen him in his bedroom. He smirked and took out one of his earbuds. She grabbed her paintbrush from the ground as he extended his hand to her.

“I’m Harry,” his hand is greeted with hers. He speaks to her in English and she decides it’s probably best to follow along with whatever someone else began with. She worried that she’d run into a lot of Italians who didn’t know French or English and she’d have some trouble. His eyes flicker to the bits of blue already littered on her hands and in her hair.

“Y/N.” She nods, avoiding eye contact with the man she had already seen too much of. At least he’s not your neighbor’s lover, he’s just your neighbor. She also notices how he doesn’t apologize for running into her.

“You were spying on me last night,” his hand returns to his side and his smile quirks up again as he watches her face flush. His nicely groomed mustache twitches, trying to contain his laughter.

“I was not!” She finally looks up at the taller man and takes in his tanned face that is even more attractive in the morning light and up so close. The hat he wears is funny, a blue trucker’s hat that read “If you ain’t a fisherman, you ain’t shit!”, and she would laugh if she couldn’t already tell he was going to be extremely annoying.

His smirk continues and he barks out a laugh. He removes his sunglasses to really look at her now. “It’s alright, I work hard for this,” he gestures to his body, “glad someone appreciates it. Just means I’ll need to be installing a shade now, I guess.”

“You don’t have a shade and you walk around your room naked?” She ignores his first bit of conversation. She can’t think about his body or how it had looked last night. She sets down her paintbrush and folds her arms across her chest, trying to figure the man in front of her out.

“No… but it’s not all my fault. You had your shade open too! Who’s willingly up at that time of night anyway? I was just fixing myself a snack after the pub.” He raises his brows triumphantly at her, feeling confident that he has gotten the upperhand in the conversation.

She narrows her eyes at him as she finally registers that his accent isn’t Italian or French. He’s British and she wonders what he’s done to get himself in this little border town. He also seems to own the shop beside her since he locked the door behind him. He was peculiar, but she couldn’t dwell on what she thought about him since he had just accused her of being a peeping tom.

“Someone is up at that hour because she just moved and has terrible jet lag and can’t sleep. The place has been completely closed up for months and I needed to get as much cool air in as possible before the hot day. That’s why I was up and that’s why my shade wasn’t down.” She stands up straighter and rolls her eyes at him, muttering something in French to herself about annoying men. She smiles to herself when Harry doesn’t seem to understand. He obviously can tell she said something, but he doesn’t know exactly what. He could understand a good bit of French and he could speak some, but if someone spoke quickly and quietly, like she had just done, he wouldn’t be able to make it out. He figured it was something rude, though, with the way she sounds and begins to turn from him.

“Are you here to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Well, welcome to the best place in the world. It was so nice, two countries couldn’t decide who got to keep it and decided to split it.”

His arm sweeps out around him, gesturing to the street around him. She smiles up at him before following his arms movement. His arm had more tattoos than she had realized from her eyeful last night. She noticed the intricacies of all the black ink and again she had a million questions that she had to keep to herself. He was arrogant, conceited, impatient and a little bit odd and she knew all of this after barely one conversation. At least they could agree on one thing, they loved this town.

He looked back at her after scanning the street and saw her smiling in wonderment at everything around her. This brought a fleeting genuine smile to his face, knowing she was happy to be there. He had known Marie and was sad to see her go less than a year after his great uncle. He had always thought that Marie and Joe were both secretly pining over each other. Constantly stopping into each other’s shops and waving from their windows at each other, but Joe had always shaken his head at Harry when he mentioned it.

His smile faded when her eyes came back to his fac face face. Her smile disappeared as well. “Right, so, see you around…?” He said, already forgetting her name. She scoffs when she realizes what happened and then repeats her name. He nods curtly before replacing his sunglasses and single airpod and starts running again. She calls after him, “Thanks for the apology!” and then mutters to herself, “le con” knowing she shouldn’t shout that down the street where other people speak French. He doesn’t hear any part of it, his music up high enough to drown out the sounds of the world.

Y/N settled into the bookshop fairly easily, but she never failed to mention how unhelpful Harry had been:

“Yes, well, it’s been going pretty good...except for this one man. Well, I’d hardly call him a man - a boy. My neighbor, actually, he owns the shoe shop...no, nevermind that, he practically made it his mission to make my move the hardest thing in the world...Harry -- yes, that’s his name, Mama… well I don’t know, It’s just Harry. - it doesn’t matter! He’s been in my way at every turn… yes, both physically and metaphorically...I’m not kidding! And I’m not being dramatic… Well, It was nice talking to you. Love you, talk soon.”

That was her first telephone conversation with her mother since arriving in the little town. Maybe ten days after she arrived. Naturally, she had it in the downstairs area of her home, the bookstore. And naturally, Harry had wandered in, to discuss one of their shared planters, and overheard her entire side of the conversation and gathered the rest from his own imagination. When she had laid eyes on him after setting down her phone, she rolled her eyes at the smirking Chesire cat look on his face.

“You would be the kind of man to eavesdrop, hm?” She restacked a group of books that were already in order.

“Thought I was a boy?” his smirk remained on his face. He strided closer to the counter she stood behind.

“Like I said...What can I help you with?” Her voice drips with venom as she finally turns her eyes to look at Harry. His smirk still remains on his face now that she is making eye contact with him. He’s clad in a t-shirt that has some baseball team on it with burgundy corduroy flared jeans. She notices the strain of the shirt over his chest and biceps and avoids the scoff of how vain he must be to keep himself in that good of shape for tending a shoe store in the South of France, or rather Northern Italy…

“Right, Thought I’d pop in and tell you that one of our planters is shared. So you’ll have to talk to me before replanting anything. I noticed you coming in with tulips the other day.”

“The ones on the front of the street?” He nods as her head turns to glance out the front window. “Why the hell do we share a planter?”

“Because, my late great Uncle Joe and Marie fancied each other.” Her eyes went wide at his words, trying to think of Marie having a crush on someone. “They were never together, never admitted the fancying, but they always did the planters together. They each had one of their own and then bought the third together, said it made sense to make the shops look nice...I know it was just so they had more to tend to - together.”

She hums, taking in everything that he said and how his eyes shine slightly just at the mention of his uncle. His voice had perked at the story he had just spun for her and she smiles thinking about the idea of love and loving someone so much that you’re content with simply planting flowers together. It seemed really old-fashioned to her, but it also brought even more charm to the town she now called home. Romance was still alive here, or so she hoped.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to let you know when I’ve decided what flowers I want to put in there.” She turns around, assuming the end of the conversation and getting back to work. She doesn’t really find a reason to entertain Harry anymore than necessary. Like she told her mother, he was constantly in her way or being naked in his room, something she had chosen to leave out of her conversation with her mom.

“You’ve misunderstood me. Maybe my English is getting rusty, I rarely speak it since everyone else knows Italian.” She flips around at his rude comment, eyes alight with fire once again. “If you want to replant anything, which I don’t understand why you would, the flowers I put are wonderful, we’ll have to discuss it. It’s not you just telling me you’ll be doing it. We own it equally and I won’t let you bulldoze my hard work.”

“On a planter?!”

She sticks on a sickly sweet smile as she tries to refrain from laughing. “I guess the countryside really can make some people enjoy the simpler things in life…” With that she walks to the back of the shop, leaving the stunned Harry to see himself out of it. When the little bell rings, her stifled laughter can be heard among the books.

It doesn’t matter what it is, Harry and Y/N are able to make a fuss about anything and the whole street, if not the whole town, had quickly figured that out. No one had a problem with Y/N, they welcomed her with open arms. Marie had told the entire French side and a good amount of the Italian side how wonderful and tenacious she was. How Y/N reminded Marie of her sister and upon meeting her, many agreed. But the first time Harry and Y/N had a public row, at the bakery in the center of town, on the French side, everyone was quick to realize that there was bound to be trouble between the two. It was a stark contrast to the loving comments and endearing looks the previous owners had always engaged in when they were still alive. This fight was maybe a few days after the planter business and Y/N had tried in the following days to get him to change the planters to no avail so she was in an especially pissed off mood towards Harry.

“Could you be taking any longer?” Y/N rolled her eyes as she stood behind her tall neighbor, her foot impatiently tapping a beat against the stone floor.

Harry stood hunched in front of the display case, scanning for exactly what he wanted and desperately trying to remember what he had come here for. He was a bit more dressed up that day, his mother had been coming to visit him for the first time in a while and he wanted to look nice and have a special treat for her when she arrived. His trousers were a deep navy that matched the navy of the stripes on his sweater vest, the blue pinstripes of the button down underneath was a slightly lighter shade, but blue nonetheless. He had rolled up his sleeves past his elbows, showing off his various tattoos and sinewy arms. As his eyes scanned over the case again, he ran through his mental list and bit at his lip, knowing he was forgetting something. He barely even heard her drawl out her insult, the tapping of her foot eventually getting his attention due to its faltering.

She straightened upright from her hip jutted position when he didn’t even bite at her unkind words. Her foot stopping its melody. As she was about to give another go, Harry turned around and she gave him her full look of displeasure.

“Country life requires a bit of patience. I doubt you’ve ever had to wait your turn in your life, but you’ll have to get used to it here.”

Her eyes roll instinctively. She noticed that they seemed to do it just at the mention of his name or the sound of his voice. She had always thought herself a lover of the British accent, citing Downton Abbey and various famous musicians - Freddie Mercury, George Harrison, Elton John, etc. - as members of that little island who were formative to her identity, loving them for their talents as well as their accent. Yet with Harry’s deep meandering British voice, she found herself wishing to be anywhere but in its presence. She found that he took so long to ever get out an actual full thought and when he did it was barely coherent. He also never failed to let his sarcasm or smugness drip into his tone, causing her to audibly be aware of the smirk on his face even if she couldn’t see it. The image flashing across her mind no matter what.

“You’ll have to let me know when you’ll be here again…” His eyebrows quirk at her odd response and it’s her turn to smirk up at him. She’s already satisfied with her quip even though she’s only gotten half of it out. His mouth opens to question her, but she finishes her thought. “That is, so I can plan around you. If I have to alot a whole day to the boulangerie just waiting for you… I’ll never get settled.”

Harry scoffs and a fleeting expression of actual offense flashes across his features before turning around to finish his order. The others in line and the worker are all equally wide eyed and she hears some hushed whispering behind her, but it’s in Italian so she can’t make it out. The worker eyes Y/N as she rings up the rest of Harry’s chosen items. The worker smiles softly at Harry, feeling for the man she had known long enough to know that he wasn’t as rude as he was being with Y/N. She was also taken aback at Y/N’s response, but hadn’t seen her be rude otherwise so she had to assume it simply had something to do with the man.

When Harry is all set, he turns to leave and pass Y/N again. His eyes narrow and his words once again are turned nasty. “I wouldn’t mind if you never got settled,” he said before muttering something in Italian under his breath and leaving the store. She assumed it to be nasty as she eyed the couple behind her giggling, before walking to talk with the worker.

She shook her head trying to rid herself of her cold exterior that she kept having to conjure up for Harry. Now smiling, she asks for her items in French, happy to be speaking the language that brought her so much joy rather than English which seemed to be reserved only for Harry now. She hadn’t gone to the Italian side very much yet and the people she had met over there so far had spoken French to her once she had introduced herself.

As the worker finished with Y/N’s order, she asked in a hushed tone, in French, “How do you know Mr. Styles?”

“Harry?” Y/N guessed, not actually knowing Harry’s last name until now. The girl behind the counter smiles quickly before nodding. “Mon voison” she sighs and contains the accompanying eye roll when she sees the girl blush at the idea of being neighbors with Harry. “He’s a brat,” she continues and the girl laughs lightly before saying, “I think he’s rather sweet… not bad to look at either.” She looks out the window of the shop wistfully, like Harry’s still there and Y/N whips her head around, afraid he knew that she was talking about him. Thankfully, he was gone and Y/N laughs to herself when she feels the anxiety that had gripped her for a moment dissipates. Shaking her head at the girl, she grabs her items and change from her before making a break for the door.

It was soon after that incident that Harry and Y/N’s squabbles became notorious throughout the little town. Drama wasn’t common there and any sort of excitement was the talk of the town. It made sense that this was snapped up by the gossipers from the French and Italian sides alike.

Anne, Harry’s mother, was stopped the next day, when she was out for coffee and Harry was still at the shop, and was asked why her son was so angry at the new bookshop owner. She thought it made sense for her to drop into the bookshop next to her son’s shop after hearing that. Walking into the shop, she was greeted with the smell of lavender and the sweet melody of a love song. She immediately smiled at the charm of the bookstore, feeling like there was a bit more life in it then there had been the last time she had come in. Harry had told her that Marie had passed, but not that someone new had taken over and she was eager to meet them, especially now that she had been told about the town gossip.

A messy haired, but bright eyed Y/N came trotting out of the bookshelves at the sound of the door opening. A smile beamed on her face when she saw the mature brunette woman standing just inside the doorway. “Bonjour! Bienvenue!” She greets as she smooths some of her unkempt hair. Y/N had been digging around the back shelves of the store searching for a specific book one of her other customers had asked about yesterday. And much to her dismay, she wasn’t being very successful. When the woman only says “Bonjour” and makes no inclination that she plans to speak more French, Y/N believes it’s safe to assume she’s a tourist and switches to English. “Can I help you?”

Anne laughs happily to hear English and walks over to the counter that Y/N had walked behind. “Yes, Hi! My son lives here and I’ve just come to visit him. He didn’t tell me someone had taken over Marie’s shop.” Y/N perks at the name of Marie and she smiles sincerely at the woman now. Not quite a tourist, yet not quite a local, she noted for herself.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N. I was a friend of Marie’s, so to say, and she left me the place.” Pausing, Y/N turns over the vinyl that had just finished side A, and then returns to her place at the counter. “I’m still really new, but it’s a small town. I don’t know of many other people who weren’t born here who live here, though, who’s your son?” She rests her elbows on the counter and leans on them while staring at the kind woman. She had noticed the British accent, but hadn’t connected the dots yet. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have a British accent when they spoke English so it didn’t necessarily mean she was from England. But maybe Y/N should have noticed the light eyes and brown hair, maybe that should have been an indicator as well. Or the way she had said ‘my son’ and nodded in the way of the shoe shop. But no matter what, it came as a shock when the woman with the coffee in hand said what she said next.

“My son is your neighbor! He runs the shoe repair shop. His great uncle, my ex-husband’s uncle, left it to him a couple years ago.” Y/N’s eyes widen so much so that she has to blink a few times to assure herself they haven’t popped out of her head.

“Harry...is your son?” She speaks slowly and Anne smiles at the girl. She nods and Y/N nods back, taking the news in. He has a mother...she guessed she should have expected that. It had been unlikely that her theory of him being sent straight from hell to make her life just like it was accurate.

“Here you are mum! What are you doin’ in here?” Harry rushes through the door when he sees his mother inside from the window. Y/N rolls her eyes on cue, but still notices the soft adoring look on his face while he gazes at his mother. She supposes she can concede that he isn’t the spawn of satan now. His look hardens when he turns to Y/N, who has straightened up to her full height upon his arrival.

“I was just meeting the new bookshop owner, Y/N!” She looks between Harry and Y/N. “What’s this about you being angry with her?” She asks more to Harry, but Y/N hears easily. Harry’s eyes flash at Y/N and her eyes widen once again, but shrugs to Harry, having no idea where his mother had gotten that idea.

“What did you say-”

“I didn’t say anything! I’d just realized she was your mother right before you walked in!”

“It’s true. Someone said something about it to me at the coffee shop. Of course, I didn’t even know the book shop even had a new owner, so I decided to come by.”

“It’s nothing, mum,” Harry insists.

“Harry and I...we just don’t exactly see eye to eye. But, I’m sure we’ll warm up to each other eventually,” she easily lies through her teeth, knowing she really couldn’t see herself ever being friends with this prick. “Feel free to look around the shop, it’s not exactly to my liking yet, but then again, I am just getting settled. Otherwise, you two should enjoy your time together. I’m sure it’s not often you can make the time to journey all the way out here.” She smiles sweetly at Anne, choosing to ignore Harry completely.

“Thank you, Y/N. Harry can be an acquired taste for some, but just below that exterior of his, he’s a giant softy.” Harry groans at his words, Y/N’s smile only grew.

“Au revoir! Good Day!” She calls when they leave the shop rather swiftly. It seemed to her that Harry was desperate to get his mother out of the shop as soon as possible, while Anne was happy to browse and look at what had been changed in the shop.

Their early unhappy encounters were now months ago. But encounters of a similar caliber happened at least once a week. It’s hard to avoid a neighbor who you seem to find anything they do to be an annoyance, even their existence. They saw each other around town and at their shops and in their bedrooms. Even though they didn’t particularly like each other, hated was actually the correct word, the drawing of the shades was a near impossible task with the heat that plagued the little town between August and Mid-October.

They had fought over who could leave their shade open and who couldn’t because Harry believed only one of them had to close it to maintain privacy but then he wouldn’t settle on an agreement on taking turns closing shades. Y/N argued that they could both leave them open if he would agree to stop walking around his room naked all the time, but he refused that as well, at first. He conceded after a week of having his shade drawn that he would wear boxers. Therefore, practically every night, Y/N and Harry would see each other before bed since they actually seemed to have the same sleep habits. Sometimes she would have to yell at him to close his window if he came home with a guest and he would yell at her to turn off her light if she was reading or watching television in bed too late.

Thankfully, it was approaching the end of October and the weather would begin to change. There wouldn’t be a reason to have the window or shade open and they at least wouldn’t have to see each other right before bed.

This morning, Y/N is up early, she found it amazing to wake up early here, something she had never done before this little border town. It was teaching her new things about herself and changing her, but she liked it. In deep forest green flared pants and a long sleeved rainbow striped shirt, Y/N is watering the planters in front of her shop as well as the little ones attached below the windows. It was always a little cool in the mornings, but she had checked her weather app and seen that it was actually going to be the first cold day of the season. The first cold day since she had arrived actually. As much as she liked the sun, she also loved fall and winter, so she was excited to experience them for the first time in the little border town.

She smiles to herself as she moves around gracefully. In her back pocket, her music plays softly, Paul Simon sings lovingly to her. She hums along and moves to deal with the planter at the edge of the sidewalk. But she’s foiled by a man she seems to think about far too much for how much she says she dislikes him. Harry jogs back a half step upon realizing he has run into her yet again. One would assume that one of them would either change their routine or know to step out of the way or really just be a little bit more aware of their surroundings with how many times this has happened since Y/N’s arrival. Of course, their stubborn personalities actually require them to be unrelenting in this area of their lives as well. Much like the shade debate, the who was in the way of who debate is still majorly undecided.

“Oi!” He looks down at his shirt and it has a substantial wet spot on it. She had spilled some of the watering can’s contents.

“Excuse you!” She says simultaneously, not realizing she’d gotten water on him.

“I’m not the one who just threw water on someone.”

“Neither am I. You ran into me, it’s not my fault you never look where you’re going.”

“You’re just always in my way. This has been my route for ages, I’m not going to change it just because you moved in next door.” His hands fly around in annoyance and anger.

“You’re unbelievable!”

“Well! I can’t stand you!

“Clearly!” “Cleary.” They’re both huffing out insults that don’t seem to really be going anywhere. Harry has straightened his posture for once and she actually finds his true height slightly intimidating. They both breath for a moment, finding no other words to fill the tranquil morning silence that they had just disturbed.

“Are we ever going to have a conversation where we’re not at each other’s throats?” She sighs, feeling upset that the nice Fall day was suddenly ruined for the rest of time just because of this.The bickering with Harry was tedious and she couldn’t keep going like this. Being in a completely new place and running a small business was hard enough as it is. Something snapped in her just then, hoping to squash a part of her life that is causing her stress and exhaustion.

Harry’s expression falters, his eyes losing that glint of angered passion for a moment, he wasn’t expecting that response. It wasn’t necessarily mean, it was more like she was resigned. Simply done with the conversation. He felt his anger and annoyance slip away rather quickly at her question. She sees his mustache twitch, which she realized happened when he was either amused or confused. She didn’t think what she said was funny so she presumed he wasn’t sure what to make of what she had just said. Her head tilts to the side and waits for his response. Her watering can falls to her side now, making herself a little more comfortable and leaving only a small amount of air between her and Harry.

“Tired out already? Thought you were more of a competitor than that.” He mirrors her by tilting his head as well.

“I didn’t realize we were in any sort of competition.” She stepped forward and straightened her posture a little, feeling challenged by the tone he had taken. She may have a kind and soft exterior for most, but she was nothing if not fierce in her core. She was an Aries afterall. She wondered what Harry might be, she wasn’t super into astrology, but she was sure that he wasn’t an Aries. Aries were fiery and passionate and were very unwilling to admit defeat, so he had just hit the exact right note to keep her from squashing their now long-standing quarrel.

“We’re not. I just thought I had met my match, guess I was wrong.”

He looks off in the distance to be nonchalant, like he wasn’t trying to bait her even if that’s exactly what he was going for. Sure, he found her annoying, for whatever reason. But he had realized when she had posed the question, that he hadn’t had this much excitement in a while. Nothing and no one really challenged him in the little border town, his work was easy enough, money wasn’t tight, friends were easily made, and partners for the night were easy to find. He didn’t dislike any of those facts, truly, he counted himself lucky and was overjoyed that he lived there. But the verbal sparring he engaged in with Y/N fulfilled a need he hadn’t realized was going unsatisfied. He would never admit it, but she was often a highlight of his day. Getting into a little quarrel with her brought a smile to his face when he recalled it later. The bird she had started to flip him before bed made him genuinely laugh. He liked it, so when she seemed to want it to end, he did what he knew would make her change her mind. Tease her.

“I see...bonne journée, cul.” She decided to bid him farewell, knowing he didn’t plan on apologizing any time soon. She turned her body from him and Harry understood enough French that she had ended the conversation with a “good day”. He also knew that she had called him an “ass” as well. His brows raised for a moment at the insult before giving a flicked salute in her direction and jogging off for his morning run.

For some reason, after a moment of knowing Harry had gone she glanced up in his direction and watched his retreating figure. And for some reason she found herself looking back down at the flowers and smiling to herself. Somewhere inside her she was glad Harry hadn’t given into her veiled request to stop fighting. It was a strange sensation because as tiring it was to bicker with him, she feared if they stopped then they would stop talking at all and her heart panged at the thought. She didn’t know why and she didn’t care to know why either.

The bell of the book shop chimes and Y/N pops up from behind the counter. She had been crouched out of sight trying to organize the books of notes on customers Marie had left that Y/N had only just found. She hadn’t realized the cabinet existed in the counter so when she accidentally slid it open she was a little taken aback. Still, she was quickly distracted by the new customer. Her cream collared shirt was unbuttoned to where her collarbone and decalotage were on display, some gold medallions hanging around her neck today. Her worn light wash blue jeans were barely visible behind the counter due to her height. In her hair was a classic red bandana, pulling back her hair out of her face save for the strands that worked themselves free on their own accord.

Her smile was wide, happy to see the first customer of the day as she pinched at her shirt to make sure it was in place. Her posture slumped immediately when she realized that her first customer wasn’t a likely customer at all, instead who else but Harry. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he strolled in and right up to the counter. He leaned his large body down to rest his head in his hands and look up at her. He crossed one ankle over his other, getting comfortable as he stared wickedly up at her.

She wet her lips and took a step back. It was her first look at him today, apparently missing him on his morning run. Maybe she should have thought something of that after their encounter yesterday, but she didn’t. Like most days, his trousers were high waisted, Gucci likely - how he afforded them, she had no clue - and his usual shirt had now been accompanied with a striped red, black, and yellow open cardigan. His hair looked wet like he had just taken a shower, most of it was pushed up but a few strands fell over his large forehead. His mustache looked freshly trimmed and the rest of his facial hair had yet to leave any shadow after his obvious shave.

“Harry.” She says definitively, regarding him with even contempt.

“Ice Queen.” He levels, eyes narrowing.

She scoffs immediately. “At least give me something original...or accurate maybe. I may not like you, but ice queen? Hardly.”

He genuinely chuckles at her quick response and nods, agreeing easily with her for once. “You’re right. It was weak, I’ll admit. Feel like you need a nickname though, thought something really rude might upset you.” He smirks cheekily. His agreement doesn’t make her feel like she’s won at all, unsurprisingly.

She rolls her eyes at his comment. “Care to let me know why you’re gracing me with your presence today, Mr. Styles?” Moving around the counter, she begins to walk to the back of the shop, assuming Harry would follow her if he needed to. He apparently did and walked after her after realizing she wasn’t coming back.

He gives a half-laugh, “Yeah, I came in for a new record. I saw you decided to restock them...thought I’d pop in. It’s easier to get them here than order online...Curtain-hater.” He adds the name as an afterthought.

She glances at him from the bookcase she’s standing at, her eyes shifting to meet his. A smile fades into her features as she can’t contain the giggle at his new attempt at a nickname. She then wrinkles her nose, “That isn’t good either, but proficient try, I guess.” She gives him points for actually relating the name to her in some way, but it still doesn’t incite any anger in her which she knows is what he is going for. She probably should question herself why she’s helping Harry to nickname her something rude, but alas, she doesn’t. He nods solemnly, knowing she’s right again. He needs to find a nickname for her and he doesn’t know why, but he’s glad she seems alright with him giving her one, so long as it is fitting.

Her body shifts from the bookcase over to the boxes she had gotten to hold the vinyls. She had a small collection since the place was small overall, but Marie’s old collection had sold successfully so she had restocked afterwards, this time choosing some of her personal favorites.

“I’m not sure of your taste...I know you bought Marie’s Ella Fitzgerald album last time.” She sifts through the records, trying to find something she thought he might want. Like she said, she didn’t know what he liked, but she prided herself on knowing music and as an owner helping a customer, she wanted to please Harry. She knew he liked Ella from his previous purchase and she knew he liked Marvin Gaye in the evenings when he had guests - how very cliche she would add. “I mostly got in 70’s/80’s rock...Elton, Queen -”

“Got any Paul Simon?” Harry cuts her off and she looks at him surprised. Her fingers stopped when she looked up at him, their tips placed on the peaks of the albums covers. “Thought I heard it here the other day?”

Her face perks up at the mention, she loved Paul Simon. “That was on my phone, but I do actually. Well, it’s Simon & Garkunkel. I can order something from just Paul Simon whenever I have to order again if you want?” Their gazes are holding each other’s, her fingers still rubbing over the pointed edges of the two albums she had between her hands. Harry’s watching her and leaning against the table the boxes sit on.

He nods after a moment. “That’d be great.”

“You’ll have to tell me which records of his you already have so I can order something new for you.” She grabs the Simon & Garfunkel album and flips it to Harry so he can look it over.

He regards the Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme cover reading over the fine print with all the tracks listed on the bottom right. “Thanks,” he mutters out after another moment of silence. It was rarely this quiet between these two, so it was different. “I’ll take it, Shrimp.”

“Oh my god!” She gasps before bursting into a fit of laughter. He had actually made her laugh and his eyes widen at the sound, almost confused that she hadn’t scoffed. Her laughter was far louder now then the half-hearted chuckle she had given earlier, which really was probably just another scoff. This laugh was loud and unbridled, but melodic and fun. In the back of Harry’s mind, he noted that he liked it. The first bullet point on a list that was likely to grow. “That works, just the perfect amount of rude. I love and hate it at the same time.” She finishes before walking back to the front. Harry saunters after her, pleased with himself.

“I’d like to say I wasn’t looking for your approval, but I guess I sorta was,” he ponders out loud as she takes the record back from him to type in the correct spelling into her relatively new computerized system. She twists her mouth to the side of her face to refrain from smiling anymore and then hums. Her eyes flit back up to Harry’s triumphant smile and for once she doesn’t want to slap it off of him.

“People-pleaser…” She prods him easily. His smile falters only slightly, not out of unhappiness, but of borderline jealousy.

“How do you come up with that so easily? It just rolls off the tongue,” He asks seriously, confused by the woman before him. This time she laughs as she hands him back the record and a copy of his receipt.

“I’m well read, that usually helps, but maybe it’s just my intrinsic wit that gives me an edge,” she raises her brows slightly, before beginning to walk off now that their exchange is done. She’s surprised she doesn’t want to rip her hair out after that encounter, but she figures she should simply count her blessings. “Au revoir, trouser-boy!”

He rolls his eyes as he turns on his heel and exits the shop, amused rather than annoyed with the bookkeeper.

enjoy! lmk what you thought :) part 2

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #once the slow burn ends #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #enemies to lovers!harry #enemies to lovers #slow burn #the france italy one is a fever dream au #little border town #not proofread at all

1K notes · View notes

jiminrings · 3 years

Note

BALLOON ANIMAL ARTIST JK I JUST FEEL LIKE HE WOULD BE REALLY GOOD AT IT AND MAKE YOU A FLOWER THEN ASK YOU ON A DATE

baby i love u and your big sexy brain <3 welcome to waikiki meets hospital playlist dynamic ft. balloon artist!jk

“who’s a good baby? is it you? iS IT YOU????”

you’d be the first one to admit that you had an exhausting horrible night

being a nurse sUCKS the life out of you and as much as it’s fulfilling, you almost always feel the urge to admit yourself to the ER for being extremely fatigued

it’s all worth it!! it should be

after all, paying for a mansion in an exclusive village and sharing it with your friends doeS warrant some elbow grease

seokjin works in wall street and sometimes he comes home crying but it’s okay because you do have an expensive fridge that everyone worked overtime for <3

hoseok’s a veterinary assistant and is your trusty friend who always sends in pictures of the animals that come in to cheer you up while at work

namjoon’s a painter by passion and accountant by profession!! he does only come out with a few pieces at a time but mAN does it rake in the money

jimin’s a flight attendant and does everyone the pleasure of securing either free or discounted tickets, and bringing home unused airline towels to dry off the dishes!!

lastly, taehyung’s someone you can call a former trustfund baby or somewhat :O the last big chunk of money he spent from his fund was the downpayment and security deposit for this mansion!!!

it’s a long story and he’s currently all over the place but he’s finding regular jobs!! his latest gig was working at a high-end ice cream place but he immediately quit once he learned that he needed to put his back into it and not just scoop up ice cream like he did in his dreams :((

most importantly, taehyung has a baby :-)

he’s a dad!! a single one at that

it’s truly a LONG story but the bottomline is that he has nabi, his cutest little dumpling!! and he has all of you, his friends who didn’t hesitate to step up as nabi’s parents in a way too even if he didn’t ask any of you

you all love the chunky monkey so much that you’ve all taken the liberty to call him your baby at times and tae doesn’t even mind!! nabi’s so lucky (he hopes) to have him as a dad and his friends as his cool uncles and aunt

nevertheless, you indeed had a bad night working the night shift and came home to nabi’s birthday party just in time!! :D

he turned two years old at midnight and even if you weren’t physically present at the mansion like the guys were (they requested their leaves two months earlier) because of being understaffed, you were able to see him and tae blow out multiple cakes that each one bought him

seeing him giggle at your arms just by doing the bare minimum makes you full already <3

all your exhaustion is melted away because it’s your favorite toddler’s birthday party!! the party that you all insisted on shelling out for that made tae almost cry bc of how much you all love his son

“jimin i am not sewing your forehead up when you end up falling in the wrong angle,” you roll your eyes at him who’s currently doing backflips in the bouncy house that managed to fit in the mansion

“hoseok can!!” he yells back and backflips twice in a row, much to the actual children’s amusement and your worry

“i will NOT stitch you up! the thread i have is for the pregnant dogs only!!!”

everyone’s entertaining guests left and right, including taehyung who’s the dad of the little man of the hour :D

he keeps pointing at nabi who’s currently in your arms every ten seconds and it’s now your job to make him giggle every single time to wave at the people

“what do you want, monkey? do you want some ice cream? i won’t tell your dad,” you eagerly ask the wide-eyed baby in your arms, pointing at the ice cream cart that namjoon probably ordered

“no thank you!” nabi cutely aND politely declines, his head shaking no and his speech and pronunciation getting clearer day by day

most of the time though he says it like tHANK YEWWWW and you would immediately grin every time because it’s the cutest thing ever

“hmm, look at that!! face painting!! do you want some butterflies?”

you point at yet another station that you guess seokjin arranged, knowing that at some point into this party, he’d all drag you in here to get matching marks or something lol

nabi once again declines, his eyes searching around that makes you do the same on what you could do to entertain him

he has the same habit down like taehyung and loudly gASPS, pointing his finger and almost shrieking in excitement

“bawoo — balloon!!! balloon!!!”

it is now your life purpose to walk as fast as you could to this balloon station with nabi bouncing up and down your arm in excitement

jungkook’s having the time of his life here :D

normally he’s mostly called in the holiday season and occasionally at big birthday parties (the one where like two sides of the family share every baby’s first birthday party lmao) throughout the year!!

but he’s never had a client who requested him for a singular birthday party!! let alone at a hOUSE

ok maybe that was an understatement

he means a mansion

if he’s being quite honest, the mr. park jimin he spoke to on the phone sounded too kind that he just mistakened him for a party planner or something

he immediately said yes because he had no on-site bookings for that day, or even the week perhaps, and expected to stroll into a carnival in the middle of an executive village

aha :D jungkook is wrong :D

jimin met him by the front door wherein a lot of people are already crossing paths such as catering and not to mention the bouncy house you cAN’T miss, and just briefly touched in on the situation

“oh no, i’m not the dad, man — but thanks!! i’m his uncle. nabi’s dad is my friend, taehyung. and me and my friends, including taehyung, all live here. we’re all like family, basically.”

jungkook saw the other stations invited and he expected that his would have less children y’know?? bouncy house, ice cream station, facepainting, hotdog cart aND magic show???? yeah <3

but god is he wrong

the children are in a single-file line for hIM and his balloon artistry!!! the requests range from pretzels to pirate hats to chandeliers with the bulbs as smiley faces!!!

he’s managed to do all of them so far and he’s now made a decent dent on the line of children waiting for him

jungkook is a happy and content balloon artist :D

“EXCUSE ME! BIRTHDAY BOY COMING THROUGH!!”

oh my god what was that

you’re walking at full-speed and holler out, making sure to emphasize birthday boy because nuh-uh you and nabi will nOT line up for his own party <3 thank you very much

the children coo and the older kids coax the other ones to make way for the both of you to the front of the line, immediately plopping to a mini chair in front of the guy

“hiiii!!”

nabi drawls politely and waves his hand, making you do the same

“what a cute little thing,” the guy in front of you coos and it’s his voice that perhaps makes you melt a little, just seeing the top of his hair for now because he’s crouching down to be eye-level with nabi, “what can i do for you, little buddy?”

he toothily grins and straightens his posture, raising his eyes to look at who’s holding nabi in place and-

???????????????????

jungkook literally stops breathing for a second

“h-hi!! what can i do for you today?” jungkook squeaks, his eyes even more wide and curious to look at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life

you’re sure that you were gonna stammer once you open your mouth so you don’t at all, instead focusing on nabi who’s on your lap

“what do you want, monkey?”

“nabi please! i want nABI!!! nabi nabi nabiiiiiiiiii-“

“yes. he wants nabi, please.”

jungkook nods fervently, his hands about to pluck ballons from his kit before he realizes to ask

“does he want his face? or like, his name? what colors do you want, bud?”

he’s not the least bit bothered at the choices in his head because you’re widening your eyes on what could this guy dO with just balloons, knowing to yourself that even pumping one is difficult work already

“oh! he wants nabi,” you clarify and jungkook tilts his head, mouth slightly agape at to what you’re trying to get at, “butterfly, i mean. nabi knows that his name means butterfly and he likes them a lot! don’t you, monkey?”

nabi nods so hard that it almost gives him a headache and jungkook wants to facepalm himself to the grave

“r-right! why didn’t i think of that?? because nabi means.... nabi....... right!! sorry, oh my god. o-oh! i meant oh my gosh. i uhm-...”

he’s a mess and he knows it, letting his hands take over and grab the same theme colors of blue and lavender from his bag to start on his work

kook tries not to lift his head up ever so often because you’d find him out instantly that he’s looking at you

so what he does instead is peer and coo at nabi every few seconds and tHEN look up at you because you also giggle whenever he giggles

he’s probably feeling pressure with the way your eyes are set on him too and what he’s doing that he pOPS a balloon right with his hands

“sorry, sorry! did i spook you?”

jungkook’s worried because he heard a collective gasp from the kids around him but his main priority is the birthday boy AND you

nabi’s shoulders rose and that’s about it

he shakes his head to himself, looking at you who’s carrying a curious gaze on your face that looks amused

“sorry. i-it’s just you’re so pretty and-“

he’s embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl and her son and-

wait a second

the color just dRAINS from his face and he’s about to quit at the second

“oh my god i am so sorry. y-you must be nabi’s mother. you’re mr. taehyung’s-“

“friend!! i’m y/n, i’m just taehyung’s friend,” you interject quickly because you cannot believe that pretty boy called you pretty, and at the next breath thought you were taehyung’s wife, “and nabi’s my nephew. we’re all just friends who live together!! i have no boyfriend, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

...

....

yeah maybe you embarrassed yourself this time

you may have said too much information to the balloon artist but jungkook’s just staring at you fondly

and nabi’s switching his gaze between the two of you and claps his hands to snap the two of you out of it lmao

kook chuckles to himself and he cannot stop smiling, even when he’s tying the last balloon to nabi’s butterfly

“there you go, cutie. happy birthday!!” he hands nabi the hUGE butterfly he just made but the sheer difference of how big it is makes the toddler even more happy, hugging it to his chest

jungkook watches you pepper kisses on nabi’s cheeks and that launches him into quickly pulling out balloons while your eyes are deviated from him, hands twisting and turning like his wHOLE LIFE depended on it

“my name’s jungkook, by the way,” he calls you when you’re just about to stand up, smiling giddily at you, “thought you should know.”

cute :-)

before you could thank him, he extends his arm and your mind recognizes the familiar shape which makes you smile instantly

jungkook made you a flower balloon <3

“i think i’ll remember you, jungkook.”

you laugh as the only thing you can smell from it is latex, the huge flower staring at you right in the face

jungkook sheepishly blushes, pursing his lips in happiness

“i’m free whenever you’re free — f-for a date, y’know? just so you could remember me more.”

bonus: dilf taehyung has his own drabble!!

bonus bonus: bestie anon brought my attention to these tiktoks below and gAWD i’m so happy <3

first, second

#drabble nights #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabbles #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario

99 notes · View notes

morosemagick · 3 years

Text

Meet me by the River Bend | Finan X Reader One-Shot

Warning: None

Words: 3919

Tagged: @osferth (thanks for that prompts list!!)

It's your favorite place in Wessex. This hidden river bend behind your home in Coccham. Most of the townspeople here don't realize it's back there. Deep enough for you to bathe, and hidden enough for you not to worry about men coming to spy on you.

It's your small touch of paradise.

You've been coming here for years now. When your daily chores are done and you're certain no one will need you, you sneak off to your special place. Sometimes you don't even bathe, just going by to dip your toes in and listen to the river's song. It's the best in the summertime when the water is its warmest and you can dress in your bare minimum while you waste your day doing whatever you choose.

You rather this simple life over anything else.

Until one day you notice someone has found your secret spot.

It takes you a moment, but you recognize this face. He's a warrior for Lord Uhtred, the Ealdorman of Coccham. You've seen him before in town, usually walking around with the Lord's other warriors or drinking at the alehouse.

If you're correct, he's the one they call Finan.

Afraid of being seen, you hide behind a tree to spy on him. It's probably wrong, but you're curious to see what this man is doing in your place. You can see him approach the river, squatting down and putting his fingers into the water to perhaps check its warmth. After a moment or two, he rises, shaking off his wet finger, and then wipes it on his trousers.

What happens next makes your jaw drop.

He starts to strip away his clothing. Starting with the belt that carries his blades and then his shirt. You can't help but gawk as he works at every button till the end, then pulling the shirt off his body. As he bends down to drop his on top of his blades, his body turns till his bareback is facing you.

And the sight of it makes you gasp.

Finan snatches the shirt up and puts it back on, and you manage to hide behind the tree. You try to cover your mouth with your hand, but you're certain you've been caught.

You can hear him pick up his sword, and then you hear the sound of footsteps approaching you, "I know you're out there," he calls out as he creeps closer, "Come out now, and I swear I won't hurt ya."

"I didn't mean to spy on you, Lord, I swear it," You tell him, still cowering behind the tree.

"I'm not a Lord, darlin', no need to hide," Finan is smirking when he comes face to face with you, "If you wanted to watch me bathe, all you needed was to ask."

He's much more handsome than you realized now that he's in arms reach, and suddenly you're blushing uncontrollably, "I was not-"

"I'm only kidding, I swear it," He smiles, holding his arms up in truce, "What is a good Christian woman like yourself doin' alone in a place like this?"

"I was going to ask you the same question," you say, straightening yourself to seem more confident, "How did you find this place?"

"I usually bathe more up the river, but it seems others found my space so I came more down for some peace," Finan crosses his arms, and your eyes can't help but look at his bare chest and the blade you almost forgot he was carrying, "And you?"

"I, uh," You point behind him and chuckle, "Live not far from here. This is my secret place."

"Is it now?"

"It is," You tell him, and he smirks at you, "And I would prefer if you bathed somewhere else."

Finan chuckles, and takes a step forward, "And if I choose not to?"

You're already backed into the tree, so there's nowhere else to go as he hovers over you, "I.. I'll-"

Finan’s smirk becomes a full smile as he laughs and backs away, "I am teasing, darlin', I'll get out of your hair. I wouldn't want anyone to think anythin' of us being alone back here."

"I will not tell, if you don't," The words come out of your mouth so quickly you barely have time to register what you've just told this man.

Finan's brow raises as he crosses his arms again, "Are you propositioning me, lady?"

"No, of course not!" You argue and he smiles again, making your knees feel surprisingly weak, "I only mean to say, if you do not look my way then I will not look yours. We can share this place."

"You wish to share this place with me?" He questions.

"As long as you promise not to look and you stay on your side of this tree," As soon as the words come out you realize what you've asked of this and it's probably the dumbest thing you've done but it's too late because the words have already been spoken, "We keep our eyes to ourselves, deal?"

You put your hand out for him to shake, and a second later he shakes it, "Deal, Lady-"

"Y/N," You tell him with a faint smile, "I am not a lady, I'm just… Y/N."

"Well you have yourself a deal," Finan smirks as he lets your hand go and starts to make his way back to his things, "Just Y/N."

It's the way he looks at you as he walks away that makes you realize you've probably made a very big mistake.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

It rains for the next few days, so you do not return to the river bend until the sun has risen again. You head down at midday to get away from your family for some time. It's hard, being the eldest child. You feel like so much is expected of you, especially in a family of only daughters.

You expect talks of marriage will be in your very near future.

When you arrive at your secret place, Finan is already there. You can tell because there are clothes all laid out neatly as well as a belt with two blades close to the water. As per your pact, you do your best to keep your eyes ahead of you and not spy on the man you've decided to let into your space.

Though you would very much like to look.

You sit by the edge of the water, taking off your shoes so you can stick your feet in the water, and just as you lay back onto the grass you hear water sloshing around and the sound of a certain Irish accent in the air.

"Y/N," You hear Finan call out, and you try your best not to look his way, "Nice seeing you here."

"I'd say the same, but I plan on upholding the promise I made," Finan laughs at your comment, and a smile forms on your face, "I am a good Christian woman, after all."

"Aye, so polite," He laughs some more and you can hear him moving through the water, probably making his way out, "Thank you for not tarnishing my pure reputation."

"I assure your pure reputation will continue to go unscathed," You chuckle and you can hear him getting out of the water, and the sound of swords in sheaths clanging lets you know he's probably getting dressed.

"Do you not wish to bathe today, Y/N?" He asks you, and you can hear his belt clang again.

"No…" You told him in a soft tone, your mood sobering up, "I only came here to escape, that's all."

"Escape what?" When you don't answer you can hear Finan moving around, and before you know it he's standing above you fully dressed, "Escape what, Y/N?"

You smirk at the sight of him, "You've crossed the tree."

"Aye, but my clothes are on," Finan smiles walking to your right and then sitting down next to you, "So are you going to tell me what has happened?"

You sigh and then sit up, pulling your knees to your body as you look out to the water, "I believe my family wishes me to marry soon."

You glance over to Finan, who is also staring at the water when he replies, "Ahh."

"My family is… well, we could use the silver," You explain as you put your arms around your knees and rest your chin on top of them, "I am the eldest, it's my duty to be married into wealth."

"But is being married what you wish?" Finan asks you in a tone that makes you glance his way.

It almost sounds like jealousy.

"I'm not sure," You tell him honestly, "What if he's awful?"

"What if he's hideous?" Finan jokes with brows raised and it makes you laugh, "I'm sure your father will not marry you to a cruel man."

"It's my stepfather who wishes to marry me," You explain, trying to maintain your smile but it's getting hard, "I think he tires of caring for me. I'm almost certain he wishes to be rid of me as soon as possible."

"Sounds like a bastard," Finan mutters in anger, and it catches you off guard. When he notices what he's said, he turns to face you, "I did not mean-"

You can't help but smile, "No, you are right. He is a bastard." Your smile maintains as you turn back to face the water, "I just wish I was free to choose, that's all. It might sound silly but I want to fall in love with a man, not just be forced upon him."

"That doesn't sound silly at all," Finan tells you with a soft voice, "Nothin' wrong with wanting to be loved, Y/N."

"Have you ever been in love?" You turn to ask him and you can see the expression on his face shift, "Finan? Did I say something wrong?"

He looks at your and his lip curls up, and something about the way his eyes stare into yours gives you butterflies like you've never felt before, "I have… a long time ago. Almost another life, even."

"What happened?"

Finan shrugs, looking back at the water as he answers, "I suppose.. it was not meant to be."

"I'm sorry," You tell him sincerely, "That sounds awful," he doesn't answer you immediately, and you wonder if you've maybe struck a nerve with your question. In hopes of redeeming yourself, you add: "Perhaps you will find love again," That catches his attention and it makes you smile, "A better one."

"I hope so as well," Finan answers with a smile much different than the others he's given you during this conversation. Something about it just makes your heart beat double time.

You wonder if perhaps these are the feelings you've been searching for.

You continue to meet Finan daily by the river bend, as long as the sun is out and there is no rain to stop you from leaving your home. You talk about everything and nothing, and over the next few months, you learn so much about each other. Finan tells you about his travels, and what it's like to be a warrior serving Lord Uhtred. Of his friends and fellow warriors, Sihtric and Osferth. You tell him about your family, how your father served in King Alfred's fyrd and did not come home after one battle. How your mother, now a widow, chose to marry a farmer to support her family and had many more children with him. How the man she married treats you more like the help than a daughter.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

Of all the things you speak of, Finan's family and his life in Ireland is never brought up.

You didn't want to push it.

He did, however, tell you of his life as a slave and how he met Lord Uhtred aboard a shave ship. All the things they overcame to be free, and the friends they lost trying to get home. It's how you learn why he chooses to bathe in private.

"There are scars… scattered all over my back," Finan tells you during one of your meetings, "Every time someone sees them, they ask how I got them. I hate talkin' about it… so I bathe alone."

"I didn't mean to-"

"I don't mind telling you, Y/N," he says with a smile, "You are good at secrets, surprisingly enough."

You laugh at his comment, and you stop when you realize Finan is staring at you, "What is it?"

"May I tell you another?" Finan asks in a quiet voice.

"Another… secret?" You question him with a raised brow. Finan nods, his face seeming more serious than you've seen it, "What is it, Finan?"

"I would very much like to kiss you, Y/N," His words make you gasp and you realize he's leaned in closer to you, "May I?"

"But your pure reputation," You smirk but your body is leaning in closer anyway, "We are good Christians, remember?"

"I will not tell, if you don't," Finan smiles as he puts his hand on your face to pull you in.

You glance at his eyes then down to his lips right before you lean in to kiss him, "Deal."

It's not your first kiss, that's for certain, but you've never had someone kiss you with so much passion before. Finan puts his other hand on your face and leans your head back to deepen the kiss. Your hands reach out for his shirt to pull him as close to you as you can, and the two of you fall back into the grass as the kissing intensifies. Finan's tongue slips in your mouth and you moan, his hands moving from your face down to your waist.

He's about to go lower, but you stop him.

You pull away from him with a worried look on your face, "We shouldn't..."

Finan looks a touch embarrassed as he gets up off of you, "I am sorry, Y/N,"

"No, it's not that I don't wish to kiss you," You are quick to explain as you sit back up, "It's just…" You don't wanna tell him, but you know you need to tell him soon before it's too late, "My stepfather has someone coming tomorrow… a potential husband."

"You're to be married?" He looks hurt, more than you anticipated and it hurts.

"I have no choice," Your lip quivers because the look on his face is just killing you, "He wants me gone before harvest."

"Perhaps I should go," Finan says as he jumps to his feet, and you jump up to follow him.

"Finan, Finan wait!" You call out as you chase after him, "I do not want to marry this man-"

"I will bother you no longer, Lady," he cuts you off as he keeps going, but you reach out to grab his arm and make him stop.

"Finan, please," Your voice cracks and you feel your breath starting to stutter, "I will never love this man," Finan doesn't look fully back, but his head is turned enough for you to know you have his attention, "my heart already belongs to you."

"I have nothing to give you, Y/N," Finan explains, keeping his face away from you, "No land, no home... I am just a warrior, loyal to my Lord. Every time we leave there is a chance I will not come home. It is not an easy life."

"I do not want easy," Your eyes start to water as your hand drifts down his arm to his hand, "I want you."

Finan turns back and you find he's also been crying, but there's a slight smile on his lips and it makes you feel a bit better, "Do you now?"

"I do," You smile as the tears fall, "Always."

Finan moves back in to kiss you again, his hands moving frivolously across your body as he backs you up until you eventually hit a tree. His hands are making their way down your skirts as he starts to lift them up, and eventually, they find themself between your legs.

What he does to you next, here by this river bend, is far from Christian.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

You get back home later than you usually do, the sun setting as you walk through the door, and to your surprise, your mother and stepfather are waiting for you, along with another man you do not recognize.

"Where have you been!?" Your stepfather demands before you can even put down your things, "You have been gone for hours!"

"I went to bathe," You explain but your response is only a half-lie; you were indeed in the water… with Finan… and neither of you actually did bathe, "I did not realize how long I was gone."

"It's impolite to make your betrothed wait, Y/N," Your mother explains, and you give her a confused look.

"I do not have a-"

"Y/N, meet Oswald," Your stepfather cuts you off as he turns back to point to the other man in the room, "He has agreed to marry you, and for a mighty fair price might I add."

You look at the man, and then your stepfather with a worried look, "I do not wish to marry him."

"He's already paid the bride price, Y/N," Your mother tells you with a somber look on her face, "You leave for East Anglia in the morning."

"East Anglia?!" You take a step back in your shock.

"I have a lot of land, and plenty of space for all the children we will have," The man… Oswald smiles and it makes you shiver, "I promise you will enjoy being my wife."

"I don't want to marry you," You say again, because the first time was apparently not enough, "I refuse!"

"You cannot!" Your stepfather snaps, "You have been sold, you get no choice!"

"I will not marry this man, and you cannot stop me!" You yell, turning for the door and rushing out before anyone can stop you.

It's pouring now but that doesn't stop you as you make your way into the heart of Coccham in search of the man you much rather be betrothed to. Your first stop is the alehouse, where you know Finan frequents often with his fellow warriors, but he's not there. Instead, your eyes come across the other warriors he's usually with, Sihtric and Osferth.

They are drinking and laughing when you approach them, and you know you must look crazy with your body drenched but you do not care.

The monk-looking Saxon is the first to notice you, a kind smile on his face as he looks your way. He must be Osferth, "May we help you, lady? You seem troubled."

"You are Osferth and Sihtric, yes?" You ask as you look between the two of them, shaking in your soaked clothing, "Do you know where Finan is?"

"Ah, you must be Y/N," The Dane warrior, Sihtric, smiles as he turns to face you, "You just missed him, he's gone to meet with Lord Uhtred."

"Please, can you find him for me?" You ask out of breath, hoping they recognize the panic in your voice, "Tell him to meet me by the river bend, he will know what that means."

"Is there something wrong, Y/N?" Osferth asks as he and Sihtric exchange worried looks.

"I have no time to explain, please, promise me you'll tell him," You tell him and they both nod to each other and rise.

"We will, lady, we swear it," Sihtric tells you as he taps Osferth's shoulder and the two of them leave the alehouse with haste.

You only hope they find him in time.

It's still pouring, but it doesn't stop you from waiting in the rain for Finan to arrive. You wait behind a tree, the same one you hid behind the first time you saw him. You have been alone for a while, and part of you is starting to worry he will not show.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

Perhaps you have made a mistake?

Perhaps he does not love you as you thought?

The fear makes you nauseous. You had just given this man all you had to give, your womanhood slipped through your fingers to the sound of his soft words and even softer fingers. Now you wonder if all that happened was only so he could find his way between your legs.

Tears form in your eyes, and now you feel silly for waiting out here in the rain for a man who probably doesn't love you.

You want to move from where you're leaning against the tree, except you can't because your body slides down to the ground and you can help but sit there and cry. Crying like a child, as the tears on your face blending in with the rain hitting your face.

"Y/N?" The voice you hear calling out for you makes you jump for your feet, hiding behind the tree in hopes not to be seen. It's your stepfather, and he has found your secret place, "Y/N you show yourself this instant!"

You cover your mouth so he doesn't hear you crying, or breathing for that matter, and pray to God that he doesn't find you. You can hear footsteps walking nearby and your heart is beating double time as your eyes shut tight in fear, but then you feel a hand across yours.

"Do not fear, Y/N, it's me," Finan's voice whispers as your eyes open quickly. There's a serious look on his face, his eyes peeking around the tree, "He's leavin'."

You both stand there in silence for a while, Finan's eyes watching your stepfather and yours watching Finan. Sometimes passes, and then Finan sighs as his eyes drift back to you.

"He's gone," Finan tells you as his hand moves from over yours to over your cheek, "Are you alright?"

"You came for me," You tell him in shock as your hand lowers to your side.

"Of course I did, Y/N," Finan smiles as he rubs your cheek with his thumb, "I love you."

"You do?" Your eyes are watery again but this time your tears are joyous.

"Aye," He nods as he leans in for a quick kiss, "I do, and I will not let you marry the man that bastard has chosen."

"His name is Oswald," You explain to him with a frown, "He's already paid the bride price…"

"And I plan on offering more," Finan explains with a smirk, "I have borrowed silver from Lord Uhtred. Whatever that man had paid, I will pay double."

"I cannot possibly be worth that much," You chuckle in disbelief over what he's told you, but Finan just smiles, "I am just Y/N."

"No," He shakes his head as he leans in to kiss you again, "You are everything, Y/N."

It must be true because you return back to your family's home with Finan where he offers just that for your hand in marriage and your stepfather and Oswald agree for the exchange. You do not return to that house again, because that place is no longer your home.

And the next time the sun shines again, you and Finan return again to the river bend. Where you share this special place with those you both care for the most, as they gather together to watch you two marry.

Here, in this place, special to you always.

#finan the agile #fanfiction #one shot #finan x reader #the last kingdom #tlk #tlk finan #but i guess stiLL angst #fluff

131 notes · View notes

chemicalpink · 4 years

Text

Starring Role ♡ Kim Namjoon

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Genre: smut, angst

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: unprotected sex, emotionally unavailable Namjoon, infidelity, dubious consent

A/N: HELLO I am back with this series I’m so sorry it took so long I’m trying my best at organizing my life but you know how it goes. I really liked this one so I hope you do too, please let me know what you think! I love you!

Summary: I don’t love you, big fucking deal. Don’t ever tell me how you feel. I know you’d rather walk alone than play a supporting role but you can’t get the starring role.

You toss on your bed for what feels–and probably is– the millionth time, a light breeze coming from the open window that helps your shivers intensify as you try to cuddle further into the bedsheet, the body sleeping soundly beside you doing nothing to keep you warm or even help you sleep. Namjoon’s naked and very much toned back greets you after you quickly glance to the alarm clock: 4:55 am, without even a blink of sleep in.

So you see, Namjoon is a great guy, he really is, it’s just that well- he likes to keep to himself, and not in an ‘I’m dark and mysterious’ type of way, but as in ‘I’ll talk about my feeling over my own dead body’ type of way. They could be so similar and so difficult to identify one from another. That’s what lured you in.

You can still remember the first time you met him, as every story out of a movie. Perhaps that was the first red flag. Real-life isn’t a movie after all. Being a party animal isn’t really how you could describe yourself, but sometimes, things get lonely and what better way to drink your problems away than to do so with a bunch of strangers right? After a few beer pong rounds and shots accompanied by intoxicated dancing in the middle of the living room and in front of the TV, you took a seat next to this good-looking blond guy with his eyes stuck on his phone screen, tongue lapping over his lips over and over again.

“Wouldn’t mind being your phone screen right now if it meant you staring at me like that” you blurted out, perhaps it was time to go home. The good-looking stranger immediately locked his phone and put it away while turning to look at you, a smirk on his pretty face.

“Well I guess tonight’s your lucky night then” if he was as intoxicated as he later claimed to be – which you are still doubtful of– he didn’t look like it. Plus, your bubbly drunk self didn’t help one bit to the situation.

You both started talking, Namjoon smiling at every word that came out of your mouth, his hand not so subtly touching your leg while you found weirdly specific excuses to touch his arms; the third time your eyes drifted off to his lips you asked him to walk you to the kitchen –arguing that you didn’t want to fall over with your heels.

You had barely grabbed his hand, gaze clear with your intentions when his hand wrapped itself around your waist, hot against your exposed skin. His lips were on yours the second you found yourselves inside the kitchen, hands all over each other, no clothes taken away but rather bunched up or around the ankles to give access to the ministrations, thankful for the loud music covering up the sounds of what was going on on the kitchen counter.

There wasn’t a single week after that you could go without Namjoon–which by the way, took you three more fuck dates to get his name. He was just that addicting. Friends with benefits. Not even friends. More like acquaintances that got used to fucking their frustrations on the other. More suiting.

The sun wasn’t even in the sky for it to come through the blinds, but the moonlight did a pretty good job at illuminating the man’s face, the most beautiful you had seen. Your fingers started tracing the side of his face feather-like, down his naked torso and you couldn’t help but wonder when exactly your heart started skipping a beat at the thought of him out of normal settings. The man could barely hold a conversation with you if he wasn’t pumping himself in and out of you. Hell, you didn’t even know what he did for a living.

“Music” he had said one day when he showed up to your apartment, eyes puffy most probably from crying–but you wouldn’t dare ask, his lips working wonders on your exposed cleavage skin. That was just the effect he had on you. Namjoon had to do the bare minimum to get your panties wet and he knew it well. Since day one. Eight months later, somehow he still had the same effect on your body.

So what if you weren’t able to drink your problems away back then when clearly Namjoon’s dick could distract you enough from them. Even when he was, indeed, the biggest of them all.

You decide to get out of bed and start making breakfast, a first attempt at making him stay a little while longer. Bravery for the not-so-newly found feelings, you tell yourself.

You are about to plate the most perfect sunny-side-up when the door to our apartment clicks shut; you don’t even have to check your bedroom to know that Namjoon is missing, you just sigh to yourself and try–and fail miserably– not to feel the void inside your heart. It had been like that since forever. Namjoon isn’t one to stay over longer than a necessary nap after sex, or visit earlier than 10 pm; you couldn’t quite stop the feelings of regret and self-hatred once you had your hopes up anyway.

“Nah, that asshole left again?” Seokjin, your best friend said as soon as he entered your apartment, a common occurrence for him to just stop by from time to time, and obviously up to date with the whole Namjoon fiasco “Y/N, sweetheart, I love you so much but you are a fucking dumbass”

This surely wasn’t the first time Jin had tried to convince you to leave Namjoon for good, saying that you deserve so much better than to be abandoned in the middle of early morning and no words until your clothes came off, but there was just something in Namjoon that your friend would never understand.

A good talk with Seokjin later (not without his constant mother-like behaviour) you find yourself ignoring the third notification in a row from your phone, quite out of character for Namjoon really. So what if ignoring him from time to time giving you a sense of control, a fake one at that, cause deep down both you and your lover know that he is the one that has you wrapped around his little finger. He should begin to learn his lesson that you are more than just a fuckhole he can access whenever it’s convenient for him– Seokjin’s words, not yours, but they work either way.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Y/N! Ignore his ass!” he takes a sip out of whatever it was he found in your kitchen and decided to serve it in a mug “You know, I was actually supposed to go to a family gala tonight, why don’t we both show up and get wasted in name of ou retrieving control of your life?”

The suggestion doesn’t sound so bad, perhaps you could even find someone that would actually like more than sleeping around, or just- someone to distract you for the night, the way it had happened back then with Namjoon.

“Yeah, I’m totally in, come back at 8?” you suggested to Seokjin, to which he clapped his hands together in an overexaggerated manner before hugging you goodbye and disappearing out the door.

Your phone did ding a few times while you were dressing up, a few others inside Seokjin’s car to the gala before arriving at the beautiful hotel from where a bunch of overly dressed people walked in and out of.

You and Seokjin are soon enough inside the building, him handing you a champagne flute from a waiter passing by, gingerly taking a sip out of it before time seems to come to a halt all at once, throat closing and almost projecting the amber liquid into the floor when you dance your eyes around the room and they settle on a much too familiar figure– Namjoon. All suited up from head to toe, a side of him that you had never seen before, the again, you can’t really say you know a side of him anyways. He laughs in a way that you wished you had seen before and under other circumstances, before he places his hand – the one that you’ve had around your throat and inside your cunt countless times– around the waist of the woman beside him, your heart stops beating for a second as you watch her show off her ring finger with a sparkly rock on it, head turning to place a sweet kiss on Namjoon’s cheek. Your whole world seems to tumble down at the sight.

“Y/N? Is everything okay sweetie?” Jin turns to you from where he was talking to some of his friends

“Yeah, I’ll just- I need to use the restroom” you smile a tight lip smile at his companions before scurrying down the hall, a few heads turning to your direction at the somewhat of a commotion of someone actually running and the sound of heels against the marble floor.

You hang your head low on the bathroom counter in front of the mirror, there was, indeed, a part of you that knew it was most likely for Namjoon to have a girlfriend, but a fiancee? And the fact that you were the one he was cheating on with? It was about time you hit rock bottom though, Jin had been telling you on and on that Namjoon seemed the type to have a lot of secrets, then again, you didn’t listen.

Sure, your heart seemed to break a little– or a lot. But dear, the poor girl out there with a ring on her finger, if she only knew- that the man she was about to marry sleeps on your bed most of the time after he had fucked your brains out.

The sound of the bathroom door closing makes you turn towards it “You might as well be naked with that dress” Namjoon groans as he clicks the door locked and starts walking towards you, cornering you against the sink. He chuckles as his hand starts fiddling with the end of your dress, tracing the inner part of your exposed thigh “There is no way in hell you’ve got panties on you right now”

“Namjoon!” you swat his hand away but his smirk just deepens as his other hand presses you against him

“Kim Seokjin huh?” he turns you so his crotch presses on your ass, his hand making you face yourself on the mirror “You really think he can fuck you better than I can?” you let out a breathy moan as he finally reaches down your dress as his skilled fingers caress your folds roughly, teasing your entrance as he humped against you at the same time, the familiar burning feeling in your belly forming already, but you are able to fight it enough.

“You never told me you were engaged” your eyes search his in the mirror.

He groans and finally inserts his fingers in you, making you tumblr forward at the invasion “ah… details, Y/N”

Your mind gets blurry and whatever words of protest die in your mouth as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you, your legs buckling but him keeping you standing as he seemingly had the fun of his life at seeing you like that “Look at yourself, Y/N” his hand cups your cheeks and turns you to your reflection, hair dishevelled, face flushed as he stood behind you, lips closing in your ear “Sometimes, you just have to settle for the supporting role, baby”

You moan in response, or at least at what you meant for it to be a response, since you are cut short by the sound of Namjoon’s zipper followed by the feeling of his exposed cock coating itself in your juices, teasing your cunt, which made you grip the counter tighter “I need you to understand something, Y/N” he slides in, barely giving you time to adjust before he starts moving inside of you “There will never be a ring around your finger” his hand goes down to cup your pussy, large fingers playing with your clit, making you arch back into him, forced once again to examine the image in front of you, reminded that somehow you had signed up for this yourself and was never meant to escape “But you’ll always have me in your bed”

He picks up the pace, lewd noises resounding in the acoustic of the bathroom, skin against skin harmonising with moans and grunts, Namjoon speeding up his hips, the extra stimulation on your clit forcing you to climax at the same time as he spilled inside of you, hot against your walls, your arms trying and almost failing at keeping you on your feet as your legs continued to spasm after he pulled out “You might want to find a way to keep it in” Namjoon mutters against his breath as he fixed himself, referring to the way his cum was already dripping down your inner thigh, before walking at the door

#hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #bts imagine #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon scenarios #namjoon oneshot #namjoon fic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #rm smut #rm imagine #rm x reader #bts angst #namjoon angst

239 notes · View notes

devils-dont-cry-enough · 4 years

Text

if this actually reaches anyone, here's a TW. Suicide, death, molestation. Nothing graphic but it’s there.

I don’t say how I feel very often but I am tired of feeling so much. I just want to die sometimes, then other times I want to live to spite myself. I have no one. No matter how many people say I have them I know I don’t. I am a realist, and when I say there is no one that chooses me first I mean it. I ask for the bare minimum. I don’t want to bother others. Maybe I am not that important in the world but it is so hard to struggle with all of what I am feeling alone. No one hears me. No one is ever listening. I try so hard to be strong. I tend to turn to drugs and alcohol so I can feel less useless, because when I am drunk out of my mind of zooted to the point I can’t move it is so much easier to deal with the fact that I have become a complete and total failure. I used to have so much motivation and will, and now I am failing 4 core classes, I am have become an alcoholic, and I use drugs as a crutch. I was in a place where I felt loved for 5 months than came back to where I felt out of place. Even though I felt loved though where I was I didn’t feel quite right either. I never feel right. My father passed away a little over a year ago. He died the day before fathers day. He was the only person who actually listened to me when I talked. I have a habit of rambling, and when there is attention on me for more than a moment I feel like I’m talking too much. When I am over looked though I tell myself that this is normal for someone as insignificant as me. The times I feel the most beautiful is when I am disheveled and alone. I don’t feel so lonely when there isn’t anyone around to not be with. When people are sleeping life seems so much easier. When I’m sleeping life seems so much better for them. When I don’t say anything about myself it is so much easier than when I actually do try and open up, and am completely over looked. I’m used to coming in second. I came in second to my own molester all my life, up to this day. it’s almost 2 am and I can’t stop my mind. It is constantly racing with my failures and what should have been. When I had a therapist, she said not to use the phrase “I should” or “I shouldn’t”. I know she’s right but I should have stayed on the path I was on. I have tried to kill myself 6 times. I couldn’t even do that right. One time when I was in middle school this man came to speak to my entire grade. His son killed himself after being physically bullied, and had finally retaliated. His son ended up getting in trouble for defending himself, and killed himself in the school bathroom by hanging himself with his own belt. That made me start thinking. This man would not have been there if it weren’t for his son killing himself. He wouldn’t have been there trying to convince kids to not kill themselves at the ripe ol’ age of 11-14. Then a thought came to mind. What if some people are meant to die. What if some people are meant to kill themselves. Everyone has a purpose in life, right? They make an impact on at least a few people. What if I was put on this earth to die, from suicide, none the less. When I put my thoughts out like this, it makes it easier to understand that not a single person cares about me enough to help me. I have asked for help so many times. I have asked for help from every member of my family. I have asked a God I have yet to believe in again to help me. I have asked my friends and told them my story only to have them leave me in the end. I know no one will, and if by any chance this reaches some one like me that wants others to live, and loves humanity so much that they cry over simple stories of people loving one another, people caring enough to give their life for someone, normal people that become heroes because they feel it is the right thing to do, don’t feel the need to say that this isn’t the end of the line for me. This is not me declaring I am going to kill myself or anything. This is just me stating the facts. No one will ever care about me the same way I care for them. No one will ever feel the things I feel so intensely. No one will really truly understand how I feel, and that may be because I never want to let them in, but I don’t let people in for good reason. I know they’ll leave me after using me for emotional support. I also know no one will actually read this, and I feel stupid and silly for even entertaining the idea that they will. In the end though, that’s the type of person I am, an optimistic realist, and someone who will never feel another person as intense as them. In the end, I am a nobody, an outcast, and all alone.

#is it too late?#is it too late to save me?#tw #suicide #depression #depressing shit #i'm sad #i'm tired #i'm done #my story #my life #my death

29 notes · View notes

loveislattes · 4 years

Text

Patience Is Key (Darkiplier/Fem!Reader) Chapter 2 (End)

Commission prompt: Reader only knows that sex is pain, so Dark shows her otherwise…?

Mentions past abusive relationship but doesn’t go into any detail!

Content: Smut, smut, smut, smut! Some demon tentacle/tendril play, dom/sub themes, biting, and mentions of praise!

A/N: I hope it was worth the wait, guys! Love you all! Also! I was listening to Two Feet- Momentum EP on repeat while writing the smut. If you haven’t heard it, I would DEFINITELY encourage you to! Its sultry and enticing and just lovely.

@heapass0

@underthedark13

@moriimae

@oi-fischfuck

@beck384

@book-of-roses

@therealcap

It was a strange arrangement, living with a literal demon, but it wasn’t bad. Knowing there was a badass immeasurable force protecting the house kept my anxiety to a bare minimum. Not to mention, for his talk of being around more, we weren’t usually in the house at the same time. Oftentimes the only way I’d know he’d even been in the building was the fact my closet door was open. On the rare occasion that we were actually home together, it was just like being with any other roommate. Sometimes he’d stay in what was now designated as his bedroom and other times he’d read beside me on the couch while I watched movies.

No matter where he was or what he was doing, he was quiet; which was a pity because he had such a beautiful voice but it was also probably for the best considering how much I’d come to enjoy it. Hell, I just enjoyed being in his presence in general. Serene though he was, he was good company. He was always such a good listener and found ways to keep my talking about myself which usually was a topic I avoided. He made me feel comfortable, important, despite the fact he was leagues above me in the order of the world.

I let out a little sigh and rolled onto my back, letting my tablet fall to the bed beside me in favor of wrapping up my stomach. Anytime I thought about him I got those annoying little butterflies in my gut. Why did he have to be so damn attractive? Not just physically, either, although I’d be the first to admit his looks alone could bring me to my knees. Our personalities meshed so well together. I’d never met another person- being- who actually enjoyed sitting in another’s company in silence. Everyone always felt the need to be doing something, but I preferred just being side by side with our own activities. Mixed with that fact he was undeniably genius-level smart and courteous in a way most human men weren’t- I didn’t stand a chance.

“What a perfect asshole,” I huffed quietly.

It was late and I knew I had to try to get some sleep before work tomorrow. Unfortunately, that would mean I’d have to stop daydreaming and actually sleep but once I started thinking about Dark, it was almost impossible to stop. Work was already a hellish land without exhaustion so it was with much grumbling and sighing that I rolled over onto my side and forced my mind quiet.

Think of something calming. Rain; Watching a storm through the bedroom window at night. Listening to the raindrops and staring out at the dark sky. Dark… Would he be the kind of person who enjoyed watching storms too? Or even stargaze? Damn, how amazing would it feel to cuddle up to him on the roof and stare up at the sky? - Fuck, no! Stop it brain.

Despite burrowing under the covers and wrapping up like a human burrito, I just couldn’t get my mind to shut up. My body was nearly humming with thoughts of him. After half an hour of tossing and turning, I gave in to my baser instincts. It was the one thing I knew would knock me out easily. Throwing my blankets aside, I snagged my trusty toy from the bedside table and switched it on.

The instant I felt the vibrations on my clit my body nearly melted in place.

“Fuuuuck, yeah. This was a good idea,” I mumbled weakly.

Legs falling aside, I let the vibrator go to work in all the right places. The stress of the day, of my crush on my demonic roommate, slowly ebbed away to be taken over by that familiar pleasure. Unbidden fantasies of Dark slowly danced their way into my thoughts and an overwhelming shudder wracked my form; How he’d look over me, how his fangs would feel against my skin, how his voice would echo in the throes of passion.

“Oh Dark! Shit!”

Mewls of his name filtered out over and over as I quickly neared the edge of bliss. It was so close I could practically taste it, the tendrils teasing up my calves in anticipation. A dreamy giggle escaped my lips as I felt an unexpected tickle behind my knees. It wasn’t until what I thought were the imaginary tingles of my impending orgasm solidified into a bruising hold that I realized it wasn’t just my mind.

“Wha-!!”

Before I could even protest, I was jerked towards the edge of the bed with a force almost inhuman.

“Oh, please, don’t stop on my account. I just wanted a… better view.”

That voice. Mortification rolled like bile up my gut as I jerked upright. It was with burning cheeks that I jerked my blanket over my lap, earning a chuckle from the intruder.

Dark smirked from his spot against the closet door, looking way too casual for someone who’d just caught me moaning their name.

“You know I could just remove that if I really wished to,” he hummed lowly.

I was trying to find some snappy retort when suddenly I felt the thing holding my right leg let go and push up the blanket before dropping it once again symbolically.

“Wait, these- that’s you?” I whispered in disbelief.

Without a second thought, I jerked the blanket away and stared in awe at the smokey black vines wrapped around my legs. I tried to follow them to the source but they ended up blending it with the darkness of the floor halfway to Dark.

“Yes, they are a part of me,” he finally replied.

I knew I most likely resembled a fish out of the water with how I gaped at him but it was taking my brain a little while to catch up. While I knew he had powers beyond my comprehension, I hadn’t even imagined something like this.

“O-Oh,” I whispered.

His amused chuckle brought my attention back up to him, only now he was much closer and I was reminded of just how obscenely I had been saying his name minutes ago.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

He put up a hand and I went silent immediately, unsure of how this was going to play out. Those damned butterflies were going crazy in my belly again under the weight of his stare and I couldn’t resist the need to look away, finding a particularly interesting bit of carpet to the right instead.

“You were calling for me. I was concerned that your former lover was back causing trouble, but imagine my delight at walking in on such a beautiful sight,” he sighed, head tilting with a little grin, “I also couldn’t help but notice that I seemed to be the cause of your desires.”

A small part of my pride still felt disgruntled by the shock but overall I was stunned by his admission. He liked that he walked in on that? He called it beautiful… Oh fuck. Swallowing thickly, I tilted my head back and met his gaze nervously. There was a flash of fang as his grin widened into a sly smirk and I instantly felt my pussy throb in need; To have those teeth around my throat, in my skin, god what I’d do.

“You seem to be having some trouble there, darling. Would you be oh so kind and allow me to help you?” he purred, a low growl rumbling in his chest when he stepped closer.

I couldn’t manage a verbal response so instead, I nodded, probably a little too emphatically if his snicker was telling.�� Any embarrassment I felt evaporated the moment his hand cupped my jaw. I was so keyed up and touch starved that just that action caused my thighs to clench shut. His skin was cool against mine but not uncomfortably so. There was a small bit of callus on his thumb as it rubbed across my face and the texture sent shivers down my spine.

Suddenly his other hand came up and quickly tangled in my locks, jerking my head back as his other hand slid around my throat.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, “Are you sure you want to give yourself to me?”

Gulping, I nodded and managed to whisper, “I trust you. I know you won’t be like him.”

I didn’t even need to say the name. There had been an awkward discussion a few weeks back about what had actually gone down between my ex and I, without all the intimate details of course. The implication of what my ex had done now hung heavy in the air between us, thick and harsh, and I worried for a moment that I’d ruined the mood. His sharp sigh was the only warning I got before suddenly his mouth was on mine. I wasn’t even given time to respond before he pulled away just as quickly.

“This will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced, darling. I am nothing like anyone you’ve ever known. There are things about me that no human could compare to.”

As if offering an example, the tendril around my thigh slowly moved its way further up my thigh until it was mere centimeters from my aching core. It made my heart race but more than anything I just wanted him to continue.

“Even so, there will never be a moment that your consent will be in question, do you understand that? Sex is meant to be enjoyable for everyone involved. Even a demon like me lives by that principle,” he explained, “As such, I’ve grown rather fond of having you around these past few months and I’d rather not scare you off now. So if there is something I do that you’re not comfortable with, you will tell me.”

“Y-Yes,” I agreed softly.

There was that domineering attitude again. Not that I minded in any sense. It just added another layer to the safety I felt around him. Hell, I wanted him to be in control. It made things so much easier when I didn’t have to second guess if I was doing the right thing or if I was going to regret it.

“Now, lay back and continue while I get undressed,” he demanded huskily.

A little niggle of anxiety wormed its way through the comfortable haze around my mind when he pulled back and stared me down, but I shoved it away with a calming breath. I could do this. After steeling my nerves, I reached up and pulled off my nightshirt, tossing it to the floor and leaving my body completely bare- save for the teasing tendrils still wrapped around my legs like a wicked kind of ribbon.

Thankfully he started moving in suit, making me feel more at ease and less scrutinized. With a pillow propped under my head, I snagged the vibrator again and started it back up. It felt strange to indulge myself with the man of my desires mere feet away but there was also a strange sort of thrill to it. There was also the undeniable boost of confidence, the fact that a powerful demon wanted to see me; hell, that he wanted me at all!

I was slowly getting back into the rhythm when I became distracted by the sound of cloth dropping. When I looked back up, he was completely shirtless, suit jacket, shirt, and tie across the room on my dresser. He was already working on his slacks when our eyes met. Nervously my gaze dropped back down only to get enraptured by the sight of his pants opening. God, he had nice hands; big, veiny, strong.

With a shake of my head, I cleared my thoughts and solely focused on the vision before me. He took his time, inching his slacks down teasingly until his cock bobbed free. With a snap of his fingers, his pants were suddenly across the room with the rest of his clothes.

“Keep going,” he demanded.

I realized, with much chagrin, that I had completely stopped using the vibrator in lieu of watching him. I managed a soft apology before bringing the toy back to my clit. My eyes shut instinctively under the waves of pleasure that buzzed through my limbs, only to open once more in shock as I felt the smoky appendages on my thighs moving once more.

They moved slowly as if giving me time to rebuke their advances but eventually joined my hand between my thighs. They were neither warm nor cold, just about the same temperature as my body as they gently prodded between my lips.

My eyes sought out Dark once more only to be graced by the most stunning sight, the statuesque demon shamelessly stroking his cock slowly.

“O-Oh fuck!”

He smirked but didn’t say a word in reply, instead letting a little grunt fall from his lips.

Oh and how delicious it sounded. I couldn’t help the little whimper than escaped in return as the tendrils thrust in. It was both strange and enthralling, having something that should not exist touching me in such a private way. They moved much more dexterously than fingers, quick and flexible that more mimicked a tongue. It didn’t take long for him to find that erogenous patch of nerves deep in my core and set on a full assault.

“D-Dark, please!” I gasped needily.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered stiffly, slowly making his way toward the edge of the bed.

He was devastatingly gorgeous. Just the sight of his toned, naked body nearly sent me over. My fingers trembled in their hold of the vibrator when I finally caught sight of his bare cock, hard, thick, and standing centered perfectly between that drool-worthy adonis belt. As if sensing my faltering, he sped up the thrusts with a smirk.

“Fuck me!”

There was that arrogant chuckle again, “If you insist.”

The bed dipped by my feet and instinctively I threw the vibrator across the bed, spreading my legs as I heard the telltale thunk of the plastic hitting the floor. Cool hands ran up my calves and around my thighs before resting on my waist as he came to rest in place over me. I couldn’t hold back a whimper as I felt warm drops of his precum pool on my belly as he leaned in and kissed me hard. The sensation of his velvety smooth head rubbing against my stomach did awful things to the desire eating me up inside.

Thankfully he appeared to be affected just as much because it wasn’t long before he reached between us to situate his tip between my lips. Oh so devastatingly slowly he worked his way in, every inch better than the last.

“Ahhhha, god damn,” I gasped, fingers clutching at his solid forearms in search of stability.

It had been so long. So fucking long. Not to mention, the size difference between him and any other man I’d slept with was astronomical. Part of me basked in the care he was taking not to injure me, but the other part of me just wanted him to get it over with and fuck me into oblivion, no matter the consequences. Not that I could get the words out to ask for it; Struck dumb and useless by the overwhelming satisfaction wreaking havoc with my senses. After what seemed like forever, his hips finally came flush to mine and I was finally able to force my eyes open.

“Hello, darling,” Dark purred.

Goosebumps prickled every inch of my skin and my stomach flipped in shock at the depth his voice reached, the echoes mimicked by an ethereal blue and red glow pulsing around him. It only served to remind me that there was so much about him- and his kind- that I knew nothing about. How much power and ability he had hidden in the most beautiful body.

“You’re so gorgeous,” I gasped without much thought.

There was a twinge of confusion across his face for only a moment before he leaned back in and stole a brutal kiss. My lips ached under the pressure but I didn’t dare complain as his taste infiltrated my senses. Just as I was starting to run out of air, he pulled away and let out a huff of a laugh.

“You are, by far, the most curious and provocative human I’ve ever met,” he muttered.

In the next movement, quicker than I could fully comprehend, he had my legs jerked upon his shoulders and his hands on my hips. It was debilitating, the sudden change in position, and how perfectly full it left me. I wasn’t given long to marvel over it before his nails were biting into my skin, holding me still when his hips began slamming into mine. Hard. Demanding. Dominating. Every thrust burned his control into my mind like a branding.

It was almost too much of a good thing, so much raw energy, and emotion bouncing around like lightening in my veins. I couldn’t- wouldn’t- stop it though. My skin felt on fire and my cunt abused, and yet I had never felt anything so paradisiacal.

“Open your eyes. Let me see you,” Dark snapped suddenly.

The sight above me was one I’d give anything to see again and again for the rest of my life: his monochrome skin bathed in those celestial lights, the flex of his trim muscles with each thrust, the peek of fangs with every grunt and groan he unleashed. I felt a wave of indescribable emotion twitch in my heart when our eyes locked, and had to look away instantly.

“No, no, darling,” he grunted huskily, “Don’t shy away. The expression in your eyes is absolutely delicious. I want to see you, need you to see me, when I make you come.”

God, the way his voice reverberated in my head made everything else slip away. It was so easy to just listen to him. Meeting his gaze once more, I was blessed with the sight of pure adoration.

“There we go. Good girl.”

A zing of pleasure shot down my spine at the little admission of praise and tore a whimper from my lips.

“Now, I need you to do one more thing for me.”

He paused until I finally realized he wanted some sort of response.

“Y-Yes, fuck, of course. A-a-anything,” I moaned, ankles framing his neck as he gave a rough thrust of his hips.

Another smirk graced his lips when he said, “Come for me. Let me hear you say my name again so sweetly.”

Cheeks flushing, I managed a half-assed nod before my world went into chaos with a brush of my clit. It took a good few moments before I realized it had to be one of his shadows since both of his hands were bruising on my hips. That realization mixed with every little movement culminated into the start of an earth-shattering end. It was so hard to keep my eyes open under the building waves assaulting my core. I needed to though. If not for his satisfaction, then to see the way his face contorted in bliss. It was captivating and there was a sense of contentment that came with knowing he was feeling even a modicum of the pleasure he caused.

The brush of the tendril solidified into a movement almost tongue like at the same time that his hands moved from my hips. I nearly whined at the loss of his hold only to be placated by his grip resurfacing under my knees. Without warning, he suddenly sent my legs back towards me, holding them spread as he leaned over me and took up a brutal pace. It wasn’t but moments later that everything snapped.

I couldn’t hold back the scream that tore up my throat as my world shattered. Shocks of whites danced behind my lids with every pulse of bliss that rang through my core, radiating from my head to my toes behind every thrust of his hips. In a moment of weakness, I blindly reached for and snagged his hair, jerking on the silky locks needily.

“Pl- Fuck, god, Dark, please, wanna feel you bite me!”

His response was in a language that was both terrifying and beautiful, resonating in my chest heavily until he finally dropped my legs and leaned down over me. His scent was overwhelming as he surrounded me in nearly every sense. I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in his neck and breathe it in but I was quickly reminded of my more pressing desires the moment his lips brushed my neck.

“I need to know where you’d like me to come first, darling. Wherever you want,” he moaned, voice catching near the end.

The rumble of his voice sent my thoughts scattering once more with another wave of pleasure washing through my body, but I managed to focus enough to stammer out, “I-In me. I’m on the sh-sh- fuck!”

My words were cut off by blinding pain. It almost felt as if his teeth broke the skin, a throbbing burn emanating from the bite, but it was quickly encompassed by bliss. I felt my eyes rolling back as his husky moan reverberated against my throat and he buried his cock deep in my core with a final thrust. The aftershocks of his cock throbbing had me quivering weakly but I fought through the mind-numbing bliss and fulfilled the last of my thirst, brushing my nose against his cheek and soaking in the scent of his woodsy cologne and natural musk.

Laying under him, though uncomfortably hot, was the best feeling; The sensation of his strong body mimicking the comfort of a weighted blanket.

“That was… Dark, I don’t even have words,” I whispered finally.

With careful movements, he slowly pulled back until our eyes could comfortably meet and I realized belatedly that I still had a steely grip on his hair, releasing it with a nervous giggle.

“No regrets, then?” he asked, obviously amused.

I shook my head as I bit my lower lip before offering him a little smile.

“The only regret would be if it was a one-time thing,” I admitted softly.

His eyebrow twitched up and said, “Not at all, darling. I’ve been patient for so long, waiting for the right moment to claim you. The only thing that could keep me from you is you yourself.”

#Patience is key #darkiplier/reader #chapter two #smut #biting #dom/sub #kind of tentacles but not really #demon dark

119 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #428

“there’s more money in tragedy, more net worth in self-pity / so you’re doubling down inside of your screen, hiding behind attention you seek”

Have you ever told someone, besides family, that you love them and meant it? Yeah. I've told friends that platonically, and I've said it to two people and romantically meant it. Are the blankets that are on your bed now made by someone you know in life? No. Have you seen all The Lord of the Rings movies? I haven't even seen one. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had in 2014? I had one. Can you walk in heels? I mean I can, but I don't like to. What does your mom say about the pictures on your Myspace? First the '14 question, now this... I don't think Mom ever had a Myspace, but I can answer for Facebook. She's always the person to "heart" react them and say something about how "beautiful" I am or something. ;x; What was the last thing you and your parents argued about? Idr. Do you feel your life is at its best? Fuck no. There better be better times than this. What do you worry about the most? The most? That's hard to say... but probably my career future. Or really just the future in general. Have you ever let someone be your everything? "Everything" still feels like an understatement. He was my source of happiness, a massive part of my own identity, and my promise for a better future. It was so, so unhealthy. Think back to the last person you kissed, how many times have you cried in their arms? Two times, I wanna say? What are some things you do when you’re mad? I get snappy and try to isolate myself to cry it out. How do you feel about your hair right now? I hate itttt. It's getting too long and just boring. I'm hoping I can get up with my hairdresser soon for a trim. What’s an interesting fact about you that not many people know? Uhhhh... I guess that I was a dancer for many years. I feel like I don't really fit the general "aesthetic" of dancers, so people have definitely been surprised to find out I was one. Do you do anything embarrassing when no one is home? No. Just because no one ELSE is there, I'd embarrass my damn self lol. If you had the chance to move to a completely different state/county, would you? Fuck yes I would. Could you ever be friends with someone that broke your heart? It's funny, because that's what the traumatized, overly-attached part of me wants (at the bare minimum), but my common sense knows that's dumb as fuck. I could never healthily be friends with him. Are you scared of fireworks? No, but others are terrified by them, so keep that in mind. Does anyone know every little detail about you? No. You woke up one day and discovered that you were only able to see in black and white… as well as one other colour. What colour would that be and why? I guess red? It sounds morbid for it to be the first thing my mind goes to, but that way, I'd be able to see blood and therefore be able to detect a symptom of danger. What is your favourite soundtrack for a film/video game/television show? (Though feel free to name as many!) Silent Hill 2 and Shadow of the Colossus have fucking LEGENDARY soundtracks. What is your favourite Pokémon? Ninetales! I also really love Espeon and Umbreon, too. And Charmander. And Pikachu. And Skitty. And... well, too many, ha ha. What is something your best friend of the opposite sex does that you can’t stand? He calls me "kid" a lot. Is the last book you read a really well-known book? It's not world-famous or anything, but it seems relatively known by teens/young adults. At least, I follow a lot of artists who make fanart for it. Do you have anything besides just songs downloaded on your iPod? No. When at the beach, do you spend more time on the beach or in the ocean? In the water. I hate the beach itself. Do you have any siblings you absolutely despise? Why do you despise them? No. Have you ever babysat before? Did you enjoy this job? Yes, and no, not at all. Have you ever busted a window before? Why did you bust it? No. Do you still get scared watching old horror movies? You watch them alone? Horror movies pretty much never scare me, never mind old cheesy ones. I don't mind watching them alone. Do knives scare you? Is it from watching scary movies? I'm terrified of big knives, and it has nothing to do with movies. It's a fear that started after Mom stopped me from a suicide attempt where I was going to slit my throat with one. They just radiate danger for me. Have you ever tried to sing opera? Did it work out for you or no? No. What was the last piece of furniture you purchased? I've never bought any furniture, and I don't recall the last thing Mom bought. Have you ever broken up with someone for a reason other than lack of feelings (ex. moving away, etc.)? Yeah; we split because we were essentially two shaky towers leaning against one another. We have to learn to straighten ourselves up independently before that relationship even becomes a "maybe" again. Has anyone ever told you that you are too picky when it comes to the people you date? What about not picky enough? Neither. Was there anything unusual or unique about your birth? Nothing really, besides being born in an icestorm. My birth itself was totally normal, as far as I know. Mom considers it pretty extraordinary though because according to her, I took one look at her and smiled so big. Says a lot about our relationship now. What was the best conversation you’ve had recently? *shrug* What is the next book you are going to read? The book that comes next in the series I'm reading. Who was the last person to do something nice for you? My mom does nice things for me every day, like making dinner, letting me live under her roof... a lot of stuff. Is there any artwork in the room you’re in? Yeah, some of my stuff. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah. Someone asks you what you want; what do you say? Happiness. Direction. What was the last thing you complained about? Just being incredibly sore. The gym's kicking my ass, but it needs to, so I'm fine with it. How do you feel when you hear other people complaining? It depends on how frequently and about what. It can become overwhelming sometimes, especially if it's over something truly trivial. Has your name been in someone’s Facebook status lately? No. Do you own any Sims games? Which ones? I have the original animals one, as well as the African animals one (which I surprisingly like less). What was your first job? I was a sales associate at GameStop. Do people praise you for your looks? Yeah, definitely not. Do you like your eyes? No. I wish they were bluer and wider. Tell me what your back pack looks like: My last one was a galaxy texture. What celebrity do you think is hot? HMMMMMMMMMMMM I DON'T KNOW????????????? NEVER SEEN ONE IN MY LIFE O: O: O: Last movie you saw in theatre: The The Lion King remake. Has someone you were dating ever cheated on you? No. What’s the cutest thing someone’s ever done for you? I'd rather not dig through the memories to find what I'd consider the "cutest." What was the last thing you heated up in your microwave? A chicken pesto bowl for lunch. Did you ever watch Phil of the Future? Occasionally, but I was never big on it. Do you have an online game that you play often? I play World of Warcraft pretty much daily. Do you prefer regular or electric toothbrushes? Electric. What was the last thing to piss you off? Truly piss me off, I'm not sure. When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? Months ago in my room. I want to take a new one to update my Facebook profile pic, because I think I'm ready to return there. Who was the last person to pay you a compliment or praise? The first day at the gym, Mom told me she was extremely proud of me, and it meant a lot. I truly think I can stick to this, and it's a fucking phenomenal feeling. What’s one thought you have regarding the subject of love? It can be the most beautiful thing in the world, yet simultaneously has the capability to be one of the most painful. Do you think that it’s possible to fall in love at a young age like eleven or twelve? Who am I to say, honestly. I lean towards no because at the age of puberty, you're really all over the place with your hormones and emotions, and I just don't know if it's possible for two pre-teens to have the maturity level to grasp what it truly means to be in love with someone. But again, what do I really know? Everyone is different. Are sex and sexual activities something you enjoy? Yeah sure, if it's something I'm in the mood to engage in and I'm in love with the person. What’s an interesting fact about the state in which you were born? We're the home of Pepsi products. I know, of course I would share a fact about soda, ha ha. What’s one aspect of your life that did not turn out as you expected? Where I am now as far as "adult development" goes. I don't drive. I don't have a job. I still live with my mother. I could go on and on... By this point, I definitely expected something much, much different when I was younger. What was the last event to cause you any sort of heartache? Hm. I don't know. What was the worst phase you’ve ever gone through? *shrug* What excuse did you use most often to skip school? There were times I'd pretend to have a really bad cough. I could fake a nasty cough, man. Are you shy about singing in front of people? Very. Honestly, do you put your elbows on the dinner table? Yes, because why the fuck would that matter. I don't get how something so simple and harmless is "bad manners." Have you ever taken a picture in a public bathroom? No. Yes or no: corsets? I. FUCKING. LOVE. CORSETS. UGH I wish I could pull one off, omfg. In your opinion, is money the root of all evil? All evil? No. There are some horrible crimes people can commit that have nothing to do with money. Do you own a pair of overalls? Ew, no. I hate overalls. What is the best game to play while in the car? Uh, idk. Has a movie ever made you jump in fear? I'm sure at some point. Jumpscares are hard to be unfazed by; it's just a natural reaction to something sudden. Yes or no: pickles? Bro I LOVE pickles. Yes or no: strawberry ice cream? Ugh, no. Do you know what your mom’s favorite movie is? No, actually. Are you a role model to anybody? No fucking way I am. Do you know how much you weighed at birth? Somewhere around six or seven pounds. Look outside the nearest window. What can you see? From where I'm at, I can just see the shed. What are you interested in that most people would be surprised to know? Cutesy, pastel stuff, probably. How many bathrooms are in your house? Two. Do you prefer stripes or polka dots? Polka dots. Are you considered a very sensitive person? Very. Have you ever told someone you never wanted to speak to them again? Yes. What’s the weather like today? Is it nice enough to go outside? It's hot as fuck outside. You will NOT see me outside today. What does your last text message say and who is it from? It's just a thumbs up emoji from the woman who works at my psychiatrist's office. She schedules my phone appointments with him. Do you listen to any podcasts? How do you listen to them? No. Why did you leave your last job? It was WAY too fast-paced with lots of responsibilities that I just couldn't handle. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying? No, that's awful. What’s your favorite scent of air freshener? Probably something floral and subtle. Are your hands and feet in good condition or could you do with a mani-pedi? Ugh. I pick my fingernails off badly, so they're a mess rn. I also DISDAIN my feet because they are horribly callused from when I used to walk like crazy. It's so weird how I can exfoliate the area and scrub (... and sometimes tear) them off, but they're pretty much immediately back. When was the last time you played a board game? What did you play? A couple years ago with Girt and Sara, I think. We played Scrabble. How old were you when you first became sexually active? Do you mean like, doing anything sexual? In which case that would be 16. I woulda been 16 or 17 when I actually lost my virginity, though. Do you know anyone who has been through a divorce? A load of people. Does anyone not know somebody? Have you ever done a juice cleanse? No. Do you have to pay for parking in most places in the town/city you live in? No. That's a foreign concept here. It's one of the very alien things I experienced in Chicago; I don't really think I knew it was a thing (save for massive attractions, like Disney Word and stuff) before then. Can you hear lots of traffic from your house? Does it bother you? No. We live in a cul-de-sac, and our road is further into it, away from the main road.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''thoughts & prayers" by motionless in white

3 notes · View notes

ravenbrenna09 · 4 years

Text

Jij Verliest - Chapter One: Clip #5

Note: sorry for the late post. I had to finish editing.

master list previous (Maandag 15:11)

...

Dinsdag 19:47

Being in the middle of a stream meant Robbe was simply talking to himself.

It wasn’t like he was talking to himself. He was always responding to someone in the chat, to viewers who donated, or to direct messages on Discord from his moderators. Whenever he spoke aloud, he would get a response in the chat and it would start an appearingly one-sided conversation. Whenever he was streaming, he tried to talk to everyone in his chat. To the best of his ability, he even tried to respond to the trolls in the chat with a minimum amount of sass.

Whenever he streamed with other people, Robbe always felt like he wasn’t paying attention to the chat enough because he was simply conversing with another streamer, the Broerrrs or Lucas, who would sometimes sit next to him. Streaming solo allowed Robbe to focus on the chat and it allowed him to answer questions and talk to them. Of the two, he generally preferred the latter option. He enjoyed the solitude of being alone with his computer, his game, and three hundred viewers (or closer to five hundred on a good day).

But tonight? He welcomed the distraction his friends provided.

Even if Robbe felt like he was on the edge of sensory overload.

His computer screen was a little too bright. Even with one ear covered by his headphones (so he could still hear Lucas, who sat on his left) and the volume turned down lower, he still felt like Jens and Aaron were shouting in his ear. Each time something new happened—each movement of the chat, each donation, each subscriber and follower—it drew his eye, giving him a moment to focus on it before he moved on to the next item, the next text, the next thing that distracted him from looking at the clock.

As Jens was shouting at Aaron to cover him and Robbe was concentrating on taking down as many people as he could, someone knocked on the bedroom door. Lucas got up to open it and Milan stepped inside the bedroom. The solemn look on his face prompted Robbe to mute the microphone, his character dying in the process, and Jens let out a shout through the speakers that caused all of them to flinch. It was only when Robbe looked up that Milan said, dropping the news like he had scratched his nails across a chalkboard, “He’s here.”

Thomas.

Right.

Robbe swallowed, his shoulders heavy as he tried to keep his mind steady. Suddenly, his fingers felt too big on the controller and he shifted in his seat, saying, “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

Milan nodded.

Lucas sat back down, disbelief in his tone. “Really? He actually showed up?” The sarcasm dripped from his words even as he comically ate a handful of popcorn. He pivoted to Milan. “Are you sure it’s him and not some look-alike imposter? Doesn’t seem like his style.” Before leaving the room, his cousin attempted to send a disapproving look to Lucas but his face betrayed him, twisting into a grin.

“Behave,” Robbe said, sending Lucas a quick look. His friend shrugged before Robbe unmuted the microphone. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little tense, and announced, “Sorry about that, guys. Something came up and I have to take a break.” Jens groaned loudly, and Robbe muted him. “But no need to fear, Lucas is going to take over and provide you with some quality commentary for a few minutes.”

“I am?” Lucas asked.

“Yes, you are,” Robbe said, grinning. He unmuted Jens and pulled the bag of popcorn from his roommate’s hands. “But, fair warning, Jens and Lucas have a tendency of making people feel overbearingly single. I have a feeling it’ll only get amplified.”

“Hey!” Jens protested.

“It’s true and you know it.” Robbe placed the bag of popcorn against one of his photos before he shoved the controller into Lucas’s hands. Despite not playing much of Fortnite, Lucas immediately started playing. As Lucas leaned to the camera, trying to get a better look at the screen, Robbe moved to give him more space. Before he got up, he glanced one more time at the chat, which was filling up with fast-moving questions.

Unable to answer them, or admit that he was giving clothes to his ex, he simply repeated, “I’ve got to do something real quick and I’ll be back in a few minutes. Be on your best behavior for Lucas. He’s not as good at multitasking as I am.”

Lucas rolled his eyes and scoffed. Once Robbe scooted his chair back, completely out of the path of the desk, Lucas took over the space that he left. Jens said something witty (and vaguely flirtatious) that caused a faint blush to ghost over Lucas’s cheeks.

As he stepped away from his computer, Robbe steeled his nerves and tried his best to cement the tornado of emotions in his chest. His brain ticked down to its eventual explosion, overrun with emotions and thoughts. Letting out a breath, Robbe grabbed hold of Thomas’s things and pulled the box to his chest. Then, he opened up the door and stepped out. As he shut the door, Lucas let out a string of curses and Robbe chuckled at his friend.

At the end of the hallway, he saw Thomas talking with Zoë at the front door and the mere sight of him brought back the tornado.

It had been over two months since Robbe had last seen Thomas.

One day, Robbe had been racing to school because he slept through his alarms. He had spent the previous night working on an assignment, so he was late in meeting with Yasmina. On his way, he stopped at his normal coffee shop to get a coffee for forgiveness. But, in his haste, Robbe had forgotten that it was their normal coffee shop, right down the street from Thomas’s law firm. As he waited for his order, he was surprised to find Thomas sitting at a table with a handful of coworkers. Once Thomas had seen him, there was no escaping the awkward small talk; about Robbe’s mom, Thomas’s mom, and their work. Once his order was ready, Robbe sprinted out of there faster than he had arrived.

This time, it felt different.

Thomas was dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a crisp button-up shirt. His tie was undone, loose and hanging across his neck, and his hair, normally styled to perfection, was disheveled—like he had run his hands through it several times. It was one of his tells. Thomas was nervous and stressed about work and Robbe hated the fact he still noticed. He had let his stubble grow out a little more and he was smiling kindly at Zoë, who was absent-mindedly listening to him chatter. His presence in the flatshare, right in front of him, caused Robbe’s heart to thump nervously in his ribcage.

Thomas’s eyes, bright and hazel, flickered over to Robbe standing outside his bedroom door with the box in hand, and Robbe couldn’t help feeling his initial instinct to run and hide.

“Hey, Robbe,” he greeted. Robbe swallowed the knot in his throat, barely managing a half-smile as he moved toward them. Zoë sent Robbe a wary look as she moved into the living room, where a theme song was playing. As she passed him, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Robbe extended the box to Thomas. “Here’s everything that I found that belonged to you.” Thomas nodded, taking it from his hands. As he did, his fingers brushed over Robbe’s and the latter flinched, trying not to seem stiff. He took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets. Robbe couldn’t tell if the motion had been accidental or on purpose, but it sent an uncomfortable shock through him. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he asked, “Did you happen to find any more of my things in your room?”

Thomas shook his head. “No, I think you managed to get everything.”

“Okay.”

There was a long, drawn-out silence between them. Robbe continued shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wondering how long he would have to stay here before he would be legally able to go back to his bedroom. At least in his stream, his stomach wouldn’t be twisting as his ex stood in front of him, acting like it wasn’t awkward. Once enough time had passed in silence, Robbe opened his mouth to say something about the stream, but Thomas suddenly spoke up. “How are you doing?”

Robbe blinked. “Huh?”

“With school and everything?” Thomas elaborated. When Robbe didn’t answer, he continued, “And your mama? How’s she doing?”

“I’m fine,” Robbe answered, too loudly and too quickly. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “And Mama’s fine. Just some ups and downs, but she’s still on her medications and her job is going well and she’s still seeing her therapist once a week so…” He trailed off. The silence returned between them, as uncomfortable as it was before. For the briefest of moments, Thomas looked like he was about to say something, but Robbe needed to get back to his stream, away from small talk with the man who broke his heart. Before Thomas could speak, Robbe said, “I’ve got to get back to the stream. Lucas is keeping it going right now.”

Thomas’s face twisted in annoyance, his eyebrows furrowed. “Really? Now?”

Robbe’s stomach twisted—but this time, it was anger. He crossed his arms, trying to keep his anger contained in his chest. “Yes, really,” he replied. Robbe hated when Thomas acted like this, like Robbe had done something for the sole purpose of aggravating him. “I’ve been streaming from 18:00 to 21:00 every Tuesday for the past three months. My day off was on Sunday,” he said. “But you were the one that canceled on me, remember?”

Thomas stayed quiet and still, his arms stiff as he clutched at the handles of the box. But Robbe didn’t need to be a genius to know that Thomas was trying not to roll his eyes. That was another tell—one Robbe hated that he could still identify after three months.

“Do I need to show you out?”

Thomas shook his head, moving toward the still-open front door with the box in his hands. “No, I’ll see you later, Robbe.”

“Bye.”

Once Thomas had stepped through the door, Robbe pushed it close and leaned against the wooden frame. As he stood there, his eyes fluttered closed and he stayed there for several moments. Even with the heavy door between them, he could hear the sounds of Thomas’s heavy footsteps, heading in the direction of the elevator.

He was angry.

He had no right to be angry.

Robbe listened to the beep of the elevator, signaling that it had arrived, and the following beep before it descended back down to the lobby, adding more distance between Robbe and Thomas’s silent, barely-contained anger. Robbe let out a breath of relief and sadness, shaky and uncertain as he stood there. He stayed against it for a few more heartbeats, shoving the sadness into the bottle in his chest, struggling to maintain his breath.

Once his breath evened out, Robbe pushed himself off the front door and headed to his bedroom.

As Robbe sat back down in his comfortable desk chair, Lucas willingly relinquished the controller at the end of that match. He ran a hand over Robbe’s shoulder in comfort, seemingly aware of the tension of the silent confrontation. As soon as the next match started back up, Robbe threw himself back into it and back into the stream, keeping an eye on the chat and donations. If his viewers realized he was down, they didn’t make a big deal out of it—and Robbe didn’t feel like calling himself out if no one really noticed.

Lucas rested his head against Robbe’s shoulder and patted his arm. Jens drew him back into making fun of Aaron’s poor Fortnite skills. None of his friends brought up Thomas, the meeting, or asked him to talk about it. And, for that, Robbe was thankful.

next (woensdag)

84 notes · View notes

blooming-anna-rose · 4 years

Text

Year 17

Today is my last day of waking up as a child, of breathing air into my lungs as kid, of existing as an adolescent .

In the eyes of the law, I will wake up tomorrow and be an adult. But I think, in someways, I haven’t been a kid in a long time. I think I will wake up tomorrow, and I will feel the same responsibility I’ve carried for years.

But tomorrow, I will wake up and no longer be in this stage of my life. Tomorrow marks a milestone. I will be 18.

It will be a new chapter in my story.

I am turning the page, and I am excited. But before I turn the page, I have to look back. I have to look back at the year I was 17.

My hardest year yet.

And I’ve had hard years, don’t get me wrong.

But 17 truly tops the cake.

I had no clue when I began this year, about the path I would go down. I mean, I cried. I cry every year on my birthday. Someone once asked why, and I jokingly replied that I was just sad about my existence. She laughed, but it was the truth. I’ve never really thought of a reason to celebrate my life. I’ve never been proud of getting through another year of living. Because it never really felt like living, it felt like surviving. The bare minimum of what it meant to be alive. And every year, every number tacked onto my age, felt like another stark reminder that life would go on, but it didn’t always get better.

And this year wasn’t any different.

It’s funny looking back, I didn’t know how much worse life could get. I wish I could go back and tell myself to prepare. To put her war paint on. To be ready.

Because this year, the year of being 17, was unlike any other year in the level of loneliness I would feel. It was unlike any other year in almost every way.

I began the year, and looking back, I can see that I was so foolish. Rather than continue to search for ways to get better, I finally began to settle. I searched for distractions, anything to keep me from focusing on the wounds I needed to heal from. Those distractions became my demise, I strolled far from the path that kept me safe. I was so far gone from myself that by the time I even realized, there was no way back.

I desperately clawed onto anything I thought could help me, save me. I was grasping in the dark for something to return me to myself. I was fighting, but I was fighting all the wrong things. I wasn’t fighting the right fight.

I found myself alone, the person I counted on, left. It was one of the last straws, but the final straw was when the hope I had set for my future, was ripped away. I remember the moment it happened, I was in shock. Then came the sadness, the darkness.

I retreated to my room, closed the blinds, and covered myself in the darkness.

I stayed in bed for a month.

But I lived in darkness for longer than that. I want to say that I have never been one prone to depression. I am a happy person by nature, I am a hopeful person. But you know it’s bad when that just isn’t enough to get you out of bed.

I lost myself completely.

I looked in the mirror, and I hated what I saw. I hated myself so deeply. I found out how much pain my own thoughts could inflict. I never knew I could hurt myself that badly. I felt worthless and ashamed of who I became. Every moment, everyday I felt like an open wound. Like I was bleeding out, and no one noticed. I was so empty, but my heart felt too heavy to carry. It felt like my heart died, and I was just a corpse carrying it. Dramatic, I know, but no other words manage to fit what I felt. I lost my own light, I was in a tunnel and it was so dark I didn’t think I would find my way out.

I don’t even know when it got better.

I remember crying for so long.

I remember grieving.

I remember the way I hurt, but I don’t know when my pain shifted from something that held me down, and when it became something that meant I was healing. I think it was somewhere after the time I took the hand someone offered, when I accepted I couldn't get better by myself. I let someone else offer me hope I couldn’t offer myself.

I think the first sign I was getting better was when my bad days eventually became less frequent, and when they did came around, they were less forceful. They didn’t completely drag me down anymore, they didn’t cover me in darkness. Eventually I didn’t have to hide in my room. I ventured outside, and felt sunlight on my skin. I breathed in fresh air.

I slowly began to smile again,

and my smiles slowly turned into laughter.

Suddenly my journey didn’t seem so bleak, I let go of some of my hurt, and then I had room to forgive and love. Enough for forgiveness and love for myself too. Don’t get me wrong, it still felt like walking on broken glass, but I eventually found myself. But it wasn’t the same person I was last year.

I started 17 stuck in my own trauma, blind to anything else.

And I’m finishing it, and I’ve changed. My eyes are open to more than my own suffering. I can see I’m stronger than the trauma I went though, I am stronger for going though it. I can see my worth beyond just my circumstances. I can see the people who care and love me. I can see my wounds slowly being stitched up. I can see a light at the end of this tunnel.

I lost myself this year. That is why this year is different than any other year. I lost my identity, my hope, my worth, my light.

But I found it all again.

And after going though what I did, it is stronger than ever. I am stronger and kinder and softer.

And this next year, being 18, I know I will keep moving forward. I will keep healing. It is a promise to myself, to never give myself up so easily again. To continue fighting for a better future, to continue facing my fears.

So tomorrow, I can cry. But I doubt I will.

See, now I have a reason to celebrate.

17 notes · View notes

bangtan-gal · 5 years

Text

Cupid’s Game

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader, Han Jisung x Fem!Reader Part 1 | Part 2 Word Count: 4.9k Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, a pretty soft chapter overall. The fun stuff comes next chapter Soulmate!AU Fantasy!AU Cupid!Hyunjin A/N: I apologize if the explanation is confusing, I clear it up better next chapter

“Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it!”

Your smile wasn’t nearly as wide as your counselor’s as she lead you into her office. For the past seventeen years of your life, you had to deal with these stupid yearly counseling sessions. She acted as your therapist and advisor, trying to help you understand the world you had been born into. But once you turned eighteen, everything changed. Now, your main goal was supposed to be finding your soulmate and living life happily.

Unfortunately for your advisor, you weren’t actually trying.

The logs you’d given her for every monthly evaluation had been faked. You hadn’t traveled around, paid extra attention to especially cute people, and you had completely ignored any “tugging from the depths of your soul.” Sure, there had been times where it felt like your heart literally jumped, but you never felt this unpreventable need to find the apparent love of your life.

You handed her the folder once again and then followed your same old routine of collapsing into the recliner chair and checking your nails as you waited for her to confirm your adventures. While your log suggested an exciting life, your life was really anything but. You were focusing solely on your classes, using your status to move ahead with ease. Most people like you—stupidly called doxies—were well-known celebrities and were doted on by everyone. They had no talent, no job, no degree, absolutely nothing with merit, but yet they still had more recognition and money that everybody else.

The reason your “kind” even existed was because of the close destruction to humankind hundreds of years ago. After chemical warfare that took over the whole planet, the human race was almost completely wiped out. And when extinction was right around the corner, someone or… something proposed the idea of perfect couples. The first doxies were created, quickly fell in love, and had children that were stronger. The being who created these people was called a ‘Cupid’ and from there, the society you lived in today was created.

Every time you thought of it, the more insane the idea became. It didn’t matter how many times it was explained to you. Doxies were born with perfect genes, along with the mutation factor that caused them to feel extremely connected to another one of their kind. Because of the perfect genes, their children became better with each new generation and somehow, it created a world that was mostly peaceful and united.

There were many theories as to why the creation of doxies kept wars to a minimum. Some believed that the children they had were born with lower violence tendencies. Others thought that it was more of a psychological game: everyone had to believe in the Cupid, so the main cause of war disappeared. Or that since doxies were so worshipped, it gave humans a better thing to do than to brutally murder one another.

Simply put, you were born to be an incubator to perfect little babies and it was the last thing you wanted to be.

You looked up from your nails, watching as Leila turned through the last few pages of your log. Normally, she would be smiling as she read over your pages, but there was an unimpressed frown on her face. You bit your lip, hoping that she wasn’t expecting you to “do more.”

“You know,” she hummed, letting the folder flutter closed, “I’m not an idiot.”

You opened your mouth, but she talked over you.

“Y/N, I can tell you haven’t done anything. I know you haven’t done anything for the past seven months. You’re not my first client, my dear. I can tell when someone is faking,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was silent for a few seconds, brushing her hair from her face before she looked at you. “Although I am not a doxy, I can understand your disposition against this whole ordeal. But, you have to understand something.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, indignation starting to flare up. Leila leaned over her desk, her blonde hair falling across her face as she did. She didn’t flinch at your narrowed gaze, just met it with a calm one of her own.

“You are playing with higher power my dear,” she whispered. There was evident fear in her voice and it started to unnerve you. “I know you don’t want to be forced to love someone, but the problem is that not only is the government strict on this whole ordeal, you also have the Cupid to deal with. Yes, doxies are given wealth and fame beyond imagination, but they are more strict with you than anyone else.

“You haven’t experienced it yet because you are so young, but Y/N, if you haven’t found your soulmate by the time you’re 21 and announced your marriage, the government will come after you. I think it’s stupid too, but as stupid as the whole idea is, the human race does rely on the mixed genes of two doxies—”

“But, we’re no longer worrying about extinction!” You argued.

“There are things you don’t understand!” She shouted, standing up. Her hands slammed on the table. “You think I got this job because I got some psychology degree and minored in Cupid studies? I got this job because the government decided I was trustworthy enough to know what’s really going on with this whole soulmate getup!” She sat down, burying her face in her hands. You sat there, stunned. It was hard to say what shocked you more: her shouting at you or whatever she had just revealed. What was it that you didn’t understand? Was the human race still fighting extinction? Chemical destruction? Leila cleared her throat, adjusting her shirt and patting her cheeks. Her face was bright red.

“Y/N, unfortunately, I am in no place to tell you of what is going on, but I suggest you actually start looking for your soulmate. Because if you don’t: everything your family has gained because of your genes will disappear. They will disappear. You will be taken into custody, the government will find your soulmate for you, and you will lose any chance at the freedom you had before.”

She handed you back your faked log, blue eyes sad. Once you took the folder, she motioned you to leave, and you wearily did. Your stomach was rolling. Your family had been in poverty before you’d been born. It was your existence that put dinner on the table and a roof over your head—but now it was more than just your existence—it was your cooperation. You didn’t need Leila to elaborate on what exactly freedom meant; you had a sickening idea of what losing it meant.

You sat in your car, watching as people passed by. Your fingers traced the tattoo on your wrist: a branding you had been given at birth. A branding that defined your whole life. The branding that took away your chance to truly live: find love on your own, make friends, fight your own struggles, and not live your life with someone always watching you. People always recognized that mark: smiling at you, congratulating you, sometimes even going as far as to bow. You thought of the mandatory checks you had at the police station when you were ten and fifteen.

With a huff, you started your car and drove away. Part of you just wanted to keep driving to see how far you could go and where you could get lost, but you knew better than that. The first thing you’d been warned of when you turned fifteen was that you would always be watched. You learned that quickly, because any little thing you did to act out, you had to have a serious talk with some man in your house. He never told you of any future consequences, he would just always say that you were a vital part of society. You always figured that it meant you were a role model to regular humans, but now you started to question that. Was humanity still fighting extinction? Or is there a bigger role that doxies play?

You pulled into the driveway and climbed out of your car. The home you lived in was big enough to house seven families, but only four of you lived there. Five if you count your dog. You stepped inside and didn’t bother to say hello as you walked to your room.

You wanted to be alone, but that plan was changed when you noticed your younger sister sitting on your bed. She was flipping through a magazine and glanced up as you sadly slumped onto your bed. A huff escaped her and she closed the magazine.

“What are you pouting about now?” She asked, tapping your head. You rolled onto your back, crossed your arms over your stomach, and stared at the ceiling.

“I absolutely have to find my soulmate,” you muttered, “they’re forcing me to.”

She tilted her head at you. “You act as if it’s a bad thing that you for sure have love out there.”

You frowned.

“I don’t think you understand how much it sucks to have your free will taken away from you,” you grumbled. She rolled her eyes, laying down beside you. The two of you were silent for a few more minutes, both of you just staring at the old glow in the dark stars on your ceiling. They glowed faintly in the dusk light.

“You didn’t lose your free will, Y/N,” she said, “think of it as if it’s a fairy tale. You have true love out there, but every decision you make up to that point and afterward is your own. Plus, your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect match. That’s how the Cupid pairing works—it’s not like you’ll be miserable.”

“Maybe the Cupid messed up, I’m a complicated person.”

“Everybody’s a complicated person,” she snapped and then rolled onto her side to stare at you. “What about your soulmate? What if they want to meet you? What if love is the one thing they need in their life, what are they going to do if you refuse to be found?”

You smiled bitterly at her.

“Why do you have to sound so smart?”

She smiled back at you. Her hand found yours and she squeezed gently. She tucked her head against your shoulder.

“And if it doesn’t work out perfectly, all that matters is that the cameras show a happy couple right?”

That’s what you used to think—that your life would become a reality show. But there was more to it than that. You had to have kids and raise them right. You had to contribute to society. You had to be happy with your life and play by the Cupid’s rules.

But laying there, letting your mind run, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept that. No one had seen the Cupid in hundreds of years. Who was to say that it was still alive? Why should you live your life like a game that was created by some dusty creature that hadn’t been seen in centuries?

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

A year passed slowly.

Nothing exciting happened in the year. You turned nineteen, got a job, and continued to work towards you goal of becoming a lawyer. Leila still saw you once a month, looking thoroughly unimpressed by every fake log you handed her. But she no longer fought with you and it seemed that she’d also accepted whatever fate was to be bestowed upon you. She would mutter about the government and the Cupid and how things are looking down for you.

But for all her worrying and muttering, you didn’t see any problems. You weren’t given any warnings or had any talks with some official in your house.They didn’t seem to be paying attention to you and it felt like you were free to live your life.

The only thing you forgot was that your soulmate could find you.

Fall was nearing and the days were growing slower. The air was crisp and cold. You were walking your dog through the park, lost in your own world. School wasn’t going as well as you had hoped—your grades were falling and quickly.

You weren’t given much time to worry about your grades though. A finger tapped your shoulder and you came face to face with a boy. He was near your height, his hair a dark, messy mop, and his eyes were deep brown. You froze when his hand dropped from your shoulder and skimmed over your fingers.

“You-you’re—”

“Do you mind?” You shrieked, forcing yourself out of the stupor. You moved away from him, keeping your hand pressed to your chest. Your dog stirred nervously at your feet, uncertain of what to think of the stranger.

He blinked.

“You’re my soulmate,” he breathed. You pursed your lips. Fear started to creep over his features at your silence. His hands started to fidget at his sides and his teeth dug into his lip. Doubt started to cloud his eyes. “I-I mean, it feels like you are.”

His hand pressed over his heart.

You held your breath for a few seconds and closed your eyes. This was it; this was your chance. Your chance to prove that your life is your own and you didn’t owe it to anybody to fall in love with this boy. You let your breath out.

“I’m just going to get this over with: I am, but I don’t want to be. Love is a choice, a feeling that’s not forced upon someone. It might feel like we love one another, but we don’t,” you paused, your eyes finally opening to meet his, “and I’m not going to try and pretend. The government can screw their… what stupid game this is.”

He was silent, his eyes searching yours. Whatever strength that had been in you started to wane. The hurt, the fear, and the confusion in his eyes was enough to make you wonder if what you were doing was really right. If the government was watching: you weren’t only getting yourself hurt. He was going to get hurt because of you too.

You didn’t even know his name.

“Look, I’m so—”

“Well this doesn’t seem right.”

You blinked, trying to find the body of the voice. But as you continued to, your vision started to swim. The world spun around you and your whole body started to give out beneath you. You stumbled, reaching out your hands blindly to catch your fall.

You managed to catch yourself, but everything around you was quickly changing. There was a distant sound of your dog barking and the feeling of a light breeze, but it swiftly faded. The cement turned to marble, the cold turned to a perfect temperature, and the smell of hay and dead leaves was replaced by an indescribable scent. Like your mother’s cooking or the smell of Christmas. You glanced up, staring at the place you were in. Pristine quartz walls rose up high to a completely glass ceiling. Not far in front of you, two large, dark double doors were shut. There was a strong urge pulsing from deep inside to open those doors, but you were unable to move, scared of whatever would happen.

“What the hell?”

You jumped, glancing over your shoulder. Your soulmate sat on the floor behind, his expression similar to yours as he took in your surroundings. Your heart dropped as the two of you made eye contact and the worry in your stomach grew. ‘You don’t even know what you’re dealing with Y/N.’ Not only had you gotten yourself in trouble, but your stubbornness dragged an innocent boy into the mix.

Several minutes passed with the two of you just staring at one another. You were fighting the urge to cry, realizing that whatever was happening, what was about to happen, was entirely your fault. Your chin pressed against your chest and you covered your mouth, eyes pinching shut. Maybe you should’ve listened to Leila and your sister. You could’ve just accepted the truth: that your life was laid out for you the second you were born.

“Hey”—an arm was slung over your shoulders—“don’t cry. It’s going to be fine; we’ll be fine.”

You shook your head.

“You don’t understand,” you gasped, “I’ve known the consequences of what would happen if I continued to fight my life. I got you dragged into this because I couldn’t just accept it.”

You looked at him, eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re not in for anything good.”

Just then, the doors swung open. Loud footsteps echoed throughout the building. Your gaze moved up, watching as a boy—seemingly close in age to both of you—strut towards you. He wore a completely white silk jumper, with a light brown belt, and a dusty pink cape fluttering from his shoulders. His black hair was parted very far to the left, his eyes were just as dark as his hair. His skin was fair, such a contrast to his dark hair, that it looked close to white. His cheekbones were high, his jaw was sharp, and his body was lean.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Han Jisung,” he hummed. His eyes ran over the two of you with something close to disdain. You watched him warily as he moved towards you. He stopped once he was directly in front of you, slowly crouching down. His fingers delicately grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Shivers ran down your spine as his gaze carefully traced your face before he moved on to stare at Jisung.

Then, as if he had been shocked, he pulled back from you. The boy stood up and backed away. Your body was shaking wildly, completely out of your control. It had felt like a thousand tiny sparks had erupted when he touched you. It was a feeling of sheer power and you felt powerless next to him.

“Are the two of you going to continue to sit on the floor like peasants? Come on, we have much to talk about,” he commanded, snapping his fingers. Jisung and you exchanged looks before the two of you rose together and hurried after the boy.

The further you walked, the more amazed you became by the place. Your fear started to become replaced by awe as you walked past crystal walls and star-filled ceilings. The marble floor became darker and darker until you were walking on a smooth, black tile. Potted plants lined the walls, all sorts of flowers spilling over the pots and filling the air with a smell that was unlike any floral scent.

Eventually, you stopped walking. The three of you stood in a simple room. A leather couch was pushed against a wall, a coffee table placed a few feet in front of it. None of you sat. Instead, the three of you stood, staring at each other. Finally, the mystery boy spoke.

“I am what you assume me to be,” he murmured, “a Cupid. Although, humans have a very… different ideas of what Cupids really are. Specifically being that there is no one cupid and that we are definitely not immortal.”

“Huh?”

You wished you had something more intelligent to say, but you were wavering between a mixture of fear and awe and it was messing with your mind. This place was amazing, but the way you got here and the boy in front of you were not something to take lightly. Before, the Cupid had just been some invisible thing that only existed in stories whenever people talked about the war.

“This might take a little more than I thought,” he groaned and then snapped his fingers. Your heart leaped and the next thing you knew you were sitting in a black armchair, the room around you dissolving into a more office-like place. The boy sat down across from you. “My name is Hyunjin. I am a Cupid.

“You see here, everything you think about Cupids are very, very wrong. The whole ‘soulmate’ get up has existed since the beginning of time. We’ve been creating perfect pairs for as long as we can remember,” he explained. He paused, watching the two of you carefully. When neither of you spoke, he continued. “Every couple has been put together by us. We work in the way people originally thought Cupids to be: shooting arrows at people when they meet and starting a love between them. Now in the past hundred years, a ‘different kind of human’ has come along. That was not our doing—that was the chemicals released during the war. Believe it or not, most of these perfect humans are not paired with others the same as them. Cupids put people together whenever they feel a spark between two people.”

Your mouth opened and closed, your mind struggling to keep up with what was happening. Because all you were hearing was that everything you told as a child was a lie. Of course, you weren’t sure if you were happy exactly over the idea. Oddly enough, it helped that the reason you were forced to love somebody wasn’t because of some perfect genes you were born with.

“And Y/N,” Hyunjin said, his eyes meeting yours, “you’re not forced to love anybody. Many arrows don’t create a romantic relationship, but a very good friendship. Cupids were created for the sake of creating happy relationships.”

Your eyes narrowed as he continued to explain, but as he slowly finished up, you found your anger starting to dissipate. There were still many questions that were floating in your mind, but there was a small form of clarity blooming in your mind.

“Wait a second,” Jisung spoke up, “why are we here? Why are you explaining this? Like—it’s nice, believe me, but… I’ve never heard of this before.”

Hyunjin leaned back with a sigh. “Yes, that’s probably because we seem to be in a situation we’ve never stumbled upon before.”

His lips quirked up a bit as his eyes moved from Jisung to you.

“The arrow hit Jisung, but for whatever reason, I was unable to get Y/N.” Hyunjin watched you carefully as he started to roll up his sleeve. He showed the two of you his arm and your mouth dropped. While you had a number tattooed into your arm, you had also been born with a very dark, interestingly shaped birthmark on your stomach.

The same exact shape was on Hyunjin’s wrist.

“I believe that Y/N and I have several things to discuss,” he muttered, laughing to himself as he rolled his sleeve back down. “But for now, I think it’s best the two of you get settled. As much as I wish I could just send you back down to Earth, some things need to be figured out before you do.”

Hyunjin then proceeded to lead the pair of you to a room and left you there. It was a large room, but there was only one bed. You found it ironic that he was only just saying a few minutes ago that no was forced to love somebody else, but he was putting the two of you in a room together and claiming he had no others. In a place as big and majestic as this, you could imagine there was a hundred of bedrooms.

But either way, you refused to act childish and give him the satisfaction of watching you squirm. The two of you agreed to share a bed, but you quickly noticed that Jisung seemed more uncomfortable that you did. He was fidgety as the two of you lay in bed, both of you clearly unable to sleep, but neither one saying a thing.

Jisung broke the silence.

“So you’re telling me that when we touched… you didn’t feel anything?” He asked quietly. You shifted, glancing over at him.

“No?” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing. “Was there something?”

His hand slowly reached for yours, his fingers curling over yours. His hand was shaking as he did so and once your skin made contact, he gasped softly. It was hard to see in the dark, but from what you could tell, there was a light dancing in his eyes.

“It feels like there’s sparks going off between us. It-it just fills my body every time and its so hard to ignore. My heart starts racing and butterflies erupt…” he trailed off, a sad tone filling his voice. You felt genuinely bad. There was no way to say that you would never like him back, but at the moment, you felt nothing for this boy while he seemed to feel more than just a vague liking for you.

“Hey,” you whispered, squeezing his hand, “don’t lose hope, okay? Everything is really confusing right now, but once we get out of here and understand exactly what is going on, the two of us can figure it out, ‘kay?” The more you thought about his explanation, the more worry started to worm its way into your stomach. Your mind ran back to when Hyunjin touched you: how it felt like electricity was running through your body and taking over your senses. The way he had pulled back, a shocked look on his face; something wasn’t right.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

You woke up before Jisung with only one thought in your mind. Hyunjin knew more than he was letting on. Whether it was a tactic to leave you in the dark and play with you, or to spare Jisung’s feeling, you didn’t care. You had questions and they were going to be answered, whether the boy wanted to or not.

The place was not easy to navigate. There were hundreds of halls and stairs and many of the rooms looked the same. It was by pure luck that you somehow managed to make it down to the and found Hyunjin. He didn’t look surprised to see you.

“Good morning,” he hummed.

“Yeah,” you muttered, sitting down across from him at the table. You pulled your shirt up, pointing to the birthmark on the low left of your stomach. “What exactly does this mean? Who are you? Why couldn’t you hit me?”

He took a slow sip from his mug, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Y/N, you seem to think that I have more answers than I actually do. I have a few ideas, but those are much different than knowing, aren’t they?” He paused. His face was swimming worriedly as his eyes zeroed in on the mark on your stomach. You let the shirt fall, shifting in your seat. “It-this concerns me deeply. I am… truly not sure. The ideas I have worry me because it would mean that other things are at work that I cannot control.”

“Could you stop being so fucking cryptic?” You snapped, slamming your hands on the table. Hyunjin didn’t even look remotely startled. His eyes just settled lazily on you again before he sighed.

“I fear that either another Cupid has… shot both of us somehow or that the universe folded once again.”

“What—”

“The universe folding is an expression we use to explain that something has fallen out of our hands. Every now and then, people are born with soulmates already chosen for them. Although that incident is also out of our hands, it truly only worries us when it happens to a Cupid,” he muttered, his voice growing quieter and quieter. You froze. Hyunjin frowned.

“Are you trying to tell me… that we’re soulmates?” You squeaked out. Your face was burning bright red. This couldn’t be happening. Life was already too complicated, but this was just thrown at you so viciously.

“There is one way to tell.”

You were at attention immediately. You nodded, hoping to prove that whatever was happening was just fake. That the two of you having the same birthmark was just a crazy chance. Hyunjin stood up and walked towards you. Everything moved fast, too fast for you to stop it. His fingers moved your chin up and his lips pressed down to yours. For a second, you didn’t want it, but as his lips started to slowly move against yours, you started to melt into him. The moment you let yourself fall into the kiss, sparks erupted where you touched. Fire started to spread through your body and you were happily letting it consume you.

Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him closer and pressing yourself tighter against him. Hyunjin stumbled and he struggled to catch himself. He failed and fell against you, the two of you falling to the ground. He pulled away with a gasp, his body heaving. His eyes were dilated and you were certain you looked the same.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, his body shaking against yours. “That-that was…”

“Crazy,” you whispered.

Your body was still alight at every place the two of you touched. Part of you tried to force yourself to hate it, but you couldn’t. It was like a rush; a drug that was stronger than any other. You were fighting the urge to just dive right back in.

Then your mind went to Jisung and all the sparks disappeared. Your body went cold and you pushed Hyunjin away. Your eyes pinched shut. There was so much that you had to work out. If this was what Jisung felt every time he touched you, how were you supposed to reject him? It was addictive.

“I can’t believe this,” you huffed. You looked up, staring at Hyunjin.

“What kind of game did you people just throw me into?”

303 notes · View notes

lovefollowsknowledge · 4 years

Text

Rejoice! It is time.

This picture was taken just a little over 5 years ago. More specifically, it was taken on October 22, 2015 while I was living in Michigan. And ever since October 22 of this year I have been trying to get the words out of what this year’s anniversary of this picture has meant to me, but every time I feel like I come up short. I’ve tried to write it out, pray it out, and talk it out with those closest to me, but every time I feel like I’m at a lost for words as to how to adequately convey what this year’s anniversary means to me. Because for the first time, I am not afraid.

I usually hate this time of year. During this time of year I usually avoid any old posts, old pictures, and most especially any old memories. I try to avoid anything that could remind of the day this was taken. Because on this day 5 years ago, I went into the hospital for my first time ever. It was for my depression. The days and weeks leading up to this day were intense. My mind was completely gripped by the conviction of suicide. I was starting to think in lasts. Last time I would see my family, last time I would talk to friends, last time I would drive down roads, last time I would walk along paths.

There was one time in particular I was walking along a path I had been walking almost daily. It was actually a beautiful fall day, but my mind was very very dark. I started to see everything as an opportunity, and I had already made up my mind that once I got back home that would be it. But by God’s providence alone, I was met with a busy house, too busy to do anything so severe. So I trudged along.

There was another day in particular where I was alone at work. I had gone to vigil Mass and stayed behind uncontrollably sobbing in my pew till everyone was gone and all the lights shut off. It was to the point I even had another parishioner check on me before they left. I bawled all the way down the hallway back to my office and tried so hard to distract myself with work and worship music, but nothing helped. Eventually I sought out professional help, but even that brought no relief. But again, by God’s providence alone, my therapist from California, who I hadn’t talked to in 8 months, randomly called me just to check in and talked me through all the thoughts I was having. She told me “Don’t let this be the end. FIGHT! Which for you mostly means, RECEIVE!”

One other time that I will always remember was one evening we all came back home from something, maybe vigil Mass, and it was one of those days where I had to fight with all my strength not to completely break down. So the moment we got home, I went straight to my room, locked the door, and just tossed and turned in agony on my bed not knowing how to deal with the swirl of sadness, darkness, hopelessness going on in my head. I texted Ate right away that I wouldn’t be joining them that night for whatever dinner or movie they were gonna do. But she sent Jobo to go check on me. I paced the room debating if I should just push through, let him in, and go join them. I decided against it and shooed him off. But with God’s loving and relentless providence, He sends Ate down to check on me who refuses to let me keep the door locked. I open the door, and immediately she just scoops me up in all my despair and lets me cry in her arms. We spend the rest of the night just laying in my bed as I word vomit all the sadness I had been bottling up.

Finally the day came when my doctor wouldn't let me sit in my thoughts anymore. It just wasn't safe. So she made me promise I’d take myself to the hospital, call her when I got there, and have the hospital call her if they didn’t admit me. I drove home completely stunned, shocked, and dumbfounded that it had actually reached that point. It was one of those drives I had no idea how I got home. Very emptily, I packed my stuff trying to accept the fact that I was going to the hospital with a very high chance of me staying there overnight. My brother called in that moment, and that’s when I started to break. He told me, “This is only the beginning, and I can’t wait to see you come out the other side. You’re gonna be so much stronger.” He then asked if I wanted him and Rose to come out, and very timidly, I said yes. It was hard for me to admit, but I really really needed them in that moment. I needed the assurance of love. I needed to know it was going to be okay. I needed to be taken care of. So I gave in.

That night was by far the scariest moment of my life. Kuya and Ate stayed with me till the doctors and nurses said that was as far as they could go and as long as they could stay. My heart sunk in that moment as things started to get more and more real with them leaving. I did my orientation interview with the nurse, and that’s when she told me the soonest I could get out of there was Monday bc the minimum was usually 3 days and the discharge doctor doesn’t work on weekends. Monday was 4 days away. I went to bed that night in medical robes and bawled myself to sleep. If I didn’t have a roommate I would probably be wailing with every bit of fear and anxiety within me. I was doing one of those big silent cries, where the weight is so heavy but I’m not able to make a sound.

The next 4 days were intense as I had to face my darkness straight in the eyes for my first time, with no other distractions, no other escape. I spent my days calling anyone I possibly could from those free phones, just desperate to hear a voice outside those hospital walls. Something to keep me grounded that there is life outside of this, there is hope and people waiting for me. I lived for 4-5pm, the one hour a day we were allowed to have visitors. That first day in particular, it felt like forever till Ate got there. Ohhh but when she did, it was over. We were a mess. We both hated that I was there, and we both desperately wanted me to leave, but I just couldn’t. The following days Ced and Rose were there, and a couple times even brought me the Eucharist :) It was a scary time, but also very reflective. At this point I was 99.9999% convinced I was made for suicide, and if anyone found me loved and lovable, it was them that was being deceived. But the nurses and doctors couldn’t understand why I was there because it was clear I had a good life and was blessed with a solid support system. But as I was reading through my notes from my time there - which I almost never do, except this year - I wrote what one of the doctors told me, “life starts over every 5 years, stick around and see if it gets good.”

And well, here I am 5 years later, and for the first time, instead of running in fear from the memories of this time in year, the only word I can come up with to sum up how I’m feeling is REJOICE. This year on October 22 all I wanted to do was rejoice over the memories. Instead of hiding in shame, I wanted everyone to know it’s been 5 years bc I’m honestly so proud. Because waking up on October 22, 2020 it felt like I could finally exhale. There’s something about this year that makes me feel like I can finally say, “You did it. You survived. It’s over.” There’s something about this year that makes it feel like this chapter of depression is finally over, and I can now move on. And I wish I can tell you what exactly made it that way, but I just can’t. Maybe there’s more to process, but it’s as if I just found myself on the other side. The other side that Ced talked to me about right before I went in. It’s like one of those war movies, where the scene cuts just as they’re in the middle of big explosions, and everything feels overwhelming. But the very next scene is the solider waking up, and the next thing he knows is the war is done. The battle was won, he fought the good fight, and he’s free to return home. That’s where I’ve seemed to find myself. It’s as if I found myself with the strength that Ced almost prophesied over me right before I went in. And it blows me away that on the one year I’m actually brave enough to read my old notes, this is the one I find - “life starts over every 5 years, stick around and see if it gets good.” And it’s not even that I would write to Past Mare of 5 years ago and say, “Yes! Stick around bc it does get good!” As if all this will go away soon and all my dreams will come true. Bc that 100% didn’t happen. But I would tell myself “stick around, feel the feels, voice all the thoughts, and just keep fighting. bc one day, you will find yourself free.”

Bc that’s exactly how I feel - free. It’s as if I’ve been chained down all this time, and by God’s grace the locks have been broken, and I can walk free, no conditions, no tricks, just free. Almost like Genie at the end of Aladdin. He fought the fight, he was faithful, and now the cuffs are simply off and he’s free to go. Just like that. And every time I’ve tried to write this out, pray this out, talk this out, I am brought to tears bc the freedom isn’t just from the fear and despair I felt 5 years ago in that hospital. The truth is that hospital bed was a lonnnng time coming. The tears of rejoicing that I shed now are not only for Hospital-Mare 5 years ago, but for St. Rose-Mare 7 years ago who felt like a piece of shit every single day, Newly Graduated-Mare 8 years ago who felt life was hopeless, Senior Year of College-Mare 9 years ago who couldn’t help but be attracted to the idea, and Senior Year of High School-Mare 13 years ago who felt no one would even notice or care. Bc for the first time in 13 years I am no longer plagued by the conviction that my life is irreversibly hopeless and helpless, that I am intrinsically unloved and unlovable, and that as sure as the sun will rise, I am destined for suicide. For the first time in 5 years I am no longer afraid of this time of year bc there is a still but sure certainty that my life is about to change as this 13 year battle has finally come to an end. Not that depression will be fully behind me and will no longer be a thing for me for the rest of my life, but that depression no longer runs my life. Depression no longer dictates my life. Depression may still be in the car, but it no longer drives the car of my life. And I can’t help but weep over this triumph.

It’s such a trippy and almost anticlimactic experience though bc there really isn’t 1 particular moment I can point to. (Well maybe there is but that might be for another story ;)) But even then, there was more before leading up to that moment. Like so many people, 2020 has brought a lot of loss for me. But most of mine are relationships (for different reasons). I lost a couple relationships with people who have guided me through many years of my life; I lost a very personal and close relationship; I lost the relationships from my job and all those that came with it (at least the nature of them). And while each loss has brought a lot of grief, worry, and tears, at the end of the day there was peace bc it all just felt part of the plan. It felt like watching the series finale of a show where everything starts to find resolution, bringing the show to a final and peaceful close. With every loss this year, it felt like another resolution and another part of the story coming to an end. It felt like the final pages of a book closing. And something in me just knew, this is it.

And again, I wish I could say I went to the hospital and that was it. Life was beautiful and perfect and made complete sense. But that’s just not true. I went 2 more times before moving back home to Cali and went another time for a very long stretch for what ended up being lupus. I lost a lot of dreams and cried many tears of agony and frustration and honestly straight anger towards God. But I had to keep moving. The freedom I live in now didn’t come with one big moment. It came with the last 5 years after the hospital, and the 4 years before the hospital, of doing the hard work in therapy. I had to learn to grow in trust and vulnerability. I had to learn how to receive care and love (probably the hardest part of it all). I had to be docile to practice what I was learning in therapy. I had be honest with my thoughts and feelings to myself, my therapist, the group I was in therapy with, and most especially with those closest to me, especially those I lived with. It also took a lot of trial and error wth medication. It took hard work, and a lot of it was being brave enough to enter into the darkness, let myself feel the feelings and voice the thoughts. It took a lot of letting people speak truth to me and even speaking truth to myself, even if it all felt like a lie. It took faithfulness to holy hours, receiving the Eucharist, and daily prayer time even if all I had was anger or indifference towards God, even if it all felt empty and pointless. It took repeating the name of Jesus, endlessly reciting the Memorare, and begging for St. Michael’s intercession in the scariest moments of my depression. It took long, hard work, but what brings me to cry tears of rejoicing now is not only how long it’s taken me to get here, but remembering the faithfulness of God to His promises.

7 years ago I was given the penance to read the Gospel of Mark, and the verse that struck me right away was Mk 5:41 “Taking her by the hand He said to her, ‘Talitha cumi,’ which means, ‘little girl I say to you, arise.’” Instantly, I knew the Lord was talking to me. The first promise.

5 years ago hiding in my hospital bed, I was looking for a specific verse in Isaiah, but I ended up on Is 43:18-19 “Remember not the events of past, the things of old consider not; see I am doing a new thing! Do you not perceive it? In the wilderness I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers.” Once again, instinctively I knew this was for me. It was the beginning that Ced was talking to me about before going in. The second promise.

Over the last few months, the verse that I find myself repeating to myself over and over, especially in times of most anxiety, fear, and worry is Jer 29:11 “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.” The third promise.

This year I can’t help but cry as I look at this picture and reminisce on all the intense trapped darkness because I feel like I am now standing in the fulfillment of these promises He made to me so long ago. I just feel like He’s saying, “it’s time.” It’s finally time for me to rise up. It’s finally time for me to see this new thing He’s been building and shaping for me. It’s finally time for me to walk on the water. It’s time for me to rise out of my fear and reclaim the life and joy depression has stolen from me all those years. And in that rising, in that reclaiming, also comes the gift, the permission, the freedom to dream again and the grace and courage to pursue those dreams. Me! Me, dream again! It’s the most surreal experience that I could actually be free to walk into the light, dare to dream anew, and live unafraid of the consequences should failure come. Me! Unafraid! I just keep thinking, who the heck do I think I am that I could dream and live unafraid? That I could be free to live life joyfully again? To live bravely? To live unchained? Who am I? And I honestly can’t answer that. I can’t say I’m deserving. I can’t say to myself it is safe and possible. But the Lord in all His patience and authority just keeps saying, it is time. Today, once again in God’s providence, I happen to come across Dn 10:19 “Fear not, beloved, you are safe; take courage and be strong.” And I just feel like He’s like “Yes, you!” haha. What trips me up is realizing that healing isn’t always this big, extravagant thing. Sometimes, it’s the slow but steady work of God. Sometimes it’s just doing the work day in and day out, and being faithful to that work, and one day the Lord gives you the grace to see you’re already there. The fight is won, and you are free. No strings attached, no tricks. Just free.

I don’t have all the answers. In fact, I’ll be honest, I’ve been fighting the Lord like “Are you sure??! bc I have no idea how to do life outside of this depressed world!” I feel like Rapunzel in Tangled, who dreams all those years of leaving her tower to pursue the lights. But once her chance has finally come and she’s able to taste a new, free life, guilt takes over her, and she goes back and forth if it was the right decision - Do I dare to believe my identity could be more than my depression? This reality I’ve known for so much of my life. Do I dare take the Lord up on His offer and leave my dark tower? - But as she keeps going and finally makes it to the boats, she admits she’s afraid, “what if it’s not everything I hoped it would be?…and what if it is?” To which she’s told, “that’s the good part, you get to dream a new dream.” And as things unfold, she suddenly finds herself unafraid. And that’s where I feel I am. It’s scary bc I don’t have all the answers, I don’t have it all completely mapped out like I’d like, but all I know is it is finally my time to arise. It’s time for me to feel that water as I step out of the boat. It's time to dare to dream again, dare to live life again, and this time walk along side our Lord every step of the way. Let Him dream His dreams through me. Let my dreams unite with His. And dare I admit, I’m actually getting excited about it! :)

It’s scary, and it calls for a new level of vulnerability, and I am begging everyday for the courage to lean into this new life. But at this point all I can say is I can’t believe I made it! I can’t believe it’s over! I can’t believe I survived! And I know I wouldn't be here if it weren’t for the countless prayer warriors I have out there, prayer warriors I’m not even aware of. All the prayers, the rosaries, the Masses, the holy hours that have been offered up for me. Graces I’m sure I will be unpacking for the rest of my life. And I most especially wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for those closest to me while I was in the thick of it. Special shout out to the Urginos, to my parents, to Ced and Rose, to Ming and King, and to Age - those that literally stopped their lives just to be by my side 5 years ago. And to Hyds and Anhel who dealt with every frantic text during that time (and who still do) and never tired of speaking truth to me. I’ve screenshotted so many of our texts, and I still go back to them every now and then on some of my hardest days. And of course to my therapists, my doctors, my spiritual directors. For carrying every heavy thought with me and never letting up. And finally, to all my Kuya and Ate Saints, I know it was you guys holding me up and keeping me close to the Lord when I couldn’t do it myself.

Glory to God through Mary! I have no idea what’s next, but thank You in advance for whatever happens from here. Let’s get it! :)

LDM

16 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Next Caller Pt 42

“It’s supposed to be Sheppard’s Pie, but it’s more of a, swirl than layered.” Giggling softly you sat down I the chair beside him.

“Looks delicious all the same.”

Sheepishly he grinned at you and he asked, “How was work?”

“Quiet as usual, saw three check outs, got some decent tips I handed over.”

“How does that work with tips?”

“Well you turn them in each night and they take note of them for taxes, the total is added to your checks monthly, and there’s options to send it or a part at least to the cooks who make our lunches.”

“That’s a nice touch.”

“Well we’re not allowed to tip generally, only paying guests can.” After wetting your lips you asked, “How was the shop?”

“Good, only stopped in for a bit. They didn’t really need me today. Keep finding reasons to send me home early anyways lately.”

“Imagine that,” you teased making him smirk at you. “I should warn you though, we’ll be having company near breakfast tomorrow.”

“Really?”

You nodded, “Apparently I am the only show host willing to aid in a repair air time slot on our floor and now that I have my own booth Echo and Glori will be over to help set it up to broadcast from here. Don’t know what Mal will get up to past possibly nap.”

Thorin chuckled again, “I am certain she could find something to help with the show.”

“Haven’t much recorded bits for her to signal and with the system I have the touch screen in the booth I can link to the monitors outside to signal audio clips.”

“Well I am certain it will be a rousing success. How long will the repairs last?”

“Two weeks, minimum. Depending on how much of a fuss the other shows put up sounds like. I think they’re wanting to add in a second sound booth so we won’t have to ant march past one another. No doubt with some special touches for each show, bunnies flooded on mine for instance,” making him chuckle again in your next giggle.

“Right, um, I was meant to ask on behalf of Bofur’s daughter, Shari, and her boyfriend Ori,”

“Boyfriend?”

He nodded, “Yes, he’s a mix between Firebeard and Broadbeam, just barely related through Dain to our clan by marriage. Many get confused, Shari takes more after her Hobbit Amad to having our Durin looks.”

“Ok, you were saying?”

“Right, yes, the pair of them graduated art school and they were watching your show on Bombadil and they love the style that matches theirs and they were wondering if you might have some tips to get them started in animating. They have a summer program starting soon they got intern spots on but it’s months off.”

“Oh, um, I mean if they want something to do they could help me fill in coloring on my panels. It’ll be mind numbing and painful for their hands but if they’re up for it...”

“They will be. I’ll text Bofur after dinner.”

“Isn’t it a bit late?”

“His shift ends in an hour, a night owl as well works in the business side with Gran and Gramps.”

“Ok, ya, well if they’ll be up they could be here before my show and they can work through it if they like otherwise I could try to work a weekend thing out.”

He shook his head, “They’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Will I be needing to supervise them then? Boyfriend and all?”

Chuckling to himself he shook his head and replied, “No. Not at all you focus on your show they will be focused on work. They are Ones, and are of no risk, fully trusted.”

Plates emptied through sharing a bit more on possible plans for the week for him while you were at the hotel and smirking as you eyed the messages on the board from the birds you helped fill the dish washer he started then paused at your hug. Wrapping his arms around you in return he asked, “What is this for?”

“Apparently you want hugs, Cuddle Monster.”

Thorin laughed and kissed he top of your head, guiding you along halfway releasing you, “Come on, off to bed with you. Big day tomorrow.”

You nodded and after changing to comfy flannels and a halfway sheer tank top you flopped into your bed and wiggles under the covers in the room beginning to warm by the fire to the distant sound of Thorin answering Bofur’s confirming call to secure the details he was all too elated to hand over.

Up you sat to the sound of a doorbell and out of bed you climbed frowning your way to the door as you awoke. Opening the door you brushed your hair back and looked to BamBam in his bag alone on your porch making you step out and peer over into your front garden where Mal has chased a paper of hers. Bending down you picked up the bag watching Mal huffing in snatching it up and turning around to join you on the porch. “Sorry,” taking hold of BamBam’s bag saying, “Keep losing my notes, got a tear in my bag buying a new one after this.”

“Oh that’s good,” you said as she stepped in and you watched Echo pull into your driveway with a truck parked on the street behind it.

To the door the techies strolled after Echo with all their supplies in heavy looking bags that you guided inside and through the house past Thorin heading to the kitchen to get started on breakfast. “Want some tea?”

The Elves shook their heads thanking him for the offer and Echo said, “Tea would be lovely, thank you. Should not take long.”

The dark room seemed in an odd place to the techs but when you switched on the lights their lips parted at how the space was so far from what they had expected out of an old storage room. “Booth is over there, clearly, and the audio set up is over here in this corner.”

They nodded and got to work as Mal looked the space over still gawking and Echo said, “This is splendid. I should warn you I had some bodies in my trunk.”

Your brow inched up and unnoticed to you at the tail end of the group you saw Elrond’s twin uncles holding their work kits and rolling stools for said kits you accepted hugs from, “What are you doing here?”

Elured chuckled replying, “Glori said you were working on a commercial. We know you’ll need help.”

Elurin, “In town till Saturday, then we have to help with some mural in Gondor since they had a row with Beorn over his bear theater so he is retaliating through art.”

You giggled and nodded saying, “I’ll grab my sketches, just have bare characters so far.”

Elured, “Better to have us here for the mind numbing part.”

Elurin, “Jackrabbit we love coloring books you know that.”

The stacks of bound sections had them smirking on the path back to their waiting stools and kits they rolled to the wavy desk and eyed the notes you had made and Mal asked, “All of that is for a commercial?”

The twins answered, “Anyone can just morph the expression changes and motions on top of a stagnant body pose, we prefer old school, frame by frame to make it flawless.”

Their heads turned as Thorin came in with tea for Echo who was admiring your carpet for the booth one techie was inside of. “Jaqi, kids are here,”

You nodded and when Ori and Shari came into view flashing quick grins at Mal whom they recognized in the sea of Elves. “Hey, good to see you, I know it’s early, but um, these are my friends Elured and Elurin here to help with the commercial as well.” Feeling the curiously smirking twins looking you three over you said, “Ori and Shari here just graduated from art school and wanted to get some tips on animating before a summer program of theirs.”

Elurin chuckled, “No problem there, we have the best break into it right here.”

Elured motioned the closer, “Come in, while Jackrabbit eats we’ll give you the basics on it.” The pair moved in and while you stepped out Mal went with you and Thorin leaving them to it so you could eat. Smirking as she saw you winding your curls up into an awkward bun already starting to droop. “Sleep well?” She asked and you nodded.

“Not bad. Just a bit earlier than usual.” At your seat you lifted your mug of tea to sip on then said, “I’m good.”

She sat down beside you still keeping hold of BamBam asleep on his bag and asked, “Seriously, all that was the commercial?”

You nodded, “Three full minutes. And it’s just the characters, no background or color yet.”

“Get out.”

You giggled, “It takes a lot of patience to be an animator.” Looking her over you asked, “How was your night? You look like you’re holding something.” She smirked and you said, “Besides him.”

Sheepishly she said, “I got an interview.”

“Ooh,” That had Thorin looking over at her wondering if she was aiming for another job.

“Well you know I’m two years left on my Marine Biology degree so I can finally start interning, and there’s a really great program in the Grey Havens this summer. The head of it picked out my application, loved my profile page I had to make and wants to come interview me on Thursday.” Her eyes scanned over you.

“That’s amazing, why are you looking at me like that if you need the summer off I won’t be mad go follow the fish in the sea.” Making her smile as you added, “I won’t stand in your way.”

“See, thing is, they needed to pick an interview location, and, well, I sort of gave them your address.” Your brow inched up and Thorin chuckled to himself, “See, I can’t take them to the Tea shop, or the tattoo parlor which I live over, but no doubt they’ll get crushed by something toppling over. Can’t use Bilbo’s house because no doubt Frodo will streak through coated in bubbles with Bilbo and Dwalin after him. And it’s on Thursday and I hoped if you were here and off the show you might let me use the dining room or parlor just for the interview I swear I’ll pay you back or do chores or whatever you need.”

Rolling your eyes you said. “It’s fine. Not a problem, good impressions, I get that. Rented my friend Elrond’s tea room once for one of mine. Thank you for actually asking. So, details.” You said taking another sip.

“Well, it’s mainly working with a shark preservation camp. Heading out to inspect, observe, tag and all that with some work helping on the rescues and injured sharks back at their base. Most first timers don’t get to go in the deep ocean yet so mainly I might just be centered around nursing in the base and compiling data maybe.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad, do you get to be the one to give the baby sharks their lollipops?” She gave you a playful glare and you giggled back, “I’m sorry I’m not trying to tease you. You say shark nurse and that’s what I see a baby shark sick in bed just waiting for its lollipop and temp to be taken.”

A grin cracked across her lips, “Alright, it is a cute image.”

“You’ll have to send pictures.”

“I’ll have to get in first.” She sighed out as Thorin started to set food down in front of you, gesturing at it in a silent question if she wanted some she shook her head as you spoke freeing him to grab his own food.

“You’ll get in you love rescuing animals. I mean come on you even took in an injured Mortar boar for Vanna’s sake.”

“Ooh, cast off this weekend, Dain is so thrilled he’s planning a party for Truffles and him to welcome BamBam fully.”

“Aww, so sweet.” After another sip you lowered your mug asking, “Why wouldn’t they take you? Since you’re so critical of being accepted.”

“Well, for the blaring obvious reason no Dwarves have been accepted before, and only a handful of Hobbits, who all got especially high class jobs from the internship.”

“So what’s the problem? You love sharks, they’ll let you in.”

“Ok, you don’t,” she sighed, “Cirnaven is one of the hardest researchers out there-,”

“Cirnaven?” You asked in fluid Elvish correcting the pronunciation wondering if she was trying to say someone else’s name instead.

“I, yes... wait have you heard of him? Is he really famous out there? I know you came through the Grey Havens and Lindon.”

“He’s my step father’s twin brother.” That dropped her jaw that lowered even more as you said, “He used to take me on his runs when I lived there.”

“Jaqi!! You went diving with him?!”

Following a timid nod you said, “He’s the one who helped me with my water therapy.”

Her mood dimmed a moment then spiked again as she asked at Thorin’s settling down at the table patting your hand before easing your utensils closer to your hand signaling you to eat. “Could you put in a good word then?”

“No doubt I already have.” Her brows arched up and you said, “Look, I don’t have many friends and my calls home got boring, I have talked about you and my Naneth had three times as many questions on you as your parents had on me. I wasn’t kidding when I gave you their best on holidays and your name day. No doubt Cirnaven was told about you and the name caught a flag.” You paused a moment as you said, “Come to think of it I can’t remember him taking anyone outside of Numenor past the Misty Mountains.”

Mal pointed at you, “See! My point! Right there.”

“And you invited them right to my house,” you teased.

“I-,” her voice cracked a moment as that set in that if they had wondered if she was your friend that the address would no doubt confirm you were her friend.

“Game and point.”

“I don’t think that’s the term,” Thorin muttered around his mouthful and you sighed around yours making him chuckle. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be heading out in a little bit. Won’t know I’m here, give you plenty of privacy.”

“You do know you live here, right?” He nodded smirking as you continued, “Just making sure. Not gonna be naked in the booth no need for privacy, you’d be listening anyways so no need to scurry away.”

“New inventory today, Balin will need me.”

“Ooh, jealous.” You teased making him smirk and chuckle causing Mal to smirk watching the pair of you bantering.

“What am I in store for then? If I may?”

“Not much, just breaking into Durin’s house.” Making him almost choke on his food and coughed a few moments.

Mal, “You do know that’s grounds for proposal depending on what Bunny does?”

You smirked at her making him chuckle and say stabbing another slice of waffles, “Gran no doubt will be calling again in that case. Can’t wait.”

Mal, “Will they at least be engaged by tomorrow?”

“Not yet.”

The pair of them groaned and you giggled. Thorin asked, “How is that possible, tradition is they break in and he has to propose for surprising him in his dwelling.”

“For a traditional break in yes.” His brow inched up as you said, “It’s his birthday.”

“Not till November.” He grumbled back.

“Well if he would have answered Bunny’s question it wouldn’t be but it is now.”

He pointed his fork at you, “You’re doing this on purpose.”

You giggled again and Mal said, “You said Durin and the bantering isn’t till book two, when do they get together, and I mean full courtship wide open.”

“Book four.” Again they groaned and you took another bite of your food. “Just wait till book three, when he gets to wooing.”

Thorin smirked holding back his argument that according to Dwarf traditions has been clearly wooing Bunny already leaving you your surprises knowing they would be amply worth it.

Echo shared fully how the system was to work and assured you he was staying for the first show with Glori confirming it was airing flawlessly as it should from the station where the work crew had just gotten started. Into your booth you went leaving the young couple between the twins wondering where the rest of the crew was for the show. Up onto your stool you sat settling your notebook on the stand inside the small booth and you inhaled sharply tapping the screen on the monitor there to confirm in the countdown to being live that you were ready. And through your headphones you slipped on the opening music played at Mal’s tap from behind the desk across the room while BamBam napped on the floor beside her feet.

“Hey hey hey, it’s me your dear friend Bunny, devoted as ever with my ear to the ground here to give you all the latest. Today however much like before we are on an adventure as I happen to be scaling a wall at the moment carrying you with me.”

At the shop Thorin smirked at the opening wondering how the break in would take place and go over with his kin.

“Now, we seem to be locked in quite a dilemma because I find myself committing quite the crime of the century, but you see it really can’t be helped as it is entirely out of my own volition you see.” Brows inched up wondering what violent ends Bunny was facing to commit a crime. “Quite bluntly not two days passed I had been thwarted in trying to discover the birthday of King Durin, and so now here I am, scaling this monstrosity of a wall to bake for the stubborn King. Whether he likes it or not, the truth of it is, no matter what today is now his birthday and he shall just have to live with the fact that today of all days even as a King he cannot escape an impending cake.”

Carrying out through the process inside and through the palace and unloading of ingredients as several smirking servants were noted by the narrator taking over for you. Blending in was Durin still brooding away as to how his next meeting with Bunny would go after their last speaking ending in a row recapped for those listening in seeing the painfully easy to remedy dilemma the pair faced. With his sharing the date he misunderstood her reasoning to know and her sharing her intentions for spending said date with him. All wishing to simply drag both characters to lock them in a room until they shared they loved one another.

Colors had been set out and divided up with your reference colored sketch taped up for the new duo and Elured said, “Now, you handle the gown base, you the wrap,”

Elurin, “Just leave the details to us.”

Ori eyed one of the panels asking, “what are these lines?” Asking about the fainter lines aimed from two tally marks landing across Beatrice and the chair underneath her.

Elured, “Those are light references. Now this one is from the lamp, so to this we will add a golden hue, while others with moonlight shall be more silvery white.”

Shari, “Jaqi adds light references? These are on nearly every panel looks like.”

Elurin chuckled, “Like we said, Jackrabbit is very old fashioned. Used to carrying the weight and thanks to that it makes this so much simpler for us.”

Elured, “Now, around those lines color your spots in and we will show you how we treat those sections.”

Getting to coloring with colored wax pencils they filled in their sections and passed the images on only to watch as the brothers colored the light strips in with non wax colored pencil they then painted over with a golden hue coloring up to where the lamp would be adding more depth to the scenes. The twins taking turns with each panel on the smaller details they let dry and accepted the next pair in a slow building stack from the first section that Echo smirked in seeing coming to life.

A detail on the chair however had Ori asking, “These symbols, on this chair, what are they? Some old form of Elvish?”

Elurin, “No, Troll.” That had the couple looking at him.

Shari, “Why would Miss Pear add Troll runes to this tale? I know she added Troll characters to her old show-,”

Elured, “Back in her apartment before her move to Beryl she lived in a Troll town. Babysat for a family of Trolls, all while the first show was in development.”

Elurin, “Gorufndunt, the little boy, one day he started crying so hard. A game promoting a Troll character just ended up the butt of jokes and mocked and abused because out of the band of warriors he was the lone Troll and by public opinion was meant to be mocked and insulted. Gorufndunt believed so much that for once there could be a Troll outside Troll media that was more than that.” That had their lips parting.

Elured, “So Jackrabbit put her foot down, we revamped the entire second half of the first season to include a Troll Warrior named Gorufndunt, with his parents’ permission that is, to use his name. She fought so hard to keep him strong and respectable and true to their traditions. Sure there were misunderstandings and a few teasing snippets, and he was a clown at times, but for his own choosing nothing to do with his race. Fully respected member of the team and looked up to.”

Shari, “What did the little boy think?”

The twins smiled replying, “He loved it. Every moment, and he was so proud.”

Echo, “Small hands turn the wheels of the world. That move was not much, but it started the motion all the same. She knew how much it meant to him and it would mean to so many other little children watching looking for someone to look up to just like them.”

Ori asked, “How did he like the next season, wasn’t there a family in that one?”

Their smiles dropped and Elured said, “There was a fire, in their apartment building. None of the family could get out, Jackrabbit barely did. Their names are in the memorial clips at the credits, and for the second season after reaching out to their clan she was granted permission to add a family for the warrior with their names. All equally as strong and respectable in their own ways, even little Brumble in her wobbling years.”

Elurin, “Their clan was honored to have them live on, their little quirks, and snippets of their lives that their heirs now get to watch with pride seeing the characters their ancestors inspired.”

Echo, “When Jackrabbit’s Ada’s clan had all but disowned her Trolls showed her kindness and friendship, one she feels to have betrayed in losing that family from the world. With all her projects she tries to add little hints to make people wonder and possibly inspect to look up their history.”

Mal hurried back to her desk from her bathroom break stepping over BamBam on his path around the room again and with a call from Glori Echo stood in your own commercial break you exited the booth saying, “Excuse me,” hopping over BamBam to hurry out the room.

Back again you came letting out a breath asking Ori and Shari in a peer over the desk, “How you doing?”

Shari grinned at you flexing her fingers and hands in the break, “Good. Thank you for giving us this chance.”

“Well I’d like to help where I can, and you’re really doing me the service.”

Ori, “Can we ask what the Countess is saying?”

“Give it till Thursday and you can hear the audio clip recordings yourselves. Giving it a simple try and hopefully they will like it.”

Echo said walking over, “If anything you might have to invite Gorgo over on the weekend to give it a once over.” Leaning in had claimed a warm hug, “Glori needs some back up, I do believe you have it under control from here.”

By the time you had returned however Echo sighed saying, “Glori needs me.”

On your toes you accepted his hug saying, “I’ve got it, go have fun, about to throw some flamingos into this pool party.” Making him chuckle and leave as you said, “I can drop the guys off after the show.”

“You are doing spectacular Dear JackRabbit.”

Mal said, “Don’t know how you stay sane in that box.”

Smirking at her from the doorway you said, “You just have to change the way you think.”

She rolled her eyes, “Let me guess, outside the box?”

You giggled closing the door and moving back to your stool to add your headphones again readying to dip back into the show again, yet when you came back on the air you looked down hearing a snorting in the booth while you were describing setting the table with all the food you had made only to have light fill the box when Mal crept inside pulling BamBam out of the box she closed mouthing an apology. Chuckles came from the trio in the tea shop knowing where the odd boar noises came from others largely ignored.

Pt 43

@avaria-revallier , @c-s-stars - Stars hope you like the details coming up about your dear Mal :D

#Thorin x Reader OC #Tea Shop AU #Modern AU #Hobbit #lotr #Fili/Kili x OC Mal

12 notes · View notes

blissfulalchemist · 4 years

Note

Can I have RowanChance for the OTP thing, my dear? 😘

Okay I managed to get this one done just before I have to get ready for work. Just like with you and WrenWes this will be more from Chance’s view. I tried though.

Rowan x Chance

General:

Rate the Ship -

How long will they last? - This could really be a long term relationship. Chance doesn’t hold his breath or want to think about it ending because that’s not really helpful to anyone. He wants to enjoy the moment. I’m sure Rowan forever the optimist sees this going till the end.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Okay listen, Chance falls fast for people, he doesn’t say anything until he’s sure that’s what he feels. Chance starts to feel in love by like the fourth or fifth date but won’t say anything about it until a few months in. Rowan most likely said it first.

How was their first kiss? - Third date Chance “hears” something in the distance and moves them behind a tree. Tells Rowan that they should kiss to hide from whatever creature he comes up with on the spot better. It’s soft and warm mixed with smiles both knowing how it didn’t need to be that elaborate.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Chance isn’t scared of commitment but he’s not really one to want to get married. There will forever be this fear that it’ll end badly if they do, that the curse is going to hit another generation. Rowan seems better adjusted and will instead opt for a proposal of long term commitment for Chance. So like instead of “Will you marry me?” it’s more “Will you join me on this adventure forever?”

Who is the best man/men? - Chance would have Wheaty as the best man, other groomsmen would be Hurk Jr and Sharky, who promise that they don’t have fireworks hidden on them.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - I mean Wren obviously. She’s also the one to officiate.

Bonus: Boomer is the ring bearer.

Who did the most planning? - It wasn’t a very big thing there wasn’t much planning involved, though Chance got overwhelmed and let Rowan do most of it helping where he could and needed too.

Who stressed the most? - Chance. He has a hard time letting go of the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. He also just wants the day to be everything Rowan wanted.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Not the fanciest, it was optional to wear super fancy dress wear. Chance wore a nice suit, one his dad would wear to functions to present findings at and he would also have his grandfather’s formal ring as his commitment ring. Rowan would wear a lovely white dress with accents of dark green.

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 This ceremony was never meant to be big, and became bigger than Chance anticipated, like he thought just the two of them wheaty and wren, but it had nice touches and felt like something formal while being outdoors. For sure happened out in the Whitetails in Rowan’s favorite spot.| Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Eli. Chance doesn’t know a ton of people, basically if he didn’t think to invite you then that should say something.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Both, though Rowan a little more so.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Chance once comfortable will always love to have his hands on Rowan which turns to teasing that then turns to more.

How healthy is their sex life? - Healthy, Chance is always up for some and even when they get busy the two like to make sure there’s some time in there for fun.

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 Minimum once a week but there is no objection to more, I am also going to count just anything that ends in orgasm as sex because at the end of the day that’s what matters most.| 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Chance has done...well a lot….he’s down to try anything once. He let’s Ro set the pace on it though.

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 Look again Chance has done a lot and tried different things, will admit he doesn’t mind being topped by women, quiets enjoys it to be frank.| 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Chance will last as long as needed for Ro to get her pleasure. Boy is a giver.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Yes.

How rough are they in bed? - I cheat because honestly just depends on the mood and where they’re at.

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - Chance loves to cuddle and loves holding Ro. He likes to stroke her hair or make her smile so he can see her dimples. He loves to be able to have physical contact with Ro, makes him feel safe.

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - I don’t think I could see them having any naturally. Maybe one if it was fated.

How many children will they adopt? - Two. Chance loves the idea of adoption a lot more given that he was adopted himself.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - They try to make it equal but Chance is used to seeing single dad life and so defaults to it.

Who is the stricter parent? - While Rowan isn’t strict in the bad way, she would be perceived as the stricter parent cause Chance can’t take many things seriously. He can be a big kid himself so there’s that.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Again Rowan. Chance would encourage or try it first just to make sure they won’t get hurt to badly.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Both do, though what their contents are varies on who packed them.

Who is the more loved parent? - Loved equally but like they have a cooler aunt so they don’t exist once she comes around.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - For all of Chance’s joking and not being serious, he takes education very seriously. He’s right there making sure his kids and others have what they need to succeed.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Both cried equally. Chance cried more later behind closed doors, he’s got a lot of feelings about it.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Chance will but I feel so will Rowan and dole out the punishment at home that is appropriate.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Rowan is the better cook so she does.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - I would have to say Rowan cause Chance is someone that lived off of gas station food and once you get to that point I don’t think you become picky about food.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Rowan gives Chance the list and he gets everything to her liking.

How often do they bake desserts? - Rowan bakes a lot of them by hand. Chance bakes the boxed desserts for her on occasion.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - They are even, though more towards the meat side. Rowan is a hunter so there’s always some fresh game, Chance fishes enough that there is always some fish in that freezer too.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - It would be who can beat the other to it first.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Chance. There’s only so much home cooking you can do and he likes to show Rowan off.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Chance. He gets lost in his head and also is not the best cook to begin with.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Chance, sometimes things have to be a certain way.

Who is really against chores? - Neither likes doing them but it has to be done.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Whoever gets to it first but like they live out in the middle of the woods so they don’t have too if they let the dogs out.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Neither.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Rowan, I feel like she cares more about appearance than Chance.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Rowan, she has better eyes for spotting things like that.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Rowan, more so if Chance decides to “help” her.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They both like walking the dogs so they each get a leash. Or the dogs become trained enough to not be leash bound.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Major holidays they decorate.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Chance has the goal of having a partner in the adventure and journey we call life.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Chance. He gets weird sleep schedules.

Who plays the most pranks? - Chance. Nothing too harmful, but he likes seeing chemical reactions occur here and there. Rowan tries to get him back and while he figures it out quickly sometimes and just lets it happen so he can see her smile.

3 notes · View notes

whatzaoverwatch · 5 years

Text

Demons Vow Part 2

Yall wanted a part 2 so here is a part two. This one got a bit lengthy so there maybe a possible part 3 (with nsfw? Hoho maybe) Part 1 Part 2

Five Months Ago

You had taken an off path from work that night. Working overtime cost you the last bus ride back to your place and you were stuck taking the alternative route. Just a path within the park that wasn’t exactly the safest place to be. Having it be the middle of the night didn’t help your situation either. It was a good thing you were cautious enough to have your cellphone fully charged in hand and a bag heavy enough to strike down anyone that came near you.

Everything within the woods managed to startle you. From the cool air of the wind to the sound of your footsteps. Even a street cat was more mundane than your state. It wasn’t really something you could overcome, hearing every now and again how certain people disappeared around the area. You could be walking to your own death if you weren’t careful.

Just before you fell deeper into your thoughts to escape the silence around you, a rustle came very close by. Slowing your movements until you were completely still in place. Your knuckles turned white from how hard you gripped your bag. Keeping an eye on where the noise came from and where the safest escape route was. Swallowing thickly, you noticed the branches rustling with a shadow looming against the moonlight.

“Who’s there?” You called out rather meekly, stepping back a bit in case the presence made a running start.

But what you did find instead was a person lingering in the shadows. Staggering against the trees in a hunched stance. Furrowing your brows, your focus fixated on the silhouette and the weight it rested against the oak. Before you could heed a warning, you could very distinctly hear heavy breathing from the figure. A sound that was raspy rather than threatening. The more you could make out the shadow, the sudden colour you found smeared against the tree from its form made you petrified: red. All instincts told you to run the other way, to escape what could be a maniac. But they didn’t seem fixated on you whatsoever, only to how much they could remain standing up. Trying to keep their balance only to slump onto the grass beneath them. Hearing them curse before mumbling aloud.

“Perhaps I am weak as he says…” He spoke rather harshly upon himself. Glancing quickly upwards when he realized he wasn’t alone. At first he seemed relaxed, but your continuous observance made him rather nervously, “Y-You can’t see me can you?”

You blinked in confusion, unsure on what he meant by that. Foolishly, you approached him with a nod.

“Am I not supposed to?” Asking him curiously, only to find the figure leaning against the branch with a curse.

“No…you’re not suppose to be here in the first place. Is this your intention, brother? To have me die before a mortal?” Now he started to sound even more delusional, you thought. The best you could do was to run at this point.

But your eyes fixated on the red against the tree. Once the moon reflected off the branches, you realized what he meant by dying. This man wasn’t posing a threat, he was injured. Your nurturing side kicked in as you knew you couldn’t leave him helpless like this. Brushing all fear, you had to help.

“A-Are you alright??” You asked aloud for his attention once more, only for a set of red eyes to leer back at you.

“Stay away!” The man growled distastefully, warning you of any approach you dared to make. Kneeling to the ground close by, you proceeded to get a better look.

The figure was a man in black clothing, hugging his torso from where the blood was seeping from. His face was covered in what seemed to be a mask that reflected a set of red eyes. Broken and marked with blood as if it had witnessed a battle. Weapons rested on his backside that shared the same shade of crimson. What ever happened to cause such a thing? Why hadn’t you seen a man like this before? Scrambling to look in your bag, you shook your head at his threat.

“You’re injured, please let me help.” Finally finding a spare uniform shirt you held onto, you proceeded to scoot over. Attempting to assist him, only for a hand to quickly reach out and snatch your wrist. Glaring at you even more with a hiss.

“I said, stay away from me! I do not need a mortals help.” There he said it again: mortal. What did that mean? You questioned in your mind for later, trying to rid the soreness of his grip. Bundling the shirt in your grasp, you shook your head.

“No! You’re hurt, I am not going to leave you here to just die. I know I can’t do much but let me try,” You don’t know why you persisted, he could easily kill you with the weapons you had if he could. But you knew better than to let him stay like this. Despite the still expression upon the mask, you could sense the conflict. Debating on whether to depend on you with his life. Placing a hand over the one he held you with, you gave him a sincere look, “Please…”

The wind blew softly against both of your skins. Moonlight just shifting itself to get a better look against your forms. Seeing how much more the damage was than the darkness presented. All hesitation ceased when he released your hand. A silent permission to continue your actions. It was more than enough for you, beckoning him to lean back as you inspected the wound. A large gash was revealed against his torso, deep enough to see pale skin within the black material. Using the shirt, you gently pressed against the wound with a shake of your head.

“This looks bad, we will need to take you to a hospital.” He winced with a sharp breath, causing you to mumble an apology before he shook his head.

“N-No hospital.” He hissed tilting his head to the side. Pressing your lips to a thin line, every part of this man screamed for you to run, but you remained with another offer.

“I may have some supplies at home that can help, but I am no doctor.” You noticed him staring at you as you spoke, trying to focus yourself on the wound, “But I’ll need you to come with me.”

“Why are you helping me?” He questioned, stilling your movements for a moment. Thinking upon the what ifs and the bad turns this could result to. But it only trailed to one thing: this man was injured and for some reason, you trusted him.

“I…I don’t know. Right now, I want to get this patched up before it gets infected, come on.” Gesturing for him to hold onto the shirt, you scooted to his side.

Placing his arm over your shoulder as you got up. Apologizing profusely when he winced in pain from the movement. You shifted his weight closer to you to keep some of the pain at a minimum. Hearing his shaky breath, you guided him out of the park and slowly towards your home.

“Do you have a name?” You asked, breaking the silence between you two to focus away from the pain. You noticed him glancing down at you once more. Expressionless behind the mask before he spoke.

“I do.”

“What is it?”

“Why do you need to know?” Looking away from the masks stare, you adjusted yourself a little with a shrug.

“Just curious. If you’d rather hear my name first, it’s [Name].” Feeling those eyes, peel away from you, you weren’t certain what he was thinking at this moment.

“Genji.”

“Well, I’d say nice to meet you, but I don’t think this is the most ideal way to meet someone.” You snorted, trying to pick some humor out of the situation. Just passing the gates, you suddenly heard him chuckle softly.

“Well at least someone takes to my jokes.”

Everything after that moment was such a surreal blur. When you took him home (without any suspicion from your landlord or neighbours) to when you finally tended to his wounds. At first, you began to deny what were the obvious hints that Genji was not normal. To the pale skin and the claws beneath his gloves when you instructed him to remove them for assistance. The only thing he told you not to remove was his mask. You didn’t question it then, but you understood that notion now.

That morning is when the realization hit you. A co-worker came by asking why you didn’t head into work that day and you proceeded to explain how you helped someone. You went to present the man before the worker, only for them to not see anyone. Despite Genji being in the same room, it was as if he didn’t exist to your co-worker. Before you began to wonder if this was all a delusion, he proceeded to explain before you started to lose it.

He was not human, but in fact, a thousand-year-old demon that lived outside the city. Raised among a very secretive clan that was to remain hidden from the mortals. But he was always so fascinated by mortal culture and how they functioned unlike demons. Forbidden as it was he always observed. Unfortunately his defiance was exposed to the clan and most importantly his brother. Claiming it as an act of treason for betraying the clan, he was targeted for trail and potential execution. Banished from his home gravely wounded, he managed to escape with the last strings of life in his grasp. That was until you found him.

“No mortal has ever seen a demon, properly that is. We choose whether we are to be seen, but it is up to the mortal whether they wish to listen.”

That’s what he told you, but he also claimed something else that set your path on the one you were living in.

“Given that I no longer have a home and you saved my life, I am now indebted to you. That is a Demons Vow, to assist and guide another until their debt is fully repaid.”

So here you were with a demon within your home. Or better yet, a little bit of a freeloader until he becomes overprotective of you. At least that’s what it seemed to you for a good while. It was clear that he was from a higher household as his demeanour and needs reflected one of nobility. In simpler terms: he was a brat. Often teasing you in your mortal ways and discovering ways to fuck around with anyone near you. Such as today for instance, when he scared away the creep that had been heckling you for weeks. He knew your discomfort and he only wanted to try and help the situation. That’s when you realized, that maybe this one time, you were wrong with being upset with him.

Thinking upon that as you watched from the couch at his cooking. Surprisingly enough, he was a good cook. Self taught from watching humans he claimed upon the first meal he made for you. Honestly, he cooked better than you and anything was better than heating up cheap ramen with no flavor. Nibbling the ends of your hoodie sleeves as he worked, his back facing you while he proceeded to finish the meal. Silence was no stranger to the household, knowing the walls were thin and neighbours presuming you were talking to yourself wasn’t a good image. But you couldn’t help but look over Genjis form.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t develop a crush on the demon. He was very sweet sometimes and he knew how to make you laugh. Caring for you and sharing stories from when he was younger. Out of anyone you had met in the city, you felt that you had a real relationship with Genji. But the reality always had to strike back every now and again: he was only here because he was indebted to you.

If he wasn’t, you’d be certain he wouldn’t stick around someone who was a stick in the mud like you. He had immortality, freedom, and charming looks you could only imagine he hide beneath the mask. You were just a run of the mill human who clung to her thankless job to remain in the city. What would he ever want with someone like you?

“Didn’t you always tell me it was rude to stare at someone?”

Snapping back from your numbing thoughts, you realized you gaze on him didn’t go unnoticed. He truly was a ninja as he claimed. Ceasing your chewing against the material of your sweater, you sighed and hugged your legs.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, stopping his work for a moment to turn his head. Not enough to look at you, but enough to have you continue, “I’m sorry that I got mad at you for scaring him away. You were right, he had been making me uncomfortable and I wanted nothing to do with him. Same with the landlord, you were only trying to protect me. I shouldn’t be mad at you for that.”

He was quiet for a moment, having you shift from the tension thinking he was going to make a remark. The room was suddenly filled with a soft chuckle, just as he did when you two had met. Piquing your curiosity, you lifted your head towards him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Those words are foreign to me: I was right,” He mentioned stirring the contents in the pan he was cooking with, “More often than not I am in the wrong. It’s…nice to hear that for a change.”

“Were you always told that back in your clan?” You got up slowly to approach him, letting him speak on his own accord.

“Most of the time, mainly from my brother of all people. He always told me how I will never live up to the clan if my heart grew as soft as humans. That’s why he wanted me to stay away from them.” He told you, having you fiddle with your hoodie strings for a moment.

“You told me you don’t trust humans, yet you always observed them and wanted to be near them. Why was that?” A sizzle from the pan was heard as he added another ingredient.

“I was trained to protect the clan from humans. Understanding their intentions and learning about their nature,” He explained while focusing on his task, “But when I observed them overtime, I discovered they weren’t all as destructive or careless as my Father told us. Some carried kind hearts and humble souls. Some more naïve than others, but they weren’t all as bad as it seemed. However, despite the grey area, I would not dare to expose myself to just anyone. If mortals discovered our existence, or rather those with cold hearts, will seek to destroy us however they can.”

“Yet, you exposed yourself to me.” You reminded him of the previous topic. Stilling his movements once your were just behind him. You watched the tension in his shoulders return in his form.

“I was injured and weak at the time. Perhaps a part of me was desperate for anyone to help. Or maybe you were desperate enough to want to find me.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You told me when you moved here, you were all alone. No friends or family whatsoever. Maybe a part of you looked for that when you were alone in the park.” Looking down to the ground, you felt the truth in those words more than ever. All you wanted was someone to be around, even if it meant that it was a demon.

“What would you do, once your debt was repaid?” You asked. A question that stung your heart but long awaited an answer. You always wondered on the after thought, and you were certain he thought the same. Would he leave you? Find somewhere else to hide? Go find someone better than you?

“I don’t know,” Surprised by his answer, you looked up to watch that he left the pan to simmer. Looking down at you with that same expressionless mask, “I hadn’t thought that far into the future. Rest assured I am in no rush to fulfill it, but only you will make the call on whether or not the contract is complete. If it means me protecting you from any untrustworthy mortals, or if you wish for me to give you your space, I will grant it.”

“Would…” You swallowed thickly, unable to look at him in the eyes on what you were going to ask, “would you leave, when it was done?”

You didn’t know when you were shaking, or when the tears decided to sting your eyes. But you couldn’t imagine what your life would be like if he was gone. Back to your lonely life in the city with no one to talk to or to make your smile. You didn’t want that, you REFUSED to go back to that. Even if it meant keeping him indebt until you die. But you didn’t want to conceal his freedom. Finding your head suddenly tilted up to look at him, you couldn’t hide your tears away when he looked down at you. What did he think of you now? Refraining from sobbing, you felt a sense of ease when he brushed away your tears. Finding him lingering just closer your face than before.

“Only if you tell me to,” He assured you, stroking his thumb against your cheek, a soft gesture he had never presented before, “To be honest, I’ve grown accustomed to living here. Despite how grotesque the smell is, you seem to bring a rather, comforting presence here.”

“If…if my debt was, having you be here with me…would you fulfill that?” Blinking up at him, unsure of what he would say to that. To be tied to a human who had grown fond of him these past few months.

What was little time to him was an eternity to you. Suddenly, you felt a gentle shift of something brush against your skin. Blinking through your blurry tears, you found that for the first time, he had removed his mask. A pale skin littered in burns and scars you remembered from when you two first met, surrounding a set of rather gentle looking brown eyes. A surprising gaze you couldn’t have imagined Genji to bestow. He tilted your cheeks more before leaning closer to you, lips just barely touching each other.

“I would gladly do that, [Name].” He whispered ever so softly, planting an ever so surprising kiss upon your lips. A kiss you only imagined in your dreams, was happening right now as you leaned into his touch.

To be continued

#Overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch scenarios #overwatch imagines #overwatch au #genji #genji x reader #genji shimada x reader #genji shimada #only a Shimada can control these tags #Oni Genji

134 notes · View notes