#like instead of the little cry session I had I would’ve started literally sobbing

[diazpoems]

Just speed read a Vampire AU fic that was actually good and ended in the couple getting married but also showed one person, the mortal, growing old and dying while the vampire stayed alive and the vampire partner mourning him after his death and all the years came flooding back to him at once and now I’m listening to El Triste by José José and crying what the fuck lol

[yoshkeii]

"𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑"

࿐ character(s): Ushijima Wakatoshi, Daichi Sawamura, Kuroo Tetsurou

࿐ genre: sfw, soft/fluff, comfort, tiny angst if you squint

࿐ type: headcanons (hcs)? / imagine

࿐ requested by: @dumpsterfireinc 

⌦  shymale!reader (he/him)

⌦ ‘if I can request comfort hcs for Ushijima, Daichi, Kuroo, and Oikawa who have a crush on as shy male!reader who thinks the boys should be with a girl and not him.’

A/N: i had to drop oikawa on this one since i cant seem to get his personality out?? i- uh-. i apologize- also my way of writing hcs is weird? idk why i like writing like that, but eventually they’ll shift- somehow- (i’ll probably make a proper hcs post if you want-)

1-16-2021: sorry in advanced if this took waaay to long. im doubting my writings. kinda shit but im just burnt out.

𝚄𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚊:

❀ Ushijima had a crush on you. of course he would, someone so soft, gentle, and shy. he actually found it cute you having those aspects. even though not a lot of people would enjoy such an introverted person at times.

❀ being shy would fit well together with his own personality generally. like being stoic and quiet himself. at some points he genuinely thought you and him were perfect. just two puzzle pieces that could fit together.

❀ he doesn’t know when he had a crush on you till Tendou or someone would bring it up. cause he always somehow had his eyes on you in the halls, classes, etc. 

❀ adding on to his personality, he is very blunt and straightforward with his words. and when you heard those three words from the intimidating captain. made your heart skip a beat, muscles tense, and mind race.

❀ “..y-you.. like me??” the softened tone in your voice echoed within the empty afterschool halls.

❀ “Yes. I just stated that.”

❀ “..I heard you.. you dummy..” you muttered the last words softly. fiddling with your fingers nervously, he always found you fidgeting with something whenever you were nervous or put on the spot. your gaze kept low.

❀ the silence only just settled. making Ushijima await another word from your smaller figure.

❀ but he didn’t expect those words to slip out of your mouth. he never did.

❀ “Why.. Why would you want to be with me.. instead.” your voice still kept your softened tone, but it had a faint hint of sadness. the slight wavering of your voice gave way.

❀ “..isn’t it better to be.. with a girl instead? t-they’re better options. pretty. talented. i-i don’t.. have any of those.”

❀ Ushijima just stared, unsure on what to do. no one told him this would be a scenario or a possibility. thought it was simply just a yes or no to a confession, something quick.

❀ “You also won’t l-look.. weird.. o-odd.. with-” your voice cracked, tears gathered in your eyes. quickly wiping them away with a sniff.

❀ “F-fuck I’m sorry.. for c-crying..” softly cursing as you nervously laughed.

❀ “y/n,” Ushijima lifted your head gently with his hand making sure your eyes looked up at him, “..I don’t care, if people will look at us weirdly. I don’t care if they all knew or not.”

❀ he wiped the tears dripping from your eyes as you stared at him with disbelief.

❀ “I like you. No- I love you. That’s that. I love y/n, and nothing will stop that.”

❀ shortly, tears poured from your eyes from his words. softly murmuring apologizes for crying over this accompanied w/ a smile on your face. Ushijima just wiping your tears away for you, seeing how your face just melts in his hand in comfort. regaining composure after a couple of reassurances from him.

❀ “I-I.. I love you.. t-too.. Wakatoshi..” 

𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒:

❀ mans had a big crush on you ever since you both had multiple shared classes. especially same homeroom.

❀ Daichi and you had an decent relationship, it wasn’t as close like he has with Sugawara or Asahi. having the same homeroom, he always found you alone and minding your own business a desk or two behind him in the back.

❀ sometimes exchanging the simple hellos and small talk whenever Suga and/or Asahi dared him to. knowing how his eyes occasionally drifts towards your direction of the room.

❀ for someone so quiet.. he didn’t know it could be a cute feature. an adorable one if he would say so himself. just seems too s o f t .

❀ your gentle voice always made his heart skip a beat, it was so calming. a remedy to his ears. after a few small talks and interactions, you both managed to hang out a little more often. being invited on study dates sessions since you were also pretty smart in the academics (brownie points!) 

❀ as of right now, his eyes were simply glued on you. just watching you talk about whatever subject. he really wasn’t paying attention... or at all. admiring your features from across the small table on the floor that was littered with notebooks, textbooks, papers and pens.

❀ he knew you were shy so he often kept things low and safe for you whenever you both hung out once in awhile. sometimes exchanging little sticky notes with each other to limit talking.

❀ once he confessed to you, through the last sticky note of his. not a manly way to really confess but he couldn’t figure anything else out for you. didnt want to scare you away.

❀ you stared up at the captain in slight doubt, going back to the note to reread the words written. ‘would you like to go out with me?’ tiny hearts here and there on the note.

❀ looking back up at him, you noticed the slight blush across his face. you realized he was serious.

❀ “..why would you want to go out with me?” your grip on the note slightly tightened, as thoughts began to flood your mind. “wouldn’t it be better- be better with a girl?? a-and.. not me.” you began to slip on your words, gaze slipping down to avoid his eyes as you noticed him looking up at you now.

❀ “..with.. a girl?” Daichi mustered out.

❀ “or.. anyone but... me. I’m not.. popular. I’m not.. p-pretty, c-cute.. handsome.. s-smart either...”  you began to ramble, negative thoughts after another.

❀ “H-hey y/n. y/n..!” Daichi was closer to you now, his hands on your shoulders hoping to get you out of your negative trance.

❀ it successfully worked, making you stop but your gaze still remain low. hearing a sigh from Daichi made you tensed, you liked him too. you loved him. but you don’t know if it was best for him to date you. or be in a relationship in that matter.

❀ Daichi wrapped his arms around you, “Don’t be so harsh to yourself. I denied most of the confessions... j-just.. to ask you out one day you know. I’m confident I want you more than any girl.” he muttered.

❀ noticing you relaxing in his arms made him slightly smile, feeling you hug back. your hands grasping the back of his gakuran, mustering the urge to cry you hid your face on his shoulders. eventually muffling out your soft sobs and various ‘i love you too’

𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘:

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.

❀ it was obvious Kuroo was crushing on someone. and that someone was you. being one of the assistances, or at this point the team would’ve eventually called you their manager. often there to aid and help whenever needed so you stumbled by the gym many times to either drop something off for one of the members or coaches.

❀ always teasing and flirting with you, which wasn’t such an out-of-character of him. knowing him to be the master of provocation. but often when you weren’t there, he would start talking about you. unconsciously sometimes.

❀ which gave a big sign of his feelings, especially through Kenma. it wasn’t so hard to see, but you were dense and oblivious over it.

❀ he knew you liked him back eventually, seeing how you haven’t turned him down with any of his teases accompanied with the slight blush on your face each time. you were just too shy to say anything about it.

❀ he was aware that you were very shy and introverted. always seeing you staying back or infront of crowds in the hallway and avoided them at all costs. being observant he took note of it.

❀ always managing to catch you away from people or just a little people in the area, he used that time to talk to you more privately.

❀ you both began to get to know each other pretty well each time.

❀ exchanging interests and moments you’ve had in your life. often making you giggle at his silly retorts and remarks, funny moments of his teams and others. he was genuinely seeing a new side of you.

❀ never really seeing you smile brightly and laugh without holding back. it felt surreal and a literal dream.

❀ “Hey, y/n, have you dated anyone yet?” Kuroo looked over at you, eyes staring in curiosity with his common sly smirk.

❀ “I-.. uhh.. n-not yet?” you nervously laughed, messing with the sleeve of your nekoma track jacket.

❀ “Well then.. do you have a crush?” he continued on. 

❀ “O-oh.. Ye-yeah! He probably won’t like me b-back though..” you murmured.

❀ “Wait- He!?”

❀ “H-hey,, Kuroo! Keep y-your voice down please..!!” you playfully punched his shoulder in return he faked an ‘ow’ “..b-but.. yes.. i like a guy.. h-he’s popular so i doubt he would like me b-back.” you looked up at him with a weak smile, hoping to not seemed phased by it.

❀ “Ahhh.. why’s that then.” his curious tone turned stern, tilting his head into his palm so it rested comfortably. “hmmm~?”

❀ “Oh.. w-well.. he’s popular with the girls.. a lot of them a-actually. I bet he l-likes them more than me.. girls are b-better for him anyways...”

❀ “What if they weren’t? He could be gay.. or bisexual... or pan and all that jazz y’know y/n?”

❀ “Thats true.. what about you kuroo-san?” you took a sip of water from your bottle aside of your thigh. 

❀ “I have a crush too of course. And its actually you.”

❀ you choked on the water, coughing out a reply, “w-wait you.. you like me.. me- back?!” you only looked at him with disbelief, coughing slightly still.

❀ Kuroo only laughed at your off-guard reaction, “K-kuroo!! I-it’s not funnyyy..!” you whined, covering your face with your jacket. “hhhh.. g-god damnit..”

❀ after a few moments it went silently, peeking your eyes out from your hidden position Kuroo pecked your forehead. Suddenly aside of you, entwining his hand with yours.

❀ “Of course I like you back~ I want you to be my boyfriend you softie.” 

[jpegjade]

Purple Scarf Problems - Spencer

WE HAVE THIS WEEK’S FIC! me and @goldentournesol​ were literally screaming to each other about this idea and i wrote it instead of studying for my business law class. i have the next story drawn up already!! 

synopsis: what happens when a purple scarf goes through it’s own trasformation?

warnings: none. it’s literally just fluff. 

__________

“Baby, you’re hogging the scarf.” You said, tugging the scarf in your direction a little bit more. 

“Okay, okay.” Spencer chuckled as he loosened the scarf from around his own neck to give it more slack for you. 

Spencer’s favorite purple scarf was so incredibly long that it’s able to look big on Spencer, as tall as he is. It was a cold and chilly day, the breeze very strong, and both you and Spencer were supposed to take the day off. It was relaxing to go into the park and take a walk with your boyfriend without the fear of something interrupting the two of you. Sure, Spencer still needed to grade papers from his last class session but he was more than happy to spend a day off with you. 

“I think we should go for a snack somewhere. Maybe at the coffee shop you love?” Spencer asked, shuffling forward a little. 

Since the scarf was wrapped around the two of you, he couldn’t walk as quickly as he normally would. He had to shuffle while you walked normally since your legs were shorter than his. 

A beautiful day outside, you and Spencer were overjoyed when you both had the day to yourselves. You were going to go to the library and check out some books but Spencer offered to walk the city with you when you woke up that morning. You knew the offer wasn’t because he wanted you to get some exercise, it was really because he wanted a reason to wear his purple scarf around since the chilly, fall air was moving in. He loved that purple thing almost as much as he loved you, no matter how much he tried to deny it. You knew better.  

Pushing open the door to the coffee shop, the long scarf around the two of you, you took in the smell of coffee grinds, the sight of the people working and conversing, and the sounds of the busy shop. It reminded you of the work you needed to get done when you got back home but what you needed right now was time with your boyfriend. You missed him so much lately that it was weird not to miss him when he was standing next to you. 

“Know what you want to drink?” Spencer asked, shuffling into the door. 

You were following him closely, trying to squeeze into the doorway when you felt something tug at you. Glancing around, you didn’t see anyone around you so you walked forward and felt more resistance. You tried one more time and finally broke free, much to Spencer’s horror. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” You asked, looking at Spencer’s paler than usual face. 

His expression was more along the lines of heartbreak and shock than it was fear so you turned to see what happened. When your brain put it together, your heart broke just as much. 

Spencer loved that longass purple scarf with all of his heart. It used to be his mom’s scarf but he started wearing it when he was in college to remind himself of what he was fighting for. You hated how long it was on him but you didn’t mind the scarf. 

You turned back to Spencer with tears flooding your eyes. 

“I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to.” You whispered. 

The scarf caught on a nail when the two of you were squeezing through the door. The resistance you felt wasn’t a person, it was the scarf being caught, pulling you back as it ripped. You knew how much the scarf meant to him and now that it was basically ruined, you felt responsible. 

Your eyes stayed on Spencer, who walked over to detached the scarf’s thread from the wall. He was quiet as he turned towards you again. He slowly unwrapped the scarf from around you then himself before he rolled it up and put it in his coat pocket. Wordlessly, he pulled you into a hug and wrapped his arms around you. 

“It’s okay.” He said, almost whispering back to you. 

His voice didn’t crack. He wasn’t angry in the least bit. He wasn’t disappointed in you. What was he? This was his favorite scarf. This was the closest he could get to his mother sometimes. This was something that kept him grounded. And you just ruined it. 

The two of you walked up to the counter, got your coffee and left in silence. The entire walk back to the apartment, Spencer kept his arm around your shoulders, occasionally squeezing you gently to reassure you that things were okay but you were still so broken up about what happened. If things were okay, he would’ve said something, right? 

Pushing open the door to the apartment, you walked through with your head hung low, shrugging Spencer's arm from your shoulders. You didn’t want to feel like you were okay when you weren’t. You ruined his favorite thing that reminds him of his mom. He probably hates you for it. 

“It’s not your fault, y/n.” Spencer said, following behind you. He basically read your mind sometimes but this wasn’t that hard to read. 

“Yes, it is my fault.” You said, a fresh set of tears coming to your eyes. You were slowly making your way to the bedroom. 

“You didn’t know the nail was there. You didn’t intentionally do this to hurt me.” Spencer said, following closely behind you. You heard the concern in his voice, something your voice should be filled with but you were just full of anger. 

“You didn’t know the nail was there.” Spencer said, walking over to his side of the bed while you climbed into yours. 

The sun was still high in the sky but you just wanted to get into bed and curl up for a while. What you needed was to curl up into Spencer and cry it out. You were the reason that his heart broke so silently back at the coffee shop. You couldn’t fix this so easily. 

“I have to fix it. I’ll make it up to you.” You told Spencer, curling into yourself on your side of the bed, back facing Spencer. 

“There’s nothing to make up to me. It’s just a scarf.” Spencer said, followed by a yawn. 

“It’s your mom’s scarf. Your mom’s friend made it for her when she was pregnant with you, long enough to keep the two of you warm. You love that scarf and I ruined it. I ruined something that keeps you together better than I ever could some days.” A sob caught in your throat. 

“Love, come here.” Spencer gently wrapped his arm around your waist, nuzzling himself into your back. 

“You are being way too nice, Spencer.” You were so disappointed in yourself, knowing you couldn’t fix it. 

“I know you’re going to blame yourself for this but you didn’t do this on purpose. It was a freak incident. I wish I had a statistic for you regarding the probability that something like this would happen but that’s incredibly specific to know. Although, I have more specific facts for you…” Spencer nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders release. 

Heaving a big sigh, you stayed quiet. Soon, a single moment turned into minutes and Spencer’s breathing turned heavy. His grip around your waist slackened and you knew he was sleeping. 

You knew you had to do something about the heavy feeling in your stomach but you didn’t know what. So you carefully slipped from under Spencer’s arm, replacing your body with a pillow. You watched him grin in his sleep as he cuddle up to the pillow. You felt a sadness in your heart remind you that you needed to fix what happened somehow. Anything was better than nothing. Pacing the living room for a couple minutes, racking your brain for answers, you got a single idea. 

Grabbing your phone, basic emergency sewing kit, and the scarf out of Spencer’s coat pocket on the couch, you got to work sitting on the living room floor. Taking your scissors, you started snipping the end of the scarf where the nail got caught. It seemed to go on forever, more of the thread coming loose as you worked on it, fabric everywhere. The video wasn’t as helpful as you thought it would be but it worked well enough. You had to modify some of the instructions through some trial and error but by the time you were done, you were positive that everything was going to be okay again. 

Spencer slowly woke up, noticing that you were smaller than normal. His eyes felt so heavy but he knew he needed to get up and see if you were feeling any better. 

“Love?” Spencer said, opening his eyes more. 

He noticed you weren’t there anymore. A pillow was in his arms instead of you and that worried him. It was rare that he woke up from a nap and you weren’t there, especially since today was your off day. He rolled out of bed, looking for you outside of the bedroom but you were nowhere to be found. 

“Where’s my phone…” He said, walking to the kitchen for a snack. 

Grabbing a pack of scooby doo snacks, he poured all of the snacks in his hand and threw away the wrapper. He noticed something that caught his eye in the trash: a heap of purple fabric. 

His mouth dropped open, his brain unsure how to process what he was seeing. You threw away his scarf… You were the same person who was broken up about how much the scarf meant to him and you just threw it away the first chance you got. Spencer couldn’t believe it as tears came to his eyes. He couldn’t believe this at all. His emotions were colliding at this simple action and he didn’t really know what to think.

Spencer felt a couple tears roll onto his cheeks when he heard the door unlocking. Quickly wiping his tears, he turned towards the door, fruit snacks in hand. 

You pushed the door open carefully, hoping not to wake Spencer. You also didn’t want to tip the coffee over from the drink tray in your hands. Almost there…

“Oh my god.” Spencer expelled all the breath in his lungs as he saw the only thing that mattered. 

Rushing over to you, taking you by surprise, he lifted the scarf from your shoulders and brought it to his cheek. He gently rubbed the soft fabric on the side of his face, a smile slowly appearing. 

“I missed you so much.” Spencer muttered to the scarf. 

“Love you too, babe.” You chuckled, bringing the coffee to the table. 

Judging by his reaction to the new and adjusted scarf, he was more than excited about what you had done. He held the scarf out in front of him before wrapping it around his neck and frowning. 

“You did this?” Spencer said, his hands fiddling with the ends of the scarf. 

“Yeah… Spencer, I’m so sorry. I tried so hard to fix what I had done and I mean it’s a normal scarf now, just long enough for one person but...” You looked at your feet. 

You didn’t see Spencer coming as he enveloped you in a warm, tight hug. 

“Thank you, y/n.” Spencer mumbled. “Thank you. I love it.”

Your heart swelled. You knew he was saddened but he cared so much about you that he didn’t let it show too much. Now that he could let it out, you felt so much better about the whole situation.

[hwanduu]

uncertainty with no answers.

tw: anxiety attack, slight self harm.  continuation from this.

“ryujin-ssi?”

the faint voice managed to echo throughout the big space office of her therapist to which finally catching the dark haired lady’s attention after 5 minutes of abrupt silence. it had been a day since the incident happened and knowing how she would’ve reacted, ryujin called her therapist herself to schedule an appointment as fast as she could. she was correct at least – mind wandering elsewhere but not literally anywhere either, she couldn’t afford to focus on her therapist’s words and what the woman in her early 40s was trying to say to her.

‘ah right, what happened to my hand...’ she reminded herself in her head, eyes now blinking once and twice to find words to explain her situation before her gaze dropped down on her now bandaged palm. ryujin knew exactly what happened but to say it herself? perhaps she wasn’t sure how to word it out knowing that the person she was disappointed in the most currently was herself. she made so much progress in the past years so why now?

teeth now sinking onto her lower lip, her right fingers started to fidget against each other as if she was trying to hide the injury once she realized that the bandage was now serving her as a memento of what had happened. she knew herself that she wasn’t fully recovered when the incident that happened in busan actually affected her a lot more than she thought it would. it was a funny incident (or ryujin wanted to think of it as funny instead) since bar fights weren't something that was new to her but even after her friend, seth had apologized for so many times for hitting her accidentally that night, the anxiousness didn’t die down. what made it worse was the time he had to witness her breaking down several times after that and how she looked lifeless even when they were supposed to have a fun time. ryujin knew she had nothing to be apologetic about but she still felt bad that he had to see her in that state. of course the two friends did bonded more after what had happened since they had a heart to heart talk during the fancy dinner he brought her, it was still hard for ryujin to accept that something so small could affect her to that extent.

“i hurt myself,” she said softly, eyes still not leaving her hand as she was trying to hold back her tears. “i was, uhm, having a breakdown at that time but i was still working on my sculpture. i guess i wasn’t mentally stable enough to be doing so but i did. there were a lot of, you know, ceramic and glasses items in my studio and a few of them broke while i was trying to compose myself since i think i was going through a relapse – a lot of things were coming back and i couldn’t breathe so when i noticed that i also dropped them by mistake, i freaked out more because those were precious items hence why i.. i picked them without much thought. i wanted to save what i still could… i guess i lose control. i went hysterical because i thought i could at least fix or keep or do one thing right when everything else is out of my reach.”

even though what she just said just now was something so bizarre, what came out of her was a small laugh instead followed by a few shaky breaths. ryujin wanted to cover even when she didn’t have to especially when she’s in front of her therapist but her habit of not wanting to cry in front of others was too deep to her disliking that she still wasn’t able to fix it. despite trying to hold herself together, the demeanor broke when a few strings of tears fell down her cheeks – slowly at first, one after another. it didn’t last long unfortunately as the vulnerable state of her took over quickly as if a switch just turned on and ryujin found herself sobbing, now breaking the silence in the once quiet office.

the rest of the therapy session after her crying moment was helpful for her at least. the dark haired artist knew she needed to be there as she couldn’t even bring herself to tell anyone about what happened. not even when her roommate reacted so strongly due to being worried after ryujin walked home with her right hand wrapped up, not even when some was asking her if she was okay when she appeared to space out a lot more during the past few hours. the same thing happened after the trip from busan too and ryujin knew why she couldn’t tell anyone about it. 

she felt ashamed. she felt ashamed that she let her past define her present even after three years since her last relationship took place. ryujin hated the most when she found out her current actions were the results of what had happened. even with how many times she attended therapy, it felt like a dead end and there was no way out even after all this growth she did. of course, she knew that patience played a big part in recovering but she didn’t like how the people she dated still affected her till this day. even when they’re not a part of her world anymore, even when she doesn't remember the exact things that took place either, ryujin knew that they left a lot of wounds for her to fix alone. it was visible with how she reacted to several situations that were associated with things that happened before no matter how big or small and she felt disgusted every time it took place. 

with each therapy session, her therapist, dr. nam, would often ask her this one particular set of questions before wrapping it up. the question that ryujin usually felt dreadful to answer was, “so how do you move from here? what’s next for you?” 

she wasn’t able to answer the question today. ryujin didn’t know what dr. nam wanted her to say nor did she have an answer for herself too. now staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, the question ended up being pondered about more once she calmed down and her rationality came back. perhaps the answer to the question for now would be to just live and hold on. holding onto what exactly? she wasn’t sure either. 

it’s easier to say to not give up than having to fight with the pain there, reminding you of its existence once in a while. hence why ryujin didn’t know what to say at first. dreams and hopeful words seemed to be like empty promises and too much of a goal when it had always been hard for her to just accept who she was as a person. it felt like a chore and she didn’t want people to have an expectation that she can do better either. what if this is all she’ll be? what if this is the end? is it still not enough for her to be receiving love? in the end, she concluded that maybe all she needed currently was to trust. if she wasn’t able to trust others, at least she could start little by trusting herself instead. 

‘i can trust myself that i’ll be fine at least. so let’s trust that?’ she thought alone as she held herself together with her own arms, patting her shoulder gently as a sign of comforting herself for what she went through in the last few days. ryujin wasn’t sure where she’s heading to but for now, she had scheduled a dinner with someone and wanted to make sure her guest felt comfortable having her around so she needed to put herself together.

‘let's try this one more time. if it feels too much, just one more time.’ 

and she will try again. and again always. repeating the same process until she finally finds a way out somehow somewhat amidst her own battles with herself. someday she will prove herself wrong. someday there will be a way out. but today was not the day and ryujin had accepted that. 

‘maybe someday,’ she repeated to herself again and again. 

indeed maybe someday.

[bangtancentricsblog]

Love?

❒ pairing: min yoongi x reader 

❒ genre: fluff, smut, humor, slight angst

❒ alternative universe: college/university

❒ word count: 3,332

warnings: mentions of therapy, slight smut (oral f receiving), dirty talk, drug use (weed), awkward encounters, lots of kissing

(•••) - is yoongi reminiscing/flashbacks

this is final part of Sweetpea, thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed the story! i was so nervous when i started posting on tumblr because its a tough audience and i wasn’t even sure if my works would be good enough so i really do mean it when i say thank you! Special thanks to my always supportive and amazing wife @boymeetsweevil for always helping me out, offering support, or even just listening to me ramble my ideas at her in our chats. I’ll always be grateful for! 💜💖

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There’s a chill to the air, a sign that the fall has truly begun to settle in, the leaves are starting to change too. The once vibrant shades of emerald have now turned marigold, chestnut or vermillion, and change is good. The quad is relatively empty despite the school year having come back in full swing once the summer ended. Yoongi is enjoying the soft warmth of the sun on his skin before his next class. There’s an occasional student hauling ass across campus to make their lecture on time, everything has seemingly gone back to normal, and it’s so utterly boring. He’s sighing heavily, tired but mostly because he misses you.

•••

After things had settled with Jb, the two of you had finally sat down to talk. Talked about where you wanted this to go, this thing that had bloomed between the two of you when it had been nothing but sex to begin with. You’d been the one to take his hands, twined your fingers and said you wanted to be with him. The smile so wide, so bright it made his heart flutter, he’d squeezed your fingers a grin kissing his lips as he pressed his forehead to yours. A giggle has slipped past your lips the sound filling his ears and filling his being with pure joy, pure love.

It’d gotten a little heated afterwards, you’d been quick to smack your lips against his, teeth clacking together painfully. It was hard presses of your lips, an awkward scrape of teeth with too much tongue, so very reminiscent of his first time playing seven minutes in heaven with a girl a few years older than him in middle school. Except this one was sweet, more passionate and not at all something he wished he could forget. He’d been quick to stop you though when he’d felt the brush of your hand a little too close to his more than eager dick. He’d apologize to his dick later but right now you two still had things to discuss.

“What’s wrong?” you’d asked looking unsure of yourself again.

“We’re not done talking yet.” He says thumbing at the swell of your cheek, he watches you shift closer to him, climbing into his lap pressing every bit of your body as close to him as possible.

“okay, what else is there?”

“I think you should talk to Jimin about what happened, what you’ve been through.”

“No.” you say voice firm.

“He needs to know, I can't imagine what he would’ve felt if you’d gone through with it.” He says softly, moving to cup your cheeks, there’s a shine to your eyes, tears that have begun to blur your vision.

“What if he hates me?” you hiccup, tears finally falling but yoongi is quick to wipe them away.

“He won’t, he loves you too much.” He breathes with a small smile kissing your cheeks, your nose, and your lips. He presses so many kisses to your face, you’re no longer crying when he finally pulls away.

It takes a full week before you work up the courage to tell Jimin, Yoongi’s there for support. The two of you are seated opposite Jimin, Yoongi holds your hand tight in his, silently sitting through you recount your past pain to your brother. He can see the pain etched into Jimin’s face as you bring up all that had transpired. Feels his heart break a little when Jimin starts sobbing, you move to hold him, a hand running through his hair the other rubbing over his back. By the time you’ve finished both of you are crying, even Yoongi had teared up a little at the reminder but he tries to stay strong if not for himself for the two of you. Jimin is the one who convinces you to seek therapy, cries through trying to get you to agree.

“Please, for me. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He pleads, voice broken. Yoongi meets your gaze briefly nodding his head in agreement with Jimin. When the tears have subsided Jimin is quick to turn his gaze to Yoongi, his eyes are red rimmed and swelling but still hold the effect of an older brother trying to intimidate their sister's boyfriend.

“So why are you here?” Jimin spits rubbing at his runny nose.

“Yoongi, convinced me to tell you.” You mutter, playing with your fingers before hesitantly glancing over at Yoongi.

“But why is he here?” he asks again.

“He’s my boyfriend.” You answer, mouth twitching in an effort to keep a smile at bay. It doesn’t work because Yoongi is smiling at you, all teeth a hint of gums peeking out.

“Well, I’m happy for you.” Jimin says sincerely that you and Yoongi nearly get whiplash from how fast you whip your heads to face him.

“What do you mean you’re happy?” Yoongi blurts, eyes narrowed. This has got to be some sort of trap.

“Just that, I’m happy that the two of you finally figured your shit out. _____, had her flaws so I know she’ll be a handful but I know you’ll take good care of her.” Jimin says to Yoongi a smile lifting the corners of his lips as he leans back on the couch arms spread across the back.

“Thanks.” Yoongi says a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Don’t sweat it, and if you hurt her I’ll kick your ass like I did the last time.” He says all smug his lips splitting into a smirk.

“It’d be a different story had I fought back.” Yoongi spits eyes narrowed at the younger boy.

“Sure, you could’ve but I’m pretty sure the outcome would’ve been the same.” Jimin sniffs rubbing a finger under his nose. Yoongi’s brow twitches, as he runs his palms against his jeans.

“Let’s go with that.” Yoongi says, after noting the small look you shot his way.

It’s a few days later that you tell Yoongi that you’ve found a therapist. He’s glad you’re seeking help, and wishes you a safe trip when you inform him that it’s closer to your school a couple hours away. He doesn’t expect you to call him down to the lobby of his apartment complex, doesn’t expect you to shove him against the brick building once he’s come out. You’re on your tiptoes, hands buried in his hair as you kiss him. Your tongue swipes over his lips quickly caressing his as he kisses you back. Your eyes are closed as you take your time really kissing him, tasting him. Yoongi can see Jimin seated in his car a few feet away, watching with a disgusted expression and Yoongi can’t help himself. 

He grabs a handful of your ass in one hand and tangles the other in your hair, his gaze still trained on Jimin. He pulls you in closer with the hand gripping your ass cheek a small moan sliding out your mouth into his. Jimin’s honking, loud and long yelling from his seat, breaking the kiss as Yoongi smirks at the younger boy. He chuckles planting another small kiss to your lips and for effect smacks your ass as you walk away. The glare Jimin sends him has Yoongi cackling. 

•••

That had been back in August, it's now nearing November, and he remembers the summer like it was yesterday. 

•••

He spent the time you weren’t in therapy taking you on dates, to the movie theater, the beach, anywhere really. It’d been the first time he’d gone on a date since he’d been forced into being a wingman for Namjoon back in high school, but this was admittedly way better because it’d been with you. It had all been easy and for Yoongi nothing had ever been easy, especially not love. There’d been stolen kisses at parties, the tangle of your fingers in his hair, and soft whispered conversations in his bed late at night. The easiness of the whole dating thing was weird and at the same time comforting. It had made his heart feel full, his cheeks heating from the loving look you would give him while kissing his nose, or his lips. 

There’d been no sex, something that your therapist had reccommended so that you wouldn’t fall into a similar situation. Yoongi didn’t mind, especially when he could still see you, could still feel your smile pressed against the skin of his neck whenever you’d come back from a session, wrapped up in his arms. Jimin had been nice about the whole thing, the worst had been the disgust that etched a scowl into his features whenever the two were in the same vicinity. It was funny really, to see the soft baby face that was Park Jimin purposely seating himself between the two whenever there was a small group outing. 

He remembers your laugh, the way you’d gotten brighter than he could’ve imagined. The way you literally lit up a room, and the ease in which you had started doing things. Something had changed in you and he liked it, liked you, had made it his goal to remind you just how much. It was fun, more fun than he’d had in a long time and then summer came to an end, he’d been sad to see you go. Had offered to drive you home instead of hanging back while Jimin drove you back, it was funny to him. Funny because he never imagined being able to feel so much in so little time for someone he’d barely known, and now loved more than anything. There were wet kisses the taste of your tears on his tongue as he kissed you. Hiccups slid past your lips as you wrapped your arms around his frame, your face pressed to his chest, he’d held you tight whispering reassurances into your hair. 

Your soft cries settled as he caressed your cheeks gently shifting your gaze up to meet his, he’d pressed his forehead to yours a grin kissing his lips as he stared deep into your eyes. Reminding you that he was only a phone call away, and that just because the summer was over didn't mean the end for you too. He felt your giggle more than heard it as you’d pressed your lips to his, standing on your tiptoes, to deepen the kiss. And just like that you had been reassured that this was real and he wasn’t ready to let you go, not now, not ever. He’d watched you make your way into your building, smiling happily at him while he drove away. It wasn’t until he got home that he really felt your absence, felt his heart ache the slightest because he already missed you. 

Namjoon was home for the first time in what seemed like all summer, his eyes glazed over a roach burning in the ashtray they kept for when they only wanted a quick hit from a fresh joint. He rolled his head to face Yoongi who looked about ready to break down and cry, a soft smile twitching at his lips. 

“It’s not that bad everything will be okay, I’m sure of it.” Namjoon says. 

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi asks a quirk to his brow.

“Who knows, but it felt like the right thing to say.” he laughs before shoving a hand in between the couch cushions. Yoongi watches the boy with mild fascination and confusion as Namjoon pulls a ziplock bag out. He throws it at Yoongi and to his surprise it holds a couple of joints. He eyes them warily because of all his friends Namjoon has yet to stick to one dealer and amongst campus Jungkook has the best stuff. A close second is a boy he knows as Johnny who attends a different school but likes to party across campuses, but Namjoon smokes everything, not just the good stuff. He doesn’t realize he’d wrinkled his nose at the bag until Namjoon scoffs.

“Relax, it's Kook’s. I won't be buying from anyone else anymore, Jackson’s strain fucked me up pretty bad and not in a good way.” He offers with narrowed eyes as if momentarily reliving the incident. Yoongi is quick to open the bag, snatching two joints and then throwing the bag back at his friend. 

“Thanks.” he says shuffling down the hallway to his bedroom. 

•••

He sighs heavily, pondering whether he wants to risk trying to get a coffee, his gaze falls to the watch on his wrist, he's still got a half hour before his next class. There’s a strong possibility that the coffee shop is crowded at this time but he could also run with a bit of luck, it is Friday after all. Who doesn’t like a good start to the weekend, he thinks gathering his bag and standing from the bench he’d been seated on. God he misses you, he thinks again as the sun shines down on him, you hadn’t called him in over a week saying you would call him again when things got less hectic. He had no idea what that meant or why you’d sounded so happy to be leaving him alone for so long, but he assumed you had a good reason. The coffee shop isn't too far now, he notices as he walks past the main office, his class isn't too far from the shop either so he should make it on time, but he won't mind if he’s a few minutes late either. 

His phone rings, a tune so upbeat and unique he automatically knows who it is. Still he lets it play because it makes him smile. It's a kpop song by some world wide idols who are singing about not having things like batman but still having enough to want to be someone’s hero. It’s cute he thinks as he stares at your picture before he answers. 

“Hey, sexy.” he hears you say followed by a giggle.

“Hey, to you too.” He says a smile already splitting his lips. 

“I have a surprise for you.” 

“I'm not sure I could handle getting a nude right now.”

“It’s not a nude.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“This time it really isn’t, close your eyes.” you say hurriedly and he frowns.

“Baby, I don't think that works over the phone.”

“Just do it, I’ll know if you cheat.” you laugh and he complies even if he thinks people will give him weird looks. The line has gone silent, and he waits a beat then two, still he hears nothing and he briefly wonders if you’d hung up. He’s about to open up his eyes when he hears it, the small sigh in his ears, followed by a ‘surprise’. His eyes shoot open when he realizes the voice comes from his phone and right in front of him. 

You stand there, a smile lifting the corners of your lips, cheeks rosie from the cool air. He’s quick to throw his arms around your frame pulling you into a hug, his face is buried in the crook of your neck, you laugh pulling him close. He’s quiet as you continue to laugh, telling him how much you missed him, and how hard it was keeping this a secret from him. It's when you’ve stopped talking that you realize how utterly quiet he is. 

“Yoongi?” you say.

“Hmm.” he hums, finally pulling away and cupping both your cheeks.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect.” he says kissing you, it’s soft and sweet so full of love it melts your insides. He takes his time, touching and tasting, wants to reacquaint himself with your lips and your taste that he’s missed so much. 

“Okay enough of that!” Jimin yells, breaking the two of you apart. You’re quick to scowl at your brother, twining your fingers with Yoongi’s. 

“Oh god when will you leave us alone.” you sigh.

“Never, I’m your brother so it’s my job to make sure you don’t get into trouble.” he says with a glare.

“Really?” you ask and you two argue for a bit before Jimin leaves huffing about a class he’s going to be late to if he stays. You’re happy to see him go, yelling at him to have a good time as he flips you the bird. Yoongi watches you fondly, never once asking why you’d suddenly come to visit. Your brow furrows briefly before smoothing out as you inform him that you’d transferred to their school and he breaks out into a smile so wide it's contagious. Your smile mirrors his and he’s quick to kiss you again except you’d wanted more, had sighed your request against his lips and he’d been even quicker to pull you along, all the way back to his apartment. 

The sweater dress you’d been wearing had been pulled over your head the moment you’d tumbled through the door. His hands touched, and his lips tasted reacquainting himself with all that was you. He’d taken his time kissing you, working you up, until he was sure your pussy was more than wet, had watched the way your arousal clung to your panties as he slowly pulled them down your legs. Had you crying for more, as he slowly slid his fingers through your arousal, had let you believe you’d won when he’d laid on his back on the couch and pulled you body until your heat was level with his mouth. 

“So pretty.”

“Pl-please.” you whine.

“You gonna ride my face baby, gonna fuck yourself on my tongue?” he says lapping at your never ending wetness. 

“Yoongi.” 

“Missed your pussy baby, best pussy i’ve ever had. Tastes so sweet.” You whimper thighs shaking as you struggle to keep yourself up instead of just planting your weight on him and taking what you really want. There’s a thin layer of sweat covering your skin, the chill of the room making it that much more colder. A shiver wracks your body and Yoongi pulls you closer to his mouth tongue working over your wetness, swirling around your clit before sliding back down to your entrance where his fingers had taken residence. The slow drag of his fingers are working you up to your orgasm, but you need more. You whine again, a hand leaving the arm of the couch to tangle in his hair, you pull slightly and he groans into your cunt, the sound goes straight to your clit. A moan slides up your throat, out your lips and when you look away from the sight of Yoongi beneath you, you freeze. Your eyes grow wide at the man who stands in the entrance to the living room, he’s looking right at you, but his eyes have this far away look to them.  

“Uh, Yoongi.” You say a little too breathy, as heat rushes to your cheeks when the man narrows his eyes at you.

“Hmm.” he hums, still too engrossed at the task at hand, it takes him a minute to realize you haven’t made a sound. That has him sliding out from underneath you brows furrowed because he was sure you were into it not too long ago.

“You oka-” he starts before he takes note of the way Namjoon stands in the entryway.

“Are you fucking serious?” he spits.

“Hey you’re the one who decided to fuck this Jimin look alike in the living room.” Namjoon says with a shrug before turning on his heel and heading for his original destination. 

“That’s Namjoon?” you ask trying to cover up should the gangly man reappear. 

“Yeah, sorry I didn't know he’d be home.” he says a hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“So how much do you think he saw?”

“Who knows, but I don’t want to find out.” he says, hurriedly gathering your clothes and pulling you in the direction of his bedroom. 

It isn't until later that Yoongi learns that Namjoon had been there too long and proceeds to repeat the things he’d been privy too. 

✧✧✧✧✧

taglist: @bussy-posts, @peachymochimochi, @spiritsrider​

[vannahfanfics]

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!

Rise of the Guardians: Earthsong

Ao3

Chapter 10: One Day

“I meant what I said that night. Always.”

Nathalie swallowed as Jack’s crystal-ice eyes frantically bounded around her face, fearfully looking for any sort of anger or hurt. She would’ve thought that she would be angry at him for delving into her memory without permission, but really, she couldn’t be. Nathalie had purposefully hidden their relationship from him for fear of the ultimate consequences, so in actuality, she deserved the transgression. Whether she liked it or not, Jack deserved to know everything there was to know about the depth of the love between them, and that they were doomed even in their second life. So, no, Nat’s expression was not angry in the slightest… It was just sad— dismally, pitifully, heartbreakingly sad. Jack slowly lowered his staff to the ground, seemingly abandoning his frantic thoughts of running away.

He looked as if he were about to ask her why, but a small realization dawned on his pale features. Of course she didn’t want to discuss it. Nathalie had died a brutal, horrible, unnecessary death. No one would want that memory relived. Yet, that wasn’t the entire story; it was just a piece in the puzzling predicament that existed between the two spirits who couldn’t be closer, but also couldn’t be further apart. The soles of Nat’s feet ground against the rough stone as she approached. With a guilty swallow, Jack’s gaze dropped to the grass he was sitting on. Nathalie said nothing and did nothing, only eased herself down beside him and drew her legs up to her chest to dismally hug her knees.

“Why…?” the word finally breathed past the barrier of his lips, hanging in the air like the precarious ice crystals he formed on the eaves of houses. Nathalie drew in a breath before releasing it in a long, heaving sigh, closing her eyes as she tried to figure out the best way to divulge the entirety of the story.

“The previous Mother Nature told me that you and I would destroy one another, Jack.” She opened her eyes to peer at him sadly. He didn’t look surprised; likely, he had already figured it out himself at this point but had been desperately trying to deny it. “Hold up your hand.” Jack did as bid, and Nathalie pressed her comparably smaller hand against his. Instantly, tendrils of ice began to snake across her palm and around her slender digits, patterns burning patterns across the sensitive skin; likewise, Jack’s snow-white hand began to sweat and burn with pink fever. “We are polar opposites, two sides of a coin that must never face. If the two of us were to linger together for too long, we would forget ourselves and the world’s balance would be disrupted… This is a measure that the Earth and the Man in the Moon set in place in order to remind us of our duty.”

“That’s not fair!” Instead of his hand flying away from hers, he stubbornly pushed her fingers apart to lace them together. Nathalie winced at the burning pain the ice wrought, but at the same time, she dreadfully cherished the feeling of his hand holding hers, so tightly, so insistently, like he was her lifeline. Bitter tears began to bubble up at the brim of her eyes. “It’s not fair,” he repeated softly. The cold was creeping up her wrist now, but Nat be damned if she were going to let go now. “I can’t accept that, Nat, not after knowing it all, seeing—" The words choked in his throat as he clenched his teeth tightly. His gaze dropped down to their linked, ailing hands for a moment before meeting hers, gleaming, like sunlight reflecting on shards of gemstone ice. “There has to be a way.”

Nathalie wanted to believe so, too… But four hundred years of heartache and a millennium more was just too much. With a will hanging on by a thread, she forcibly pried her hand away from Jack’s wrapping it in the fabric of her dress so it could recover from the freezing burns. She turned her head away, but only to spare herself the absolutely devastated look on his face.

“Neither of us may like it, but we cannot change that, Jack. The laws of nature cannot so easily be bent.”

“Well, too bad, ‘cuz I’m gonna bend ‘em.”

Her mouth was open in shock as she looked at him incredulously; did he not know the forces at play? It was not such a simple matter as to declare it, but sure enough, his icy eyes were blazing with the ferocity of a thousand suns as he regarded her intently. “I mean it. I’m gonna find a way for us to be together this time. Don’t give up on me, Nat.” Nathalie’s bottom lip wobbled precariously as an ugly sob threatened to spill out of her from the sheer amount of joy that burst inside of her at that moment. Crying out his name, she launched herself at him not caring of the pain that was to follow; she bowled him over onto his back as she threw her arms around his chest and heaved pitiful sobs into his ice-encrusted hoodie, releasing several lifetimes' worth of pent-up misery and sorrow with every wracking wail.

The numbing chill that spread over her was nothing compared to the wrenching twisting wound that had ailed her for four hundred years. Nathalie for so long had convinced herself that it was never meant to be, that she should never approach him no matter how much she longed to, that it would be the death of them both. All it had taken was that simple declaration to send the castle she had built around her heart to shatter under the force of the bold battering ram, crumbling to pieces around her. As she fractured into pieces on top of him, Jack just whispered soothing words and lightly stroked her cascade of blonde hair, threading it with wires of ice. Though Nathalie longed to cry into him all day until she was spent, she knew neither of them could handle that, and so she settled for a few minutes. She pulled back still sniffling but trying to regain her composure, chips of ice fragmented from her frozen clothes. Jack gave her a wry, rueful smile as he lightly fanned his flushed face. They could talk all they liked about finding a way to coexist in close proximity, but it was clear that it was going to be a massive undertaking. It was then that Baby Tooth came wriggling out of his hoodie pocket, cheeping angrily that she had nearly been crushed under Nat’s weight.

“I’m sorry, Baby Tooth. I didn’t know you were in there,” she apologized with a small giggle. The little bird creature huffed in derision but settled on her shoulder, giving her cheek a reassuring rub with her iridescent feathers. “Thank you. I feel much better now.” It was true. They hadn’t solved their problem in the slightest, but Nathalie felt like a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The grass crunched under Jack’s feet as he sat up, a frown now pervading his features.

“As much as we would like to take care of this now, there’s still Pitch. He’s the number-one priority.”

“Right…” Incredibly, Nathalie had presently forgotten the matter of the dark man, though he had nearly succeeded in killing her only the night before. She compulsively rubbed her hands up her arms and looked down at the flowy fabric of her dress, swallowing. She had definitely underestimated Pitch. If he knew about the Earthsong, there was no telling what else he knew.

“Hey,” Jack said. She felt his fingertips ghost across her cheek, leaving little sparkling ice crystals blooming like geodes on her soft skin, but he pulled away before he damaged her too much. The action accomplished its goal of gaining her attention, however, as her nervous eyes flickered upward to meet his. “Don’t worry. Let’s leave it to North and the others, okay? They’ll find him.” Nat’s pessimistic dark side wanted to argue that Pitch had found her once already and escaped to boot, but the level of confidence in his gentle smile locked it into a little box and tossed the key into the raging sea. “Just… Let’s just stay here and relax, all right?”

It was hard to do considering they burned each other literally every time they touched, but the temptation was still too much for Nathalie. After she nodded, he laid back into the soft springy grass with a smug grin, resting his hands behind his head with just enough room for Nathalie to nestle into the crook of his body without quite touching him. He sure was a sly boy. With a smile bordering between coyness and lasciviousness, Nathalie stretched out onto her side beside him, turning her head to rest just barely at the junction of his arm to his shoulder. Her keen green eyes did not miss the sharp inhale he took as her soft blonde hair brushed up against the sleeve of his hoodie. Though Nat ached to touch him, to flush her body against his and entwine their hands and simply savor his presence, that was a luxury not afford to her. A pauper of a love four hundred years late would have to settle with what she could obtain.

“Hey… Nat?” he asked after an eternity of comfortable silence.

“Mhmm?” Being bathed in the glowing sunlight in the small swathe of land by the rippling pond had lulled Nathalie into drowsiness. Her eyes fluttered away the encroaching sleep to see Jack peering down at her curiously.

“Could you tell me more about the Earthsong?” Ah, of course he would be curious. It wasn’t like she had been given the time to elaborate, slowly turning into a Nat-cicle and all. She shifted her position such that she was lying on her back, one hand held up to tease around her locks of blonde hair while the other was pushed into the soft embrace of the sprigs of grass. Her emerald eyes mirrored the lazy clouds moseying along the sea that was the endless blue sky.

“Well… It is as I said. The Earth speaks in a language long forgotten by men; it has always been so. The Earthsong is ever-present in the world where spring and summer are in session. It is her song that I use to channel her energy and create life. It is not I power I possess inherently,” she explained. “In fall, the plants begin to die, and the animals hibernate and prepare for winter, yes? This is because the Earthsong dwindles. The Earth no longer speaks to that part of the world, to usher in the winter that punishes man for their transgressions.” She lifted her hands to begin kneading them together. “That is why I am much weaker during the fall and completely powerless during winter. If I cannot hear her, I cannot channel her life force. Only upon the renewal of life does she begin to sing once more, and that is when I am able to turn winter into spring.”

“That’s complicated. I just wave the stick and boom!, ice and snow and wind.” His abrupt and simple reply made Nat her give a piggish snort in laughter. He gave her a boorish look at her uncontained amusement, then smiled despite himself. He shifted his position a bit such that he was on his side now, head propped up on an elbow; they had flipped. “Hey, Nat? What happened to your predecessor? I thought if Mother Nature dies, the Tree of Life dies, and no more passage of seasons, right?”

“It is more complicated than that. If Mother Nature bequeaths her powers to another, then her death has no effect on the Tree of Life whatsoever. In regard to the Tree of Life ‘dying,’ perhaps I should have used a better term— the Tree of Life cannot die, truly. It is the Earth’s hand, extending forth to balance the passage of time and evolution. It can be halted by Mother Nature’s untimely death and will wither, but in time it will repair itself. However, that can take centuries in real time. There would be devastating effects on the world as we know it. Even if Pitch took an axe to the tree and hacked it to splinters, in time, it would reform anew.”

“Several hundreds years is plenty of time for Pitch to get up to no good,” Jack grumbled bitterly. His face took on a bright hue as if he had suddenly thought of something brilliant. “Hey, Nat— if you passed on your powers to someone else, we could be together, right?” He blinked at her when she laughed wryly.

“I wish things were that simple. I would revert to an ordinary human or fade from existence, whichever I chose… But I would no longer be immortal. I would grow old, and die, just like everyone else.”

“Oh.”

Nathalie wished against everything that the solution was that easy. One lifetime would be enough for her… But Jack would remain a teenager forever, and she could never ask him to suffer through her death a second time. It would be blissful at first, but Nathalie would not be able to cope with growing older while Jack remained the same, either. His lips poked out as he frowned deeply, wracking his brain for a solution to their present dilemma. Nathalie smiled, just staring as the gears whirled in his white-haired head. He had always been so compassionate and selfless, and it was intriguing to see him riddling out the problem for her sake as much as for the satisfaction of his own selfish ends. While he was preoccupied with his brainstorming, Nathalie boosting herself up onto her arms, face drifting up to press a light, chaste kiss onto his lips. She felt heat blaze across her face as he blushed fiercely, and startled blue eyes stared hard down into her own amused green irises.

“I apologize. You just looked so cu— Oh!” She was interrupted as he skillfully maneuvered himself on top of her, hands planted on either side of her head and knees on either side of her chest, body hovering enough centimeters above her own to prevent any of the ill side effects. His smirk was positively intoxicating. Breathless though she hadn’t even moved, she combed her fingers through her disarrayed hair, now the one who had a fire alighting her face. His playful expression instantly turned to one of dire seriousness.

“I mean it, Nat. I’m gonna find a way. I’m not gonna stop ‘til I do.”

Nathalie smiled sweetly.

“Well, I suppose it is a good thing I am patient.” He grunted in laughter, that cocky smile that Nathalie found so breathtaking creeping across his face again. The arms propped on either side of her head fell down onto the elbows, bringing Jack’s face close enough for his lips to envelop her own. Nat’s eyes fell shut like drawn curtains, wishing to commit the feeling of those soft lips over hers to permanent memory. One day, perhaps, he would be able to kiss her without the feeling of cold fire blazing across her lips, and wouldn’t have to hover over her like a puppet suspended on strings, and could allow his hands to roam freely over her body…

One day, as fate would have it, was closer than they thought…

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

[floraexplorer]

Why My New-Found Love of Running Helps My Anxiety

I never, ever thought I’d call myself a runner.

Even when I began to suffer increasingly with anxiety, I still couldn’t see the benefit of exercise on my mental health.

I love long-distance walking, but I guess my relationship with real exercise has always been iffy. I hated PE at school; never found a team sport I particularly enjoyed; I’m perpetually terrified of cycling on London’s roads; and although I eventually discovered yoga, the benefits of my practice never quite resonated in the way I hoped it would.

When I lived in Hackney, my flatmate would get home from work then head for the yoga studio a three minute walk away – and more often than not, I’d allow myself to be dragged there too. But if she wasn’t going, it was absurdly easy for me to find an excuse.

“You’ve just washed your hair – it’ll get sweaty!” I’d think. Or, “you’ve just got into a good groove with your work – if you leave now you’ll lose momentum!”

But in the back of my mind, there was always a little voice nudging that I really should be doing some kind of physical activity to keep my fitness levels higher than, say, walking up and down the stairs.

Enter: running.

I downloaded the Couch to 5k app – but I didn’t trust it

There was a park literally outside the door to our flat in Hackney, so it made sense that I should attempt to run around it. After a little bit of research, I found Couch to 5k, which is a free app set up by the NHS. It promises to take you from the sofa to a 5km-worthy runner in just nine weeks, if you do three half hour sessions a week – what’s not to love about that idea?!

For a few weeks I tried to follow the Couch to 5k program religiously. I shuffle-jogged when the disembodied voice of Jo Whiley told me to, and gratefully stopped when she said I could (NB: the first few weeks of the app is based on interval training: you’re tasked with eight repeats of 60 second runs with 90 second walking breaks, which gradually increase to 3 minute runs with 90 second walking breaks and so on). 

But something wasn’t clicking. I could just about manage the runs, but I wasn’t enjoying them. Worse, I started to look for ways to avoid the sessions – and because of my travel schedule, something always stopped my progress around week 5 (which is also when the run lengths increase significantly each session. Coincidence..??)

When I moved back to my family home to care for my terminally ill dad, I started the app again. This time, allowing myself the time to run was like clinging to a life raft: leaving the house for half an hour each morning was one of the few stable moments in that surreal carer journey which I could count on. The immediate physical reactions of my body took precedence over the reality my mind was always focused on.

So you’d be excused for thinking that I would’ve kept on running, right?

Yet when Dad died, all thought of exercise went out of the window.

While I grieved, I couldn’t find the confidence to run

There are so many things people don’t tell you about grief (which I’ve written about at length here). There’s the complete mental and physical exhaustion, for a start, as well as the sudden emotion which comes on suddenly from nowhere – but grief can also have a huge effect on your sense of self-confidence.

I’d already been developing anxieties about my physical safety before my dad’s death, and in the aftermath they got even worse. The need to cry struck me at so many points throughout the day that my house was the only place I felt calm: when I was there, nobody could see me fall apart. If I was outside when the emotion swelled, though – on a bus, in the street, at a pub, in a shop – I’d have a panic attack.

As a result, during much of 2018 I’d spend days at a time sobbing in bed. This eventually prompted friends to ask, “Have you tried going for a run? It’s helped before!”

What I found extremely difficult to explain was this: I already felt so battered and bruised by grief that the mere thought of being overwhelmed or unable to complete a run was too much of a defeat before I’d even started. Yes, running had occasionally made me feel better before, and I knew they meant well – but I resented the implication that I’d somehow made ‘going for a run’ into a fix-all solution. 

“It’s not as simple as that!!” I wanted to scream. How could it be, when hearing the suggestion of running made my mind spiral?

First, the sheer process of preparing to run was exhausting: the idea of crawling out of bed, searching for running clothes, finding my trainers, hiding my key somewhere on my body, stepping outside and entering a world I simply didn’t trust.

Next, what utterly terrified me was having to brave the unknown of that realm outside my front door. What if I tripped over in the first minute of jogging? What if I skinned my knee? What if someone saw me and laughed? What if I got a stitch and had to stop and felt like a failure because I couldn’t finish the session? What if I got red in the face and really sweaty and my knee hurt and I suddenly panicked that I was already getting arthritis at age thirty?

No. Much easier to stay inside my house where nothing could hurt me. Where I could cry in peace. Where I had at least some semblance of control.

Surprise! I officially have Generalised Anxiety Disorder!

For anyone who suffers with anxiety, the above thought process probably sounds familiar. But surprisingly enough, although I knew I was anxious a lot of the time it didn’t register that these thoughts weren’t really me.

These anxious thoughts are just thoughts. Thinking them won’t make them happen. They aren’t the truth. 

Thankfully, I started seeing a CBT therapist earlier this year and our sessions have been incredibly helpful. She’s explained to me that after a traumatic experience like losing a parent, my ‘fight or flight’ response is dialled all the way up, so I’m constantly perceiving everyday situations as harmful and destructive. After listing out every possible anxiety I encounter on a regular basis, we’ve been able to group my anxieties into more distinct categories – and in turn, that’s allowing me to distance myself from them and lessen their impact on me somewhat.

Working positively on my mental health re-awoke my body to the idea of improving its physical health. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that when I began my CBT sessions I also started the Couch to 5k app again.

And because I’m more in tune with these wilful changes in mentality at the moment, something in the app really struck me. In one of the Week 2 runs, the narrator (a choice of five voices; I always choose Jo Whiley) says,

“It’s all about changing your mindset. Instead of, ‘I hate running, I hate running,’ just try repeating, ‘I love running, I love running.’ Doing this changed everything for me.”

And as I dutifully repeated that phrase over and over, something inside me just switched. I began to enjoy myself. Not just the post-run endorphins, and not just at moments throughout the run. No – I was actually looking forward to getting outside!!

I found myself getting into a Real Running Routine

For the last two months I’ve gone for a run every few days. Whereas before I’d been looking for excuses to not go outside, now I watch the clock as my favoured running time approaches. I’ve bought proper trainers (the proviso being that every time I consider avoiding a run, I’ll remember how much I spent and be guilt-tripped into it!). I’ve discovered that my pacing works best if I listen to a Punk playlist on Spotify. I even track my route on Strava.

And all this culminated on a hot day in south London, when I found myself running for twenty minutes straight – just under 3km without stopping. The best part? It didn’t even feel particularly difficult!

I’d reached the end of Week 5 in the app, and I was buzzing. But there was a problem. I was about to spend two weeks in Trento, Italy, at the Traverse blogging conference – where there’d no doubt be late nights, hungover mornings, a busy schedule and presumably no time at all to run.

I immediately threw my hands up in resignation – until a friend said, completely reasonably, “Why can’t you just run in Italy?”

It was like a lightbulb had gone off in my head.

Why on earth COULDN’T I run in Italy?!

Nervously, I typed in, ‘Where to run in Trento, Italy’ into Google. I could feel the anxious thought processes revving up in my head, matching time as the page loaded.

“It’ll be way too hot to run there – the forecast says 30’C! You usually run in the early evenings and that won’t happen, there’ll be parties to go to. Besides, I bet there’s nowhere good to run, no parks or anything – and even if there are, the only good places might be miles away from your Airbnb. And what if it’s not safe? What if someone jumps you?”

The search page loaded. Bam. Right in the middle of Trento, Google maps showed me a cycle path beside a river. It looked stunning.

Better than that. It looked PERFECT.

My first ever international run

The night before I flew to Italy, still nervous about whether or not I’d manage any runs during the fortnight, I did a hasty session on the pavements surrounding my house (Week 6, session 1, which meant runs of 5 mins, 8 mins, and 5 mins with gaps in between). It was a little daunting but I managed it – and I knew that meant two runs of 10 minutes apiece in Italy.

Once I arrived in Trento, it was immediately apparent that factoring in a run would be hard. But on my third night I barely drank any alcohol, and woke the next morning at 8am with a clear head and that newly-familiar sensation fizzing in my blood. I WANTED TO RUN.

Headphones into my ears, keys tucked inside my bra, sunglasses on my face (who knew if they’d fall off but it was way too sunny outside not to wear them), I skipped down the three flights of stairs and into the streets of Trento.

It was already 25’C at the river, and I wasn’t sure if running for two sets of 10 minutes (Week 6, session 2) in this heat was going to work – but I’d apparently made up my mind, because when Jo Whiley’s voice told me to run, I JUST BLOODY RAN.

And it was incredible.

From the moment my feet hit the tarmac I felt empowered. I felt delirious. I couldn’t believe I was running in northern Italy, surrounded by the most stunning views – and by the time the second set of ten minutes started, I was wildly snapping selfies and videos of myself and the river, the mountains, and the trees.

I wouldn’t have wiped that grin off my face if you’d paid me.

Has running cured my anxiety?

I keep reminding myself that there probably isn’t a magic fix for my anxiety. Instead, I have to learn techniques to keep it in check. Thankfully, running is doing wonders for pulling me back into the real world and being slightly less afraid of all the things which might (yet probably won’t) happen. Other lovely offsets include:

Feeling less self conscious. If people see me sweaty and red in the face, so goddamn what?!

Feeling motivated. Running motivates me to get out of the house, and I haven’t spent three days sobbing in bed for months.

Being able to see such a clear progression in my endurance levels. Realising that I’m actually upping my ability to run further is EXTRAORDINARY!

Actually wanting to go for a run. I never thought it would happen, but after sitting at a desk all day my legs are urging me to head for the park.

Case in point: the afternoon I flew back from Italy (after nine days without running) I pulled on my trainers, began jogging slowly, and within the first few minutes I felt the sluggishness begin to fall away. It wasn’t the easiest of runs, but I could sense how it was affecting my body and my mind.

It’s surreal to say this – but I actually think I love running.

Which is why I just signed up for my first ever 5km run on July 21st – a Cancer Research UK ‘Race for Life’.  Hopefully in a month’s time I’ll be ready for it. Watch this space!

What’s your stance on exercise and mental health? Have you found running helps with your anxiety?

The post Why My New-Found Love of Running Helps My Anxiety appeared first on Flora The Explorer.

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