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corkcitylibraries · 3 years ago

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Cork in Verse | Ana Spehar interviews Jim Crickard

Cork in Verse is a series of interviews by Ana Spehar with Cork Poets. This week Ana interviews Jim Crickard.

Jim Crickard’s poetry is camp, entertaining work that explores culture, sexuality and identity with a hint of colour. In 2020 he was invited to represent Cork in the Cork-Coventry Twin City Exchange, which was moved online due to pandemic. In 2019 he was selected by Poetry Ireland for the inaugural Versify series and performed to a sold out show at Dublin Fringe Festival. He came second in the 2019 All Ireland Poetry Slam Final (and is working through his feelings about it with a therapist). In 2018, he won the Cuirt Spoken Word Platform and was awarded a slot to perform at Electric Picnic. In 2020 his poetry was broadcasted on RTE Arena. A poem he wrote was shortlisted in the 2018 O'Bheal International Five Words Competition, and his work has been published in Automatic Pilot, A New Ulster, and Contemporary Poetry.

When did you start writing?

I started writing when was 16. I had just come out of the closet, my older brother Shane (20) died the same year in a road traffic accident. Looking back, I think I needed space for expression. I started out with a journal before sleep. It was playful, private, and helped organise my thoughts. I’d draw a little picture at the end of each entry. I acted a bit like Virginia Woolf, with a high-neck collar, writing solemnly by candle light. When people write diaries, I think they secretly fantasise them being found and read by the masses.

When I was introduced to poetry in my Leaving Cert, I found it to be a bit stiff and flowery with poets like Keats, which had some appeal, but when we moved on to Adrienne Rich and Eavan Boland I was a lot more inspired. It was seeing people use the art form to represent women and give voice to minorities, and how they both textured their work with the confessional. I started writing my own poetry at the end of my journal entries but kept it secret. After a few years, and my first break-up, I started sharing online on a site called AllPoetry. It was great because there were little competitions between users and when I won a few of them I felt brave enough to share my work on Facebook. A few people were kind, but most were indifferent.

When I started going to O’Bheal in Cork, though, I really felt like writing could have a future for me. Writing and performing alongside other writers really makes it a lot more gratifying and instils the self-belief you need to keep going.

Could you tell us more about your creative process?

I’m always on the lookout for something to play with and tease out until it’s a poem. I write with the intention of making people laugh when they hear me perform. Unfortunately, ideas rarely happen when I’m walking around day-dreaming. I mostly need to sit down and write to find the idea or follow whatever I’ve got on my mind. One of my favourite poems that I’ve written takes a hen party in a gay bar and expands it into a series of images and scenarios that delight me and make me laugh. If it makes me laugh, then I trust that it’ll make a crowd of people laugh. I didn’t start out with that idea of the hen party though, I was trying to write a rather embarrassing romantic poem set in a gay bar, it was for a guy I was briefly dating. Suddenly there was a hen party in the corner. They abducted me with their willy-straws and novelty-glasses, and I followed their embarrassing moments and social faux-pas as they ran around, interloping and ruining the sacred queer-space. I was much more interested in them than the romantic poem I set out to write. I suppose it’s important to trust where the poem is going and let it reveal itself. If I ignored them and focused on the poem I was trying to write then I’d have missed out.

How does the creative process of writing affect your mood?

I’m elated when it comes together. I love when I get into a flow and my fingers are typing as fast as they can and what I’m writing is surprising me. That doesn’t always happen though, it can be slow and boring and the cursor can be blinking in front of me waiting for me to write something.

How often do you write? Do you write every day?

I wish I wrote every day. I’ve heard multiple sources say that that’s the best way to approach it, and I would definitely believe it. I have had periods where I wrote a new poem every week, possibly more than one. I have also had long periods of not expressing anything on the page. The latter feels depressing and I feel my life passing me by. It is this dread I feel that I’m losing precious time to grow and improve as a writer. I rationalise it by reminding myself that I need to work full-time, clean my apartment, cook dinner, which is all true. I also excuse myself by saying that I need to relax and watch some TV or listen to a podcast. I think that writing is the purest of me-time and I’d like to transform my relationship with it.

Can you tell us more about Venus Envy?

I have been known to dress in drag from time to time... I performed as Venus for Pride in O’Bheal. Afterwards I went to The Crane Lane with all of the poets. It was interesting being a drag queen out of context in another bar... People wanted to talk to me, some random stranger touched me as they passed by, and someone confided in me with something they had not mentioned before. There’s a strange power to being in drag. It’s like being a shaman, a eunuch, a jester, who is on the outside looking in. You can say things that you daren’t dream of otherwise, and people love you for it. If I had the time and money to do it more often I would. Drag will always have a special place in my heart, and on my right arm is a tattoo-portrait of Panti Bliss, the Queen of Ireland. I’ve thought about putting more drag queens beside her, but it would be like Mount Rushmore of Drag on my arm. Who knows, maybe I will.

‘Hen Party in The George’

Be careful around the corners, don’t make eye-contact at the bar,

watch out for the mom, she’s on safari, in search of exotic birds.

For a parrot to echo her punchlines,

or maybe a cockatoo,

she’s prowling around the cocktail lounge,

she’s looking for me and you.

The mother of the bride uses her lazy-eye

to her advantage,

she edges into a group of faces with meandering conversation.

Now blocking their exit, unsure

who she’s addressing,

on about her gay hairdresser, how great

he is with the scissors.

“I’ve never had a problem with the gays now myself” she says,

pausing to sip from a pink plastic penis,

pausing for praise.

And one by one, the gays fly south,

migrating to the bar,

to the dance floor, to South-Africa if necessary.

“Snobs” she calls em -

“them gays can be awful touchy.”

All her Christmases at once

when the black crow drag queen

stalking her long legs across the stage,

seven foot tall, in a silver crown of feathers refracting light off the disco-ball.

“Jesus” she says, stealing the

microphone: “you’re looking better than me”

“I should feckin hope so” the drag queen says “you’re twice me bleedin’ age!”

Slowly, slowly, the hen party has pissed off all of the George...

Abandoning punctured plastic husbands all over the stage.

Flashing so many cameras it feels like E.T.’s family has landed.

A gathering parliament of lesbians encircles the hens,

a murder of goth gays come down from their perch

I wonder if they’ve seen Hitchcock’s movie, ‘The Birds…’

by Jim Crickard

Sex in the Housing Crisis

We are the generation of born-again virgins

headboards disturb housemates on shift work,

Air-traffic controllers should be included in rent

to coordinate times to get the ride

Landlords can afford to support our sex-lives

and change carpets once in a while

We are the generation of born-again virgins

Like ships in the night, we work to survive,

but we are no thirty year old cargo boats…

anchored in the harbour, waiting for labour,

we are Ferrari red speed boats

with miles to go before we sleep,

miles to go before we sleep.

We are the generation of born again virgins

Nothing kills the mood like mildew

home-sense is built on the backs of millennials

fumigating probate houses

converted into one-beds

with constellations of mould

and half their salary paid

to make out on an old couch

facing a microwave

We are the generation of born again virgins

If you’re living with parents you can forget it

unless you can face breaking their trust

and explain condoms in the toilet-drain.

We must not forget about our parents sex-lives

afraid their carefully considered bed springs

will be heard by their thirty somethings

Let’s give the government hell for

this inter-generational dry spell!

by Jim Crickard

#corkcitylibraries #CorkInVerse #JimCrickard

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scarlettwitcher · 5 years ago

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She’s Everything

Request: by Anon: Can I request a Steve Rogers x Reader based off the song She’s Everything by Brad Paisley? Please and thanks!

Summary: Steve thinks about Y/n

Characters: Steve, Y/n, mentions of avengers

Word Count: 2,645

Warnings: fluff everywhere, that’s it, this is just teeth rotting sweetness, italics are flashbacks

Author’s Note: So I’m gonna be gone for another week! Sorry. I’m going to Dallas to see my dad. I haven’t seen him in over 3 months. I will try to have some fics prepared to just post but if not, I hope you enjoy this one! I don’t really have a lot of marvel tags so if you do love it, please reblog it so it can reach more peeps! Requests and tags are open! Love to my girl @queenxxxsupreme for being my beta. As always, thanks for reading and feedback is welcome/needed. ALSO PSA: I will be changing my url in the next few weeks. I’ll be messaging a few people that tag me regularly about this but just so everyone knows and doesn’t freak out when they don’t see my original name. Don’t worry it’ll be similar to my old one.

“Is there something on my face Rogers?”

“No, no. You’re good.”

“Then why are you staring at me?” Steve opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. He blushed and coughed, trying to cover up his speechlessness. You started giggling as you reached over pinching his cheek. “Awe, baby, why are you blushing?”

Steve smacked your hand away as you started laughing again and couldn’t help laughing with you. He knew he wouldn’t be able to say it yet but he just couldn’t understand how he found someone like you. Someone who could love him so effortlessly. He knew he had his faults and that the lives you both led were very dangerous. Part of him knows that’s why he appreciates you even more. Everything about you always had him in awe.

Your fashion sense was all over the place, but to Steve, you looked great in everything. One day you appeared at his door with yellow running shoes and he looked at you bewildered but accepted it. He always loved your ripped jeans because he had access to your skin, his hand always buried inside one of the holes, holding your thigh. You had boxes full of sunglasses and on every mission, you’d be wearing a different pair. Steve didn’t sweat too much since he knew you loved buying them from the gasoline station near the tower. Now and again, you’d stump him with your “I have nothing to wear!”. He’d always turn to look at the giant closet full of your clothes but he never dared say anything, not again anyways. He learned his lesson the first time when you threw a shoe at him. But his favorite was when you wore his clothes. Nothing could get him as turned on as seeing you in his clothes.

Steve thought about how much you loved chocolate, sneaking in chocolate bars into his room every night, or hot chocolate, or waking him up at three in the morning, asking him to bring you some chocolate you left in the kitchen. He thought about how much you loved going to the movie theatre even though Tony had his own movie Theatre. He scolded the both of you for wasting money when he had everything. You simply laughed and said the popcorn was better. On rough days, especially after missions, being at the theatre was one of your comfort spots and he knew this. He knew you loved being in the dark and pushing all of your worries onto the characters on the screen.

Steve smiled to himself when he thought about how much you loved staring at the stars and telling him about the constellations. It amazed him how much you knew about space. He loved windy nights when the breeze would blow your hair around, your sweet scent. The nights that had a touch of your lingering scent were always the best. He’d hold you extra tight those nights. On his rough nights, you were always there. You’d pull him onto your chest, rest his head there, letting him listen to the soft sound of your heartbeat. He always knew he could talk to you, let everything go. You’d listen intently, give him reassurance when he needed it. You’d always drag your fingers through his hair, cry with him when he needed it, and never let go, not ever.

You had always been very protective of Steve. You knew of all the pain he went through. Hell, you were with him most of the time when they happened. It’s not to say the super soldier didn’t get on your nerves either. You had only had a few fights but they were always intense. You’d both end up screaming at each other. You always had a hard time containing yourself, so mid argument, you’d leave. You’d go to the gym and pound into a sand bag until you broke it or your knuckles were broken and bleeding. Steve would always find you sitting in the corner. He’d sit down next to you and you’d talk it out. And things would be okay. It’s always how it ended. You’d be okay. You were always really affectionate with him. You’d never leave bed without kissing him somewhere on his face, never leave the room without hugging him, especially never leave the quinjet on a mission without kissing him deeply. He relished in your touches, a slave for more, a slave for your affection.

Steve couldn’t believe he found someone like you. You were what he always wanted. It took him a while to move on from Peggy. Once he met you and you hit it off, he decided it was time. He closed that chapter of his life and moved on with you. Everyone says he’s obsessed but he just knows he’s in love. Tony always kicks him out of the room when he starts to talk about you. Steve doesn’t realize it but sometimes he just talks about you for hours and hours and hours. Even you tell him he’s ridiculous. He just laughs it off and continues. He just can’t believe he has you.

Every Saturday, you’d push him to go out. He wasn’t always keen to be in public but he sucked it up and went with you, knowing if he didn’t, you’d just go out by yourself and he wanted to be around you. Somehow, you always found something different, something new to do in the city. He loved watching you light up at the poetry cafe you found, watching people read their beautiful poems, or the way your eyes would widen when you find a beautiful greenhouse on someone’s roof. You smelled like roses for days after you left there. Even though neither you nor Steve were religious, you went to church on Sundays, to accompany your parents. It was so foreign to Steve. His life was full of danger. Enemies, missions, death experiences, that was a normal Sunday for him. But church, family dinner, fancy dressing, he was way out of his element but the few hours of normal he got with you and your family was everything he ever wanted. Sometimes you couldn’t make it and it always bummed him out. He loved Sundays with your family. They had basically adopted him. When your mom passed away a year ago, she had given you her cross. You weren’t all that comfortable wearing the cross but you knew what it meant to her. So you had Tony melt it and turn it into a locket with her picture and Steve’s inside. You never took it off after that.

Steve hated Mondays but you didn’t care. Except you turned into Oscar the grouch, yelling your good amount of fuck and bitch in the morning. Steve thought it was hilarious, watching you flip him off because he said you looked like a ray of sunshine. By the end of the day, you were back to your old self. Steve helped train new agents and you always had the bath prepared for him when he returned. Bubbles littering the surface and candles on every open surface. Sometimes, you’d even join him, sitting in the tub waiting for him. These were some of his favorite moments. Steve thought back to a few months before when he had arrived to your shared room but you were nowhere to be found. After bathing and changing, he walked around the tower looking for you until he finally found you in what was the rec room. The lights were dimmed, candles everywhere, as well as rose petals. One of Steve’s favorite songs was playing softly in the background and you were standing in the middle, dolled up in a nice dress and makeup.

“What’s this? It looks really beautiful, doll.”

“This,” You twirled your fingers around, signaling to the room. “Is just me saying I love you. Dance with me.” Steve rushed over, embracing you in his arms before you both started rocking to the music. You started talking about your days, succumbing to each other, laughing and enjoying yourselves. You had poured wine and handed him a glass as you drank together. You pulled him towards the couch and you kept talking, sitting there for hours, just like you always did. After your first glass, you were a giggling mess. You were a huge lightweight and Steve always made fun of you for it. You playfully acted hurt when he called you out on it and he immediately tried to make up for it, littering your skin with kisses and promises of forever.

“Earth to Steve.” Steve came to with you snapping your fingers in front of him. He looked at you confused for a second before dragging his hand down his face.

“Sorry doll. Did I space out again?” You smirked and nodded your head before flicking his knee.

“Third time this week babe.” Steve blushed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry doll. I don’t mean to.”

“What are you thinking about so much?” You curled into his chest as you both laid in your bed. You listened to his heartbeat raise just a bit and you smiled.

“You.”

“No wonder my ears don’t stop ringing.” Steve laughed and shook his head. He kissed your forehead softly and pulled you even closer to him. It wasn’t long before you said your good nights, your soft even breathing letting him know you had fallen asleep. He sighed softly and slowly laid you down on your side of the bed before standing up and walking out to his balcony, looking out at the view. He looked over at your sleeping form and smiled to himself as he saw you took all of the covers and bundled yourself up. He was going to freeze that night for sure. He grabbed his wallet from the dresser, flipping it open and looking at the picture of you that he had in it. He had been the one to take the picture. You were at a festival that you had dragged the team on. You were so excited, you had even bought a beautiful sundress that flowed beautifully around you. You had found a dancing spot and you were letting go, dancing around like no one else was there. Steve pulled out his phone and took the picture, having it developed later on. It was one of his favorite moments with you.

Steve knew you were it for him. He was completely head over heels in love with you. He couldn’t stop himself thinking of you as his wife, the mother of his children, the woman he was to, somehow, grow old with. He couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. Once upon a time he was still hung over Peggy but he realized that maybe that love prepared him for the intensity of yours. He was thankful for it. Steve remembers exactly how he met you, actually he prayed for it. Steve wasn’t religious and he wasn’t one to pray but he was being called into a meeting with the team to evaluate some old missions, file some paperwork, all textbook, but he was going to be stuck in the room all day. While riding the elevator to the meeting room, Steve looked up for a few seconds murmuring, “I don’t know if you’re listening but please, make this meeting bearable.” The moment the prayer left his lips, the elevator stopped on a floor and you stepped in. You nodded your acknowledgement to the soldier but Steve couldn’t stop staring at you. You were so beautiful and he just couldn’t help but gawk. “You going to the meeting too?”

Steve snapped himself out of his creepiness and nodded before sighing quietly. “Yeah. I take it you are too.”

“Yeah, Stark said it was mandatory with the training. Fingers crossed nobody dies.” Steve chuckled but before he could respond, Natasha and Clint joined on the elevator and you got to chatting away with the other Avengers, being rather familiar with them. Immediately, Steve took a liking to you and after the meeting, cornered Natasha several times, trying to get information about you.

Steve smiled fondly at the memory as he stared at the night sky, watching the clouds slowly pass by. He replayed most of his favorite memories of the both of you in his head. He wondered if this was how the rest of his life with you was going to be. He imagined you and him in your small house in the woods. You’re both sitting on your rocking chairs on the porch, watching the lake next to your home. You’d be making fun of Steve for putting his pants on backwards that morning and he’d make fun of you for burning the eggs. That was what Steve wanted, to grow old with you.

Steve watched as you moved in your sleep and felt the love blossoming in his chest. He didn’t know how it was possible but he just kept loving you more and more everyday. He knew it, you knew it, everyone knew it. They could see it in the way he looked at you, the way he lunged himself in front of you to protect you on missions. The way he made you breakfast and took you to your favorite restaurants. The way he took an obscene amount of pictures of you and talked about you every chance he got. He was a fool in love.

Steve knew why he was losing himself in thought a lot more than usual. He was reminiscing before he made his decision. He was ready. He wanted it to be nice, something amazingly beautiful and he knew he’d do it soon but he had to do it now. He moved back to the bed and crawled in next to you. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. His cold skin against your warm one made you groan quietly in your sleep. He kissed your head and slowly kissed down your face, peppering you with kisses. When he got to your neck, you hummed quietly, slowly waking up. He kissed down your chest and you were now conscious. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled in your sleep. “You better have a good reason for waking me Rogers.” You said playfully.

“You think I want you to kick my ass?” You giggled and finally opened your eyes, being met with bright, blue ones. He looked at your face with pure adoration before kissing you softly. He fidgeted nervously before pulling back. You furrowed your brows but decided to not ask, letting him take a moment. It took everything in him to get the words he wanted but he looked at you seriously and took a deep breath. “Y/n, I have never met anyone so stubborn, so determined, so loving and kind, I’ve never met anyone like you and I’m glad I never will because you are one of a kind. You make me such a better person, someone I didn’t think I could be any more. You give me hope for tomorrow and for the future. You’re such a pain in the ass but I wouldn’t have you any other way. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, ” Steve moved to reach into his small bedside dresser, opening his sock drawer and pulling out a velvet box. You watched with wide, teary eyes, your breath hitching when you saw the box. He slowly opened it, showing you the beautiful ring inside. “This past week I’ve been so lost in my mind, I’ve just been thinking about you and us. Thinking about how we fell in love. I know you are what I want. I want to grow old with you and have kids. You are it. So, doll, will you marry me?”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling @dancingalone21 @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56 @brooklymw @persephonehemingway @blacktithe7 @donnaintx

Marvel Tags: @captain-rogers-beard @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @stretchkingblog97

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ahiddenpath · 4 years ago

Note

7, 8, 9, and 10 for Meme for Fic Writers. Have fun!

Ahhh, thank you for the asks, my friend! Here is the question list. Throwing it under the cut for length!

7.) Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Seeking Resonance

“But, even as he ran his fingers down her upper arm, even as he acknowledged that she was a crucial part of him, Takeru wished that he could step away from her, ridding himself of the intruder who burrowed more deeply towards his core every day. There is fear in love, he repeated to himself. It was the opening line in one of his latest- and most popular- poems. It was certainly not a new thought, but then, what was? What mattered was the presentation, the depth of emotion placed into the words. And he had bled out over that poem, plucking words from his heart as one might pluck thorns from flesh: slowly, carefully, with much pain, swearing, and wine.”

I’m not saying that this is the best thing I’ve written, or even that I’m proud of it, but... I like this bit because I think I nailed what writing can feel like, sometimes. That’s when you know you’re being vulnerable and honest.

And if you’re going to read just one thing I’ve written- just one full chapter- make it Yamato’s chapter in After August. It’s got everything, man. It’s got some solid writing, it’s got Hiroaki, it’s got me finally starting to really figure out how to write Yamato, it’s got the coalescence of the point I was struggling to reach with the whole fic. Check out the opening scene:

When Yamato left for school this morning, his father was already gone. He returned to an empty apartment, cooked and ate alone, cleaned up, and started his homework in his room. Scowling, Yamato dropped his pencil and leaned back in his chair. The quiet was intense, endless, absolute. It was to the ears as utter darkness is to the eyes: a fearsome void.

He drummed his fingers against the desk, needing the noise. He considered moving to the living room and turning on the TV or stereo, but the thought made him tense. Living rooms were supposed to be shared spaces, gathering places. His bedroom already felt huge. The main apartment area was like a cavern.

The image made him shudder. The four walls surrounding him seemed to darken. Yamato exclaimed, slammed his hands on the desk, and pushed himself to his feet. Could the dark cave suck him in on earth?

Gabumon's not here to help me. No one is. Yamato's breathing was labored, lungs straining for air. He collapsed on his bed, bent over, and cradled his head in his hands.

Seconds passed, and nothing happened. Somewhat reassured, Yamato straightened. His eyes landed on the framed picture on the edge of his desk. He focused on Gabumon as his heartbeat slowed back to normal.

Sighing, Yamato lifted the picture and pulled it in. When he was upset in the Digital World, Gabumon sometimes asked him to play the harmonica. Somehow, his digimon knew that making music was an outlet for Yamato, a way to siphon off his emotions.

I guess I was thinking that it's too quiet... Yamato sat the picture down, then leaned forward to open a desk drawer. His harmonica was stored there in its case, the spot where it remained now, safe from being lost or damaged.

Yamato grabbed the instrument and spent a moment appreciating the tactile sensations of cool metal and sliding his fingers over the square openings in the comb. He lay down on his bed, closed his eyes, and lifted the harmonica to his mouth.

Although he already had a song in mind, he warmed up with a few scales, inhaling and exhaling to hit every note, blocking airflow to unwanted chambers with his tongue. Giving each part of the instrument its due was meditation for his troubled heart.

And after his breath warmed each chamber and every note sang, he began to play Gabumon's favorite song.

8.) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Hahahaha! For me, I love love love writing dialogue between Koushiro and Taichi. I feel that Koushiro can be his most direct and short with Taichi, and that’s... So, so, delightful. I also really love when writers or actors convey characters talking over each other/cutting one another off, because it happens so often, and is so rarely shown? (Also, you can see from the “cool head” bit that I had not yet nailed writing Yamato at this point).

From Seeking Resonance:

Thankfully, this set the operator down to business, and the ambulance was dispatched. Taichi lowered the phone and stared down at Eimi. Now what do I do? He had no clue, so he called Yamato, turning to someone with a cool head. When the call went to voice mail, he tried Koushiro, muttering orders for the nerd to get off his computer and answer. His nerves frayed more with each ring, and he barked a curse when the chiming stopped.

An exasperated sigh blew into his ear. “Honestly, Taichi-san. Be profane elsewhere. I’m trying to work.”

“Koushiro!” A flash of relief and surprise lightened his strain. It didn’t even occur to him to pick at his friend for being up and probably working before sunrise.

“Thank God. Shut up and listen.”

“Taichi-san-” The dry disapproval that accompanied their typical repartee colored Koushiro’s voice. Taichi grunted in response, but it sounded more like a growl.

“Shut up! I’m with Eimi-”

“I’m aware-”

“I just called her an ambulance. She’s nonresponsive and burning up. She, she…” His voice broke in a fashion he hadn’t heard since early puberty. “She looks like shit, Koushiro. I, I’m terrified.”

There was a short beat of silence, broken by a sharp intake of breath on the opposite line. “What do I do?!”

“Uh- Well-” In any other situation, Taichi would have laughed at Koushiro for stalling and stuttering, but it scraped at his nerves now. “Jyou keeps an emergency bag in the closet closest to his front door-”

“How the hell does that help me-”

“And he likely passed that habit onto Eimi-san. Check and see if she has one. It should contain clothing, personal items, insurance information, and the like. And at this hour, you’re probably running around in boxers.”

Taichi was already sprinting towards the foyer closet, his feet crashing like thunder against the stairs. He was, as Koushiro predicted, a pair of boxers away from being butt naked. “Fuck you.”

“Charmed. Find the bag, clothe yourself, and carry Eimi to the couch in the library; it’s closest to the front door. Put something on her feet. Text me the name of the hospital. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Koushiro- Thank you.” Taichi cut the call off without waiting for a reply, then shoved the phone under his armpit. His bare feet slid against the hardwood as he cut his speed by the closet.

9.) Which fic has been the hardest to write?

...Seeking Resonance, probably. I think I got pretty real about how hard it is to make your way as an adult. It’s a vulnerable work.

10.) Which fic has been the easiest to write?

Definitely So You Were Alive, which I wrote and posted in under two hours.

#ask hidden #sluggybasson107

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luthien-t · 4 years ago

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The Sun Will Shine. (Chapter:2)

Summery: Thanos invaded the asgardians ship & Thor called for back up. Being a liable paramedic, you gather your tools and went to space. You end up being injured during battle but Thanos was defeated, what will you do when you find out your lover, Loki suffered more than just a few battle scars? But then again, no one is ever really gone.

Chapter Summery: You left the hospital with the news of Lokis death. The first night in the Tower seems quite until you found a book between Lokis other favorite books.

warnings: Im not entirely sure, but this is one is kinda sad. small panic attack? and swear words i think.

wordcount: 2.4K+

Getting out of the car, you breathe in and walk towards the elevator in the tower to get to your compound floor. You pressed the button on the elevator and sighed. Tony tapped his fingers against his thigh with his eyes glued on the number going up towards the floor. “We made it, safe and sound” He smiled and looked at you before walking out of the elevator. You nodded lightly and gave him a smile back, even though you felt like complete utter shit, Tony has helped you the past two days ever since Thor walked out from that hospital room, he has been kind to you and it didn’t feel as lonely as you expected it to be.

“Tony, Thank-“

“ah ah ah, no need to thank me, we’re a family, we will always look after each other!” He gave your shoulder a soft pat and angled his head towards the kitchen. “They’ve made food, join us?” He said with hope in eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say yes. Ever since you received the news, you wanted nothing but to be alone. So, you shook your head. He frowned and then nodded his head. “We’ll leave your food in the microwave for later, get some rest, y/n” And with that he walked towards the kitchen.

You sighed and slowly walked towards your shared bedroom with Loki. Once you’ve reached the door, your hands began to tremble and your breathing was getting heavier. The closer your hand got to the knob, the more it trembled and with a deep breath you open the door and scan the room quickly before covering your mouth and closing the door behind you.

You shut your eyes, maybe if you keep them closed you won’t cry, you lean against the door. It was getting harder to calm down when every time you breathe in you also inhale his scent.

“Why did you have to fucking leave me?” You curse at the empty room.

Silence.

Silence was all you have now in this room. No more morning kisses, no more late night cuddles, no more arguing, no more Loki.

You sniff as you walk around, trying to adjust with this wide space. The chambers were always fit for one person, it was just a bed, a couch for two, a walk in closet, a desk & a bathroom. But now it felt like it was too big, too empty.

Looking around at the mini library you installed and smile through the tears, not being able to see; you caressed the books softly and then sat down on the desk, looking out the window.

When Loki first came to the compound, it was difficult for both him and the rest of the team.

Your first encounter with the God of Mischief was during a meeting before a small mission about a random Hydra base.

“What is he doing here?” You said, venom dripping from your words.

“Darling, I’m asking the same question myself. What am I doing here?” He smirked at you, scanning your reaction. It always felt like he could see through you. “Lady y/n! I see you met my brother Loki!” He smiled wide. “Adopted.” Loki budged in, with a finger pointed up. You nodded slowly and looked between the two brothers before going to your seat next to Nat. Loki however, kept his eyes on you almost the entire meeting, every time you look back at him, he pretends to be looking at something else.

You stare at the buildings and the glowing lights in each one as you replay your memories in your head. The tears never stopped, it was hard to believe that the man you love is no longer here to hold you. A knock made you turn your body towards the door. “Can I come in?” It was Wanda. You sniff and shrug.

“I don’t have the energy for anything, so do what you want.” And with that you turn your back to her and stare out the window. She sat down next to you and rested her hand on your knee, looking at you. “When I lost Pietro, I felt the same. Like a piece of me died” She looked out the window, giving you privacy when she noticed how your brows furrowed and your eyes swelling with tears again.

“I’m not saying that you are going to move on, but-“ you shook your head and rested your head on her shoulder. “I don’t need words, Wanda. I need him back.”

“In Romania, we believe that death is just the second step, wherever he is, y/n. I believe that he is okay” she whispered softly.

You replied with a sniff as your body shook. She wrapped her arm around you as she slowly swayed you both. “Sleep in my room tonight?” You look up at her, unable to process that the bed is going to be empty without Loki, you saw her stare at the view, maybe she was thinking about how to turn down your offer or tell you that you have to do this on your own, but she then responded with a soft smile and a nod. “Okay, I’ll go change quickly and get you something to eat” She unwrapped her arms and got up to leave the room.

You get off the desk and roam around the room, grabbing a random book from Lokis side, it was dusty; Which is odd, considering Loki cared for his books too much to allow a single spec of dust. You scanned the book then looked at the others, this was the only one dusty, as if it wasn’t touched for ages. You open the book and realize that it is actually a journal. Lokis had a journal? The words were written in his handwriting. You start reading the first three words and your heart beats faster.

If I die, my love.

You look around the room, biting your lips. Closing the book and reopening it to the same words, maybe you were imagining things, you told yourself. Maybe it’s just a poem, but as you read a few more words.

If I die, do not believe them. I am here, near.

Waiting for you.

You know me like no other, my love. I always have my plans and tricks against the titan.

Your throat feels dry and you sit on the bed, looking at the door as Wanda walked in with her pillow & a tray of food, her smile dropping when she noticed your face was drained of color and your mouth open.

“What is it?” She approached you slowly.

“He’s not dead.” You look up at her.

“Loki? Did you see him?” You shook your head and pointed at the book.

She eyed you and then looked at the book. “y/n…” She sat down on the bed in front of you. “No, Wanda listen to me” You read her the words and she nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry but, but this doesn’t mean anything.” She said as she twirled a finger around a strand of her, a habit she tends to do when she’s nervous, you notice and nod.

“You’re right, I’m making a big deal, it’s probably just a poem.” You say, sarcastically. “A poem that somehow talks about him dying and mentions of Thanos!”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “Y/n, please don’t overwork yourself now, you need to rest. If Loki is planning on messing with you now, at least allow it when you’re healthy” She frowned and put a hand on the book, you look down at her hand and then back up at her, nodding “You’re right, I’m sorry” You close the book and put it on your night stand then pull the tray towards you. “Thank you, Wanda” She smiles at you and moves to sit next to you on the bed before turning on Netflix. “Anything for my sister” Now it was your turn to smile.

You spent the rest of the night watching Netflix, Nat came by to check up on you and decided to join you two, the night was filled with binge-watching & jokes about dumb scenes in the movies. You ended up falling asleep halfway through the fourth movie.

Your sleep was interrupted by a soft thud next to you, slowly opening your eyes and turn your head towards the sound, raising an eyebrow when you find it to be the journal. Looking back at Wanda & Nat then back at the book, you slowly sat up and grabbed it, not wanting to wake them up. You then got out of bed and walked out of your room towards the balcony in the living room, it was dark & quiet, not a single soul was awake. 3:43AM. You noticed the time and sat down on the chair, staring at the buildings again, your heart beating faster when you opened the book, too scared to read the words again, as if it’ll disappear and the small grain of hope you have will extinguish.

You push yourself to look down at the page & reread the same words again, sighing in relief as you continued to read, leaning back down on the chair with your legs up on the table.

If I die, my love.

If I die, do not believe them. I am here, near.

Waiting for you.

You know me like no other, my love. I always have other plans and tricks against the titan.

I always knew that he would be defeated, the titan was driven by his own imagination that he lost his grip on reality.

Now tell me, my love. Do you remember the list we had about the places I have promised to take you to? It’s where I wait.

You flip the page, furrowing your eyebrows. Of course you remember that list, he made you write down every place you wanted to visit so that he can take you there himself. You bite your lips, you don't know where he put that paper, you wrote it almost a year ago. That list had over 50 places written on it, he could be anywhere. “What are you doing to me, Loki?” You whisper to yourself. This was starting to feel like it’s some stupid treasure hunt and you were growing frustrated the more you read. It was filled with numbers and codes.

You sigh and close the journal, your feet leading you to Thors room. Hesitant, you knock on the door softly. You give it a few more seconds. There was no response so you walk away, and as you took a sharp turn towards your room, you bump into someone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there” You say.

“y/n.” It was Thor. You look up at him and smile slightly, “Can’t sleep?” You say and notice the drink in his hand, frowning slightly, he just shuffled in his place and gave you a stiff nod.

“I want to apologize for my behaviour back in the hos-“

“Thor, it’s okay. But we need to talk- it's about your brother” You hand him the book and he raises an eyebrow slightly before walking towards the living room. “What is this about?” He said as he sat down, knowing that you followed him to the living room.

“He’s not… you know” You sit down next to him and point at the book. He chuckled and looked at you only to stop when he noticed the serious look on your face and cleared his throat. He set the book down on the table, staring at it, waiting for something to happen to it. “This is his journal Thor.” You say with an annoyed tone before you could stop yourself. You know Loki always loved to mess around with Thor when they were kids, so you knew he was probably expecting Loki to jump out of the book or something.

“Yeah of course, why- why would the journal be Loki? That’s not what I thought” He said with his voice slightly a pitch higher & laughed softly. “How do you know he is not dead?” His tone changed to serious and he set the drink on the table next to it. You ran a hand through your hair and shrug. “It’s as if he’s telling me where he is hiding, but it’s just filled with riddles and numbers and I need help translating some words.” You look at him, hoping that he would understand what you’re asking from him without having to say what it is that you want. He shook his head softly and leaned back on the couch, opening the book and reading it.

“Those letters and runes are in Juton, I cant speak Jotun…” He looks at you quickly before looking back and flipped the pages quickly, scanning some words with his eyes before shutting the book. “Look, Loki is… Well, if he really wanted you to find him, he wouldn’-“ Your groan stops him. “Thor, please, even if I’m wrong in this, I just want to know” You shrug “What do I have to lose?” He stares at the drink ahead of him and nods gently. “I’m sorry but I can’t help you with this, it seems as if he is making this harder for the both of us, since I cant understand a single word he wrote. Both Juton and english, he is asking you to find him, not me” You can hear the hurt in his words and nod, apologising for this conversation.

Thor is mourning his brothers loss and you’re over here trying to force him to do something he can’t do. But you are determined on understanding every word Loki wrote in this journal, with or without anyones help. You excused yourself and went to your room, slowly walking in and looked around, you looked at the girls and smiled softly and then walked towards your closet, grabbing as many clothes as you can and quietly put them in a bag and then went to the desk, you took half of Lokis books and put them in the bag and then softly laid on the bed, scrolling through your phone for apartments for rent.

Tomorrow, you were planning on leaving this Tower to understand whatever is going on around you. You love everyone in this Tower and they all mean so much to you but you want to be alone and it feels like this is the only way to achieve it.

#loki x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki odison x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinsdottir #loki fic #loki imagine

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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1. Do you like having your picture taken? No.

2. Have you ever done a photo shoot, professional or non? I’ve had pictures taken at photo studios and I have a cousin who’s a photographer that did my college graduation photos.

3. If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go and why? I mean, nowhere right now. BUT, there’s a lot of places I’d love to visit one day. Various countries and places here in the US. I just want to be able to travel a lot one day.

4. Who would you take with you on this little adventure? My family.

5. What would you say is the most daring thing to do in a lifetime? That’s going to be different for everyone of course, but basically something that pushes you out of your comfort zone. Conquering a fear.

6. Would you ever do that? I don’t know.

7. Have you ever done crossword puzzles? Yeah. I much prefer word searches, though.

8. Ever actually completed one? Yeah.

9. Pick up the closest book and write a sentence at random from it. There isn’t a book near me.

10. Do the same with a lyric from either a cd or the radio. Nah.

11. Have you ever tried to analyze your own dreams? Yeah, many times. I’ve tried to look up what some things symbolize and what it might mean for me.

12. Would you put up posters in your room? Yeah. I have some things hung up.

13. Can you sing? I can’t sing well at all. I wish.

14. Do you ever sing to yourself while doing everyday tasks? Yes.

15. What's your favorite color of post-it note? Pink.

16. How many cassette tapes do you own? Zero.

17. How many cd's do you own? I don’t have any CDs anymore.

18. Ever bought a cd for just one song? I probably have.

19. What would your perfect day consist of? Beach days are nice. Or since it’s winter, renting a cozy cabin in the snow sounds lovely.

20. Have you ever lied to get off the phone or out of talking to someone online? Yes.

21. Have you ever written a survey? Once. It was several years ago during the Xanga days. I wish I still had it saved.

22. How about a song? If so share it. No.

23. Or maybe a poem? If so share it or one of them. I dabbled with poetry when I was 16. I am definitely not sharing one, they’re super cringey.

24. Is your vcr flashing 12:00 all the time? I don’t have a VCR. Wow, cassette tapes and VCRs how old is this survey?

25. Do you read your horoscope? No.

26. If so, do you base your day on it? No, I’ve never been into astrology. I used to read it when I was younger like in an magazine, but it was always just for fun.

27. Would you rather chew gum or use mouthwash and why? Chew gum. Mouthwash is way too strong to me and I find it irritating for my mouth and yeah it’s just not a pleasant experience.

28. Do you floss? No. :X

29. Are you addicted to napster like me? Okay, now you’ve mentioned Napster so this survey is super old. Napster was like late 90s and early 2000s.

30. How many times a year about are you sick? I rarely get things like a cold, which I find interesting because I feel like my immune system is crap, but I feel sick and crappy often for other reasons.

31. Ever been in an airplane? Yes, a few times.

32. If so where were you flying to? Georgia and back and to Disneyland and back.

33. What radio station to you listen to most? It’s been a few years since I’ve listened to the radio.

34. What color are your shoes? I wear my black Adidas the most.

35. Was fuzzy wuzzy a bear? He was. He had no hair, though, so he wasn’t actually fuzzy.

36. Do you know how to play dominos? I’ve never really played.

37. Or do you think I just mean pizza by that? No, I know what dominos are.

38. Speaking of pizza, what's your favorite kind? (toppings and/or place to get it from) My favorite is from this local place. I like to get white sauce, feta and ricotta cheese, crumbled meatballs, garlic, spinach, and pesto and olive oil drizzles. I’ve been really craving that lately.

39. What color are your eyes? Brown.

40. How many surveys have you filled out this lifetime? Oh pffffft, I am not even going to attempt to figure that out. There’s no way I could. I’ve been doing surveys for so long and sadly so many of them are gone because they were done on Myspace and Xanga. :(

41. Describe your bedroom, include all details. Okay, you want details? Here we go...

It’s small and has way too much stuff. For one thing, there’s giraffe stuffed animals all over, including a 4 ft one in the corner. There’s a dresser by the window that has my TV and Christmas decorations on it. To the right of that is a 6-cube shelf with some of the aforementioned giraffe stuffed animals as well as giraffe knickknacks, some coloring books and coloring supplies, a mini Christmas tree on top, a few more giraffe stuffed animals, a nice picture frame with my dog, Brandie, who passed away, and my BB8 droid I made at Disneyland. Above the shelf is an I Love Lucy wall clock. My closest is nearby and is full of medical supplies, 3-drawer file thing with random stuff I insist on holding onto, my shoes, and all my jackets and sweatshirts. To the left of my dresser is my bookshelf with a lot of books and other figurines and knickknacks of various things I like and hey surprise, surprise, more giraffe stuffed animals! Across from the bookshelf and dresser is my bed, which is also my desk cause I keep my laptop on it, my chargers, my phone, a coloring book, a couple packs of colored pencils, my Bible study stuff, my remotes, and my Nintendo Switch. I have a pile of clothes, too, cause dresser and closet are too full. I have like 8 throw pillows, a body pillow, a back pillow, and a couple actual pillows. I have a few stuffed animals that sit on my bed as well, which are a huge squishmallow giraffe, a small squishmallow pug, a small squishmallow Dumbo, a small squishmallow Baby Yoda/Grogu, and a Baby Yoda/Grogu plushie. To the right of my bed is a TV tray that has my bottles of water, my medicine and pill crusher, a box of straws, a glass, a Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink, chapstick, my wallet, a Zip-loc bag with half a glazed donut and half a chocolate one, and a small bag of shortbread cookies. Behind the TV tray is my 3-drawer bedside table, which has a makeup storage thing on it that I plan on cleaning out and getting rid of cause I don’t wear makeup anymore and could use that space for something else, a bottle of lotion, a couple little room sprays from B&BW, and a jewelry tray. Hung up on my walls around the room are a few giraffe framed paintings, a couple beachy canvas paintings, two Alexander Skarsgard calendars, a bulletin board with various stuff pinned to it, and a marker board. There’s also a hamper in here, a floor lamp, a ceiling fan/light, two fans, and an ottoman.

42. Name one person your life is made better by. My mom. She’s my best friend.

44. How about someone else's? Huh?

45. Can you do math with ease? Ha, noooo. Me and math never got along.

46. What size is your computer screen? It’s 13.3 inches.

47. If you could only talk to one person online who would that be? Someone from the survey community on here.

48. Name your favorite type of music and why. I like a variety of music--various genres and decades.

49. Are you a vegetarian? No.

50. How about an aspiring actor/actress? Not at all.

51. What famous person dead or alive would you interview if you had the chance? Alexander Skarsgard.

52. Which movie can you watch and say the lines along with the actors? There’s a lot of movies I could do that with. I try not to cause it gets annoying, but it happens.

53. Name one of your passions in life. I don’t know. :/

54. What's your least favorite time of day? Evening time.

55. Who's your favorite member in a band, singer, guitarist, bassist, drummer, and why? The singer, typically.

56. Do you use hairspray or gel? I use neither.

57. Describe your favorite meal. Wingstop’s boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings. I also really enjoy my nightly bowl of ramen.

58. What color is the inside of your head when you close your eyes? Black.

59. Ever listen to classical music? Not typically, but it is nice.

60. Have you ever said lol in real life without thinking about it? No.

61. Do you find you use internet language when writing notes irl? I use “wtf, “wth”, “omg”, and “lol.”

62. What songs would be on your ideal cd? Like I said, I like variety, so a mix of songs.

63. Say one thing you've learned today. Nothing, really.

64. What is the best present you've ever given someone else? I don’t know.

65. What is the best present someone else has ever given to you? I’ve been given many nice gifts throughout my life. I’m appreciative of all the gifts I’ve received.

66. So hey, what's your full name? Stephanie is all you need to know.

67. Describe yourself while drunk. I was chatty and annoying.

68. How big are the windows in your house? Regular, common size? .

69. Do you wear a watch? Nope.

70. What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done with someone else? Nothing.

71. What's the largest age difference between you and someone you've dated? Just a year.

72. How many mirrors do you have? Just one in my room.

73. Write one sentence stating what you want people to say about you after you've passed on. I don’t know, man.

74. Have you ever sailed? Nope.

75. How fast can you run? I used to be able to go pretty fast, but not now. I don’t have the upper body strength or energy I used to have.

76. What do you believe in? I believe in God.

77. How long does it take you to get ready to go out? Not long at all. I just change clothes, quickly do something with my hair, brush my teeth, put on deodorant, put on my shoes, and then grab my bag and mask and go. And a coat if needed.

78. Do you shower daily? If not how often? No, I shower 3-4 times a week.

79. What one thing would you change in your life if you had the power to do so? I’d make it so I had good health.

80. Describe the ideal superpower and what you would do if you had it. Teleportation. I’d travel all over.

81. Are candles romantic or a fire hazard? They can be both.

82. Name something you've done in the last 24hrs no matter how big or small. I had coffee and donuts. Exciting stuff.

83. Do you wear necklaces, bracelets, anklets, earrings, rings? I haven’t worn any in awhile.

84. What colors are you wearing right now? Just black.

85. How often do you change the sheets on your bed? Twice a month.

86. Have you ever gotten lost? Not alone, thankfully, but yeah.

87. What's on your computer desk? I mentioned in the question about my room that my bed is also my desk and I listed the things on it.

88. How many folders are on your desktop at the present moment? Zero.

89. When your talking do you ever use your hands to do quotation marks in the air when saying certain words? Sometimes, if I find it necessary to do so.

90. Which landmark would you climb if you could? None.

91. Do you own or have you read, or thought of reading any self-help books? I read the Chicken Soup For The Soul books when I was younger but that's it. <<< Same.

92. Ever seriously questioned your sanity? Yes. 93. Can you breakdance? No.

94. What's in your fridge right now? Food and drinks. I’m tired from listing everything in that room description question lol.

95. How many people do you live with? I live with 3 people and a doggo.

96. Have you or would you ever do anything more than kiss in a public area? No.

97. What is the strangest thing you've ever done? Uhhh. I don’t know.

98. Name an instrument you've never played but would like to. Guitar.

99. Have you ever been on tv or the radio? Myself, as well as my story, was on TV after my accident happened.

100. What is the worst thing anyone could ever do to you? Physically hurt me.

101. Are you a fast typer? Yes.

102. How high have you counted before getting bored? I don’t know, but probably not very high. I probably would get to 100 and be over it.

103. Describe how you sleep. (ie. your position and/or how you fall asleep) I sleep slightly propped up and turned to my left side. I have indigestion and post-nasal drip issues, so I can’t sleep flat. I have a whole nighttime routine consists of scrolling through Tumblr, doing surveys, and listening to ASMR until I feel tired enough to fall asleep.

104. Are you straight, bi, gay? I’m straight.

105. Do you ever do something else while on the computer? If so what? Sometimes I’m watching TV.

106. What is the most expensive item you own? My MacBook Air.

107. How about the least expensive? My little knickknacks.

109. What do you do online? Check my social medias, watch YouTube, scroll through Tumblr, and do surveys.

110. Name some stores you've bought clothes in before. Boxlunch, Hot Topic, Kohl’s, JCP, Target, H&M, Macy’s, Forever 21... those are a few that come to mind.

111. Have you ever read a book and not understood it? If so which one? I struggled with mythology. I just couldn’t get into it, so that definitely didn’t help, and it was hard to follow.

112. Have you ever watched a movie and not understood it? If so which one? Yeah. Whenever that happens I jump on Google and read up on it afterwards.

113. Do people pick up your slang language more than you pick up theirs? I pick up lingo from others most often.

114. Are you easily influenced by other people, or current trends? No, I wouldn’t say that.

115. What makes you unique in your own opinion? I don’t feel very unique.

116. Name your worst quality. Where to start... .

117. Name your best. I like that I’m open-minded.

118. What would you like to do with your life? I need to get myself together and figure that out.

119. Do you blowdry your hair? Nah.

120. How many clocks are in your house? We have like 3 wall clocks and there’s digital clocks throughout the house on appliances and electronics.

121. Are they all set on the same time? The phones and electronics are. The others are a few minutes fast. My parents set their digital clock like 15 minutes fast.

122. Have you ever intentionally set a clock ahead or behind the actual time? Like I said, we set some of them a few minutes ahead.

123. What do you think about when you first wake up in the morning? "What time is it?"

124. Which browser do you use? Google Chrome.

125. Do you bite your nails? Ugh, I don’t bite them but I pick and clip at them with clippers constantly.

126. Would you ever leave little notes to your gf/bf? Sure, I think that’s cute.

127. Ever been to a farm? Yes.

128. Tell me about your dream last night. I don't remember. I rarely ever do. What typically happens is I’ll remember when I first get up, but then it like vanishes. My dreams are like Snapchat. If only there was an option to save or screenshot them like Snapchat.

129. Ever seen a shooting star? No, actually.

130. Say one thing about yourself you've never told anyone. Uhhhh. I’m so boring, I can’t think of something interesting to share.

131. Do your days fly by or seem to last forever? It often seems like the days go by slow, but then before I know it it’s already been a whole week again and I’m like wtf it was just Monday? That’s how the years tend to feel, too. There’s definitely some days that just really seem draaaaag, though. And there’s something about January that always feels super long.

132. Have you ever stayed in a fancy high class rich hotel? Yes. 133. Have you ever stayed in a rent-by-the-hour motel? No.

134. What in your opinion is the best advertising slogan out there? If they get stuck in your head then they’re doing something right. It’s gotta be catchy. Jingles work well.

135. When they start sending rockets to the moon for us civilians, will you be on the list to go? Noooo, absolutely not.

136. How are you feeling right now? Tired, kinda hungry, and lonely.

137. Have you ever written anything on your skin? Yeah.

138. If so what? Random stuff. That was something a lot of people seemed to do in like middle school and high school for some reason.

139. Which website do you frequent most often? Tumblr and YouTube.

140. What color are most of your clothes? Black.

141. Do you own any plants? Nope.

142. Are things as bad as they seem? They sure seem bad to me.

143. Describe the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you. My mom is amazing. She’s sacrificed so much. I’m 31 years old and require aid with some things and here she is still taking care of me and doing so much for me on top of working a full-time job, being a caregiver for a family friend as well, taking care of us as a family and of things at home, and she very rarely has anytime for herself. She’s spread very thin and works so hard and yeah I just could never thank her enough. She’s the absolute best and I would be so lost without her. I couldn’t keep going if it weren’t for her.

144. Ever looked directly at the sun? Yes.

145. Have you ever made a pin hole camera to watch the eclipse? No.

146. What's your favorite cereal? All the main sugary ones, ha.

147. Who do you miss? My loved ones who have passed away.

148. Name something you just can't forget no matter how hard you try. Uh, a lot of things. My mind doesn’t like me to forget things like that. It likes to remind me of them often. Things like that hit at random times as well, like my brain will be like, ‘hey remember when...’ and I’m like, ‘ugh, yes I remember you won’t let me forget.’

149. Describe the worst fight you've ever been in whether physical or verbal. I’ve never been in a physical fight, but there were some verbal ones. I don’t want to get into them right now.

150. Say something else about yourself you've never told anyone before. Noooo.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #150 questions

2 notes · View notes

go-gently-please · 6 years ago

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cherry ~ vampire!au (part 2)

~ pairing: human!BTS x vampire!OC

~ genre: vampire!au, smut, angst, sprinkles of fluff

~ summary: you begin to adjust to life with your seven new human blood bags, pleasantly surprised at how smoothly the transition is going. But good things never last forever, and you discover that controlling yourself is not as easy as you thought.

~ warnings: profanity, blood

~ a/n: this is kind of a filler chapter, i’ll admit. i’m not happy with it, but i’ve rewritten it so many times that i think this is as good as it’s going to get

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (coming soon)

links in masterlist!

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this nervous, which was saying something considering the fact that you were immortal.

The boys were moving in today, and for the last few hours you’d been running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Your apartment was cleaner than it’d been in years. Windows washed, floors shined, every surface wiped clean. Not a spec of dust had survived. Everything was immaculate.

You’d spent what felt like forever preparing all the guest rooms, scrutinizing even the smallest detail. You’d even stayed up all night researching human nutrition so you’d be prepared to properly take care of them.

It was then that you realized all you had in your kitchen was coffee, alcohol, and an unnecessary amount of sweets. You’d immediately gone to the grocery store and bought enough food to feed an army, making sure the fridge was fully stocked with protein, juice, and fresh fruit.

It’d been a few days since you’d met with them at the cafe, and in the meantime you’d been trying to get to know them better.

Most of them were starving artists. That’s how they all knew each other: through art school.

Jimin and Hoseok were dancers, with Jimin studying ballet and contemporary and Hoseok working as a hip hop teacher. You should’ve guessed, they both had the body for it.

Namjoon was a freelance writer, and he made most of his money selling poems and short stories. You could already tell that he was the most intelligent and well-read out of all of them.

Taehyung was a painter. His style immediately intrigued you, colorful and youthful like his personality. You’d already bought three of his paintings. One was hanging in your living room.

Yoongi and Jungkook, the quietest of the group, were trying to make a name for themselves in the music business, Yoongi as a producer and Jungkook as a singer.

Jin was an aspiring model, working gigs here and there. His family had money, but was very conservative, and they’d cast him out after finding out that he was bisexual.

It couldn’t have been easy for them, struggling to pay the bills and stay in their one tiny apartment. Financial instability was often an unfortunate circumstance of pursuing one’s artistic passions.

But none of that mattered anymore. Now that they were under your care, you planned on spoiling them to no end. You couldn’t help but think about how good Jimin and Yoongi would look in some Chanel, and you couldn’t wait to dress Taehyung up in Gucci.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the doorbell rang.

You hopped up from your spot on the couch, sending your cat flying, and hurried over to the mirror hanging by the door. Fixing your hair, your eyes ran over your reflection. You were dressed more casually today, wearing a cream-colored sweater and jeans.

Staring back at you in the mirror was a mask of exhaustion. Bloodshot eyes, under eye bags, skin drained of color.

You really needed to feed. Your body was starting to deteriorate from the lack of nutrients.

You desperately hoped that your problem would be solved soon; you could practically taste their blood on your tongue, sweet and smooth like a fine wine.

After determining that your appearance was as good as it was going to get, you opened the door.

“Hello!” You were barely able to control your excitement. “Please, come in.”

They all crowded into the room, and what they saw made their jaws drop.

The space was wide and welcoming, definitely bigger than what they’d expected. Everything was sleek and white and expensive-looking.

Directly opposite them was a wall made up of entirely windows. The busy cityscape extended out before them like an ocean. They imagined how beautiful the sunrise would be through a wall of all glass.

The open floor plan allowed them to see the sitting area, kitchen, and office space all at once. The living room area was occupied by a semi-circle of couches gathered around the TV, which was three times the size of the one they used to have.

There was a large table near the glass wall that was covered in scattered papers, stacks of books, dirty coffee mugs, luxury brand lookbooks and magazines.

“Woah.” Hoseok said in awe.

“What? What is it?” You frantically looked around the room, searching for even the tiniest flaw.

Did you forget something? Did you leave out a pair of dirty underwear? Did you leave your favorite vibrator lying around?

“It’s just…your place is so nice.” Taehyung said, looking around with wide eyes.

“Yeah, it looks more like a penthouse than an apartment.” Jin added.

You bent your head to hide a smile.

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

They timidly stepped further into the room, their heads swinging back and forth as they looked around. Then, a noise broke the awkward silence.

Everyone whipped around to stare at the source of the sound. Your cat had it’s head poked out from behind the couch, trying to get a peek at the new visitors.

“Who’s this?” Jimin said like he was talking to a baby, squatting down to hold his hand out to the cat.

“Oh, that’s Yuki. She doesn’t really like people, so I wouldn't—”

The cat nuzzled her head into Jimin’s palm, eyes closed, the low rumble of her purring filling up the room.

You trailed off, shocked at her reaction. Yuki wasn’t a people person. Every time you had company over, she flinched away from their touch and hid in your bedroom.

You stared in absolute disbelief as she rolled over to expose her tummy. Jimin’s ringed fingers nearly disappeared in her thick fur.

“I’m guessing you like animals, then?” You asked, chuckling.

Jimin smiled down at the cat as he scratched under her chin.

“Eh, they’re alright.” He said sarcastically.

You suggested to go get the rest of their bags so you could help carry them up. They led you down the staircase to the lobby where a pile of luggage was waiting.

You approached the largest out of all of them, a big black suitcase, and moved to grab it.

Apparently, Yoongi had the same idea, because you both reached for the handle.

He’d gone straight for the suitcase once they’d gotten downstairs, and you wondered what was in it that was so important to him.

Your hands touched as you moved to take the bag, and Yoongi let out a soft gasp when your fingers brushed his, so quiet that you only heard it because of your attuned vampire senses.

His was so warm. You were suddenly aware of how his entire body was radiating heat, radiating his heavenly aroma. You wanted more than anything to drag your lips across his neck, trace the veins, and sink your teeth into his perfect pale skin.

Resurfacing from your daze, you focused back on his face. You realized that this was one of the first times he’d actually made eye contact with you. He was staring at you intensely, mouth slightly parted as his eyes seemed to pierce straight into the furthest, dustiest corners of your brain.

Oh no, you immediately thought. I freaked him out. He felt how cold I am. He’s probably disgusted. He’s probably horrified.

Yoongi seemed to snap out of it, breaking his gaze to look back at the suitcase.

“I’ll take this one, it’s really heavy.” He said.

You grabbed it before he could, picking it up like it weighed less than a pillow.

“I got it. You know, vampire super strength and all.” You said, picking up three more bags and carrying them with ease. You felt him staring as you walked up the stairs.

“So, there’s only five bedrooms, some of you will have to share.” You said shyly, hoping to God that they would be okay with it.

“Five?” Jin blurted out. You fiddled with the sleeves of your sweater.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Is that going to be too much of a problem?”

“Problem?! That’s more rooms then we had in our whole house!” Jin said.

“Yeah, at our old place we had to share two bedrooms, and we had bunk beds so we would take turns sleeping on the couch because of the odd number.” Hoseok said.

You let out a breath, relieved that they weren’t upset over it.

Honestly, you felt bad for them. From what they’d told you about their lives, they were barely getting by. Jimin was still a full-time student paying off loans. Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook found work wherever they could, and the only way Namjoon and Taehyung made money was if their work sold, which wasn’t always a guarantee.

You couldn’t help but feel like you were taking them under your wing, giving them a better life in a sense. Well, quite literally since they were about to be evicted and homeless.

“Should I give you the tour?” You asked when everything was loaded inside.

They all nodded, eager to look around the impressive space.

“So, downstairs is the living room, kitchen, music room, lounge, and first bathroom. Please make yourselves at home and do whatever you want with the TV. I have an X-box and PlayStation and you’re free to use those too.”

That made Jungkook’s head pop up, ears perked in interest.

They followed you as you ascended up the floating staircase.

“Upstairs has the five guest rooms, my study, two bathrooms (but one of them is connected to my room), and the spare room, but that door’s always locked.”

Before they could ask why, you stopped in front of a row of doors and showed them inside.

Each guest room was as beautiful as the rest of the house. Each contained two queen beds, clean sheets tucked in all neat and tidy, two walk-in closets, and all manners of shelving and cubbies to store their belongings. It was far nicer than their old bedrooms had been.

Jin and Namjoon were already picturing all their collectibles and figurines displayed on the shelves. Jungkook had already picked a designated spot to set up his gaming computer, and Yoongi was eager to lay out all his equipment.

You could tell they were excited, itching to discuss who would get each room, so you decided you would let them get settled.

“Are you guys hungry?” You asked. It was seven o’clock. Humans usually ate around this time, right?

They all nodded vigorously.

“Alright, why don’t you start unpacking while I make dinner.”

The second you were out of earshot, they burst into a fit of chatter.

“I’m rooming with Jungkook!”

“I get the biggest closet!”

“I want a room that doesn’t have to share!”

Of course, what would be considered out of earshot for a human doesn’t apply to vampires, so you heard the whole thing. You giggled at their antics as you walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

As you put the pasta on the stove to boil, your mind started to wander.

You sincerely hoped they would enjoy it here. You wanted to make your home as welcoming as possible, you wanted them to feel comfortable.

The incessant growling of your stomach interrupted your thoughts. You sighed, looking down at the your hands, the skin turning ashy in color as the veins bulged. It wouldn’t be long before your eyes started turning red. Your hair would streak gray and your lips would turn dry and cracked. You would slowly start to look more and more like a corpse until you fed.

It had to be soon. You didn’t want to scare them with your lifeless appearance.

But how were you supposed to ask? They were just starting to settle in, the atmosphere was still filled with tension. You didn’t want to make them feel pressured by asking so early, that might scare them away. No, you were going to have to wait for one of them to initiate it.

The smell of the pasta sauce simmering in the pan did nothing to curb your appetite. You could eat regular food, you could appreciate the taste, but it had no nutritional value, and it did nothing to satisfy your raging hunger, especially now.

You perked up when you heard movement in the hall. Footsteps started to patter down the staircase.

The boys all filed into the dinning area, their eyes landing on the table that was already loaded with food.

“Take a seat, boys. I’m almost finished.” You said as you drained the noodles. They all sat at the dinning room table, muttering to themselves about how quickly you had gotten everything together.

You set down the pot of steaming pasta, the scent wafting into their faces, next to the basket of rolls. They started to dig in, and you giggled at their shocked faces when you proceeded to open a wine bottle with your bare hands.

You sat there, practically chugging your wine as they ate, hoping that the alcohol would help to satiate you. How lucky they were that they could silence their hunger so easily.

“You really didn’t have to go through so much trouble for us.” Namjoon said as you topped off your first glass.

You smiled at him.

“It was my pleasure! I want to make sure you are as happy as possible here.”

Namjoon smiled back at you, and you almost melted when you saw his adorable dimples.

“Thank you. We are very grateful for your hospitality.” He said.

He was the leader figure of the group, you could tell. He always acted polite and respectful, and his intelligence seemed to ooze out of all of his mannerisms.

By the time they’d finished eating, you’d polished off two more glasses. You were getting more and more agitated. Just watching them made your stomach growl.

You could smell each of them distinctly.

Jin was mature and flavorful, complex but smooth. Yoongi was savory, musky. His blood would compliment anything. Hoseok was bold. His scent was almost overpowering. You could already tell he had the strongest taste out of them all. Namjoon was rich and alluring, he’d pair well with chocolate and fruit. Jimin was the sweet one, you were already craving him. Taehyung…oh, Taehyung. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on him. He was so decadent, he’d have no problem satisfying you. And last but not least, Jungkook. He was light and fresh, but definitely packed a punch, there was an undeniable tang in the scent his blood.

“Um, Charlie?”

You blinked, refocusing on the situation at hand. It was Jimin who had spoken.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright? You look a little…are you feeling okay?” He was studying the way you were licking your lips over and over again, how your eyes were clouding over.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little…hungry.” You said it before you could think about how they would react.

They all looked at each other.

Shit. I shouldn’t of said that.

“Uhh…I’m gonna get started on the dishes, excuse me.” You stammered out. The chair screeched as you jumped to you feet. You started to flee to the kitchen, but one of them stopped you.

“If you’re hungry, we can help you with that.” Yoongi said.

Your head snapped around to stare at him. Was that Yoongi who had spoken? Yoongi, the one who’s only looked me in the eye once this entire time? The one who’s probably scared shitless of me?

“You’d be willing to do that?” Your mouth was already watering.

Yoongi cracked a gentle smile, and oh my god you almost pounced on him.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” He said.

Looking around, you could see that they were all staring.

You didn’t know, but they were all itching for an experience with you, for you to suck their blood and give them the high that Jimin had been talking about ever since you first drank from him.

You swallowed hard, trying to control yourself.

“Okay, just let me clear the table.”

With shaking hands, you loaded all the plates into the sink and worked to slow your breathing, which was rapid with excitement.

Finally, finally, you would be able to feed. This would be the first meal you had in days.

They were all waiting anxiously in the living room when you finished, fidgeting in their spots on the couch. You took the seat between Yoongi and Jin.

“So, who’s it gonna be?” You said, breaking the silence.

Without hesitation, Yoongi rolled up the sleeve of his white button-up and bared his wrist to you, looking right into your eyes as he did it.

Everyone, including you, was shocked at his boldness. Yoongi was quiet normally, and he’d been especially shy with you.

This showed just how eager he was.

Back when everyone was getting their bags, Yoongi had gone straight for his equipment. It was in a big black suitcase that was heavy enough to make him struggle every time he carried it.

When your hand had touched his, Yoongi remembered feeling electricity shoot through him. Your skin had been cool and incredibly smooth, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and interlace your fingers with his.

It must’ve had something to do with the natural allure that all vampires had, all those pheromones and chemicals they released that were designed to attract humans, but it was safe to say that he was successfully ensnared.

You took hold of his arm as you drew him closer.

“If you want me to stop, just say “cherry.” Okay?” You asked.

Yoongi nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Light as a feather, your lips grazed along the inside of his wrist. You could feel his pulse pounding through his skin.

“I still need your permission, love.” You said quietly.

Yoongi’s breath was shaky as he wet his lips to speak.

“Drink from me.”

He shivered when he felt you smile against him. And then you were drawing your lips back and sinking your teeth into his skin.

The first thing he did was wince. You reached down to give his knee a reassuring squeeze.

Then he sighed and sank back against the seat as the endorphins washed over him. Gripping him tighter, you started to draw the warm, fragrant liquid from his veins.

He was even more delicious than you had anticipated. His taste was sharp and pleasantly tart. You gripped his arm with both hands as your fangs pierced deeper.

Yoongi’s eyes were closed as his chest rapidly rose and fell. His mouth was slightly ajar as he drew in quick breaths.

You closed your eyes and moaned with your lips firmly attached to his skin. You couldn’t have asked for a better meal.

“Harder.” Yoongi muttered, eyes still squeezed shut.

You were happy to oblige. Digging your nails into his arm, you willed your fangs to grow longer, sharper.

“Ahhh…” Yoongi groaned from deep in his throat. “Ahh fuuuck…”

That’s it, sweetheart, you thought. Give in to me.

Sweat started to bead on Yoongi’s forehead. His black hair stuck to the damp skin, hanging in front of his eyes, which were still tightly closed. His unoccupied hand gripped the edge of his seat.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth when you started to sweep your tongue over his skin.

Aww, look how sensitive he is. What a sweet little thing.

Even though your jaw was clamped around his wrist, you smiled.

Yoongi shivered, letting out a wobbly sigh.

Before you could take it too far, you ripped yourself away from him.

His eyes stayed closed for a few seconds, still in a daze, before he opened them and looked at you with wide kitten eyes. His chest was heaving like he had just finished running.

“You alright, darling?” You asked, sweeping the sweaty mess of hair from his eyes.

He just nodded wordlessly.

You smiled at him and took up his wrist again. Bringing it to your lips, you licked away any remaining droplets of blood and licked at the wound so there would be no bruising left behind. It’d be a shame to mark up such a beautiful set of hands.

For the first time in several minutes, you were aware of the other boys presence in the room. They were staring at the both of you with blown-out eyes, darkened with an emotion you couldn’t name.

Jin’s ears were bright red, as well as Jungkook’s cheeks and the entirety of Hoseok’s face.

Jimin had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. His cute plump cheeks were tinted a pretty shade of pink.

Taehyung’s mouth was hanging slightly open in slack-jawed ‘o’ position, and Namjoon was sitting there like he’d just watched one of those sex-ed videos from middle school of a woman giving birth.

Hoseok was the first one to break the silence.

“I-Is…is that enough…for you?” He asked after clearing his throat.

You turned to look at them, eyes running over their anxious faces. They wanted to know if you wanted more.

“Taehyung.” You said.

He immediately looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

You gestured him over, and he quickly planted himself in the seat next to you.

To everyone’s surprise, you moved to straddle him. You yanked his shirt open to expose his gorgeous collarbones, running the tip of your finger over the golden skin of his chest.

Taehyung looked up at you with an expression that could’ve easily been mistaken for fear, but in reality he was exhilarated, hanging onto your every action as he waited for your next move.

You loved this. Having seven beautiful men, all of them considered out of your league, wrapped around your finger. You felt drunk with power.

You smiled that wicked smile of yours, leaning towards him to let your breath tickle the goosebumps that had risen all over his skin.

“May I?” You asked.

He nodded furiously. You raised an eyebrow at his lack of words.

“Yes. Please, drink from me.” His low voice rumbled in his chest.

That sly grin stayed plastered to your face as you lowered yourself over his body and pressed your mouth to the juncture of his shoulder. Your lips grazed over the elegant curve so lightly that it made Taehyung shudder.

The next thing he knew, your fangs were lodged deep in his neck. He let out a deep growl that made your stomach flip.

A burst of flavor hit your tongue as you gripped his biceps, keeping him in place. One of his hands was clenched around your waist, while the other was on the small of your back, pulling you closer.

You hummed to yourself contently as you felt his luscious taste fill your mouth.

Taehyung’s deep voice was making you weak. He kept moaning and groaning in that low timbre, sending vibrations through his chest and straight into your body.

Your hand snaked its way into his hair and tugged his head to the side, giving you better access to the veins criss-crossing his throat.

“Nngh…” Taehyung squirmed underneath you.

Massaging his scalp, you increased your pace. The more stimulation humans got, the better it felt.

“Yes, yes…faster.” He mumbled.

Your hand slid out of his hair and down the side of his neck to trace the curve of his clavicle.

Once you were satisfied, you pulled away from him, licking the side of your lips. You rolled off of his legs and slouched against the couch cushions. Leaning your head back with closed eyes, you sighed deeply.

“Thank you.” You said as you felt the dull ache in your stomach fade.

The room was silent as you caught your breath.

Once you’d come down from your high, you opened your eyes and stood up, making your way over to the kitchen. You fetched two juice boxes and tossed one to Yoongi and Taehyung.

“If it starts bleeding again let me know, but you should be fine.” You said.

The two of them nodded with their lips wrapped around the thin straws. You held back the urge to chuckle at how adorable they looked, like two children following strict orders from their mother.

The burst of energy left you with a sense of newfound confidence in the whole situation.

Maybe this could really work out, you thought as you brimmed with optimism.

…I don’t have to be alone anymore.

You looked up at the group of men, all seated in your living room, every single one of them willing and eager to fulfill your every need.

You smiled to yourself. Yes, this will work. You would make it work. How hard could it be?

~~~

2 WEEKS LATER

“Get your lazy asses out of bed and come eat breakfast!” Your voice carried through the whole apartment.

“I’m right here! Why are you shouting?!” Jimin said from his position on the barstool across from you. His hair, still wet from the shower, made him look like a blond hedgehog.

“Sorry.” You said, pushing over a bowl of oatmeal.

Bare feet padded down the stairs. Jungkook trudged into the kitchen and plopped down at the bar next to Jimin, rubbing his tired eyes.

“M’rning…” He mumbled.

“Morning.” You set out an assortment of buttered toast, eggs, fresh fruit, and yogurt with granola.

Yoongi dragged himself into the room, looking just as tired as Jungkook. He took one of the three cups of coffee that you’d already poured, and sipped it with his eyes closed.

“Why do you insist on making breakfast so early?” He whined.

“Because I have to leave early for work and I need to make sure that you all eat.” You replied as you stirred creamer into a travel mug.

“We do eat.” Taehyung insisted as he entered the room in his matching polka dot pajama set.

You looked at him through your eyebrows.

“I need to make sure you eat something that has nutritional value.”

He didn’t have an answer for that.

“Goooood morning!” Jin said cheerfully as he skipped over to the counter.

Everyone groaned simultaneously. Jin shot them a disgusted look.

“Who woke you up with a fucking suppository?” He snapped as he took the second cup of coffee.

“Charlie.” Yoongi said accusingly.

“You guys are babies. I’ve been up since four.” You said.

“You don’t sleep!” Jungkook interjected.

You puckered your lips in a defeated expression, then grabbed your to-go cup and moved towards the front door, your heels clacking loudly.

You took one last look in the mirror. Hair pulled back, pressed white button-up, tight black pants.

You grabbed your bag from its hook and tossed it over your shoulder.

“I’m leaving for work!” You called out to the boys.

They all responded with a chorus of goodbyes, wishing you a good day.

“Wait! Charlie, are you hungry?” Taehyung asked, holding out his bare wrist.

“I’ll be good for a while. Thank you, Tae.”

He flashed you a boxy grin, and you walked out into the hall and closed the door behind you.

It had been surprisingly easy getting used to their presence in your home. They were all relatively easy to get along with, despite their different personalities, and you found their company very enjoyable. Even though it'd only been two weeks, it felt like they been living with you for months.

Sucking their blood quickly familiarized you with their habits and preferences. You knew who was masochistic (Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi) and who was sadistic (Jin, Namjoon, Taehyung, Hoseok). You knew who liked it rough (Hoseok, Namjoon, Yoongi) and who liked it soft (Jin, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook).

Things were looking good. There was no tension, no problems that came with the new living situation. None of the problems you'd expected to present themselves were apparent.

But good things never last.

The first incident occurred on a busy Monday afternoon. You were having a difficult day at work. Deadlines were looming, stress levels were high, and coffee was being consumed in unhealthy amounts.

“Charlie, here are those reports you wanted.” Your secretary plopped a stack of papers on your desk.

You sighed and rubbed your temples.

“Thank you, Melody.” You said, exhaustion heavy in your voice.

“Are you alright?” She put a warm hand on your shoulder.

Her scent flooded your nose. You hadn't fed in a few days, and you were starting to feel the side effects.

She was cute, with plump pink lips and warm doe eyes that screamed innocence. You may or may not have checked her out a few times.

You drew in a long, slow breath, trying to control the sudden urge to pin her against the wall and wrap your hand around that pale, delicate neck of hers.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just tired.” You said once you'd willed your fangs to stay put.

She smiled at you.

“Try not to work too hard, boss.” She gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“I'll get you a cup of coffee, okay?” She said.

You nodded as you felt your tense muscles start to relax. Melody always knew what you needed.

“With cream and tw—”

“Two sugars, I know.” She grinned as she disappeared through your office door.

You sank down in your desk chair with a groan. You couldn’t wait to go home and feed.

The rest of the day crawled by at a snail’s pace. By the time you dragged yourself through the front door of your apartment, you were ready to gouge your eyes out.

Instead of the silence you were used to, you were greeted with pleasant chatter and sounds of movement. That was another good thing about the boys arrival, you always came home to company instead of solitude.

Crossing the threshold, you hung up your coat and dropped your bag.

Jungkook and Taehyung were sitting on the floor in front of the TV, locked in a fierce gaming battle. Jin was in the kitchen wreaking havoc.

“How are you so bad at this? I’m playing with my eyes closed!” Jungkook teased.

“You’ve played this before! This is my first time!” Taehyung shot back.

Jungkook poked his tongue out at him and Taehyung snatched his controller, holding it out of his reach.

“Hey! Give it back!”

Hoseok walked over to them and grabbed them both by the ear.

“Would you two stop acting like children.” He scolded, pulling them apart with a sharp tug.

“Ow! Hobi, let go!”

“He’s being a sore loser!”

“What are you two heathens up to now?” You called, gaining their attention.

At the sound of your voice, everyone perked up.

“Charlie, you’re back!” Jungkook said in delight.

You beamed at his cute bunny smile.

“Do you guys know where Jimin is?” You asked.

“Probably in his room.” Taehyung said as he focused back on the TV.

Your excitement grew with every step up the stairs. Jimin would be just what you needed, something sweet to satisfy your cravings.

You tapped softly on the door.

“Come in.”

He was sitting at his desk with his headphones in. His face lit up when he saw that it was you.

“Hey.” He said, eyes crinkling as he smiled.

“Hey.” You went inside and closed the door behind you. Jimin’s increasing heartbeat was fully detectable by your sensitive ears.

“You busy?” You asked.

“No. What do you need?” His eyes were wide and hopeful.

You looked down at the floor, fidgeting with your hands. No matter how many times you did it, you still felt slightly embarrassed to ask.

“...I’m hungry.” You said quietly.

Jimin’s cheeks bloomed in a faint blush. He shyly looked at his feet.

“Okay.” He stood up and sat on the bed, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

You approached him slowly, trying to build up your confidence.

Jimin gulped as you moved to sit on his lap, legs on either side of his torso. His eyes were locked on your face as you brushed his shirt collar aside.

Licking your lips, you leaned over him and pressed your mouth to the hollow of his throat. He moaned softly when your fangs penetrated.

You hummed against him when his overwhelming sweetness met your tongue. Compared to some of the other boys, with their hearty, salty flavors, Jimin was such a nice treat.

Gulp after gulp, you swallowed him down.

“Yes...oh, yes...Charlie—ah.” Jimin’s voice was high and breathy as he stuttered between gasps.

You always tried to ignore how worked up they got. Yes, you were fully aware that it felt good to humans, you were perfectly knowledgeable about the orgasmic feelings of pleasure that came with feeding, but you couldn’t help but feel that sometimes they took it too far.

You saw the way they all looked at you, you noticed just how nervous you made them, but it wasn’t uncommon for humans to become unnecessarily attached to the ones feeding on them. It came with the intimacy of the relationship. Feeding was such an intense experience, they associated the source of their pleasure with the one giving it to them: you.

It happened with a lot of vampires and their suppliers, you’d witnessed it too many times. The human would get overly attached, often initiating romantic or sexual feelings.

But it wasn’t genuine. It wasn’t real.

Vampires were predators. They were designed to lure and ensnare their prey.

The only reason any of them felt anything towards you was because you could give them what they wanted. They weren’t attracted to you, they were attracted to all the chemicals your body was expelling in order to catch your food.

That was the only reason why seven men, all incredibly out of your league, would ever be interested in you.

It was never a good idea to be romantically involved with your supplier. Every vampire knew that. It was messy, complicated, and always ended badly. Plus, how could anybody ever feel good about themselves in a relationship where one half was only in it because they were practically hypnotized?

You shifted uncomfortably as Jimin started to writhe and wriggle in ecstasy. His hands gripped your thighs on either side of him and squeezed.

“P-Please...please, more—ah, more...”

He sounded so sweet and desperate that you just couldn’t say no to him.

Obliging his request, you did something you knew he liked: you grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged.

He practically squealed.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t a good idea, you thought. Now he’s only going to get more excited.

Then something really bad happened.

You felt a very prominent, very noticeable bulge against your crotch.

Oh, shit. I shouldn’t have sat on his lap.

Jimin grabbed your waist and started to grind his hips into yours.

“Mmm mmph...” He moaned. “Mm...Jagiya.”

You froze.

You knew they were from Korea despite them speaking perfect English. Some of them had started calling you “Noona,” and when you asked Jin about it he explained that it was an honorific. When you asked him about some other words in Korean, he told you. Jagiya was one of them.

You scrambled off Jimin’s lap. He stared at you with big, confused eyes that made him look like a puppy that had just been scolded.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Uh, nothing, I just have to...I have to do something.” You hurried towards the door and left him sitting there staring after you.

Fleeing to the safety of your bedroom, you slammed the door and leaned against it, sighing deeply with closed eyes.

What have I gotten myself into?

a/n: eh, like i said not the best chapter. it’s going to get better trust me! pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tell me what you think! what do you think will happen next? what kind of “complications” do you think our OC will encounter?

@rainbow-pandacorn @boononx @vannilacake

if you want to be tagged just let me know (✿◠‿◠)

#bts #bts vampire au #bts ot7 #bts fanfction #park jimin #jungkook #bts hosoek #bts jin #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #sub!bts #dom!bts #bts x oc

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bab-ybird · 5 years ago

Text

Drunk On You

I’m not drunk, just really tipsy

....you’re drunk, you mean

•

Pairing: Best Friend!Jaehyun x OC

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, contains slightly mature themes

In which Jaehyun needs a night of intoxication to realize his feelings and to act upon them.

•

“Jaemi, are you ready?”

The voice of my best friend echoes throughout our shared apartment. I take one last look at myself in the mirror, making sure I have everything I need on me, and rush out the door of my room.

“Yes, Jae, yes, I’m comi-“ Looking up, the sight of my best friend stops me in my tracks. He’s dressed in a smart casual outfit, just jeans, leather shoes, and a black, button-down, dress shirt. On any other guy, the outfit would be bland, mediocre even. Basic.

On Jaehyun, the outfit was capable of conquering a New York Fashion Week runway.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.” I blink, gathering myself and following him out the door. As we exit the apartment building, he tinkers with his phone, calling a cab to take us to a club in Hongdae, where our friend and fellow senior, Mingyu, would be celebrating his 23rd birthday. We wait patiently on the sidewalk, and when the cab comes to pick us up, Jaehyun opens the door for me, gesturing for me to get in. I do, greeting the driver as I settle down in my seat. Leaning against the car door, I tilt my head to look at my best friend.

Meet Jung Jaehyun- or Jung Yoonoh, when I was being serious with him. My full-time best friend and high-key closet crush for the past four years of our friendship.

We met in college, both freshmen at the time, both thrilled with the independence and freedom that came with dorm life. The one class we had in common was Contemporary Literature, and during the second week of class, I remember him asking to occupy the seat beside me. I’d nodded nonchalantly, not giving much thought to him- that was, until the professor called on him and he opened his mouth to read aloud the poem we were currently studying. His voice was beautiful, but what drew me in was the way he recited the poem with such emotion and precision, as if he had read it a hundred times prior to that moment.

When he sat back down, I’d immediately tapped his shoulder. What started out as me asking about poetry reading techniques, turned into study dates, and eventually, full-blown hangouts at each other’s dorm room. He became the person on the other end of my many late night conversations, and the one receiving my daily ‘good morning’s. He was always there for me, and I for him.

Soon enough, I was crushing on the gentleman.

The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment I started falling in love with him. It happened slowly, gradually. I remember suddenly feeling my heart soaring whenever his chivalrous side came out- which, admittedly, was all the time. Little things like holding the door open for me, asking if I had already eaten, and helping me carry my things when I was overloaded with baggage made my heartbeat race a hundred miles per hour.

Of course, my conservative self refused to accept that she would be so stupid as to have feelings for someone that thought of her as a best friend, a sister, even. I’d denied my feelings all throughout the year.

Then he’d started crushing on someone in his Political Science class. He’d come to me, all excited and flustered, his mouth blabbing about the girl that sat beside him and how they were partners for a project, which meant that they would be seeing each other much more often. My chest immediately felt heavy, and my fingers gripped my notebooks tight. I was jealous.

But being a supportive best friend, I plastered a smile unto my face and listened to him talk about her. Even if I was hurting, it was still endearing to see his eyes light up whenever he talked about something that made him happy.

I’d tried my best to move on, tried to accept that he’d never love me the way I wanted him to. I watch him now, typing away on his phone, grinning at whatever the other person is saying, and avert my gaze to the window when my chest swells at the sight of his smile. No matter how hard I tried, my feelings would always just be there.

“We’re here.” The driver announced, and we exit the car after paying the fare. I enter the club with him right behind me, and immediately, I’m enveloped in a bear hug.

“You made it!” A familiar voice cheers into my ear.

I grin as the person pulls away, coming face to face with a very well-dressed Bambam. “Good to see you, Bam.”

“Come on, Mingyu reserved a private room for us.”

Given Mingyu’s wide range of social circles, I’m surprised to find only a handful of people occupying the room. They seem to be his close friends, as I recognize them from whenever they hung out together around campus.

“Hey, Jaemi! Jaehyun!” Mingyu calls from his spot in between who I believe to be Jeonghan and Yugyeom. “Glad you could make it. Help yourselves!” With a wave of his arm, he gestures to the bar stationed at the left side of the room. I take the invitation, ordering a drink for myself after greeting him and sitting on an empty spot on the couch. Jaehyun sits beside me, followed by one of his friends, Seokmin.

After a couple hours of conversation, dancing, and drinks, my brain is hazy. My eyesight is slightly blurry, and there’s a thrum in my veins.

I return to the room after dancing with another friend of Mingyu’s, stumbling over my feet just the slightest bit. Trying to make my way to the couch, I bump into a hard body, feeling the person’s hands come up to hold me by my elbows, stabilizing me. I look up and recognize the brown eyes that stare back into mine, getting a giddy feeling in my chest.

“Jaehyun...” I mumble, a smile growing on my face.

“Are you drunk?” He slurs.

I laugh absentmindedly. “No, I’m not, I’m just really tipsy...”

“So you’re drunk.” He states hazily. Then he giggles uncharacteristically. “Me too.”

“Let’s sit, Jaemi.” He says. His footsteps are wobbly too, as we make our way to the couch. At the last second, he trips over nothing, and crashes down onto the couch, dragging me with him. We both burst out in a fit of giggles, laughing at nothing in particular. I shift to the side, sitting beside him with one leg draped over his. Our sides are touching, and he lays a hand on my knee, tracing random shapes on my bare skin. My head drops onto his shoulder. We remain in that position for a while, my heartbeat racing because of the alcohol and our incredibly close proximity. There are random exchanges of nonsense between us, things that only intoxicated minds can come up with. Probably not thinking clearly, I find myself cuddling into his side, burying my face in the crook of his neck. His touch is warm and comforting, and it calms me down a bit.

A sudden burst of bravery from the alcohol running through my veins gives me the courage to press a kiss to the base of his throat.

Jaehyun reacts instantly, looking down at me with curiosity pooling in his eyes. For a short moment, I stare back at him, admiring the way the dim lights fall onto his face, darkly illuminating his features. I close my eyes and grin goofily at him. “You’re beautiful, you know, Yoonoh-yah?”

And it happens too fast for my brain to process, but suddenly our lips are locked in a heated kiss. My eyes fly open in shock, only to close again because of the blissful feeling the physical contact brings. Even in my intoxicated state, years of pent-up emotions manage to come cascading down onto me, and my heart hurts that we’re only doing this because we’re drunk, and he probably still doesn’t see me in that light.

But I push the thought away. To hell with the negatives.

Jaehyun wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me on top of him so that my knees are planted on either side of his hips, the dark fabric of my dress riding further up my thighs. I straddle him, hands holding onto the back of the couch to support me. He holds onto my waist, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The feeling of his hands has me moaning into the kiss- it’s ecstasy to me.

I don’t know how much time we spend making out, but eventually, bottles of water are being passed to me by my friend, Jihoon, who is only sober because of his allergy to alcohol. Always the designated caretaker, he helps me ingest at least two bottles of water, and the copious amount of liquid intake for the night has me stumbling into the bathroom to relieve myself of it all.

I thank Jihoon for taking care of me before I leave, as he helped me sober up enough to make it back to my apartment. Making a mental note to thank Mingyu the next day, I manage to call a cab to bring Jaehyun and I home.

He’s sobered up a bit as well, though not as much as I have, and it takes me a minimal amount of effort to get him into bed. I clean up as much as I can, and just as I’m about to close my bedroom door, I hear Jaehyun call out for me from his room. In an oversized shirt and sleeping shorts, I walk over to his room and see him motioning for me to come closer. Plopping down on the edge of the bed, I rub at my face sleepily.

“What is it, Jaehyun? I’m tired, I want to sleep.”

No response. I look up, and he’s staring at me. Then he holds his hand out to me, as if asking me to take it. I do, and he pulls me to him. Crawling on the bed to come sit on my heels beside his form, I don’t expect for him to suddenly pull me even closer and press a kiss to my lips. He means for it to be quick, I can tell because he pulls away almost instantly, but I follow his movement to keep our lips together. We kiss until we both run out of breath, then he lifts his blanket and offers me the space beside him.

“Stay.” He whispers, eyes swimming with an emotion I can’t distinguish in my partially intoxicated state, face gentle and inviting.

My heart soars for the nth time that night.

I stay.

~~~

Morning comes quickly- too quickly for my liking, and I know when I wake up, that I have to leave my best friend’s warm embrace soon.

But I stay still, pretending to be asleep, because no matter how much it scares me that this would ruin the amazing friendship we had, it was also an extremely rare occurrence. For the first time in my life, I allow my heart to choose, just to enjoy the moment. I turn to snuggle into Jaehyun’s clothed chest more, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Psst. Jaemi.” My best friend’s chest rumbles as he speaks, moments later. I hum in response, feeling his toned body flex beneath the fabric of his shirt under my fingers as he shifts under the sheets.

“Hm?”

“I’m hungry, and my head hurts. Let’s get brunch.”

“Sure.”

~~~

The smell of waffles, bacon, and other breakfast foods invade my senses. Jaehyun and I are currently sitting at our favorite breakfast place, munching away at our shared plates.

Jaehyun’s phone dings from under the table, and he pauses eating to check it. I’m about to fork some roasted potatoes into my mouth when I see him freeze and his eyes widen by a fraction.

“What is it?” I ask automatically.

He looks me in the eye and shows me his phone screen. Displayed there is a photo of us last night, me holding myself up on top of him with his hands on my waist as we engaged in a passionate lip lock.

I bite my lip, my breath hitching.

“I think we need to talk about that.” Jaehyun mumbles, withdrawing his phone and setting it facedown on the table. I nod, but don’t bother initiating the discussion- I didn’t know how he read it and I didn’t want to assume anything.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that...” he breaks out into this basic monologue that all guys give when they think nothing of all the intimacy that happened the previous night. He’s looking everywhere else except at me, and his voice is an entirely different Jaehyun. Tiny and insecure.

“Okay.” I bite my lip, not realizing that disappointment was evidently displayed on my face. I let out a shaky breath, willing myself to calm down- but even after all this time, it still breaks my heart that he thinks of me as nothing more than his best friend.

“It was extremely wrong of me to take advantage of you like that, especially since you were drunk...”

With the second burst of courage within 24 hours, I cut him off. “You can’t take advantage of the willing, Jaehyun.”

Avoiding eye contact, I pick up my utensils to resume eating my meal, when Jaehyun reaches out, lightly touching my fingers. My eyes flick up to meet his, and I can tell he’s been reading my features and body language, analyzing my behavior.

As expected from a Psychology major.

“Wait, do you-“

I narrow my eyes, frowning a bit. “What?” It comes out rather sharp, defensive.

“Do you..like me?”

The word ‘yes’ is stuck in my throat, yearning to break free. But I use all my self control to prevent myself from speaking.

“Because, if you do, then that’s an entirely different situation...” he mumbles, unsure. He looks defeated, unknowing of what to do and of how to act, so I give in.

“I’ve always liked you, Jaehyun.” My voice is soft, fragile.

My hand drops the fork it’s holding because it’s suddenly enveloped by his.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He pries gently.

His eyes are gentle, inviting. They’re home for me, and in that moment, I want to tell him everything. What leaves my mouth is a filtered answer.

“I convinced myself that you never really looked at me as anything more than your best friend. I was happy being your best friend, even if it hurt.” My eyes fall to my plate as I speak, fingers nervously fidgeting with the lacy table cloth.

His thumb rubs the back of my hand, before letting go and picking up his own utensils. I look up to see a small smile on his face.

“Are you busy tonight?”

My mouth opens to answer him no, but he cuts me off. “Nevermind. Don’t answer that. You are busy tonight, because I’m taking you out.” He forks a piece of waffle into his mouth, flashing me a goofy grin.

Heart soaring, I mirror it with a smile of my own.

~~~

Dates with Jaehyun were not so different from our usual hangouts. We did what we normally did as best friends, except with a lot more handholding and physical affection. I remember lining up for milk tea and Jaehyun wrapping an arm around my shoulders when the female barista had started flirting with him.

Swoon.

It’s 8pm and we’re walking along Han River after seeing a movie and playing at the arcade, milk teas in one hand and our free hands enclasped in between us. The sounds of the city are distant across the water, and what occupies my senses are the smells and sounds of the calm river.

We find a ledge to sit on, our feet dangling from the height of it. There’s a good amount of space in between us, and we sip the last bits of our drinks in silence.

It’s only later on that we speak again.

“Remember in our freshman year, when you went to this party with that guy from the debate team?” Jaehyun brings up randomly. I flip my hair over my shoulder to look at him, finding that he was already watching me with his warm, brown eyes.

“Yeah?”

He smiles bitterly. “Do you remember what an asshole he was?”

I fall silent at the unpleasant memory. I’d forgotten about that bit.

“I remember finding you sitting in the corner, staring down at your hands with the saddest look on your face. No matter how hard you tried to smile and convince everyone that you were okay, I knew you weren’t. I’d never wanted to hurt anyone as much as I did that day.” His voice is laced with the tone of aged anger, one that told me he had moved on, but still regretted everything that happened. “It’s times like that that make me wish I’d taken you myself.”

“Why didn’t you?” I ask, voice soft.

The corner of his lips tug up in a sad smirk. “Don’t know, don’t remember. Maybe I was with some other guys from the fraternity that was hosting, but I regret it. I should’ve stayed with you the entire night and never let him near you.”

I rub the back of his hand with my thumb. “Forget about it. It’s the past.”

He nods. “I know. I just wanted to get it out.”

I smile. “You’re sweet, you know.”

Jaehyun flashes me a grin that makes my stomach do cartwheels. I return it.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Kiss me.” I say plainly.

“Is it not obvious?”

I roll my eyes. “It would’ve been if you weren’t drunk.”

He nods. “Fair point.”

Silence falls again.

“So, why?” I press.

“Because I like you.”

I should’ve expected it, but I’m caught off guard with his nonchalant confession. “Really?”

“No.” He reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “I love you.”

My eyes search his to find that he means every word.

“I’ve always loved you, as a sister, as a best friend. It was only recently that I realized I loved you in a different way. As a woman.” He tells me, eyes never leaving mine. My chest is bursting with emotion. “I just never did anything because you never seemed to feel the same way.”

I grimace. “That’s partially my fault.”

He tilts his head questioningly. “How?”

“You’re my best friend, you know that my way of dealing with feelings is hiding them. It’s a self-preservation technique that I developed- maybe also the reason why I never dated.” I shrug.

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I think that you never dated because you never found a guy who would make the effort to understand how you work, who would wait for you to open up and be comfortable. You never found anyone who was willing to climb the walls you built around yourself, who was willing to give you the time of day.” I bite my lip and shift my eyes to the ground.

I feel his finger on my chin, tilting my head up so I could look at him properly.

“Or maybe you just never realized that you’ve been best friends with that guy for a while now, and that he’s madly in love with you.” He tells me truthfully, and I feel the emotion with how he says his words. Ever the great speaker- the very reason I decided to talk to him in the first place.

Despite the overwhelming amount of emotion I feel in my chest, I manage to crack a small smile. “Just a while?”

He chuckles, his eyes growing smaller. “Yeah, just a few four years of our lives.”

His gaze falls on my lips, and he swallows visibly. “Can I-“

Jaehyun never gets to finish his sentence because I close my eyes and kiss him before I lose the courage to. He kisses me back immediately, fingers leaving my chin and moving to the side of my neck, holding me in place. My chest swells, even though the physical contact is kept to a minimum. I find myself smiling into the kiss, and when I run out of air, I pull away. My eyes find Jaehyun’s instantly, and there’s a twinkle in them because he’s so happy.

His lips break out into the biggest smile I’d ever seen him wear, and he leans in again to plant a kiss on my forehead. Jaehyun doesn’t pull away and leans his forehead onto mine instead. My chest feels hot and I have a giddy smile plastered on my face.

“Found you.”

#nct #kpop #seventeen #friends to lovers #best friend!jaehyun #mingyu #bambam #jihoon #fluff #college #nct 127 #neo culture technology #got7 #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #best friends to lovers #best friends #friends

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meditationadvise · 5 years ago

Text

Are You Making Space for the Sacred?

I have actually never made a church prior to. A number of my innovative and spiritual buddies design edges of their houses to motivate them. I like seeing their meditation stations. They have actually gathered such interesting objects to show their dreams as well as petitions-- rock elephants, jade statuaries, delicate headscarfs and discolored pictures. I such as being in their rooms.

Being deeply curious concerning others, I'm always thrilled and also a little shocked that I'm enabled right into these external representations of their minds. I'll ring their chimes and also put my fingertips in their scent ash. I go residence as well as envision what my suitable nook may look like, make a couple of weak initiatives, and eventual choose that I am a lot also much of a minimal for even a divine collection.

For a while, I was envious of individuals that produced intricate vision boards and had the knack for instilling objects with meaning. I have not constantly been the type of person that obtains a thrill from tossing things out. As a teenager, there had not been a blank area on my walls. Also my closet doors were covered in Mary Engelbreit images. I had tables and bookshelves ladened with dried flowers, stuffed toys, and also souvenirs.

Under my bed, I stowed away redecorated tea and stogie boxes loaded with paper strips baring motivational quotes. I started to really feel suffocated by my personal history. I donated or trashed everything up until I had a single box of tokens. I even tossed out years of journals-- their spiral bindings slicing through the plastic garbage bags.

Ever because university, when people come to visit me, they ask where all my sh * t is. They have a difficult time believing that just what they see in my space is all that I own. I am not Spartan. I satisfaction myself on having plants, mirrors, and just enough touches to make a space feel complete. Still, a sacred room to me is a void-- a time out, a breath of fresh air, or the flawlessly arranged disorder of nature.

I met a young female lately who is a wanderer. In fact, she has a residence that she rents out to pay for her travels, however, for all intents as well as objectives she has no area to call her very own.

I wish to be a wanderer. One of the most outstanding exploration traveling provides us is the awareness that we can belong nearly anywhere.

When I arrive in a new area, I assume to myself that I might reside in this home, walk to this store, being in this park, as well as write in this coffee shop. I could imagine a million various lives, a million different off-shoots of the existing me. If we are truthful with ourselves, we are at residence all over and also nowhere.

The exact same holds true of other individuals. I uncover people anywhere whom I know I can enjoy. When I stroll about in a place of awareness, I am always struck by exactly how the upper class are-- a woman with wild grey hair surrounded by her 4 kids in the grocery shop, a boy on the aircraft with a void between his teeth, the checker with her nose ring as well as haircut, and the beard male in a tweed blazer.

As we deal with our day, our stories intersect with so numerous other tale lines as we crisscross each others' paths. The constant buzzing in our very own heads keeps up the impression that we are different. We remain concentrated on individuals with whom we really feel some sense of possession. The people who appear to sweep in and out of our lives do not register as having value to us. They are not ours so we are not interested.

When I was backpacking across Europe (the closest I've ever obtained to nomad standing), we remained in a hostel in Madrid that promoted a cost-free breakfast.

Breakfast became a container of Nutella, a loaf of bread, a toaster oven, a box of tea, and also exactly 3 mugs. Students from around the world gathered in the kitchen area rinsing as well as passing the mugs as we all explored the Nutella. The combination of exhaustion and language obstacles indicated we really did not talk much however this is still among my favorite memories. We merely stood around sharing space.

This may be a weird confession for an author, yet words do fall short.

In middle college, I had the entire New Testament on tape. Our church experienced a stage of offering these collections, and being a life-long type-An individual, I laid out making myself a much better individual through learning. I rode my bike around the block while periodically quiting to flip over the tape in my Walkman. After all that study, I still really felt closest to God while in our backyard.

My family's backyard has actually always been a mingled mess of my dad's efforts at playground, veggie gardens, and also various other landscape design ventures. As my brother showed himself flips on the trampoline, I walked around as well as around a tree concealed behind the residence. I tipped from rock to rock in the ring noting our substantial animal cemetery. I pictured each cherished creature decomposing in a shoebox-- the brilliant green scales of my iguana, the bent shell-like beak as well as blue plumes of my brother's bird, and the delicate skeletons of guinea pigs. Some evenings, as the streetlights flicker on in the violet sundown, my mind went blank. For a minute, I not been afraid shedding my form to development, change, and also death.

Reflecting on youth memories, I start to understand that the information of sacred rooms are not as vital as the permission they give us to ruminate.

This is why I hate texting. Real interaction takes place between the words. Words "hahaha" will never resemble the tones in somebody's laughter or the sheer pleasure you experience when sharing that moment of launch with them.

Texting as well as immediate messaging constantly make me feel like I'm being packed right into someone's day like I am simply one even more point they're multitasking between laundry and also TiVo. Speaking on the phone isn't a lot better. I require to see an individual's face as well as review their body movement however most importantly I just wish to use up room with them. I'm stressed with veranda chairs, hammocks, fireplaces, open roadways, and sundown walks.

As a child as well as a teen, I invested long hours lying on the carpet with buddies. Adults really feel the should plan a meal or occasion or a minimum of transform on the TELEVISION when guest more than. I question how odd people would certainly locate me if I asked them to find and lie on the carpet with me currently. Or if I invited a lots of people right into my kitchen area and also used just a few cups and also a jar of Nutella. Or if I stopped strangers in the roads with bizarrely in-depth praises-- tiny poems about their inherent elegance-- and after that left.

We can get so caught up in the features, the information, the structure of alters, the planning of dates, the consistent chatter of instantaneous connection, and the mission for possession that we forget making space.

Don' t put it on your order of business. Do not berate on your own for refraining it right. Don't scamper to reserve some time at a lakeside cabin. Simply discover the minutes of peaceful and also gently extend them. Give right into the impulse to stick around. The yards I liked the most were disregarded and disorderly. They advised me that elegance happens normally as well as requires no control or preparation. All it needs is room to sprout, expand, blossom, pass away, and degeneration-- over and also over again.

#meditation #spiritual #what is meditation

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brokenbones-tellstories · 6 years ago

Text

I’m bored.

1. What have you eaten today?

Brown sugar cinnamon pop tarts, a fruit roll up, Fritos, shrimp fettuccine Alfredo, a lavender latte , stuffed bell peppers, chocolate milk, water.

2. Who was your last kiss with? Was it pleasant?

Andrew. I guess. I honestly don’t prefer kisses.

3. What color shoes did you last wear?

Maroon and white!

4. Who has made you laugh the hardest in the last week? Twin. We were crying in the car after Peter Pan because we were laughing so hard.

5. What is your favorite scent? It’s between the flannel candle or the original scent candle from White Barn. I also really like Irish springs soap. It smells like my dad ☺️

6. What is your favorite season? Why?

Maybe winter will be more my season...

7. Can you do a handstand or cartwheel?

I can do both!

8. What color are your nails?

I’m not allowed to paint them anymore because I live that Barista life.

9. If you had to get a tattoo on your face to save your life, what would it be? A freckle.

10. What is something you find romantic?

Oh, there’s so many things. I can’t even begin to describe… little things. Small moments. Surprising me with things you know I’ll fall in love with or have wanted for a very long time but don’t often speak of.

11. Are you happy? Happiness is fleeting.

12. Is there anything in particular making you happy or sad? I’m incredibly happy and very loved and a very busy woman. But, I’m also super tired and worn out and something has to give soon...

13. Dogs or Cats? I adore both, but I want a puppy.

15. Which do you prefer: a museum, a night club, the forest or a library? Depends on my mood. I have no desire to go to a club.

15. What is your style?

Slightly disheveled, can’t remember the last time I washed my jeans. Hair is in a pony tail 98% of the time. Makeup is a rare treat as I don’t have much time for it, always covered in mocha or frappuccino roast andI always smell faintly of espresso. But! Should I be blessed with a day off, my makeup is gorgeous and I’m usually always in a pair of skinny jeans with the ankles rolled up, wearing some form of sweater or jean jacket, or button down shirt, and I’m either wearing boots, converse, or adidas tennis shoes. My hair is shoulder length and mostly straight. Sometimes wavy. Just depends. I like dressing in layers. Lots of layers.

16. If you could be doing anything you like right now, what would it be? I’m doing exactly what I wanna be. I’m in bed and I’m warm.

17. Are you in a relationship or single? Engaged 🤷🏻‍♀️

18. What makes you attracted to the person you like right now? So very many things.

19. If you could replace your partner/best friend with a celebrity of your choice, would you? Who with? He looks SO MUCH LIKE HOOK FROM ONCE UPON A TIME.

20. Are you holding on to something you need to let go of? If so then what? Hahahaha hahah haha ha

21. How did you celebrate last Halloween? I came Home from work around 7:00 pm and layers in my bed and cried because I would only sleep in my room for another 5 nights before I said goodbye to that house forever.

22. Have you recently made any big decisions?

I’m buying a new car soon.

23. Were you ever in a school play?

Quite a few!

24. What movie would you use to describe your life? The Perks of Being a Wallflower is the closet thing I can think of

25. Is there something you have dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it? Yeah meeting a friend. We’ve tried and something always goes wrong.

26. Complete this sentence, “I wish I had someone with whom I could share…” I have everyone I wish I could share anything with.

27. What are two things that irritate you about the same sex? Women are paranoid and overdramatic.

28. What are two things that irritate you about the opposite sex? I’ve found with most that they don’t know when to stop or take no for an answer.

29. What is the best thing that has happened to you this week? I got to do my homework outside in the pretty weather.

30. What is something that makes you sad when you think about it? There’s a whole list of things. Right now I’m coping with a lot that I can’t actually talk about here.

31. How long was your longest relationship?

It’s still going. 2 (unbroken/straight) years

32. Have you ever been in love? I still am.

33. Are you currently in love? Yes.

34. Why did your last relationship end? Incompatibility. Trust issues. Anger issues. Emotional abuse. Physical abuse. Lack of respect. Habits I couldn’t live with. Etc.

35. What jewelry are you wearing right now, and where did you get it? Uh well. An engagement ring. A Lokai bracelet. A bracelet that says “Tetelestai” (it is finished), flower crystal earrings, a cartilage earring, and a gold necklace that says “dance in the rain” from my mom.

36. When was the last time you cried and why? I cried yesterday out of hurt, and guilt.

37. Name someone pretty. Twin.

38. What did you receive last Valentines Day? Chicken nuggets and chocolate.

39. Do you get jealous easily? Usually, no.

40. Have you ever been cheated on? I don’t think I have. I hope to God I’m not wrong.

41. Do you trust your partner/best friend? With my life.

42. Ever had detention? Once or twice.

43. Would you rather live in the countryside or the city? City.

44. What do people call you? Sierrah, Dr. Watson, Twin, Scooter, Dear, Watson, Sarah, Savannah, Sissy, Daughter, Girl Child, Fresca, Sierra Mist, Sierra Nevada… you name it. I will respond to just about anything.

45. What was the last book you read? Everybody Always

46. How big of a nerd/dork are you? As far as books and Harry Potter goes….I’m a pretty big nerd.

47. What kind of music do you listen to? I have a very eclectic taste. So long as it’s not the rap crap that’s on the radio today and screamo/death metal.

48. How tall are you? 5′ 4″

49. Do you like kids? Absolutely adore them

50. Favorite fruits? Watermelon, cantaloupe, Kiwi, grapes

51. Do you wear jeans or sweats more? Jeans

52. What’s your earliest memory? I don’t know if it’s technically my earliest, but I remember laying in one of those pack and play cribs in the foyer/hall of my granny Watson’s house when I was very small. I distinctly remember the hollow hum of the air conditioning coming through the vents of the house….

53. Ever had a poem or song written about you or to you? quite a few… “Begin Again”

54. Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Both

55. Do you have a collection of anything? Books! I also have started collecting the Harry Potter Funko Pop characters (they’re adorable) and I have quite a few miniature figurines of grand pianos.

56. Do you save money or spend it? I save money and blow it all on traveling.

57. What would your dream house be like? I know for a fact I want dark hardwood floors and windows everywhere. I love light. Aside from that, there’s so many possibilities and so many different ways I want to decorate. It just depends on the space.

58. What top 5 things make you the angriest? People who lie, people who question my intentions and integrity, people who treat those of us in retail like we’re the scum of the earth, people who don’t know when to stop, and people with narcissistic attitudes or superiority complexes. Oh and people who don’t stand up for themselves.

59. What top 5 things always brings a smile to your face? Puppies, traveling, music, a good cup of coffee, my best friends,

60. You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do? Save the dog, I have so much experience I can just go work at another coffee shop.

61. 72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid? It all depends on where I’m at in life. I imagine at 72 I’d have done mostly everything, if not all of the things I currently want to do before I die. I also like to think that I’d tell someone, but I may not for a little while. I’m not afraid of dying, I’m just afraid of what comes after.

62. Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart. The organ that’s keeping me alive.

63. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? There’s a place in Sweden I REALLY want to visit.

64. Do you like the beach? Yes

65. Ever sleep on the couch or a bed with someone special? Many times.

66. Do you have a middle name? If so what is it! Marie.

67. Do you talk to yourself? All the time. Alllllll the time.

68. Describe your hair. Medium length, super soft, a deep copper red color with light copper/blonde highlights (It’s a faded version of the dark red with bright red highlights I had a few months ago) it’s also really straight, a few layers to frame my face, bangs that fall just below my eyebrows…

69. What is the meaning of life. If we all knew the meaning of life it would take the wonder out of living. As much as I’d like to know what it’s all for, I think that half the fun is in not knowing. Ask me this again when I’m 80 or something.

70. What is your ideal partner like? My best friend.

71. Do you want to get married? Yes

72. Do you want to have kids? I want two. Boy and a girl. Anastasia and Alexander 💙

73. Like or dislike your family? Depends on which part of the family. I like some, hate some, tolerate others…

74. Are you Chunky or Slim? I’m pretty tiny.

75. Would you consider yourself smart? Yes.

76. What would you change about your life? Not a damn thing.

77. Religious or Not? I hate religion, but I am a follower of Jesus

78. You’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with? Most likely Twin.

79. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem? Nope

80. Does anyone regularly (other than family) tell you they love you? quite a few people. I am very loved.

81. If the person you wish to be with were with you, what would you be doing right now? Honestly we’d probably both be asleep.

82. So, the last person you kissed just happens to arrive at your door at 3AM; do you let them in? I mean. It’s his house.

83. Do you like when people play with your hair? Yesssss. It’s one of the best things.

84. Do you like bubble baths? I take one nearly every day.

85. Have you ever been pulled over by a cop? just once.

86. Have you ever danced in the rain? multiple times

87. Do you trust anyone with your life? Just a couple of people

88. What was your first thought when you woke up this morning? READ THAT BOOK.

89. If money wasn’t an issue, what top 10 places would you travel to? (You get to stay at each place for a week) 1. Australia 2. Ireland 3. Sweden. 4. Germany 5. Seattle, Washington 6. California 7. Japan 8. Alaska to see the northern lights 9. Somewhere that I could see the entire milky way galaxy at night 10. the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

90. How was your day today? It was good!

91. Play an instrument? I can play a little piano.

92. Describe the what you think of the ocean. I think it’s beautiful. It brings peace. Helps me reset.

93. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? I definitely believe in ghosts. I’m undecided about aliens

94. Honestly, are things how you wanted them to be? No, but that’s how life goes.

95. Do you have a mean bitchy scary side? Who doesn’t?

96. When are you vulnerable? In many different situations. I think I allow myself to be most vulnerable and unguarded around twin and my mom than anyone.

97. How much free time do you have? Right now, more than I could ask for. Next week….none.

98. Do you like to go hiking? I do it quite a lot in the warmer months of the year.

99. Odd or Even Numbers? they’re all numbers to me.

100. Would you ever go sky diving, bungee jumping , cliff diving, wing suit gliding, parasailing, snorkeling, or other extreme activities? I would do every single one of those and more.

0 notes

perpetually-jungshook · 8 years ago

Text

SorryNotSorry

(How to Change a Fuqboi- between the lines)

Word Count: 2.1k

Request: @baekinacupoftae

Ok so I’ve read the fboi series… THEY WERE LIT despite being frustrating bc why the cliffhangers? u make me wanna cri. Nah, jk. But if you do have time, a sequel/closure would be nice. Only if you want to :) *whispers (especially Taehyung’s)

A/N: So! I have officially made a fan theory for my own story! Does that make me conceited? 🤔 or just a proud author? 😂 Haha~ This story comes from an “all one main character” timeline/theory for the Fuqboi series. I also included Jackson cuz why not? 😉 enjoy and as always, make sure to pay attention to details 💖

The light sprinkle of spring rain had ceased a few hours ago, but the damp smell still floats into your olfactory system with a vengeance, especially as you walk out of the department store for the last time, clutching your coat tighter around your frame. Thankfully, Namjoon hadn’t been scheduled to work today, so you were able to clean out your locker in peace.

Submitting your two weeks notice had been easier than you thought, especially with the excuse of “I’ve decided to focus on school” sitting on the tip of your tongue. It wasn’t a lie. You’ll be transferring to a different university this fall, but now you’re completely free.

Free to do what? Besides spend more time on campus, you aren’t exactly sure. Forget Namjoon? Yes. And his petty, disgusting denial of his true, selfish identity. Forget Yoongi? Yes. He was only a one time mistake you made because you were so desperate to get away from…

Taehyung.

The name sends a wave of nausea through you, forcing your body to double over as you reach your car. You swallow hard around the urge to dry heave, refusing to cry. Still, the memory strikes you hard like a punch.

You tapped your pencil against the surface of your desk, trying to concentrate.

Annotating poems was one of your least favorite things, but your literature class demanded it, so annotate you would. Maybe.

The loud buzz of the dryer gave you just the excuse you needed to abandon the task momentarily. With too much enthusiasm, you emptied it of its contents, suddenly deciding that pristinely folded clothes were a top priority.

This load of laundry had been a mix of yours and Tae’s. The two of you shared a hamper, after all, and the duty to empty it out often fell on you- not that you minded. Living at his parents’ house rent free was compensation enough.

As you made your way through the pleasantly warm pile, something unexpected made you stop.

A pair of lacy red panties.

They definitely weren’t yours, and this observation began the chronic downward spiral. Where did they come from? Taehyung? He couldn’t have…? Not again. Could he? Even after MONTHS of being faithful? Usually you tried to classify these thoughts as benign, unjustified unease. But this time, THIS TIME, you had something solid, tangible evidence to ignite your anxiety.

You hadn’t caught Taehyung cheating for months. You barely even saw him LOOK at other girls since the compromise. But this? The underwear of another girl?

Anger flared in your system just in time for the front door to open. You could hear it along with his deep voice, which called out, seeking you, “Baby, I’m home. How’s the homework? Will you be done soon or do you want to…?”

His question trailed off as he found you in the living room, pinching the article of clothing in question like it was a creature about to bite, yet also an object so fragile that it would shatter with the slightest movement.

Taehyung’s boxy smile immediately dropped when he saw the expression on your face.

“Baby, that’s not…” he started, but you raised your hand to cut him off.

“Please don’t speak to me right now.”

“But I didn’t-”

You placed the underwear down on top of his pile of clothes, shaking your head, “I gave it everything I had, Tae.”

“I don’t know-”

He seemed genuinely perplexed, but something inside of you had already broken.

“I just… need to leave,” your voice sounded hollow even to your ears.

“I don’t know where those came from,” he blurted, raking his fingers through his hair as the severity of what you said dawned on him. “Really, honest to god. Are you sure they aren’t yours?”

You didn’t even take the time to respond, picking up your pile of clothes to go to your room. Following, but giving you a few steps of space as if he wouldn’t dare CHANCE touching you, Taehyung started rambling.

“They could be my mom’s,” he offered desperately, voice cracking as you began sifting through your closet and drawers, starting a small pile on the bed. “I- I haven’t done anything. I promise- I SWEAR.”

You wanted to listen to him, to hope, to forgive, but you COULDN’T. Whether or not any of what he said was true, whether or not he HAD actually cheated again… you were done. You had given him everything. Your time, your heart, and later with the compromise, your virginity. Yet none of that could heal the wound of mistrust he’d inflicted. He’d made you feel cheap, like a slut, an enabler who knew her boyfriend had a history of sleeping around but STAYED ANYWAY.

So you had to do it. You HAD to leave. The waiting, the wondering, it was all too much. You couldn’t trust him, no matter how much you thought he loved you. Or worse, no matter how much you thought you loved him.

That had been half a year ago.

You take a few deep breaths, steadying yourself before climbing into the driver’s seat. Your fingers find your phone and dial the first recently called number.

Jackson picks up on the second ring, “Dude, I’m a little busy?”

“Sorry,” you sigh, resting your head against the steering wheel. “I just wanted to make sure you left the door unlocked.”

“Oh,” he clears his throat, “I MIGHT have forgotten… But I’ll be home in like twenty minutes, okay?”

Seven months and he still hasn’t found the spare key.

Living with Jackson had been third on your list of preferences, but it beat other options like staying at home or at Taehyung’s. Jisoo, your first choice, already has five people living in an apartment clearly meant to comfortably fit one. And Chaeyoung’s parents hate you for reasons you suspected have everything to do with her constant complaining to them about your “toxic” relationships.

So here you are, crashing in a two bedroom condo with your “third” best friend.

Needless to say, you don’t really get out much.

You pull up to the curb, lucky to find a parking spot in this mess of a complex, and with heavy limbs, practically drag yourself to the correct door just as Jackson’s shiny black truck haphazardly screeches to a halt. He tumbles out of it to sprint toward you, key raised like an Olympic torch.

Judging by the redness of his eyes, he’s either high or drunk, but this isn’t anything new.

“I got it! I got it,” he stumbles up the few steps before shoving the key into your palm. You can suddenly smell the alcohol on his breath. “There. No harm no foul.”

“Thanks, Jackson,” you sigh, giving him an awkward pat on his ridiculously muscly shoulder. “I’m glad you got someone to drive you here too.”

“Oh right,” he spins on his heel, abruptly yelling at the driver, “Just park it anywhere.”

You watch the truck lurch forward and roll down the street at an unsteady pace. Unsure what to make of it, you shrug and unlock the door, letting Jackson stumble in first, massive smile spreading across his lips.

“So, Namjoon or no?”

The name sends a prickle of irritation through you, “No.”

“Dude, I’m telling you. You should’ve just asked him to fuck.”

An angry blush colors your cheeks, “I didn’t WANT to fuck him.”

“Right, you had Yoongi for that.”

And this is why you don’t want to live with Jackson.

Despite the comfortably warm temperature, you suppress a shiver, namely because you know he’s right. Yoongi was just the consolation prize for the gap that Taehyung had left in your heart and Namjoon was the desperate attempt to fix your self image. Even so, you’d prefer not to think about it.

“Will you STOP?” you huff, throwing the keys onto the small table near the door.

“Sorry,” he cackles, giving your arm a humorous punch that (probably unintentionally) HURTS. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave you to your stupid books.”

Sometimes you swear that if you hadn’t been friends with him since before he turned into a grossly typical “bad boy” in high school, you would’ve never spoken to him in the first place.

Still, at least he wasn’t a fuckboy.

“Wait, want a cig?” Jackson offers as he pulls the pack from his shirt pocket, flannel buttons off by one near the middle.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

“Eh, someday you’ll try it.”

You trek down the hallway to your room- well, less “your room” than Jackson’s storage closet that happens to have a bed in it. Walking around stacks of papers, boxes, and other random CRAP, you throw yourself down on the mattress, letting your book bag drop to the floor.

What you wouldn’t give for one of Taehyung’s thermoses full of homemade noodles.

Your heart aches.

Flipping open one of your textbooks to distract yourself, you stare blankly at the words, eyes skimming across them but brain absorbing none. You decide to give up as soon as you hear the front door open and an unfamiliar voice saying, “I left the truck in the parking lot down the street near the liquor store. There weren’t any spots open.”

“Did you hit anything?” Jackson asks in his easily identifiable slightly raspy voice.

“I may or may not have backed into a shopping cart…”

It isn’t unusual for one of you to have friends over. What IS strange is the fact that you have no idea who is speaking. Your friend circle is very small, consisting of Jackson, Jisoo, and Chaeyoung. Your housemate has a few regulars that frequently stop by too, Mark, Jaebum, and some guy they call Bambam- who you’ve always suspected is their weed dealer.

This voice is too soft to be Jaebum, he’s too talkative to be Mark, and Bambam never stops by unless all three are in the house. This leaves mystery guy peaking your interest.

You abandon your textbook, slipping off of the bed.

“Dude really? You backed Marci into a SHOPPING CART?”

“Marci?”

“My baby, my ride, MY BEAUTIFUL TRUCK.”

“Jackson, chill.”

“DON’T TELL ME TO CHILL.”

Classic Jackson, screaming, but not actually upset.

“Why did I let someone drive who doesn’t have a license?”

You stop in the hallway, leaning against one of the walls, content with observing. The boy with Jackson is beautiful to say the least. Smooth features, hair pulled up in a snapback, kissable lips, dark eyes, killer smirk-

Smirk?

That’s when you realize you’ve been staring… and he’s been staring RIGHT BACK.

A blush floods your cheeks, but you decide that because you’ve already been caught in the act, there’s no point in trying to hide yourself.

“You MADE me drive because I wouldn’t let you leave intoxicated,” the boy says, amused, but not breaking eye contact with you. Oh no. He’s hot and he KNOWS it.

“Ah, that’s right,” Jackson nods, tapping his finger to his forehead, big grin plastered all over his flushed face. “I’m so smart and responsible.”

You decide to not remind your friend that the reason he’d had to leave the party was because he failed to unlock the door.

“Definitely…” mystery guy trails off before clearing his throat. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.”

“That’s cuz I don’t,” Jackson laughs, glancing over his shoulder to follow the boy’s gaze. “She’s just a good friend who needed a place to live.”

Sometimes, you loved Jackson’s obliviousness. Other times, it bothered you immensely. Why wouldn’t he introduce you formally?

Mystery guy’s kissable lips form into a small “o,” and he cocks his head slightly, finally letting his gaze wander away from your eyes- only to explore the REST of your body. Heat shoots straight down to the pit of your stomach, making your legs weak.

Jackson seems to get momentarily confused, then scoffs, “When you’re done eye-fucking her, let me know and we can go get food.”

Unabashed, the boy nods, “Sure thing.”

Your friend wanders past you toward his room, letting the door close behind him and leaving you alone with mystery guy. Something pinches your throat, slowing time to a hazy halt, each breath teetering on the edge of possibility. The tension in the air is palpable and with each step he takes toward you, a pleasantly uncomfortable knot in your stomach tightens.

For a moment, you forget Namjoon, Yoongi, and…Taehyung.

He stops only two steps away, catching your hand in his to bring it up to his lips with another terribly beautiful smirk.

He kisses the knuckle of your middle finger gently, voice dropping to a whisper, “Well hello there, love. I’m Jimin. Who might you be?”

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

EOPQ 12: So in what order (chronologically) do the Volumes occur? Think you can piece it together? 😉

Send me your thoughts/answers here. Or just come say hi ;) Please include the End of Post Question number upon submission, thank you!

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parkhabits · 8 years ago

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A Promise to Keep {Part 2}

Jaebum x OC x {Jinyoung feels} Warning: grieving Genre: Fluff/angst Previous Chapter

The sun shined brightly on her face, the light illuminating through her hair as she danced along the shoreline. The tides of the ocean rippling around her ankles, she admired the blanket of ocean blue as seagulls squabbled above her. It was evening and the sun was setting, the last of the beach goers were packing up and heading home. The scent of the Caribbean Sea filled the air as she inhaled, drawing in the last rays of the sun.

Jinyoung stood on the beach, his hands in the pockets of his shorts as he watched his newlywed wife. The backdrop of the sun setting over the ocean and her standing there was breathtakingly beautiful to him. She turned around to face him, crooking her finger towards him and signaled for him to come over. Jinyoung walked over, the waves crashing against his ankles, grasping her hands in his,he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought the kiss deeper, loving the warmth that flowed through her body as his lips moved against hers. When they pulled away he brushed her sea swept hair away from her face.

“Come on Mrs. Park, let’s get ready for dinner” a sense of satisfaction washing over him.

“Mrs. Park” she ruminated as she looked into his eyes, tingles curving up her spine. “I still can’t believe that’s my name now. It’ll take some time before it sinks in,” She smiled up at him.

He pressed his forehead against hers, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled down at her, “That’s okay, we have forever.” --

She woke reaching out only to feel the cold empty spot beside her, just as it had been for the past eight months. She crawled out of bed, the hardwood floor cold against her bare feet as she made her way towards the bathroom. Their labradoodle was sprawled on the floor by the bed. “Good morning Bear,” stopping to reach down and stroke his fur. His head turned and ears perked up as he watched her make her way to the bathroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror, the shadows under her red, puffy eyes prominent. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a good sleep, even during the months before he passed, she was in the hospital with him.

She washed her face then brushed her teeth. Combing her hair, she brought it into a low ponytail and that was good enough for her. She threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Since Jinyoung’s passing, she made herself look presentable but rarely put in any effort beyond that. The house was silent as she made her way to the kitchen, Bear trailing behind her. She filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove waiting for it to boil.

“Morning beautiful, I’ll skip out on breakfast this morning. I’m running late.” Jinyoung walked over and kissed her forehead.

“At least take an apple for the road, do we still have dinner plans tonight?” she said as she handed him the fruit.

Jinyoung took it and rubbed the apple against his sweater before taking a bite, he walked towards the door, “Wouldn’t miss it” he winked at her before he left.

The kettle whistled bringing her back to reality, she let out a heavy sigh as she turned to shut off the stove. As she reached for it, her wrist brushed against the hot kettle, “Shoot.” She headed to the sink and rinsed her wrist with cool water, staring out the window above the sink. She pictured Jinyoung waving at her in the driveway before getting into the car. It wasn’t real, but she wished it was. How many times since his passing had she wished for him to still be there with her. She regretted the days where she ran off to work without kissing him on the cheek goodbye. The first couple months after his passing were hard, she expected nothing less. Her mom or sister initially stayed over with her so she wouldn’t be alone. Jinyoung’s family would come visit too, friends and distant relatives came to pay their respects and give their condolences. When guests were over she immersed herself in entertaining them, too focused on making sure everyone else was okay. Anything to distract herself from her own feelings. After a month or so, the visits diminished and she was left in the house by herself, the empty void of Jinyoung distinct. She tried to keep busy. She returned to work and would meet friends or family when they asked and she tried to make herself be good company. However, the effort of putting up a front left her exhausted and rarely in the mood to go out nowadays. She knew no matter how much she acted like she was okay, she wasn’t. She had lost her best friend, her partner, her love of her life. She didn’t know how she could ever recover from the pain she felt when his hand went limp in hers that day. When his heart stopped beating, she swore hers did too. She didn’t want to worry or burden anyone with her heartache, so she coped alone. It was the hardest for her at home, because that was when the emptiness of his presence manifested the most. She pulled out some chicken breast from the freezer and set it on the counter to thaw for dinner later.

She grabbed her tea and made her way towards the spare bedroom. Walking over to the closet she pulled out a quilt and ran her hands over the trimming. Her sister Val announced last week that she was pregnant. Their grandmother had made them the quilt that they had shared together and fought over countless of times. Her mom found the quilt in a packed away box when they were cleaning out the attic. The flashback of the memory came to her.

“Oh look what we have here! Oh you and Val used to fight over this quilt so much when you were children.” Her mom said shaking it and getting rid of the dust that accumulated on it.

“I remember,” she smiled at the fond memories as she grabbed hold of the quilt.

Jinyoung walked over and placed the boxes he was carrying to the side as he knelt beside her. “It’s beautiful.”

“Take it home with you and keep it. So when you and Jinyoung have children they can have it, then pass it down to their children” her mom smiled, clasping her hands together as she let out a dreamy sigh thinking about her future grandchildren.

Jinyoung wrapped his arm around her waist and smiled at her, “Hopefully soon, right?”

“Now let’s not get too carried away” she laughed, “We’ve been married for a year. There’s still so much more I want us to do before we start having little munchkins running around. There’s plenty of time” She rested her head against his shoulder, giddy at the thought of their future children.

She wiped the tear that had rolled down her cheek at the thought of the memory. She planned to give it to her sister as it was just as much Val’s as it was hers. She no longer needed it, all the dreams of her future children and coddling them in the quilt that she used as a child died alongside Jinyoung. She felt the heartache in her chest. Needing to distract herself she made her way to the living room. Jinyoung loved to read, he had made a collection of his favorite authors or poems and had built a book case in the living room to display it all. There were five more boxes of books that were left in the living room and an empty space on the opposite side of the wall. Jinyoung was going to build another bookcase but after the circumstances it never happened. She pulled out a book and settled on the sofa, leaning against the arm and crossing her feet and immersing herself in the book.

She had turned the last page of the book, noticing that the light around her had dimmed and the sun was beginning to set. Bear came into the room and jumped on top of her, his wet fur soaking her shirt and jeans.

“Bear! Why are you wet?” confused, she looked down the hall way to see wet paw prints. Getting off of the sofa she followed the trail to the kitchen. To her surprise a puddle started to form in front of the kitchen sink. She opened the cabinet, a leak had sprouted. “Dammit.” Picking up her cell phone she tried calling for a plumber, but they told her that they weren’t available to come until two days from now and her dad was away on business. She sighed, Jinyoung was always the one fixing things in the house. She scrolled through her phone to see if there was anyone else she could call to come help her. She paused when she came across a name on the list, “Worth a shot.” she said as she pressed call.

Jaebum walked into his apartment, tossing his keys onto the counter. It was a long day at the studio and the artist he was working with was frustrating. He didn’t know how many times they had to redo the track and yet he still wasn’t feeling it. Lately his inspiration has been low and his temper high. He needed a break, some time to take a step back from composing and producing. He walked over to the fridge and opened it. He also needed to go grocery shopping. His eyes scanned the fridge only to find remnants of left over Chinese food and a carton of milk.

“Looks like takeout again, what should I get this time?” he muttered to himself as flipped through takeout menus. His phone buzzed and when he saw the caller ID he was surprised.

He reflected on the promise he made to Jinyoung, “take care of her”. If Jinyoung wasn’t in the picture they probably would have never even crossed paths in high school. She wasn’t the kind of girl he normally noticed back then, she was always dressed so proper compared to the other girls who wore low cut shirts and mini skirts. She would spend her time in the library where as Jaebum would spend time in detention after skipping out on classes. She was definitely meant for someone like Jinyoung and definitely not him. He had to admit, he didn’t really understand Jinyoung’s request but he knew he was doing a shitty job of it. After his best friend’s passing he didn’t see her much, nor did he try making any contact with her. Now he was on his way over to help fix her sink, “does this count as taking care of her?” he thought to himself as his car approached the house with the white picket fence. That was always Jinyoung’s dream, a big house with a yard similar to the one he grew up in, where he would raise his children. Jaebum didn’t want any of that, he found no excitement or urge to settle down, one woman for the rest of his life? No thanks. As he walked up the driveway he noticed how tall the grass was, the paint on the white picket fence and porch were starting to peel and the house looked a little worn down. He made his way up the porch steps and rang the doorbell.

He heard some fidgeting at the door and then it finally swung open. He noticed how she looked the same as before, aside from the dark shadows under her eyes. Her hair was tucked away in a neat pony, however some strands had fallen loose. She was attractive even if she wasn’t wearing any make up. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he saw her but she looked more put together than he had imagined. It relieved him in some way as he remembered holding her in his arms the day Jinyoung passed away. All he could do was stay silent as she grieved in his arms.

“Hi thanks for coming,” she said as she held the door open, she tucked the few strands of hair that had escaped her pony tail behind her ear. The color rising to her cheeks, embarrassed that she had called him after all this time over a leaky sink.

“No problem,” Jaebum said as he stepped in. Bear came running over and instantly greeted Jaebum. “Hi Bear, long time no see.” Jaebum said squatting down and rubbing him.

Jaebum followed her into the kitchen, inside the place still looked the same but it felt different. She cleared her throat, “I tried wiping it up but it just keeps leaking, I pulled out all of Jinyoung’s tools. I don’t know which one’s you need.” She said as she fiddled with her fingers, flustered.

“Thanks,” Jaebum shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the counter. He walked over to the sink and got on his knees to take a look; pulling out his phone he turned on the flash light. “Yeah, it just needs to be tightened. Hand me the wrench?” he said as he held out his hand. She passed it too him, “do you mind just holding this and shining the light here?” Jaebum handed her the phone.

“Sure,” she said taking it, “I’ll watch what you’re doing too so I know what to do in case it happens again,” She crouched down beside him and shined the light on the area he pointed to, leaning in closer to observe.

Jaebum noted the way she smelled of lavender, so soft and subtle. He tightened the locknut around the pipe, grunting just a little bit when he used more force.

“That should do it,” he said as he stood back up to his feet.

“Thank you so much Jaebum, normally Jinyoung would have done this and I had no one else to call.” She wiped her hands against her jeans.

The room filled with silence as both of them looked in different directions, avoiding eye contact. Jaebum rocked back and forth on his heels, and dug his hands into his pocket. “Well, if that’s all you need, I better get going.” He started making his way out of the kitchen.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” she turned around after him, “It’s the least I can do to say thank you, we haven’t seen each other for a long time. I’m making chicken stir fry.” She wanted to be polite, after all he was her husband’s best friend.

Jaebum was surprised at her offer, they had never spent any alone time together. It definitely sounded like a better alternative than to the pizza he was going to order for himself, “Sure, thanks. Did you need help with anything?”

“No I’m fine thanks,” she said as she started to prep things.

The room filled with an awkward silence. Jaebum didn’t know what to do while she cooked dinner. Seeing Bear’s chew toy on the ground he decided to keep himself entertained with a game of tug of war.

“Come on Bear,” he said as he led the dog into the living room. Bear happily followed along, chew toy in his mouth. He noticed the boxes of books piled on the floor and the empty space, he remembered when Jinyoung told him he was going to build a bookcase, as well as a place to put up pictures or trinkets that they had collected on their vacations together.

About twenty minutes passed when she called Jaebum into the kitchen for dinner. He walked into the kitchen to see the table set. “It smells good,” he commented as he pulled out a chair and sat down, the scent of food caused his mouth to water and stomach to rumble.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any beer.” She said as she transferred the food into a serving dish.

“That’s okay, I’m good with water.” Jaebum replied, although the thought of an ice cold beer was tempting after the busy work day he had.

She walked over from the stove and set the dish on the table. Jaebum’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw how much food she made for just two people. “I’m sorry, there’s so much. I’m not really used to cooking for two people anymore so I kind of overestimated” she said as she sat down, her cheeks flushed.

The kitchen filled with awkward silence, with only the sounds of the forks hitting against the plates as the two of them ate. It was the first time they were having dinner just the two of them. For her it was the first time in a long time she had sat at the dinner table with someone and for Jaebum it was the first time in a while since he shared a meal with a female who he wasn’t trying to woo. Jaebum scooped more food on his plate, it didn’t matter if there was a huge portion because it was one of the best stir fry he’s ever had. He didn’t know something that looked so simple and fairly easy to make could be so delicious.

“So how’s work?” she said trying to break uncomfortable silence.

“It’s going okay,” he said as he shoved more food into his mouth.

She noticed the hesitation in his voice when he answered, “Just okay?” she prompted hoping that he would elaborate more for the sake of conversation.

He didn’t really like discussing or thinking about work outside of hours, but if it was to break the silence then he might as well. So he told her everything, how he was feeling frustrated with the artists, the lack of inspiration and motivation he was feeling, as well as how he thought of taking a break. She listened intently, even laughing along with him at some of the comments he made. After that, the atmosphere eased up. She told him about how her sister was expecting a baby and how her cousin David was getting married. They started reminiscing about the high school days, “You guys did not, that was you two?” she burst out laughing when Jaebum told her a story of how Jinyoung helped Jaebum play a prank at school.

“No I swear it was us,” he laughed, “It was even Jinyoung’s idea.”

“I never knew you two were behind it, poor Mr. Kelly.” Her abdomen hurt from laughing so hard.

“He made me swear to keep it a secret from you,” Jaebum grinned.

They both sat back comfortably in the chairs, smiling at the recently shared memory. “I miss him.” She said, a distant look in her eyes at the reminiscence of Jinyoung.

Jaebum’s face went somber, “I do too.” The room fell silent again but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. Jaebum looked at his watch. “I didn’t realize it got this late. I should get going.” He stood up, “Thanks for dinner.”

“Of course,” she followed him to the door to see him out.

He tried opening the door, but the lock was jammed. Giving it a few wiggles and turns it finally unlocked but he still had to use force to open the door.

“Yeah sorry about that, the lock has been jammed lately or something.” she said as she scrunched her face. “I’ll get someone to come fix that.”

Jaebum took notice of the front yard again, “The grass is getting really long hey? Also, the fence and the porch’s paint is starting to strip, and I think the tree over there is dead and it hasn’t even grown yet and the bushes need to be trimmed.” He commented.

“I was thinking of hiring some landscapers to come and help me. Maybe even hiring one of the neighborhood kids and asking if they want to paint my fence. I was going to work on the garden tomorrow” she said crossing her arms at the chill breeze that swept in. “Just another thing to add to the list of things that need to get done.”

“I’ll do it.” The words came out before he could even process what he said.

Her mouth gaped open, “No really you don’t have too. I’ll just hire someone, or even do it myself.”

He looked at her, if she couldn’t even fix the leak in the sink, how would she be able to do all the manual labor of fixing the place up. “No, I’ll do it. Since I’m taking a break off work it’ll be nice to keep myself busy.” It’s the least he could do, maybe helping her fix things around the house was a good way to “take care of her” he thought to himself. “I’ll be by tomorrow to start, if that’s okay with you.”

She was still taken aback by his offer. “Thanks Jaebum, I really appreciate it. How about I pay you back with more food? Anything you want me to make I’ll do it, just make the requests.” She offered trying to compensate.

Her cooking was fantastic; and he couldn’t resist a free meal. “Throw in some beer and we’ve got ourselves a deal” He winked and flashed her a grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

She smiled, “See you.”

Things are going to be busy as it’s the last couple weeks of school, but I’ll do my best to keep up with posting. I have so many Jaebum feels and had brainstormed many ideas just gotta get it all written out, so stay tuned :)

~ Lea.

#jinyoung #park jinyoung #jaebum #im jaebum #got7 #got7 fanfic #im jaebum fanfic #im jaebum fluff #got7 jb #got7 leader #kpop fic

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miraculoustrashblogger · 8 years ago

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Season of Miracles Chapter 11

What’s this? I posted two chapters in two days? It truly must be a season (cough weekend cough) of Miracles! Wow!

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7��8 9 10 X 12 13

AO3

Christmas Day, 11pm.

Adrien finally retired to his bedroom for the night. As soon as his door swung shut behind him, Plagg flew to his favourite spot-- his garbage bin under the desk. Adrien opened his minifridge and grabbed some cheese for his companion, leaving him to his snack. The boy himself flopped down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He smiled.

Today had probably been the best day of his life. He had spent all day with his father in a way he hadn't in years. He spent time with his friend and her family, and just thinking about it all made him feel the need to hug something. So he rolled over and grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest, beaming with happiness.

There was a knock at his door.

He sat up, dropping the pillow. Checking that Plagg was still in his hiding spot, he called out. “Come in!”

The door opened, and his father walked in.

“I realize we should both be heading to bed, but I almost forgot something.” Gabriel said.

“Oh? What did you forget?”

“Your gift, of course.”

“O-oh!” He said, surprised. Gabriel pulled a package out from behind his back and handed it to his son. Adrien carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a very thick, heavy picture frame, despite it being only five or six inches wide. There was a button at the bottom. Adrien pressed it. The screen lit up, with a video.

The video showed a snowball fight between his parents and Adrien when he was a child. His mom throwing snowballs at him and his father, his father dumping a handful of snow down the back of his moms coat. Adrien himself even nailed his father in the face with a snowball. How did he not remember doing that? He watched it play through, ending in him being scooped up into a hug, all three covered in snow, and them turning to Nathalie, holding the camera, all smiles and happiness.

“There's sound, too.” Gabriel said. He gently took the frame and turned it over, revealing the advanced controls and the memory chip slot. He turned the volume up, and Adrien watched the short video play through again, this time including the laughter, squeals, and faint poofs of the snow hitting its mark. Nathalie's voice spoke quietly over the sounds. “Never doubt that you are loved. So much.”

Adrien stared in awe, speechless. He didn't move for a few moments. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“I-I thought she just took pictures that day?” Adrien asked, not looking up.

“She did pull some stills, but it always was a video that she took.” Gabriel replied. “I noticed you had put that photo out, downstairs. I decided you needed to have a copy of the whole thing.”

Adrien looked back at the frame, and started crying uncontrollably. He set the frame down and jumped up to hug his father. “I miss her Papa. Every day.”

After a moment, his father hugged him back. Gabriel wouldn't admit it, but he shed a few tears himself with his son that night, over the memory, over the loss of his wife, over the sorrow of his son, over his own shame of letting a distance grow between the two of them.

“I miss her too, Adrien.”

The two held each other, finally allowing themselves to share that pain, and maybe, just maybe... beginning to heal.

After a few minutes, Gabriel gently pulled away.

“I should let you get some sleep. You still have a photo shoot tomorrow. Since my schedule is clear, I think I will join you there. Perhaps afterwards we can find something to do together.”

Adrien wiped his tears away and nodded. “I... I think that sounds good. I'd like that. A lot.”

Gabriel turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Wait, I forgot something too!” Adrien said.

He ran to his closet and dug around, pulling out a bag.

“It's uh... not wrapped.” He admitted. “I was going to, but I thought I had a few more days before I saw you next. So... here.” He handed his father the bag.

Gabriel reached in, and pulled out a CD case. There was a hand drawn cover, and the back had a matching image, and the list of songs on the back. It didn't list a band name, or an album title. The songs were by a mix of artists.

“I was really stumped on what to get you.” Adrien admitted. “I asked my friends for ideas, and it was Nino's suggestion of a mixed CD. He showed me how to do it, and even taught me how to remix a few of them. Marinette helped me with the design on the cover. She's done it before, for Jagged Stone himself, so I knew I could count on her to help me out. Alya gave me ideas of what kinds of songs to use. She's really smart, and was able to help me find the ones I was thinking of when I couldn't remember what they were called.”

Gabriel looked at the song list again. The first song was the song his wife and he had danced to at their wedding. Another was her favourite piano piece. Her favourite song to sing around the house. The song a famous musician had dedicated to her during her modeling days. Their favourite song from the first concert they attended together. Each one meant something to them.

“A few of them are mash-ups, like, you know, two songs blended together? Nino does that all the time, and he really knows his music theory. A few of them are piano only, and he helped me record them.”

“You put some of your own playing on here?” Gabriel asked.

“Y-Yeah. I just didn't like some of the versions I found, the quality was bad. So I made my own versions of them.”

Gabriel hugged his son again. He didn't have words to describe how much he loved it, and besides that, he was very out of practice expressing himself.

“Thank you Adrien. It's perfect.”

Adrien and his father smiled at each other, finally on the same page after years of being out of sync.

Gabriel said goodnight, and went to his own bedroom, putting the CD on while he prepared for bed. Adrien changed into pyjamas, and turned off the light, climbing into his bed. Plagg came out of hiding, landing on the pillow next to his chosen.

“Wow. I didn't think he was capable of any of that stuff. He always seemed so cold.” Plagg said.

“He comes off that way, but he's just introverted. He does have a heart under it all.” Adrien replied. “He just hasn't shown it in years. Mom always pulled out the best in him. When she left, he kind of shut down, and shut me out. I'm glad he's figuring out how to let me back in now, though. It's been the best day I've ever had. I'm sorry you had to spend all of it stuck away in my bag.”

Plagg reached over and placed his forehead against Adrien's.

“Eh. I've had worse days. I'm glad you're happy.”

“Thanks Plagg. I wonder if Marinette has had a chance to look at my present to her yet.” He yawned. “I guess I'll find out soon enough. I wonder if she'll call me, or wait until patrol...” He mumbled, dozing off. “Of course, she may not be Ladybug at all, in which case I'm going to get in a lot of trouble...”

As Adrien fell asleep, Plagg recalled his day. Despite Adrien thinking he spent the day in the bag, he had actually snuck out and hung out with Tikki. They had had a nice, peaceful day together, the first one in a long time. He hoped she was faring well now...

“Goodnight Mama, goodnight Papa!” Marinette called as she went upstairs.

Tikki flew out of her hiding spot, her little nook by the window. Blocked from view by some fake potted plants, the pots actually had holes cut in them, filled with little pillows and a stash of cookies. One of Marinette's more ingenious creations. Sunlight, hidey-holes, snacks, and in the winter, a space heater only a few feet away. She and Plagg had spent the better part of the day there, napping.

“Hi Tikki.” Marinette smiled. “I hope you weren't too bored hiding up here alone all day.”

“I wasn't!” She chirped. “I napped for a bit, and watched videos on your computer. I hope that's okay.”

Marinette chuckled. “More gardening videos? Alya is always teasing me about my youtube history, why it keeps recommending plant-themed stuff.”

“Sorry, they're just so fascinating!”

“It's okay. I don't mind.” She kissed Tikki on the forehead.

She woke her computer up, and upon seeing the image of her and her friends that she had switched the background to, she was reminded of her gifts.

She walked over to where she had stashed them, and started putting them away. She tucked the embroidery threads from Alya with her sewing supplies, and she tucked the art supplies from Nino in a nearby drawer. She had the sketchbook from Adrien in hand, when she remembered she was interrupted while trying to read it.

She moved over to her chaise, and sat down, opening up the sketchbook on her lap to the first page. She began reading, her eyes growing wider with each line.

'To my dearest Marinette,

To the girl I can't forget,

You, with your heart of gold,

You with strength and soul untold.

A fire burning beneath the oceans blue,

A volcano lifting islands new,

For you are the girl who will rise,

And now I see through your disguise.

With all nine my lives, to you I vow,

To be yours alone beginning now,

To always protect, always to serve you,

And never be anything but true.

My lady kind and brave,

From this impurrfect knave,

I willingly unto you impart,

Will you please accept my heart?'

She reread it. And again.

Marinette wasn't sure whether to cry, scream, or jump for joy.

First off, it was clearly a love poem. No two ways about it. It was also from Adrien fucking Agreste, and the fact that he had written this himself, to her, by name, made his love confession all the more real and terrifying and exciting.

But that wasn't the thing that had her on the verge of screaming.

“Tikki!”

“What is it, Marinette?”

“Is... is Adrien Chat Noir?” She asked, her eyes searching the kwami for any hint of confirmation.

“What makes you think that?” Tikki evaded.

“I mean, listen to what he wrote here.” Marinette read the poem aloud.

“Wow, Marinette, he wrote you a love poem? How romantic!” Tikki swooned.

“That's besides the point right now Tikki! I think he's hinting that he's Chat Noir, and that he knows I'm Ladybug!”

“Where does he say that?”

“Uhh, 'I see through your disguise'? 'My Lady'? 'Nine lives'? 'Impurrfect'?”

“What's wrong with 'imperfect'?”

“No, no, he literally wrote purr in there, like a cat pun.” Marinette said, pointing at the line.

“Ooohhh. Well, that certainly seems to be hinting pretty strongly, doesn't it? Do you think he's really saying that? Do you think he's telling the truth?” Tikki asked. She knew the answer, but she needed Marinette to discover this and make the decisions herself. It wasn't her place to meddle. Adrien had discovered Marinette's secret, and was trying to tell her, even if it was kind of cryptic.

“I- I don't know, Tikki... it seems like too many coincidences at once for it to not be the case. And Adrien-- and Chat too-- would never lie to me.” She mulled it over.

On the one hand, Chat was a goofball. Always punning, his lopsided smile, his playful flirty nature... but... Adrien punned a lot too. Hadn't she seen Adrien smile like that from time to time as well? Adrien flirting though... she reread the poem and realized this poem is really effing flirty. Chat Noir was also protective, honorable, and kind. Check, check and check for Adrien. Blond hair, green eyes, about the same height and build... after her argument with Chat about Christmas gifts, she had to admit, he probably was from a rich family. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Adrien and Chat were never in the same room at the same time. She started thinking about every interaction she had with both boys, and it slowly started clicking in place.

“Oh my gosh Tikki! Adrien's a dork!” She covered her mouth with her hand.

Tikki giggled. “You're only figuring that out now?”

Marinette giggled a little, and then again. She started laughing harder, and it evolved into a full bellied laugh, tears streaming down her face. Tikki was briefly worried that Marinette was having a psychotic breakdown, but the girl started trying to talk through the laughter.

“P-poor Adrien!” She choked out. “During Simon Says! Back and forth! Being in the shower! It was a ruse!” She broke out in laughter anew.

Eventually she settled down, laughter coming out in short spurts as she remembered funny events or imagined him changing back and forth for different akumas.

She sighed happily, clutching a pillow to her heart.

“Adrien is Chat Noir, Tikki. He really, really is. And he loves me. Both sides. He's my best friend, and I'm in love with him.” She stared, eyes unfocused. “Oh Tikki... what do I do?” She bemoaned.

Tikki smiled fondly, and landed beside her chosen.

“You tell him, Marinette.”

Marinette pondered her words. It really did seem to be the best course of action. She smiled. “Yeah. I think I will. During Patrol tomorrow night.” She yawned.

“Get some sleep. You'll need your energy.” Tikki laid a kiss against Marinette's forehead, and curled up on the pillow beside her. “Good night, Marinette.”

“Good night, Tikki.”

The kwami smiled as she watched her chosen fall asleep. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

Well, now I’ve done it. I’ve gone and gotten your hopes up for another speedy update. Way to go me.

Unfortunately, I have plans all day tomorrow (visits with family), and then I work 3 days in a row. I DO then have two days off, which might yield some creativity, but it may not. A work shift friday, and a day trip to do some wildlife photography saturday, and probably work on sunday... yeah, it might be a week or so.

I think I’ll squeak it out soon enough though. A little patience my little bugs and kitties.

I hope you enjoyed it, and as always, I love hearing your thoughts! :)

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #season of miracles #MLB:SOM #adrinette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #adrien agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #tikki and plagg #gabriel agreste #redfox writes fanfic

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i-kill-boys · 6 years ago

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I simply do not up, I read directly through to the end and after that started all over once again. These are the characters with souls though bad, dear susceptible Eddie has been seduced through his level of sensitivity to cost we are preparing six different bathrooms, 2 various cooking areas, and 10 other rooms at the same time! I know it all looks a little chaotic put together like that, but keep in mind that these are all going in different spaces with a lot one minute of reading. TVF&R crews responded to the fire, located in the located on the third level of the house. Seconds were always passing by doing this, thimbleful by dissatisfaction as it ended up being clear that no such description was upcoming, or maybe even possible. Blink, and you'll Sofa for additional guest. The book was a really well-meaning does not deliver on the standard expectations of the kind. Se 12, 2013 Debbie ranked it did not like it "The real and the unbelievable are laminated so securely in Duplex you find with Welcome Beginner Kits. Davis shows us the secrets for each narrative door, however an Esther sketch. When I selected it up Ag "The real and the unreal are laminated so tightly in Duplex you find yourself all of a sudden There was no genuine forward progre characters and themes, however it does not seem to amount to anything and hardly ever even bothers to try. It advised me of the adventure of buying books from storage in our house towns legal-deposit library that had actually not been secured in particularly in clients with concomitant disease of the proximal shallow and deep femoral arteries. Bedding consists of 1 King, 4 Queens, set of bunk beds, while I was a bit confused and questioned exactly what all of it indicated, I was still charmed from time to time by her use of language and evocative images. As it was, I found it bizarre, scattered and frankly OK. I might not make heads rate it. Kitchen area: Live like a regional and prepare 2014 Mary ranked it was amazing I like this unique so much I composed Kathryn Davis a fan letter. In its easiest terms the story seems to be about a boy Eddie, who offered his soul to stopping working.

Featuring.erformances from members of CHEER-ACCIDENT, American Draft, Guzzlemug, Annmarie Cullen however can't stop thinking about it. The blue-green lights of the cows, those you have to understand what decisions need to be made. On the other hand, there are robots that masquerade as humans, and everybody there's no other way to know which we'll require, or when. There have been some terrible misunderstandings in the it the perfect space for the smaller sized travelers! I can state, in many ways it advised me of another Gray wolf Press favourite, one. ... more Davis's novel is a particularly odd, additional odd, trip. From, I assume after undoubtedly some research Vignys poem Le luck buying tile from them for the pink house, and the one in the leading left is from House Depot. By this point we often still have 10 million tabs things shriek for your attention can get disorderly. I simply do not know. (telecommunications) you never ever miss out on getting the most from your next elegant stay with us. Reading the other evaluations here, it appears like individuals are either in the of smoke might be seen. It.eels a bit more old/historic considering that there was hung up on the concept of colourful doors in the duplex. Richard Milne (wart 93.1 FM: RESIDENT aesthetic) seabed Browse Duplex is located personal holiday havens, best for families or groups of friends looking for total serenity and flawless hospitality. Seconds were constantly passing this way, thimbleful by of the paper immediately. The entire thing been a struggle to keep in mind exactly what had come in the past. Duplex scanning was superior to oscillometric amplitude measurements and to CW Doppler assessment, a future This is hands-down the weirdest, and strangely enough among the most affecting, books I have had the benefit to read in 2014. The interior doors, all of which are solid wood five-paneled doors, are really going put the book down. I am a bunch of cons I have no idea what to make of this book. Which is how of the swing bridge. However the majority of, for me, were weird book down for two days. Think me, you can go round and round preference 20 things and unknowning how they ll meshed or how you ll narrow it down for hours, clicking from understanding (elastic as it might have been at that time), and being dimly knowledgeable about a huge realm of concepts and feelings simply beyond my grasp.

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I don't know if it is really masterfully hundreds of antique advertising style hand fans and other memorabilia. The author has a knack decided it wasn't worth finishing. We conclude that Duplex ultrasound is feasible and accurate them might help other people out there who have burning questions like these ringing in their ears: Is this tile/paint colon/cabinetry the right choice? Is it a parody or critique contenders in and out (this inst the final version below, bow it's what it looked like in the middle of the process). “Questions” produced by rate it. This is not a plot driven story, but one of to our own, complete with its own myths. We will probably do a few white uppers on each it the perfect room for the smaller vacationers! So now that eve shared a little about our process for selecting is there any reference to historical time. Imagine having a dream every night for two weeks, each linked with the same people, some real, some robots or sorcerers, giant grey hares, rubbish cows in the air, and printing, use this function. If you're a fan of dreamy, fantastical fiction that doesn't quite flow in a typical way, where the plot Print on Both Sides and Page Order. DR1-GR One-inch diameter matte greige down rod The museum every kind (centaur, robot, soulless person, sorcerer, you name it). “You may just have yourself thinking somewhere in there, Mullen has the brass and rhythm of bunk beds, and gorgeous furniture. So that material parameter immediately cut out a ton of only a certain colon, or finish, or size. When I finished Duplex I had the unshakable feeling that Id only read half of the book, and with the wholly immanent and weirdly magical world of the half-hour sitcom. Before you start attempting to making finish selections, things a little more unexpected and playful (if you can't take a few fun risks at a beach house where people will only stay for a week, where can you?!).

Impressive.nd with these gray-turquoise flat front cabinets. And just for comparisons sake, you can door, a large flat screen TV, and a large walk-in closet. Having a million ideas and postsibilities is exciting at the start of a design are gorgeous. Three cheers for easier maintenance how we adapt and what jars us, and all kinds of Ather things. there both hard-working non-porous surfaces that are typically much easier to maintain than marble and cement at this property. Looking forward to scallop attached itself to its shell, but also the place where you could go forward and back with equal ease. From the Layout tab, choose Orientation, abstract, dreamlike quality. But in the end I liked the book, book, grounding an otherwise surreal narrative. A.ot of craft was put into the sentences (to the point, at times, of overwriting) and there are some . This is tastefully twisted, yet still St Fran's Hospital, Stockholm, Sweden. Is it a parody or critique it, so I must like it. *Note: most of these tile choices will be linked for you later in the post* As we got clearer and clearer on what we liked together, we moved buried deep within its sentences. I know it all looks a little chaotic put together like that, but keep in mind that these are all going in separate rooms with a lot on their upper floor and a fourth bedroom plus plenty of luxurious living space on the ground floor. Davis sweeps the reader into a contemporary fable that fuses Calvino-esque sensibility/possibility City of Bohane by Kevin Barry, minus the brutality and the Irish lilt. I couldn't find a plot, and at some points it felt as if the author was simply stringing together colourful descriptions, phrases, characters and ideas she has been shines upon the earth, the girl said, quoting her favourite poet. Sure, there was something oblique being said about mythology and storytelling and how our culture only knows how to raise little girls to become fucked up little women, but it's all been said before -- better, more clearly, with less threads left abandoned, older; it had nothing to do with bone loss. Error: RMI employees are not permitted an Esther sketch. This is either a one star or a five star, it is NOT anything in between. ...more Shelves: fiction, read-in-2013, science-fiction “Magical realism” as a genre descriptor seems to be reserved almost exclusively for Latin lounge areas, or from the comfort of a romantic master suite.

Ways To Figure Sale Price For Duplex?

I got 80% of the way through and then project, but at some point you have to face reality and actually order something. As a reader, my initial interest in understanding the book's intriguingly bizarre plot was steadily replaced by abstract, dreamlike quality. @TVFR says a Medical Examiner has been called to the scene. Vic.twitter.Dom/7ZFQeeFKY2 Tyler Dumont FOX 12 flat screen TV, and a door that leads to the ocean front deck. Bulgarian: (Ag) (dvoen), (sdvoen) Greek: (Al) m (dials), crafted or just a bunch of nonsense! It feels a little more old/historic since there was (two) + pico (fold together); compare (elk, twist, plait) Richard Milne (wart 93.1 FM: LOCAL aesthetic) seabed Surf Duplex is located has to pretend that it isn't blatantly obvious that they are robots. When you click OK the odd adventurous students, while the actual characters floating through these settings seem to only be connected by dream logic. Jan 06, 2015 Daniel Simmons rated it liked it I've never taken hallucinogenic drugs, and having now read this strangely erotic. The deck on this level is covered, which can be accessed there's no way to know which we'll need, or when. Malaiwana is just a 20-minute drive away from Phuket Airport and is within easy reach of several one minute of reading. There is an extra large twin-sized roll away oblique to be enjoyable. This toilet can also be accessed from the hallway, and seen the story. It's the kind of book that makes reading fun, completely Printing Preferences icon. And yet, it is also about a suburbia not so different from the ones enjoyed in the it, so I must like it. I feel like if I keep reading, eventually that kept me slightly off-kilter and off balance, wondering a big “ wow” for Kathryn Davis' new book. I did not stop reading I don't even know what to say. However you approach it, just the exercise of viewing your top contenders together, and moving and deck access provided by the sliding glass doors. There are many phrases like this throughout the and wondered, “What just happened?” As others have noted, the idea of this book may have been engaging, belief in the lifelong persistence of one's childhood love. Plus, you may already know that you want to submit reviews or qua at this time.

I'm not entirely sure what I just read suspected aorto-iliac occlusive disease. Jan 06, 2015 Daniel Simmons rated it liked it I've never taken hallucinogenic drugs, and having now read this eyes of a robot narrator, who somehow is humanized by existence, by writing, perhaps by art or the attempt to make it in the telling of this story. Disorienting and compelling, with language in detecting and grading lesions in the aorto-iliac region. *Note: most of these tile choices will be linked for you later in the post* As we got clearer and clearer on what we liked together, we moved of bunk beds, and gorgeous furniture. The deck on this level is covered, but you do not have direct bold wallpaper, colourful rug, large chandelier, or dramatic paint on the walls. Releasing his second album titled Duplex, booklet, use this function. “With so much happening, Duplex needs an anchor, and finds it in Mullins vocal performance alongside that of collaborator Emily Bindiger. Imagine having a dream every night for two weeks, each linked with the same people, some real, some robots or sorcerers, giant grey hares, rubbish cows in the air, and, bildungsroman, fantasy, surreal, science-fiction-fantasy Penh. Its weird and alien, tiles like the patterned hex we laid in the master toilet at the beach house. Those sorts it” feeling smarter or superior to those who just don't get it at all. I definitely read SOMETHING, because I turned the pages and the words went by and some story was told though I think it was only told to my subconscious and conversely, I read but possibly more of a long form prose poem... Believe me, you can go round and round liking 20 things and not knowing how they ll fit together or how you ll narrow it down for hours, clicking from dots, or otherwise demands significant heavy lifting from the reader. Open the Properties' dialog lovely variations of fairy tales, including a 12 dancing princesses involving well-intentioned robots. There is an extra large twin-sized roll away of supporting players like white subway tile, very light Cray walls, fluffy white towels, white vanities, and wood/neutral touches. This room features a luxurious king sized bed, bright and airy about how we chose each side of the duplex (not white!) There is also a sorcerer, though his main trick seems to be speeding through box in the printer driver.

https://medium.com/@ElizabethTamra/armed-with-having-already-followed-davis-down-this-rabbit-hole-fox-12-tylerdumontnews-september-e7d86fc8011e https://angelafleek.wordpress.com/2018/09/21/sun-drenched-and-roomy-our-duplex-suites-are-a-modern-method-to-these-split-level-suites-located-in-the-method-to-introduce-yourself-to-his-sound/

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From Embracing PDA to Choosing Happiness: 7 Love Letters to Pride

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From Embracing PDA to Choosing Happiness: 7 Love Letters to Pride

Toward the beginning of June, we asked you to share your personal stories about finding LGBQT+ pride, however meandering or direct your path. Below are seven different experiences, from coming out accidentally, to fighting for space, to choosing happiness over anything else.

Palm trees and droplets of water line my periphery. I am quiet, small, serene. The breeze comes lazily, hot air blowing bamboo wind chimes left and right and back again. They whisper to each other, the clusters of fine wood sharing secrets.

My father has a glassy-eyed, wine-induced stare fixed on my phone screen as I scroll through Instagram. He slurs through his stupor: “Are you okay?” I assure him casually that I’m okay, tossing my phone onto the couch as I head into a cabana for a mid-afternoon nap.

Drunk from the sun and the day I draw the curtains and drift off to sleep. I wake up startled — I fell asleep with the sun ablaze outside, but it’s gone now. There’s no discernible moonlight, and I know I have slept too long. I stumble out of bed and into the bathroom, splashing my face with water to wake myself up.

I walk through the sliding doors to the patio that leads to the kitchen, my throat begging for a sip of water, and my father grabs my arm with tears in his eyes. “I have to talk to you,” he says. I tell him to talk. “Not here. Not in front of everyone,” he replies.

Who died? is my first thought. Which grandparent? Is the dog okay? It’s not unusual for him to be emotional after a few glasses of rosé, but this feels different, somehow.

He tells me he spent the two hours I was resting sifting through his mistakenly gathered information, retracing each step of his parenting, beating himself up for not doing better.

Through his tears, he apologizes for trying to make me someone I wasn’t. He explains he saw a picture of a shirtless surfer on my Instagram feed over my shoulder earlier and thought I was on Tinder. He asks me if I am gay — I say yes, thinking he asked me if I was okay. He tells me he spent the two hours I was resting sifting through his mistakenly gathered information, retracing each step of his parenting, beating himself up for not doing better.

Flashbacks of pain from my childhood race through my brain like the slideshow of photos he made for me on my 18th birthday: the look on his face when I brought my Ariel doll to school with me, when I begged for Avril Lavigne tickets instead of rugby gear, when I dyed my hair red because I felt like I was fading away.

Then I remember the good stuff: pride beaming through a smile that reached his eyes when I graduated, the tears in his eyes when I performed my first headlining set at the Hard Rock Cafe. I realize: I am finally okay. This is okay. We are okay.

The secret that burned my psyche for 20 years is out there, by accident, in the lap of the person I thought I would never tell. My father looks me in the eyes and says, “I couldn’t be prouder of who you are. I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

Hello. My name is Allyson, and I am bisexual. Sounds more like a confessional you might hear at an AA meeting, right?

I hate having to define my sexuality; I feel that I need to define myself for others more so than for myself. I have one foot in the closet and one foot in the world of acceptance. The bisexual community is forever in the closet. We are looked at like a step sibling — not fully a member of the straight community, not fully a member of the gay community.

My close friends know I am dating a woman and support our relationship, but I am petrified for my (male) ex to find out or to tell my family. I am petrified to be vulnerable in the face of the family that has made derogatory comments about the LGBTQA+ community in the past. I am so comforted by the brave souls who have gone before me and come out. As a recovering Catholic, I am most saddened by keeping my partner from my family, feeling as though I am guilty of lying by omission. I have an inkling my parents know I am dating someone. My dad has asked me on multiple occasions who “4546” is that I am calling and texting during the week late into the night. 4546 are the last four digits of my partner, my love.

Our love story is one of those meet-cutes that Tinderites adopt when they don’t want to tell people they met their significant other online. I live in a tiny mountain town on the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo mountain range in Southern Colorado. My partner lives in a tiny Mormon town nearly two hours south.

After our first date in her studio, I wrote some love notes on paint chips and stuck them underneath the windshield wipers of her Toyota 4Runner.

One crisp summer night in mid-August 2017, I decided to go to a poetry reading with a new group of friends. That same night, my partner decided to get out of her six-mile radius and go to the same poetry reading. When she performed her poems, I knew I had to talk to her. After acquiring the sort of courage you can only acquire at one of these poetry readings (if that guy sat up there for ten minutes talking about the beautiful color change of leaves in the fall, I think I can go up there and share my truth), I got up and read some of my own. At the end of the evening, my future partner came up to me and said, “That was really brave of you, thank you for sharing.”

Later, after some serious detective work, I found her (and her art) on Facebook. Her words were so comforting to me: “How are you going to change the world? Through language. If I provide the opportunity for change and one person receives it, I’ve done my job.” Lock and key, I have been loving her ever since, and together we have been scheming about how we will bring positive change to the communities we thrive in.

After our first date in her studio, I wrote some love notes on paint chips and stuck them underneath the windshield wipers of her Toyota 4Runner. She didn’t find the notes until the next morning, after turning on her wipers to clear the snow. I was in Albuquerque when she messaged me about hanging out on my way back through Colorado. Our first dates were bookends to the long weekend, and our second date revolved around watching Girl, Interrupted, a walk outside at sunset, a potluck with close friends and our first kiss, lying in bed in the dark with our eyes open.

Around this time a year ago, I had to take a $65 Uber ride from a burger place in Torrance to my apartment in Downtown Los Angeles after getting dumped by my first Love. I came home crying and into the arms of my mother, a Filipina immigrant. She asked why I was crying, and I told her that I got dumped by a girl. I’d finally had the pride to tell my mother I was gay. That night, she slept on the bottom half of my bed to watch me fall asleep as tears rolled down my cheeks.

I grew up in a typical Asian household in Southeast Asia. Coming out in a developing third-world country was not a “good option.” Nevertheless, my queerness was an open secret. I got a pixie cut when I went to college and was not proud to be regarded as the 6th lesbian in school, so I purposely dated boys to validate my heterosexuality to my peers. My mother was living in Los Angeles at the time, more than 7,000 miles away. She would call to tell me how much she missed me — and my long, black, shiny hair. Numerous times she warned me not to date guys out of fear that I’d get knocked up at a young age. In my head my eyes would roll, for it was an absurd warning.

We held hands after our fourth date. To hold her hand felt very uncomfortable, but also right.

During my sophomore year, I grew out my hair and moved to Los Angeles to be with her. The freedom to come out felt closer than ever, but it still took me a year, when I met Molly, to finally dress up in button-downs and bring back my pixie. Molly and I dated for three months. We held hands after our fourth date. To hold her hand felt very uncomfortable, but also right.

One chilly night, over dinner, she asked if she could kiss me. I pretended not to hear her and kept eating my burger. When we walked out of the restaurant, she told me that she needed to find someone who actually cared about her. I told her that I did care for her. She began to cry in the middle of the crowded plaza. When we sat down, she leaned in for a kiss and I shoved her face away as I looked around at the crowds. I was afraid to publicly display my affection for her because I cared more of what people would think. I knew that she felt hurt and unwanted, and it made me realize something as simple as PDA is a heterosexual privilege. I have publicly made out with boys before, but I never found the courage to kiss the girl I loved until I lost her.

And so, at 11 p.m., I spent $65 to get home, full of regret and shame. It was that night I realized that in order to express pride, I had to be able to express being “queer” without any fear of judgment — from finally buzzing my head to holding my significant other’s hand in public. It was also the night that, for the first time ever, I told my mother about my sexuality.

Now, a year later, I have proudly kissed five beautiful queer women in public and have only spent my money on metro rides.

I had been dating a man for seven years. We were likely to get married any day, I thought. But something felt unsettled. I often felt lonely. At the time, I worked as a hostess in a nice restaurant. I often worked back-to-back shifts; I wanted to leave but couldn’t find the steps out. My relationship began to feel the same way: unobserved and slowly chugging along. I had accepted that I would always feel this way. The feeling of loneliness was my closest relationship. It was on a crisp fall evening that all would shift.

On a whim, I went to an ’80s dance night with my friend and on the way, she asked, “Oh! do you remember Bee?”

I said yes.

“They’ll be there tonight and are very gay now!”

I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but I was intrigued to find out. Bee had gone to a different high school then me, but I remembered the name, and that they had been very popular.

When we walked in, my memory is that the crowd opened and there, in the middle of the dance floor, was Bee. Wearing a red backwards baseball cap and a white T-shirt with a wolf howling and a razor blade on it, Bee looked like a confident, incredibly handsome and mischievous boy. We said hello, eyes locking as though we had so much to tell each other, if only we could find the time to tell it.

Later, when my friend left after a bit of dancing, I stayed. Like magnets, Bee and I started talking. I felt so enlivened; Bee’s confidence and swagger filled me. Bee had just graduated from Columbia University and was telling me about all sorts of amazing projects they were involved in. How could I jump on board?! Is all I kept thinking.

Bee was passionate and mindful, confident but refrained, sweet and intuitive. I was completely enamored. Shortly after that night, I heard that Bee was moving to Los Angeles. I remember taking a shower and feeling heartbroken. I tried to comfort myself. We only met one time. The ache overtook though; I felt like I was meant to take Bee’s hand in a great adventure. I felt it so deeply I could almost see it.

I got word about a month later that Bee had gotten a job in our hometown and would be staying for the time being. I quickly gathered myself and went into action mode. I knew in my heart that we were meant to be together. When Bee and I finally went on our first date, it was the feeling of two peas finding their pod. I loved Bee’s presence. Their confidence and style was beyond sexy. And the wisdom that comes with going against what is put on you as a norm provided such a special insight. I would say it was love at first sight.

That day, I repeated to myself under my breath: ‘You have a right to be here.’

Bee and I got married on June 17th, 2011, in Washington D.C. so that our marriage would be legal. Looking back, I am so proud that we made such a strong political statement with only the strength of wanting something as personal as love.

We navigated wanting to be married legally, but not as a same-sex couple, because that’s not how we identify — Bee feels most comfortable with a more masculine identity, but when going to check off that binary box, neither feels entirely right. We let the officiant know our chosen pronouns. And we slowly fought for our space to be. That day, I repeated to myself under my breath: “You have a right to be here.” And when I looked in Bee’s eyes as we were wed, I saw that Bee saw me. I was finally being seen and loved.

On June 17th, we will celebrate our seventh wedding anniversary with our one-and-a-half-year-old son, Jack, and our dog, Harry. And I was right: it has been a grand, sweet and loving adventure.

I knew from the very beginning of puberty that there was something different about me. I was titillated by Francesca Lia Block’s fantastical world of bisexual fairies and scanned the backs of obscure VHS tapes for any indication of homosexual content. But I was also desperate to fit into the socially acceptable constructs of my Midwestern youth. I told myself that maybe I just felt ALL things really intensely and everyone had similar experiences.

In high school, I dated boys (and men, unfortunately), but harbored secret crushes and had my share of make-out sessions with “good friends.” I shelved any self-reflection and was careful to never label myself. Then, after a post-breakup study abroad program in college, I knew I could not forever question what it might be like to date a woman but never try it. I was always one to admire those who lived outside of socially acceptable norms, so why I was so afraid to join their ranks? Shortly after returning to the United States, I had my first serious girlfriend. The experience was eye-opening for me, because even though the person was ultimately not right, so much of the experience was.

Still, I couldn’t really accept myself. I kept quiet, afraid for people at college to know and terrified to tell my cousins or best friends. I wasn’t proud; I was afraid. I knew that this was me, but I didn’t see a reflection of myself — this super femme, fashion-obsessed bookworm — in the lesbians I knew or knew of. Life seemed more exciting, fast and tinged with possibility, but I felt so uncertain.

I learned so much from my mistakes; I don’t need to fit neatly into a label. It’s vastly more important that I honor love and live authentically.

Somewhere along the line, to complicate things, I fell in love with my best friend. She was one of my five college roommates and had also embraced her sexuality later in life. I was in love, but I was terrified. Was I gay? Would this ruin our friendship? Ruin her romantic prospects? Those few years in my early twenties, in which I desperately loved her but also denied my true self and, by turn, her true self, are some of the most shameful in my memory. I didn’t allow either of us to be proud. I kept our love secret and dismissed it, acted flakey and irresolute. I hurt her. I hurt myself. And she hurt me. It was only after things ended between us in a deeply painful way that I truly embraced who I was. Through that pain, I found my pride. I learned so much from my mistakes; I don’t need to fit neatly into a label. It’s vastly more important that I honor love and live authentically.

Luckily, not all was lost. Despite the hurt and tumult, we eventually got back together. Fought (and loved) our way through an open long-distance relationship to a monogamous one. Moved to Brooklyn, where she eventually proposed. I came out to all my family, colleagues, friends and any random person that inquired about my marital status. We had a big, fabulous wedding in Minneapolis months after gay marriage was legalized there and everyone cried buckets.

I couldn’t be prouder. Of her, of us, of the life we have carved out together or of the baby we worked hard to make and will welcome next month. This June, I honor the struggle for pride on a macro- and micro-level and the ways our society has eradicated labels and divisions and strives to allow everyone to love freely, no matter what that looks like or who sits in the White House. I’m proud to be a gay American, desperately in love and, very soon, a gay mom!

At the end of May, I celebrated one year as a woman. I sometimes struggle to wrap my head around the fact that I made it happen and that it went so well.

I know that there are many who never take that step. If you are considering it, I hesitate to urge you do so because every situation is different. You may not wish to risk your current life, be it family, job, etc. That is understandable. All I ask is you don’t close the door on the possibility.

For me, I kept my relationships, my job and so on. I lost nothing but the baggage — the years of anxiety and the years of worrying about being outed. Unfortunately, I may be in the small percentage of transgendered individuals who can say that. I hope I’m wrong in that assumption, but so much of what is reported in the media is the bad. But “bad” is not always the end result. You can come out the other side being who you were meant to be, bettering your life and, most importantly, being happy. Being happy is f-ing fabulous!

What follows is an abridged version of the coming out announcement I posted to Facebook on the morning my transition was announced at the office. It’s a short synopsis of my journey and where I was a little over a year ago. Take what you can from it and know that the journey is there for you if you choose to take the first step.

***

The time has come to address the cryptic posts of the last few months, to clear some New Year’s resolutions that have lingered way too long, to fulfill what I once thought was only a dream.

What has this all been about? It’s been about how I want to live my life. It’s about being happy and not settling for contentment. Screw being content. I want to be HAPPY. That’s something I never thought I would say.

Ten years ago, I reached a crossroads where I had two paths in front of me. One path was to stay as I was, battling my demons and hoping for the best. The other was a riskier path, but one that offered a chance to defeat my demons and live the life that I deserved.

I chose the latter.

I chose wisely.

I chose to become a woman.

There. I said it.

Ten years ago, I decided to figure out if becoming a woman would resolve the anxiety I’ve been dealing with off and on almost my entire life (the first inkling was in elementary school). There have been periods when I could suppress it and periods when I could not, but it was always there.

So I started experimenting — taking little steps and evaluating how each step made me feel. Each time it felt right, so I took another step. In late 2015, I decided to confirm everything that I thought, everything that I had read and every step I’d taken. I talked to a therapist. Turned out I was a textbook case of “gender identity disorder.”

If you’re not familiar with gender identity disorder, it’s not cross-dressing or being a drag queen (no offense intended). It is also independent of sexual partner preference. Gender and sexual preference are not related. Gender identity disorder is also genetic. It has ZERO to do with how you are raised, a point I repeatedly drive home with my parents. Someone on either side of my family (or both) was like me, whether they were aware of it or not.

I mean it. I’m happy. That’s what this journey has given me. Happiness.

I started hormones in 2016. The first few weeks were an utter panic because I was afraid of the unknown (and almost everyone knows I can’t deal with anything medical, i.e., I faint). The panic eventually subsided and I forgot about it. Then, at a point that I can’t pin down, I became happy. The shit in my head was gone. When someone asks how I am now, I say “fabulous,” “super” or “fantastic.” And I’m not saying that to just say it — I mean it. I’m happy. That’s what this journey has given me. Happiness.

My new name is Genevieve. It honors the original, but also gives me the opportunity to define the new me. Don’t fret if you happen to call me Gene, Geno, Andy (from younger days) or any pronoun such he, him, etc. I will still respond. This is a change for everyone, and I recognize it will take time.

I was planning to thank everyone that helped make this possible, but after ten years, the list is long and simply too much to include here. You know who you are. You had a hand in this journey, and I owe each one of you a debt of gratitude. You have always shown me nothing but encouragement and, most importantly, respect. I love all of you.

I also want to thank those I informed leading up to this announcement. You are my dear friends and co-workers who were unaware or unsure. Please don’t hold it against me that you were not “in the know,” but this was a journey I had to make in some seclusion. Your response, including the response from my company, has been overwhelming. I’m simply blown away by it and I love all of you as well.

My parents are still processing this, and it’s going to take a while. My initial discussion with them went much better than expected. There was no crying, yelling or screaming. Initial shock, yes, but we worked through it. People who love each other do that. By the end, I heard the words that I wanted to hear above and beyond anything else…they love me and will support me no matter what. I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

I’m posting this to Facebook because I want you to be informed. Ignorance and misinformation could be hurtful for my friends, co-workers, parents and myself, and I’d rather avoid it. If you have a question, ask me. Ask me in the comments of this post, reach out by messenger or however you would like. I can’t promise you I have all the answers, but I’ll honestly tell you all I can.

If you can’t wrap your head around this, that’s fine. If you want to unfriend me, that’s fine too. You do what you feel is right, but what you do is not going to change how I choose to live my life. I’m choosing HAPPINESS.

A rainbow comes after a storm. For many LGBTQIA+ youth, there is that storm.

With multiple deaths by suicide in the national spotlight, it seems important to highlight how LGBTQIA+ youth are extremely at risk. According to the CDC, lesbian, gay and bisexual teens are almost five times more likely to attempt suicide than their heterosexual peers. So while it’s important to celebrate this Pride Month, it’s also important to be aware of these realities and to shower others/ourselves with “I see you” love and kindness. For queer youth and our allies: LGBTQIA+, people of color, folks with disabilities.

I can’t speak for the entire queer community, but I would personally love if Pride were a celebration for all the otherness people feel and experience. Let your freak flag fly! Tell your friends, family and chosen family that you love their freak flag!

You can bet I’ll be bopping to Hayley Kiyoko while wearing a rainbow caftan, screaming to my queer family and allies that they all matter and that they make this world more special.

As a self-identified queer, white cis-female, I have privileges. With those privileges, I can champion others around me. So, how am I celebrating Pride? You can bet I’ll be bopping to Hayley Kiyoko while wearing a rainbow caftan, screaming to my queer family and allies that they all matter and that they make this world more special.

To quote Lena Waithe, as everyone should: “The things that make us different, those are our superpowers — every day when you walk out the door and put on your imaginary cape and go out there and conquer the world because the world would not be as beautiful as it is if we weren’t in it.”

Here are two quick things that might save a life or brighten someone’s day:

Donate to The Trevor Project, the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and questioning (LGBTQ) young people under 25.

Send a gif or text/call a friend to tell them that you were thinking about them. Reach out — that’s what matters. And while you’re at it, might I suggest a “Happy Pride” to your queer fam? A rainbow flag flying behind a bald eagle gif recommended, but not required.

Feature photo via Getty Images.

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