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teddy06writes · 3 years

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Greek Myth AU: Eros and Psyche Part Two

Eret x afab!reader

trigger warnings: general death/death mentions, Aphrodite being a bit of a bitch, reader is pregnant for the sake of the original myth, but its not mentioned that much

premise: again, this explains the original myth, this part is the second half/the challenge thingys.

Part one

list of Greek Gods/characters for this work

Eros- Eret

Aphrodite- Puffy

Zephyrus- Philza

Zeus- Dream

Pan- Tubbo

Demeter- Ranboo

Hera- George

Hades- Wilbur (only mentioned)

Persephone- Niki

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"No love can exist without trust."

The words echoed through (y/n)s head as they wandered through the still dark field. It seemed no use to them to even try to go back to the villa.

Slowly, they came to a stop next to the brook, laying down amongst the bank, one hand on their stomach as they watched the water pass, wondering what they would do.

How could they go on if Eret had left?

"Are you alright?"

(y/n) jumped at the sudden noise, sitting up and turning to see a saytr- no not just any Satyr, they found themself face to face with Tubbo, god of the wild.

"Uhhh...."

He let his head half fall sideways to look at them closer, "You don't look alright. Have you been crying?"

They sniffed, nodding, "I suppose so, yes. I've just had... a rough day."

He nodded, "Does this have anything to do with what I heard Eret shouting earlier, cause that sounded pretty bad."

"It- was actually."

Tubbo winced, "Yikes. You know, though from what I heard, from what I can see now, you really do look like someone who is very much in love. Don't leave yourself to rot here, you must continue on, and win his affections back."

"But how can I? I've lost all of his trust." They sighed.

"You must try, you must." Tubbo insisted, he offered them a hand and helped them to stand, "There is a way, and you will be able to find it. That I am sure of."

So, (y/n) traveled on, through the lands until they at last reached their home nation. Soon, they sought out their sisters, telling them that their deception had caused them to be cast out, not by a beast, but by the god Eret, himself.

When their sisters claimed excuses, and hurried off (perhaps to try and be taken by the god), (y/n) could only sigh and move on.

As they continued the travel, searching for any signs of their husband, he was stuck in Puffy's castle, the splash of oil having done much more damage than she'd originally thought.

All too soon, Puffy had found out where Eret was, and what had happened. Furiously, she rushed into their chambers, utterly pissed that she had gone so far against her instructions as to fall in love with (y/n).

The goddess was in such a rage, that she hardly noticed the state he was in, instead yelling on about how 'that wretched mortal would need to be punished'.

"No!" Eret cried through gritted teeth, "They may have betrayed me, but this is not their fault!"

"She shall be punished!"

It was only the announcement that Ranboo and George had arrived that pulled Puffy out of her yelling.

"Puffy, what's happened?" George asked once she had returned to the main room.

"Do remember that mortal? The one everyone was infatuated with?" Puffy asked, annoyed.

Ranboo nodded, "I thought you had sent Eret to get rid of them."

"The foolish boy went against me, brought her to some place, kept her safe, and now he's been burned because of it." She sighed, "The mortal will have to be dealt with. No simply plots of a forced love. I shall send them straight down to Wilbur's domain."

George bit his lip, "Well, are you sure that he didn't hide them away for good reason?"

"He fell in love with them." Puffy scoffed.

"Oh come on Puffy, don't punish them just because she fell in love. Doesn't he deserve ore than that? They must have fallen in love for a reason? You are the goddess of love, surely you should understand." Ranboo attempted to defend Eret, only to be cut off.

"I do not care what I should or should not understand! I want this mortal punished, and punished they shall be!" Puffy roared.

Meanwhile, (y/n) still wandered the land, looking for their lover, even as their health seemed to decline.

It had been a rather nice day when they stumbled upon the abandoned temple, covered in debris, and tools left behind. Some how, despite everything, it only made sense to clean the temple. To restore, to the best of their ability, to its former glory, or at least till it didn't look a mess.

It was slow work, but soon they had cleared the weeds, moved the old offerings back to their place, and found a place for the abandoned tools.

"You, poor (y/n)!"

They looked up to find Ranboo, towering over them, "M'lord?"

"I have come with a warning. Since your betrayal of Eret, Puffy has been after you, and you have been in great danger. Still despite this, you've come to clear the temple that my followers have abandoned. Why is this?"

"No place should be abandoned as I have been." (y/n) answered softly.

He frowned, sighing, "Well, I value my alliances with Puffy to much to harbor you. But, I will not turn you in, nor alert her in anyway you were every here. Consider yourself blessed."

As he disappeared, (y/n) couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief. They hadn't been met with Puffy's wrath yet. But that did not stop their sorrow.

Wandering farther and farther away from both the valley, and their home, (y/n) came across another temple, taking a rest from the road to step inside.

At the alter, they prayed, "George, queen of Olympus, I beg of you to help me. I am but a mortal, plagued by sorrow, driven out of every place Aphrodite seeks me. I do not wish for my child to be born to this life. Oh, dear George I beg for your help!"

George, hearing these prayers, quietly appeared to them, "Poor dear. I cannot help you, no matter how much I wish too. Puffy's anger stretches far, and even I cannot shield you from it."

When he had disappeared, (y/n) was forced back out the wandering, wondering, if maybe they revealed themself to the goddess, they might receive some mercy.

After a long pondering they set out, and after journey, the found themself at the palace of Puffy. Upon turning themself into the servants, (y/n) found themself dragged before Puffy, who demanded to know what they were doing.

"So you have finally decided to pay me a visit? Or is this just a trick to see your husband, who sufferers from a wound given by your hand!"

It had been a long afternoon for (y/n), until at last the servants, and even Puffy herself, let off, and gave time for the bruises to fully form, as Puffy taunted them, "Such a plain and boring mortal, how could he have fallen for you? And even given you a child? What a pathetic thing it will be."

It didn't take much longer after that for Puffy to decide, "A challenge then, you look to be a maid, lets see how well of one you are. Then you might gain enough favor to see your husband." She called for bags of wheat, barley, beans, lentils and chickpeas to be spread and mixed on the floor, "Have all of this sorted, before the night, and you may win some favor."

And as she disappeared, (y/n) wept, it would be impossible for them to sort the pile, let alone by the time she returned. It had seemed so hopeless, until, droves of Ants, driven by pity made there way into the room.

"Fear not, we shall help you with this task."

Soon the grain was sorted, and the ants disappeared as Puffy returned, looking around incredulously, "This work mustn't be yours! Surely it isn't! You foul thing! This work is far from over!"

The next day, a new challenge was assigned.

"There is a field, a few miles from here, where golden sheep graze all day. Travel there and bring me back a tuft of wool from one by the time the sun sets, or give up on all hope of seeing your husband again." Puffy commanded.

Obediently, (y/n) set out, and as they crossed the river, a soft nymph whispered the secrets to gathering the wool from the dangeours animals.

Carefully, (y/n) waited until noon had passed, until the sheep had settled to one ide of the field, and crept out, gathering the soft tufts from the briars of the bushes.

Yet again, Puffy was surprised by their ability to comply and finish these challenges.

"Surely your husband had some hand in helping you finish this. Quickly mortal, while there is still light, take this, and fetch me the water from the upper most point of that mountain stream."

(y/n) took the pitcher, and slowly began to hike toward the mountain, dreading the dangerous climb ahead. The mountains slowly grew nearer, until (y/n) was forced to fully climb up and over rocks, and the potential fall could prove fatal.

They had paused for a rest, breathing heavy and staring up at the setting sun, there was no way they could make the trip to the top of the mountain and back before night fell.

Yet again, it all seemed helpless, until a kind eagle, indebted to Eret, swooped down, "Give me your jug child, and allow me to help."

When they returned to Puffy's castle, again they were met with surprise. No one had expected their return.

"You have done what I asked, and that makes me suspect you to be a witch. It will take a greater test to determine if you should see your husband again."

(y/n), barley held in a sigh, bowing their head.

"You will journey to the underworld, and meet Niki. She makes a beauty cream, I need you to get some for me. I've exhausted my supply."

(Y/n) began to shake, tears beginning to spill from their eyes, surely this task was impossible. No one could journey to the Underworld and make it back alive.

"Better get going." She scoffed, "And remember, not a single drop

They had no choice but to go.

It was a slow, painful journey, and it took much help, much advice to reach the underworld.

They called upon Niki, who greeted them kindly, and listened to their plight.

"I just wish to see my husband again, so I can explain myself, so I can apologize." (y/n) finished with a sigh.

Niki frowned, "That I cannot help with. But I can supply you with the beauty cream, to bring back to Puffy."

A box was filled and closed out of their view, before Niki presented it to them, with a warning, "The contents of this box, are not meant for mere mortals. It is highly dangerous for you to even look at it. You mustn't open this box, not for anything."

"I understand." They said, taking the box.

The journey back to the overworld seemed to pass quickly, but soon (y/n)s thoughts began to betray her.

Why would they carry this beauty cream if they were not able to take a drop for themself?

How were they suppose to confront their husband if they looked as ragged and hungry as they did now?

Slowly, the temptation took over, surely they would need this beauty cream more than the goddess of beauty.

As soon as the box was opened, they fell to the ground, nearly dead.

While they slept off their injuries, a great fight took place between the gods.

When they had at last awoken, they were greeted with the sight of their lovers face.

"Eret!" They gasped, "I'm sorry! I truly am! I don't know what I was thinking! Please forgive me! I love you!"

She smiled softly, "There is much we have to talk about my sweet."

It had been decided, that (y/n) would join the gods on Olympus, and remarry the god Eret.

Puffy would hurt them no more, and Eret, having heard what lengths they had gone too to get back to them, he couldn't keep them away.

#mcyt x reader #eret x reader #the eret x reader #teddy 06 #teddy 06 writes

82 notes · View notes

dirtykpopsnaps · 3 years

Text

Handwritten Notes - Jeon Jungkook (soulmate au)

Warnings: None

Contains: Cute soulmates!Jungkook and Y/N meeting

Requested: no

Words: 6, 559

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The sunlight from outside shines brightly through my window blinds. I groan softly, throwing my arms over my eyes to shield them. Seconds later, my alarm starts going off on might nightstand. Sighing softly, I sit up and turn off the alarm. I yawn loudly and stretch my limbs in all directions. Little pops and cracks sound as I stretch.

Rubbing my eyes, I swing my legs over the bed and climb out. I grab my glasses off the nightstand, settling them on my face. Everything comes into focus immediately and I look around before looking down at my arm. I smile to myself, looking at the note scrawled in tiny handwriting on my arm. Over the years, I’ve gotten used to the little notes that he sometimes leaves on my arms.

Haven’t had any appointments lately?

I giggle, grabbing a pen off the nightstand. Very slowly, I write back a response in handwriting equally as small as his. (Over the years, we’ve learned to write small as to save space).

Nope, no appointments. Why?

I don’t have to wait long for a response. Almost immediately, the soft tingling on my skin alerts me that he’s writing back.

You only ever talk to me when you have appointments

Pushing out my bottom lip, I respond.

We can talk now for a little bit. I have some time

I would like that a lot

While I make myself breakfast and get ready for work, I walk around my small apartment with the pen. Back and forth, my soulmate and I leave little notes and ‘talk’. You see, if you haven’t already noticed, my attachment is a skin write attachment. Anything that he writes on his skin, I see and vice versa. I first realized I had the attachment in elementary school. My memory has always been a bit spotty, so I would write little reminders to myself on my hand. ‘Dr. appointment @ 11’ ‘mom picking me up, don’t take bus’ ‘turn in assignment for lit’. Little notes like that. Eventually, my soulmate started leaving little notes of his own and talking to me. Now we talk almost every day, though he sometimes has to remind me to talk to him since, again...my memory is spotty.

For a couple hours, we talk back and forth. Finally, I write one last note on my arm.

I need to go. We can talk later, okay?

Okay. Have fun at work!

I smile softly to myself and pull on a long sleeve work shirt to cover up the writing on my arm. I’m always being asked to cover up the writing on my arm, since customers generally look at the writing and just assume that it’s tattoos. I roll my eyes at the thought and pull on my work pants and shoes. When I’m done, I pull a brush through my hair and pull it back into a ponytail.

When I’m ready to go to work, I grab my bag and shove my school ID, license, phone, and wallet inside. Although I don’t have school today, it’s always a good idea to have my ID with me. Calmly, I sling the bag over my shoulder and leave the little apartment. Out on the street, people are walking back and forth. It’s a weekend, so it’s not as busy as it would be on a week day, but there are cars going up and down the road. I make my way towards the little coffee shop/ café a few streets over. That’s where I work.

On the way over, a few people wave to me in greeting. I wave back and continue making my way along until I get into work. Inside the coffee shop, people are already sitting and chatting happily. I get behind the counter and hang up my bag, throwing my apron on over top. Surprisingly, my morning is fairly slow. Not many people come up to the register, so I wait patiently and just think about random things. I think about my homework that I need to do when I get home. I think about chores that I need to do.

Suddenly, someone snaps their fingers in my face. I blink rapidly and focusing on them. Just in front of me, an older woman scowls at me. I take a deep breath and stand up straighter. “How can I help you?” I ask. She continues to scowl at me.

“Well, if you had been listening you would know,” she says rudely, looking me up and down.

“Can you repeat your order, then?” I ask, trying to ignore her tone. The woman rolls her eyes.

“Fine. Can I have a salted caramel mocha latte with two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of white chocolate mocha instead of mocha, plus extra caramel drizzle?” She says plainly, crossing her arms over her chest and not even looking at me. I take a deep breath and nod my head.

“Yes, ma’am. Can I get a size and your name?” I question. She narrows her eyes at me in annoyance.

“Venti for Carol,” she spits.

“Okay, ma’am. I will get that right out,” I respond.

Rolling her eyes, the woman steps away from the counter and I sigh in relief. Next to me, my co-worker, Thomas, gives me a look. “Good luck with that one,” he says sympathetically. I sigh and roll my eyes, turning around to start making the drink.

“Tell me about it,” I sigh. For a while, I’m occupied with making the drink. Another worker takes the register and takes other customers orders. Quickly, I make sure to make the drink exactly as she requested. I don’t want to give this woman another reason to get annoyed with me.

When I finally finish the drink, I slip on a cup sleeve and walk over to the order counter. “Venti salted caramel mocha for Carol?” I call out, looking around. The woman stands up from her seating, walking over to me. When she’s at the counter, I hold out her cup and she snatched it out of my hand. She looks me up and down one more time before scowling.

“Hasn’t any told you that tattoos are very unprofessional?” She asks, her eyes landing on my arm. I give her a confused look, but glance down. Sure enough, my sleeve has lifted a little bit to show some of the writing.

“Those aren’t tattoos,” I say smoothly, pulling my sleeve back down.

“Yes, those are. I know tattoos when I see them,” she growls at me.

“I promise...they’re not tattoos,” I reassure her. She narrows her eyes at me again, her scowl still present on her face. I can see she’s about to say something else, but she seems to think better of it.

“Just keep them covered,” she growls and spins around, walking out of the coffee shop.

When she leaves, the bell above the door jingles happily and I groan, leaning against the back counter. “How is it that I always get the shitty customers?” I groan, sighing to myself. I walk back over to the register, waiting for new orders to come in. Next to me, Thomas leans against the back counter and hums softly.

“What was she so upset about?” He questions. I sigh, turning to him and gesturing to my arm.

“She was already really pissy, but she saw the writing on my arm and was insisting it was tattoos,” I tell him, he scrunches his nose up in annoyance, glancing out the door.

“Does...no one remember that skin write is an attachment?” He asks, looking around the coffee shop now. I shrug my shoulders, sighing again.

“Guess not. Either that or people her age just completely forget what it’s like to have an attachment anymore,” I say.

For a while, I just wait behind the counter and take orders from customers. I watch as the tables slowly fill and then empty. Around lunch, we get a large rush of people asking for drinks and snacks. Some people order their drinks and sit down, but other’s order their drinks and immediately leave to go get lunch. I walk a little bit to Thomas when we don’t have customers and some of the other workers talk to us a little bit, too. However, no matter what happens, my day just seems to insist on being horrible today. All day, I’m the one who has all the crappy customers. As one of the other workers scoots by, I’m jostled and spill milk down the front of my apron. Then, to make it even better, a customer trips walking by and I get drenched in their steaming hot chocolate. While the another worker hurried around to get them another hot chocolate, I’m ushered back to the back room to make sure I’m not burned too badly.

By about 3 in the afternoon, I’m in such a sour mood that I just want to go back to my apartment. Even homework sounds better than working another few hours. However, I know that I need to go through work until closing. Thankfully, the last couple hours aren’t so bad. The customers are considerably nicer and nothing is spilled on me. The other workers are doing their best to avoid upsetting me any more, which I’m incredibly thankful for. I take orders as calmly as I can and do my best to avoid using my burned hand.

Slowly, the sun begins to set and the last few customers leave the coffee shop. I start walking around and cleaning up the tables, making sure to walk around and clean off the tables. Just as I’m cleaning a table on the café side of the shop, I hear the door jingle softly. I turn slightly to see who has come in and internally groan when I see a large group of men enter the shop. Sighing to myself, I walk up to the counter. As annoying as it is, several of the workers have already left for the night, so I’m one of the last workers here.

Taking a deep breath, I step up to the register and look at them. “How can I help you?” I ask, trying to use my sweetest voice. I really don’t want to have any more annoyances today. The man directly in front of me is tall with very broad shoulders. Even as the sun sets, he has a pair of large sunglasses covering his face. Actually, all of the men are wearing some sort of sunglasses or hat, some even have both. I decide to brush off their odd attire and just listen to the broad-shouldered man’s order. One by one, the men in line order, then walk off to find a booth to sit together. I take all seven orders and write them down quickly on a note pad. “Just a fair warning, this might take a little while,” I warn. A man with dusty, blonde-grey hair responds.

“That’s alright, we don’t mind,” he responds kindly. I flash him a thankful smile, but he just goes back to his group of friends.

Next to me, the worker at the café, a sweet girl named Trinity, glances at me. A few of the men leave the group and walk up to her counter, ordering a bit of food for the group. I watch them for a few moments, but shake my head and decide to start working on their order. Looking down at the list, I slowly start making the different drinks that each man had ordered. Several of the drinks are a little complicated, so I make sure to read over the order a few times before making the drink.

Just as I finish up making the fourth drink for the group, I feel a soft tingling on my other arm. Glancing around to make sure that no one is watching, I pull up the sleeve of my clean arm and see what he’s written.

How’s work going?

I let a sharp breath out of my nose, rolling my eyes at the question. Quickly, I grab a pen off the counter and write down my reply.

Don’t even ask. I can’t wait to leave.

He begins writing back immediately.

Ugh. Sounds like you haven’t had a great day.

One of my worst ones in a while. I’d rather be working on homework than here.

Capping the pen, I decide to continue making the drinks. I feel the tingling on my arm immediately, but I ignore it and make a couple more drinks before responding.

Ew, that sounds awful. Can you escape any time soon?

Maybe. I have a big group here, so we’ll see how long they take.

I set the pen down again and make the last drink before placing all of the cups in holders and walking over to the booth.

At the table, the men are all chatting animatedly. One of the older men in the group is talking about some music that he’s finishing up. “I just need to finish up some lyrics, then I could probably present it,” he says, shrugging. Several of the other men smile happily and compliment the man.

“I’m excited to hear it, Yoongs,” a man at the end of the booth says. I step up to the booth and look around at them, saying their orders one by one. As I say their orders, they raise their hands and I pass them their drink. As I pass out the drinks, I feel the sleeve of my shirt start to move up, but my hands are full so I can’t adjust it.

When I have all the orders handed out, I quickly set the drink holder down on the table and pull down my sleeve again. Although I try not to be obvious about it, the man with the dirty, blonde-grey hair seems to notice. He sets his sunglasses down on the table, his eyes focused on my arm. “Do you have tattoos? Is that why you have to wear long sleeves?” He asks, looking up at me with deep, brown eyes. I shake my head lightly, tugging at my sleeve again.

“Um, no, not tattoos. It’s my attachment. I have a skin write attachment, but people always look at them and assume they’re tattoos,” I explain. The blonde-grey man chuckles lightly and nods his head, gesturing towards the other man at the end of the booth.

“Jungkook has the same problem,” he says.

At the mention of his name, the man on the end looks at the blonde-grey haired man with wide eyes. “What?” He asks in confusion. The man chuckles lightly, looking towards me.

“She has a skin write attachment. She says she has to wear long sleeves because people assume they’re tattoos,” he says. The man, Jungkook, rolls his eyes and sighs.

“So, you have the same problem I do?” He questions, looking me up and down. I nod my head lightly, pulling up my sleeve on the arm that has more writing. He chuckles lightly when he sees the writing, then stops and stares at my arm. His mouth falls open a little bit as he looks at my arm.

Slowly, Jungkook reaches towards me, then he seems to remember what he’s doing. “Oh, do you mind?” He asks, gesturing to my arm. I shake my head and push my sleeve up to my elbow, presenting my arm to him. He reaches out and looks at my arm, turning it slightly. “Joon...” Jungkook says, his words trailing off. The blonde-grey haired man looks a little closer at my arm, then he squints at the writing.

“Wait, is that...?” He asks, his voice also trailing off. Jungkook looks up at me with wide, brown eyes. Quickly, he lets go of my arm and pushes up his sleeve, presenting his same arm to me. For a few seconds I stare at him in confusion, then I actually look down at his arm. Little words are also scrawled across his arms. Then, realization hits me. It’s...the same conversation.

Quickly, I look between both of our arms, making sure. I have no idea what to say. My hand flies to my mouth and I gasp, looking at him again. “You’re my soulmate!” I exclaim. He nods his head vigorously and jumps up from the table, pulling me into a big hug. At the table, I hear a couple of the other men start asking questions, but the man Jungkook called Joon just quiets them down. “Just let them have a moment, okay?” He says. Eventually, the men just quiet down again and watch us. Jungkook rubs his hands up and down my back comfortingly. I hug him even tighter, not wanting to let go.

Finally, he pulls back from the hug and just smiles brightly at me. “You’re even more beautiful than I could have imagined. I...wow. This is the person I’ve been talking to for 10 years,” he laughs happily. I giggle, nodding my head and thinking back to those days in middle school.

“Yep, it’s me! Sorry for all the appointment notes,” I giggle, hiding my face in my hands. Jungkook just laughs lightly, squeezing my hand.

“It is absolutely okay. Your little notes always made my day so much better. You have no idea how many times I would just sit around waiting for you to respond,” he chuckles lightly.

Talking happily, Jungkook and I chatter back and forth with each other. After a few minutes, Joon gets our attention. “Why don’t you two grab a table and talk? I’ll get you when we need to go,” Joon says, sharing a look with Jungkook. He nods his head softly and takes my hand in his, leading me over to a table close by. Calmly, Jungkook pulls out a chair for me and walks around the table to sit down in the chair opposite me. Biting my lip, K look up at Trinity. I really want to talk to Jungkook, but I also know that I’m technically still ‘working’ until him and his friends leave. Trinity see me looking and gives me a shocked look.

“Are you seriously considering blowing off your soulmate to work? No, idiot! Sit your butt down and talk to him!” Trinity exclaims. I burst into a fit of laughter, resting my head on the table and hiding my face in my hands.

Across the table, Jungkook starts laughing lightly. “So...,” he starts, trailing off.

“What?” I question, picking up my head and tilting it slightly. He rubs at the back of his neck, laughing a little awkwardly.

“I was gonna ask me to tell you about yourself, but we’ve kinda been talking for 10 years now,” he laughs. I giggle lightly and nod my head.

“True. But, there are some things we don’t know about each other. Like, obviously, J work here, but what do you do?” I ask, gesturing around at the coffee shop/café. Jungkook looks over at his table of friends behind us.

“I’m part of a music group. The guys I came in with are my group mates,” he explains. I look at him excitedly, smiling widely.

“What genre?” I ask curiously.

“Kpop,” he says. I give him a confused look, knitting my eyebrows together.

“Umm...sorry, but what is kpop?” I ask in confusion. He chuckles lightly.

“I’ll take it you don’t know who we are, then. Kpop is short for Korean pop. Our group is called BTS,” he explains. I nod my head lightly, vaguely remembering hearing that name somewhere.

“So...if you’re a part of a kpop group, I’m guessing that means you’re Korean. That explains the weird time differences,” I smile brightly. Jungkook nods his head sweetly.

“Yeah, I always wondered where you lived for us to have such a big time difference.”

For what feels like only 10 minutes, Jungkook and I chatter happily back and forth. We talk about everything that we couldn’t talk about with our attachment. See, attachments sometimes won’t let you talk about certain things. It would give away too much information and make finding your soulmate much easier, which is pretty frustrating. However, now that I’ve met him, we can talk about anything that we want to. Jungkook tells me about traveling the world, the places he’s been with BTS and some places that he would still like to go. I talk to him about my plans for traveling and where I’ve always dreamed of going. “Well, now we can do that. I would love to travel with you,” he smiles, leaning across the table and taking my hand in his. I nod my head lightly.

“We’ll need to think about that later. Right now, I need to start thinking about moving,” I say, immediately starting on a list of things that I need to do before I move. A shocked look crosses Jungkook’s face.

“Wait, you’re moving?!” He asks, his voice laced with shock and nervousness. I stare at him and nod my head slowly.

“I mean, of course. I’ll have to move. Your life is in Korea and there’s no way you could move here, so I would need to move there,” I say slowly. Immediately, he sighs in relief and rests his head against the table.

“I thought you meant you were moving somewhere else,” he sighs. I giggle lightly, shaking my head.

“No, no. I’ll need to move to *Korea* now. I want to be as close to you as possible, since you’re my soulmate,” I tell him. He chuckles lightly, squeezing my hand again.

“That’s really sweet,” he chuckles.

Suddenly, someone appears at the edge of our table. Both Jungkook and I look up to see Joon standing there. Jungkook sighs softly and squeezes my hand again. “It looks like I need to go. We have an interview tomorrow, so we’re going to be a bit busy,” he explains. I nod my head and, without even hesitating, pull my phone out of the pocket of my work pants. A huge smile spreads across Jungkook’s face when he sees my phone and he pulls out his, as well. Quickly, we exchange numbers, then hand the phones back. We both stand up and he pulls me into a big hug. I smile and hug him back, feeling very comforted and happy in his arms.

When he pulls back, an idea seems to have come to him. “Hey,” he smiles, looking at me, “Why don’t you come to the interview tomorrow?” He asks. I give him a surprised look.

“Can you do that?” I ask in shock. He shrugs his shoulders lightly, looking over at Joon.

“Maybe, I’m honestly not sure. But, I’ll see what I can do,” he smiles, squeezing my hand again. I nod my head happily.

“I’d like that,” I tell him. He flashes me a bright smile then, just like that, he joins his members again and they all start packing up to leave. They all throw away their cups and trash before heading out the door of the shop. Just before they start walking away, Jungkook waves through the window and flashes me another smile. I wave back and, in a second, he’s gone again.

As soon as I can’t see him anymore, I look back at Trinity. She squeals loudly and jumps up and down. “That was so *cute*!” she squeals. I giggle, walking around the shop and starting to clean up again. Trinity and I talk excitedly as we both clean up and then close shop. Trinity even walks home with me since she lives close by and all we talk about the whole way home is Jungkook. Trinity seems absolutely astonished that she had just watched me meet my soulmate. “I had better be invited to the wedding. That was literally the cutest thing ever!” She squeals. I laugh again and wave goodbye to her as she starts to make her way back to her own apartment.

I walk up the steps of my apartment building and walk inside, going up the stairs. When I get to my apartment, I unlock the door and go inside. I immediately head into the kitchen and start searching around for food that I can make for dinner. Suddenly, I feel a buzz in my pocket and I pull my phone out. It’s message from Jungkook.

From Kook🎤: We we’re able to get you in for tomorrow! Dress nice and show up around 10 am, okay?

To Kook🎤: Okay, see your tomorrow!

I respond excitedly.

As soon as I send the message, I find my bosses contact and call him. When he picks up, I explain the situation and everything that happened at work today. Then, I apologize for the late notice, but I ask for the day off. He huffs in annoyance, but agrees and I thank him profusely. The conversation ends soon afterward and I put my phone back into my pocket. I find some easy food to make for dinner. While the food cooks, I hurry into my bedroom and start searching through my closet for anything that could be remotely presentable for tomorrow. Finally, I’m able to put together a cute enough outfit that I think looks presentable and nice. The outfit consists of a flowy white top, a plaid skirt with colors like red, brown and black, tights, black above the knee socks, and cute black boots. I set this outfit out on my dresser and walk back into the kitchen for my food.

For the rest of the night, I hang around in my apartment. I watch a little bit of TV while I eat my dinner, but I’m not fully paying attention. My favorite part of the night is that Jungkook texts me as much as he can. He’s a big slow to respond at times, but I know that he must be busy with getting ready for the interview. I wait patiently for his replies and smile whenever I hear my phone make that small ‘ding’ alert. Around 10:30 at night, I decide to go to sleep and message Jungkook goodnight. Calmly, I climb into bed and snuggle under my covers, making sure that I set my alarm for the next morning.

—————————

When my alarm sounds the next morning, I groan softly, but climb out of bed. The sight of my clothes on the dresser remained me of everything that happened yesterday and I’m suddenly wide awake. I decide to take a quick shower and head into the bathroom, taking of my clothes. I hop into the shower and turn on the hot water, allowing the water to wake me up a little bit. When I finish with my shower, I throw on my robe and decide to deal with my hair first. I get out the hairdryer and begin working with my hair so that it looks presentable for the interview today. Although I know I will not be being interviewed today, I still want to look nice and presentable.

Once I’m done drying my hair, I pull on my outfit for the day. On my nightstand, my phone buzzes and I grab it, it’s another message from Jungkook. The message solely consists of an address and I guess that it’s probably the address of the building they’re being interviewed at. Another message comes seconds later.

From Kook🎤: Change of plans. We’re already at the building getting set up for the interview. I will have someone from the company come to get you, okay? Send your address.

I send a message thanking him and tell him my address immediately.

Now that I know that I’ll be picked up, I decide to have a quick breakfast. Jungkook never said when I should expect the driver, so I eat as quickly as I can. I end up waiting another half hour for the driver to come, but that doesn’t bother me. When the driver does show up, Jungkook messages me and I quickly grab my license, wallet, keys, and phone. I lock the door to my apartment and head onto the street below. Parked just in front of my building, waiting patiently, is a man dressed in a neat black suit. When he sees me coming, he opens the door of the van he’s driving and I climb inside.

The drive to the building where BTS is being interviewed is completely silent. The driver doesn’t try to speak to me, so I stay quiet. I simply watch as the buildings outside flash by and, before I know it, the van is being parked in front of a large building. The man steps out and opens the door for me before leading me into the building and along long hallways that travel deeper into the building. People are bustling all around inside the building, so I stay to myself and follow the suited man in front of me. He leads me down another long hallway, then stops in front of door and opens it for me, gesturing me inside. I thank him and he gives me a curt nod before I walk inside the room.

Inside the room, there are clothing racks lined against the wall and makeup chairs are positioned in front of vanity mirrors. A couple of the members of BTS are already seated in the makeup chairs, getting minimal makeup applied for the interview. “Y/N!” Jungkook smiles, opening his arms to me. I walk over to the couch he sitting on and sit down, cuddling into his embrace. “I’m so glad you could make it! It’ll be so nice to have you here,” he hums happily. On another couch, one of the members, Jungkook introduced him as Taehyung, pouts. “I wish my soulmate was here,” he pouts sadly, pushing out his bottom lip.

“You’ll see her eventually. She’s just back home,” Joon says, looking across the room at Tae. Tae nods his head softly, but looks down at his lap, obviously still upset that his own soulmate isn’t here.

As the members get ready for the interview, I get a chance to talk to each of them. They each seem interested in getting to know me and they’re all very sweet. They all seem very excited that Jungkook has finally met his soulmate and the member J-Hope smiles happily. “The girls are all very excited to meet you. We talked to most of them last night and they were all very excited to hear that Jungkook finally met his soulmate,” he says happily.

“Wait, you’ve all met your soulmates?” I ask curiously. They all nod their heads in agreement.

“Yes. Jin is the only one who has actually told our fans, but...if it’s brought up in the interview today, we plan to tell everyone,” Joon explains nervously.

“And...what if it’s not?” I question.

“Well, we’re almost always asked about our soulmates, but if it’s not, we’ll tell them over our social media,” he continues.

After about an hour of hanging out in the room, a young girl sticks her head into the room. “We’re ready for you,” she smiles, looking around at them. When her eyes land on me, her smiles drops but she plays it off. Jungkook takes my hand in his and pulls me off the couch.

“Will you watch from the wings?” He asks happily. I nod my head and smile at him excitedly. All the boys start leaving the room and Jungkook leads me out and down another hall. At the end of this hall, it opens up to a backstage area. I can hear the host talking, so we all keep quiet while we wait for them to be called on stage.

As soon as they hear their names, the members start heading onto the stage. Jungkook quickly presses a kiss to my hand and I bite my lip, suppressing a giggle. He hurried onstage and I find a seat far enough back from the wings so that I can’t be seen, but I can still watch. All the boys walk onstage to loud screams and applause. When they sit down, the screams continue for about 10 seconds before everything is quieted down.

For the most part, the interview goes fairly well. Joon, who I learned is actually named *Nam*joon, is seated in the middle of the group. He talks the most, but some of the members add in their own statements here and there. It’s obvious how proud they are that they’re getting better at speaking English. The interviewer has many questions, several of which are questions that seem unique and actually give the boys reason to think. Everything seems to be going very well, however...I start to get a little jealous. The interviewer is very clearly flirting with Jungkook. When she asks her questions, she always looks directly to Jungkook for his answer. She’s laughing at everything he says and, when she asks about what they like in a partner, she only seems to listen to his answer.

Towards the middle of the interview, she finally asks the question that they had all expected. “So, I know that you must be tired of answering, but...how many of you have found your soulmates?” She asks excitedly. As always, her eyes immediately led on Jungkook. I’m not sure if he realizes that she’s flirting or not, but I slowly feel myself getting more and more jealous. Half of me wants to run out on the stage and rip him away from her. My attention is finally ripped away from the interviewer when Namjoon looks around at the rest of the group.

“Well, I’m happy to say that, at this moment...we have all found our soulmates!” He says enthusiastically. Almost the entire crowd groans and whines as he says this, but none of the members seem to care. They all have wide smiles on their faces as they talk about their respective soulmates.

“So...you *all* have found your soulmates?” She asks, eyeing Jungkook again. Jungkook flashes a bright smile and his eyes land on me.

Under his gaze, I feel my cheeks heat up and I giggle, hiding my face in my hands. Jungkook answers the question before anyone else can. “Yes, we’re all lucky to have met our soulmates. Most of our soulmates have already moved to Korea to come join us, and my soulmate should hopefully be moving there soon,” he says excitedly. The interviewer sighs, obviously upset at the answer to the question, but she pushes on through the interview. However, her enthusiasm has definitely waned since the question about their soulmates.

At the end of the interview, they wait for the camera to cut out, then thank the interviewer and leave the stage. As soon as they’re off the main stage, Jungkook runs over to me and pulls me into a big hug. “Now everyone knows that we’ve found our soulmates!” He says excitedly, swinging home in a circle. I squeal loudly, holding tight to him.

“Careful, careful! Don’t hurt anyone!” I giggle. Finally, he sets me on my feet again and I lean into his side, continuing to talk to him. The other members gather around us and all talk animatedly about the interview. They all seem very excited to have been able to tell their fans about their soulmates.

Soon after, a few men in suits begin to lead the group members away from the interview stage and towards the back of the building. Jungkook keeps my hand firmly is his, leading me along behind him. We’re lead to the back of the building where a van similar to the one I arrived in is parked. They all climb into the van and get buckled before we’re sped away from the interview building. “Where are we going now?” I ask curiously, watching buildings flash by the windows.

“They’re taking us back to the hotel and we’ll have dinner together tonight to celebrate the interview. But, right now I’m just thinking about cuddling up with you in the hotel room,” Jungkook tells me. In the row in front of us, Taehyung gags and Jungkook scoffs, hitting his head lightly. Taehyung throws his hands over his head, ducking. I giggle lightly, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle it. Taehyung frowns at Jungkook, rubbing his head and Jungkook just smiles sweetly.

When we reach the hotel, we all climb out and we’re lead into the hotel. We use the elevator that is usually used for celebrity guests and all make our way to our rooms. All the boys have separate rooms on the same floor, so they all say ‘goodbye’ until tonight and separate. Jungkook leads me into his room and we settle together on the couch, flicking on the TV. Calmly, we cuddle together and just watch random shows. That is how we spend our time until the dinner that night, cuddling and talking to one another. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

#dirty kpop snaps #kpop fanfic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts soulmate au #jungkook soulmate au #soulmate au

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something-fanfiction-ie · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse of kidnapping. Again, details of murder/crime scenes, curse words.

A/N: Hello, hello, hello! So, again, I find myself having to cut this in half. I originally planned on the team getting to you at this point in the story but I got a little carried away. I’ve been thinking about this series so much that it’s ridiculous. Low-key wish I’d been able to direct a CM episode like this. The things I could do with a camera... solely focused on Matthew for a 45 minute episode. Heh. Anyways, remember to like, comment, reblog, send me asks, and basically do the job of producing serotonin for me like my brain is supposed to do naturally. Thank you so much for sticking around and I’ll be sure to get the next part out to you ASAP!

___

[ Part One | Part Two | Part Three ]

It was hours later before Spencer felt the incessant buzzing of his phone against his thigh.

Immediately annoyed and already tired of the day, he didn’t even bother to look at the caller ID before sending it straight to voicemail. Blindly, he rummaged around in the bottom of his satchel for his keys. Spots danced across the back of his left eyelid as he tried to rub the exhaustion away.

Everything about today had been awful. From finding out the girl of his dreams, who he had only known for three weeks, mind you, could be a serial killer to the fact that, without you, nothing made any sense in this case. Even if you weren’t the unsub, you were an integral piece to finding out who was.

After you had left the office earlier this afternoon, Spencer had made it his mission to investigate every other person connected to you. He’d even gone so far as to track down your father to the other side of the globe, having somehow made his way to Europe in order to stay out of you and your mother’s lives.

Try as he might, every possible lead led to a brick wall spray painted to say, ‘She’s the killer.’ Having spent most of the day trying to convince himself that you were the unsub, he was tired of fighting his instincts for fear of compromising himself. Something wasn’t right in this investigation and he just couldn’t figure out what it was.

When his phone started to buzz again as he pushed the key into the key hole, he couldn’t help the sudden surge of anger that seemed to take over his body. Hastily yanking one hand from the door, he reaches into his pocket and presses the answering button.

“Hello, this is Dr. Reid.” His tone is harsh and mechanically echoes back into his ear. Whoever is on the other side of the line is quiet for one second, then two. For five seconds no one responds and Spencer has the time to balance the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so that he could go about removing his bag and shuffling into his car.

“You really thought it was her, didn’t you, Dr. Reid?” Although the natural pitch of the voice suggests a woman, or maybe even a young boy, there is an underlying tone that suggests that it’s a man. Spencer is frozen in place, his bag sitting in the passenger seat of his car, one hand on the inside of the door and the other on the steering wheel.

Slowly, he reaches up to relieve his shoulder from the duty of holding his phone, his long fingers curling around the device. His eyes squinted, the way they usually did when he was thinking. With his other hand, nervously, he reaches up to push away a curl that has escaped from behind his ear.

“Who is this?” He regrets the question the moment it falls from his lips. Someone who has gone the painstaking lengths that this man has gone through to keep himself out of the investigation would not simply reveal his identity when no one even had a suspicion of him.

“Wrong question, Doctor. Try again.” Swallowing past the lump that has started to form in his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the action, Spencer stretches back across the driver seat of his car to grab his bag. The leather strap digs into the palm of his hand and he drags it toward him, feeling like he was stuck on rewind as he goes about undoing everything he’d just done.

“What do you want?” The click of the door lock is the only sound for three seconds before the man responds again, a sadistic excitement escalating the pitch of his voice.

“Out of life? From a specific restaurant? Be specific in your questioning, Doctor.” He laughs a little breathlessly. In the moments where he doesn’t talk, Spencer strains to hear anything that could help him, but he can’t even hear the guy breathe let alone identify background noise.

“What is your purpose in calling me?” Getting back into the building is a hassle while on the phone, but he manages it nonetheless. There would be no sleeping tonight after a call like this. The elevator button glows a pale yellow as Spencer stabs it with one of his long fingers. For now they are steady, his hands that is, but the full effect of what is happening and what it means hasn’t actually hit him full force yet.

“To inform you of two things; the first being that you are wrong. I killed all those people and I killed them because of you.” The breath in his throat hitches. All of his worst dreams and nightmares have come crawling out of the woodworking and across his skin like thousands of tiny spiders.

“The second being that I’ll be hanging out with our mutual friend for a while, so you may not see her for a little bit.” There is a creaking of a door before he hears you. Your voice is already hoarse from screaming and the sound of restraints clacking against a concrete flooring puts the picture of you in a dungeon deep into his head.

“Spencer?! Spencer his name i-” The sound of a hand making contact with skin makes Spencer’ blood boil with rage.

Curling into the corner of the elevator, hunching his shoulders into himself and covering an ear with the palm of his opposite hand, Spencer speaks slowly and deliberately into the speaker.

“Do not touch her.” The man on the line chuckles, reaching out to run a finger along the edge of your jawline. You snatch your head away, your slapped cheek already turning pink, and push back against the wall.

“I’m afraid it’s already too late for that. Happy hunting.” The doors of the elevator open as soon as the line goes dead. Everything in Spencer kicks into overdrive, his mind flying so fast that he could barely manage to keep up with it himself.

Hotch, ready to leave for the day, stands in the opening. The tired look in eyes only grows when he sees the young profiler standing in his way, his face drained of blood and his phone still desperately clutched to his ear.

“What’s happened?”

Not so far away, the door to the empty, concrete basement shuts you in by yourself. Around your ankle is a handcuff attached to a car chain that is anchored to the floor. If you crawl to it, dragging your injured leg behind you, you can see the shoddy soldering done to create this makeshift dungeon.

In the corner is a mattress with a thin cotton blanket probably from dollar general or somewhere equally as cheap. A lamp sits beside it, the wooden bottom nailed into the floor to keep you from using it as a weapon. The only other thing is a wooden chair that is planced just below a high rectangle window. A couple of desperate shakes against the leg confirms that it is also nailed to the floor.

With nothing of use, save maybe the blanket, you go about taking a collection of your injuries.

The top of your head is leaking a steady stream of blood that drips down the side of your face and sticks your hair to your cheek. The sight of so much blood coming from your head is alarming at first, but just as quickly as you started to panic, you remember that head wounds can bleed quite a lot. No matter how small.

On the opposite side as your head injury is a deep cut on your cheekbone. It has stopped bleeding, dry blood clogged around the torn skin and flaking along your cheek when you run your finger over it.

Your thigh is a different issue all together, the knife wound throbbing with pain no matter how you shift or apply pressure. You’ve coated your hands in gloves made of your own blood trying to staunch the bleeding, hissing and whimpering the whole time.

All three injuries had happened in a matter of minutes, starting with the knife to your thigh.

You drove for an hour and a half toward nowhere in particular, only pulling off the road when the gun jammed into your neck and Harvey snapped at you from the back.

“Turn right on the dirt road.” The tiny car bumped and bounced around the dirt and gravel, driving straight for another fifteen minutes. You were surrounded by nothing but trees and hills and although you’d been familiar with the area where you’d pulled off the road, you weren’t sure where you were.

When the gun jammed back into your neck and Harvey screamed for you to stop, you slammed so hard on the brakes that he rocked forward and hit his head on the back of the passenger seat. The crunch of his breaking nose was sickening to your ears, but the bite of the seat belt digging into your collarbone and neck was enough to keep you from vomiting.

“You bitch!” He cried, the hand not holding a gun to your neck flew up to catch the blood that fell from his nose. Despite his attempts, a drop or two still managed to fall to the floor and soak into the fabric. His DNA would be on this car, you could only hope that he was in some sort of system. Even now, after everything you’d been through today, you still trusted the team of FBI Agents to find you before it was too late.

The safety on the gun made a clicking noise, your entire body freezing in place as you looked at everything around you. You were in a big dirt field, trees surrounding a patch of land that may have once been the grounds for a home. Now, only your car, a red SUV, and red soil were the only things there to see.

Harvey moved around in the back seat, you could see him in your rear view mirror as he pulled tissues from his pocket and shoved them into his broken nose. When he was finished he pulled out a pocket knife. His eyes were two beady slits of black as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“We’re going to get out of this car, and get into that car right over there. I’ll get in the driver’s seat, and you get in the trunk. Understood?” Sweat slicked your hair to your temples as you shook your head, your grip on the steering wheel so tight that your fingertips had started to tingle.

“You aren’t a good shot, Harvey. The moment we get out of this car, I’ll run.” The knife in his hand popped to attention at your words, gleaming in the sunlight. Somehow, it was only four o’clock in the afternoon and you had already been through hell.

“You won’t be able to.” He said, his hand shooting forward and sinking into your leg. Through the shock of it all, you’d barely felt it even after he pulled the bloody knife back and flipped it shut. You gaped at the wound, watching as the blood seeped out, soaked into your pants, and smeared onto the leather covering of your seat.

The back door opened, the car still alive and thrumming underneath you as he hurried over to your side of the car. You didn’t think, you just acted, throwing the car out of park and letting the adrenaline pumping through your veins mask the pain it caused you to slam on the gas.

Maybe you would have made it, drove out of here and been able to make it to a hospital before you bled out in your own car, but it had been raining nearly nonstop for three weeks and your car was not made to go fast in mud. Your tires spun long enough for Harvey to throw your door open and slam the butt of his gun into your head, causing your face to slam into the steering wheel and render you unconscious.

By the time you came back to yourself, Harvey had been carrying you down the steps and into a basement or cellar of some kind. You had no idea where you were or how long you had been out, only that your entire body was sore and cold.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good. I wanted to apologize about earlier, you just made me a little angry. But we’re better now. I even took those bloody clothes off you. I’ve got your room made up for you and if you’re good, I might let you talk to a friend of ours.” His tone is cheerful, his dark eyes complimenting the dark bags underneath them.

Harvey had been in several of your classes when you went to Georgetown, a friendly face amongst all the older kids who used to sneer at you when you tried to do anything. You wouldn’t actually say you were friends, just two people who were kind to each other. Later, once you parted ways after graduation, he became the personal assistant of your agent. He told you he was just trying to make ends meet while he was going back to school for his masters. It was such a surprise to see you again!

Then last month he quit after the death of his mother, thanking your agent for the experience and moving back to whatever town it was he used to lived in that you never bothered to ask about. Agents have multiple clients, yours was no exception, so you thought nothing of the change in personal assistants based solely on the fact that you barely noticed. Her life didn’t revolve around you and yours didn’t revolve around her.

But now, locked in a basement wearing nothing but your underwear and a tank top, blood soaking through a bandage around your thigh, with the really cute man you’d based a character on believing that you were a serial killer, you wish you’d noticed him more.

...

Garcia was the one to suggest looking at the security footage of the parking lot. She’d been clacking away on her tablet and trying to not seem disappointed about being dragged back to the BAU so quickly, when someone asked where you would have gone from here.

“What if he took her from here?” Everyone had looked at her with varying degrees of peculiar looks. Someone being kidnapped from the parking lot of a building full of FBI Agents? It would be comical if kidnappings weren’t a serious issue. Ironic. That’s the word Penelope was looking for. It was ironic.

“I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look at the security footage but her lawyer walked her to her car, it was broad daylight. What are the-” Prentiss’ mouth snaps shut and her lips purse just a little when Penelope brings up the video on the big screen.

Just thirty minutes before you walk outside, a small and stocky figure jimmies open your back door and slides in. He must slide to the passenger side of the backseat because he disappears from view. While he isn’t dressed in an extremely unusual manner, the hat and the black hoodie he is wearing help to hide his identity from the camera hanging over him.

Fast forward thirty minutes and all eyes trained to you as you drop your keys and bend to pick them up. Guilt hits every single member on the team, Spencer probably more than the rest, when they watch your head drop into your hands once you’re in the confines of your car.

An arm extends across the backseat, coming into view of the camera as the unsub presses a gun into your neck. In a matter of fourty-five seconds, you start the car and pull out of the parking spot.

“So we can rule out Jeremy.” Spencer says plainly, shuffling the papers in front of him as he thinks. Across the table Hotch nods his head in agreement. Jeremy was tall, maybe an inch shorter than Spencer, and he while he had an athletic build it was more lean muscle than the wide and stocky build the unsub had.

Penelope is quick to gather her things and head for her office, already planning on trying to follow your path through traffic cameras. It would be a grueling process, but it was the least she could do after digging through your life to, unintentionally, frame you for eight murders you didn’t commit.

“We interviewed everyone she has a connection to, in state or not. She’s an extremely low-risk victim, her circles don’t run that big.” Morgan has his own tablet pulled into his lap and he tilts his chair this way and that. A coin weaves in and out of his fingers and his forehead wrinkles as he goes over the list in his mind.

“Then we’ve already talked to our unsub, we just have to figure out which one it was.”

The first names to go are those out of state; your mother, your father, your best friend, and a handful of people you were connected to through the publishing firm. While the remaining names are few in numbers, it still puts Spencer on edge. They didn’t have the kind of time to be wasting energy of persons of interest, they needed one name identifying their unsub.

Nevertheless, the names are split amongst the group of profilers who work tirelessly through the night. The sun soon rises and glares through the window of the BAU conference room, putting Spencer Reid right into it’s spotlight.

There are bags under his eyes, eyes that take longer to open every time he blinks. He’s read the same paragraph eight different times, his cheek perched against the heel of his palm and his elbow propped on the tabletop. When he pushes back from the table, taking the file with him as he tries to walk away the exhaustion, it isn’t for the first time that night.

All he can think about is that final look you gave him as you walked out the door. It was a look of complete and utter betrayal, like you’d been trying to convince yourself that he was somehow oblivious in your being accused of the murders and seeing him there had been a punch of truth in the gut. He’d gone forward when you stumbled, reflexively reaching out to steady you on your feet before his mind could process the action.

Spencer has been doing that since he met you, trying to protect you like he was a giant ball of bubble wrap around you. He’d done it that day in the bookstore, throwing all precautions to the wind when he held the back of your head to keep you from hitting that bookshelf. He’s done it several times at a coffee shop you both enjoy visiting on his days off, physically maneuvering your body when he realizes that your current trajectory will cause you to ram your hip into a table corner.

One time, he’d been walking with you across the street when a man on a bicycle had come flying out of nowhere. You’d been just a step in front of him, your head tilted over your shoulder and your hands flying around with animation as you told him a story. Truly, he wasn’t sure how he knew to reach out and grab your shoulders, you have a way of telling stories that makes the entire world fall away. Yet, as if he was Spider-Man or something, every cell in his body suddenly cried out and he didn’t hesitate in pulling you back.

The force Spencer used to pull your body into his chest had sent you both tumbling to the sidewalk behind you.

“Are you okay?” You’d said, turning so that you were hovering over him with the sun framing you like a halo around your head. Surely you could feel the rapid escalation of his heartbeat with the way you tenderly place one of your small hands over his chest.

In the end he had to pull you to the side of the busy street to put a band-aid on your elbow where it had hit the concrete. It had been in the bottom of your bag and it had Scooby-Doo on it.

Despite his eidetic memory, some moments always manage to fade a little more than others. Some moments stick out more, like when you had reached out to smooth a stray curl away from his face. Your fingers were featherlight against his temple, your head tilted just a little to the side, and a soft smile stretched your lips.

“You’re my guardian angel.”

Some guardian angel he was, accusing you of murder on eight accounts and then letting you be kidnapped by someone who had no qualms about slapping you. God only knows what else he was comfortable with.

“I’ve got a lead!” Garcia burst into the room, her chest heaving as she sent videos and pictures to the screen for everyone to see. Spencer couldn’t see her face as she bent over her tablet, punching in information and instructions, but he nearly peppered it with kisses when she started to explain what they were all seeing.

“I managed to track (Y/N) to a little town about and hour and a half away when she, probably on purpose, ran a red light just in front of a gas station.” The video of your car creeping through a four-way traffic light until it turned red and captured you on camera was time stamped for yesterday afternoon around four o’clock.

“If you look closely, she turns onto a dirt road just a few seconds later,” Sure enough, every eye in the room watches as your car disappears behind a cluster of trees across from the BP on the left side of the video. “Satellite pictures show that little dirt road leads to one house that burned down a year ago.”

Mouths open, cogs turns, but Penelope Garcia once again proves her intelligence when she merely waves one hand in their direction and uses the other hand to pull up several documents and articles.

“Don’t sweat it. There’s no connection at all. Belonged to a Martin and Elisa Lewis back in the fifties before it was abandoned in the seventies. It was a local haunt where teenagers went to smoke, get drunk, have parties, and do the crazy and reckless things teenagers love to do. One of these reckless things led to a fire and burned the place down. But what’s important is what leaves this place fourty-eight minutes and twenty seconds after (Y/N)’s car enters.”

The video jumps forward in time, resuming as a red SUV pulls off the road and comes back for the stoplight. They can’t manage to get a license plate, the car being recently purchased by the unsub and the paper temporary being stuck to the inside of a tinted window, and they don’t manage to get a good image of the unsub driving. It feels, for a quarter of a second, as if there is no lead at all, until Spencer jumps to his feet.

“We need to see if her car is still there.”

The hour and a half drive takes fifty minutes with their lights on, mud kicking up beneath their tires as they pull into the empty lot. Your car sits abandoned in the middle, your back tires sunk into a pile of mud. The mass collection of blood on your driver’s seat makes Spencer nauseas. Rossi gives him a reassuring pat on the back.

It does nothing for Spencer’s nerves. He is truly the worst guardian angel ever.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

warnings: extremely negative feelings towards a sibling, distressing / intrusive thoughts. placed under a break due to the content of the message. remember, I'm not a mental health professional.

updated with additional viewpoints from readers at the bottom!

I'm sorry in advance.

I really hate my older sister. She never respects my boundaries, insults me frequently, and is just annoying and hypocritical in general.

I've always had these issues with her, but she lived at her own apartment away from me and the rest of my family, so I've been able to control my hatred of her. But last year in March she moved back in and sold her apartment. She has no plans of leaving anytime soon, and I can't stand her.

We shared a bedroom for about a year because we were also taking care of my cousin who also moved in with us last year. My cousin has since moved out, but my sister is unfortunately here to stay for a couple of years. But with extra space, I was able to move into the spare bedroom and thought that would be the end of my problems.

It wasn't. In fact, she has become even more unbearable. The hardest part of this relationship is that she has a weird obsession with being with me. I'm not sure if this is because she loves me, or she's just weird. I think she's weird because my parents never act like she does.

Our bedrooms are right next to each other. There's really no reason for her to miss me. But every single fucking minute she's coming into my room to bother me. I would have more empathy for her if she acknowledged my limits, but she doesn't.

She's constantly cuddling me after I've said for MONTHS that I don't enjoy it and it makes me uncomfortable. She constantly belittles me by saying I couldn't live without her, and that I would be a mess if it wasn't for her (mind you, I've lived without her at the house for YEARS and I was perfectly fine). She's constantly in my business, interrogating me about every little thing. She once locked the door and wouldn't let me leave the room without answering her questions for 20 minutes; she asked me about a $30 Amazon order containing manga I ordered with MY OWN MONEY. And I had permission for my parents to order it! It wasn't her business whatsoever.

I've tried to keep her out numerous times; I've gotten in trouble for it. My parents say I'm being mean and that this is her way of loving me. What I feel like they ignore is that I'M UNCOMFORTABLE. Her way of "loving me" HURTS.

I've tried communication. I've had multiple meetings with my family about my boundaries and they say they'll change, but they never do.

Another factor that worsens this is that I have borderline personality disorder. I'm currently being denied therapy or intervention of any kind. I get told my mental illness is a result of me having an attitude and hating my family.

I writing this to you because I've been having very alarming thoughts recently. I'm been somewhat suicidal as long as I can remember, but this is different. I've been having nightmares about killing my family/my family killing me. I don't want to kill my family. As much as they have abused me, I know they truly love me deep down. But when I'm in a mental breakdown, I don't think for the most part. I'm afraid I'm going to do something to hurt them if they continue to push me. I'm too scared to turn myself into the police and I don't want to be taken away from my home. I truly need therapy, but it's expensive and I'm not allowed to get it.

Are there any options left for me? I love my family and I want to get better, but I can't stand them. It'll be a while before I can live on my own, and I don't think I'll make it that long.

I'm so sorry.

I appreciate that you came to me, however, please remember I am not a mental health professional.

I do not have the best relationship with my family. I've come to accept that they just exist and I moved away from them. I keep a strict level of familiarity with them for my own sanity and well-being. There are people in my immediate family I don't talk to anymore or only speak to in certain situations, with other people around to buffer my emotions. No one in my family understands or respects my mental health issues and I have ceased talking about it with them.

I will admit, I had to ask for help. I'm going to share the answer of someone I trust, because they are much more level-headed when it comes to something like this.

Use different words with your sister. Instead of "I'm mad or annoyed", use words that bring out more empathy - "You're making me sad and uncomfortable. You're hurting me." Anger is usually perceived as something within you, something you must control. But sadness is usually not perceived in the same light. People usually see sadness as something that has a cause and perhaps letting her know that she is the cause will have an effect on her. Using different words when speaking to her may slowly change her perspective.

When it comes to your parents, well, parents do not usually understand sibling dynamics. They're fucking useless most of the time when it comes to problems specifically between siblings. It might be better if you say something like, "Her constant intrusions are affecting my school work. My grades are going to drop." Usually, parents respond more urgently if you say you education is affected - and it doesn't matter if it's true or not, we're just trying to get them to help in some way.

I had to remind them it's summertime lol

Oh shit, you're right. Er. Well, In any case, it seems you've tried having reasonable discussions with your parents and it doesn't seem helpful to continue discussing this particular topic with them. Maybe get into fitness since it's summertime. Go outside, do something active. She can't cuddle you if you're running, right? Then you can also be stronger and feeling better physically improves mental health. Put some music on, go hiking or running, take yourself out of the situation.

I don't know if this is possible, but perhaps if you're experiencing a mental breakdown and you're afraid of hurting your family, run out of the house? It might be better to be physically away from them at that time to avoid saying or doing anything you regret. It may help clear your head and help your family realize that this is something that is truly debilitating to you.

I don't know your age, so I don't know if the school thing is relevant. It's only a suggestion.

You said it will be a while before you can live on your own. When I knew the cons of living with my family outweighed the pros, I did everything in my power to prepare myself for leaving because I needed a goal in order to survive. I needed distractions, reading, writing, gaming, music, anything else to occupy my mind and help control my thoughts. There was a time when I needed music to fall asleep (headphones in on low volume).

Also... uh.

I'm not saying you should do this. I'm only saying I did.

My siblings and I have physically fought before. One has scars from fighting me. The scarred one is the one closest to me currently.

Not saying you should do it.

But I did.

If anyone feels comfortable enough to share how they dealt with it in their own situation, please do. Maybe more perspectives can help this person.

some other experiences sent to me:

anon #1

I don't think I had a situation that extreme but my brother was a little like that. I honestly had to become kinda rude and indifferent. Like he'd always use my laptop and stuff and I put passwords on everything and just don't tell him. And then when he tried to hug or cuddle id say I don't liek it and just push him away physically now this soudns fucking obvious when I say it this way but like I don't think I read that u tried it ? Idk I discovered I have a loud annoying scream that neighbours will hear, and fucking strokg legs I used to kick him away but like I was tiny so I don't really endorse violence but I didnt like being close to a 'boy' essentially at taht age so yea... Idk man siblings are weird and I have had intrusive thoughts so I think I didn't handle it well but for a few years I became an asshole to him and then now I'm good with talking sometimes and I keep it short and sweet and I've mentioned that I'm sorry for being mean in the past bcuz like I am ? Bcuz I'm not an asshole ? ( But like I did what I had to do ) I hope u get the help and support u need

anon #2

I read the message from the previous anon and I have to say I relate to what they say. I wouldn’t say i’ve completely dealt with the situation when it comes to my parents.

I have 4 siblings and i’m the oldest, my sister that’s 2 years younger than me always gets in my way and is a tyrant. Because she’s much taller than me she overpowers me and i also have scars from when we’ve fought. My parents don’t intervene because they say we’ll make up soon and I honestly can’t stay mad at people for long. I also live with my parents and am not able to move out anytime soon until I get my degree.

A few weeks ago my mother was complaining to my father that I don’t help around the house and all that bullshit but it’s obviously not true. Anyway. My father came into my room and threw all my clothes from my cupboards on the floor and said my sister and I must get out of his house. He was literally pulling us and we were crying because where the hell would we go. My smaller siblings were begging for him not to chase us out of the house but he was ballistic. He was constantly throwing insults at me, calling me selfish and disrespectful. I was having a mental breakdown and I said i hope that God takes my life away because i’m too weak to do it myself. I kept saying that and when my parents heard me. They called me crazy and were laughing at me and said i should take it back because instead of me another one of my family members would go.

My parents don’t care about mental health and therapy. It’s all unnecessary to them. But after that night I tried to find my own way of getting rid of the negative thoughts, I choose to ignore what everyone tells me. I agree with everything that you said about trying to get away from their family when they have those thoughts. I try meditation and praying. I’m not sure if that person follows any religion but that’s what helped me. And writing can be cathartic. Also remember that you’re not alone, there are so many people out there who share your sorrows and can relate to your situation. I think about my little siblings who i’m close to and what it would be like if i wasn’t there.

Maybe if they could get a pet? I know having a pet can make you feel less alone and you feel a sense of responsibility towards them. As for their sister, she needs to see their point of view and tell her that she makes her feel overwhelmed with the things she does. She can spend time with her and try to make her understand that they need their space too.

anon #3

I also have sum advice 4 the sibling anon frm a fellow bpd buddy:

Does ur view of ur sister change from "i hate her" to "she's alright" sometimes? Viewing sum1 as all bad or all good is common in bpd ppl and usually changes alot. I rec writing down the moments where she shows she loves u. This could be thru buying smth for u or doing smth 4 u. I had a similar relationship w a friend and this exercise helped me remember that she might not have intentions to hurt me and might b trying 2 bond. Repairing the relationship might take a while. Talk alot if u can, it seems like ur family is at least willing to hear u out, even if there behavior doesn't change much. Keep sum distance if needed. Working out and finding fun hobbies is good.

If u feel like ur breaking down, try breathing exercises n identify 5 things u notice thru ur senses. What do u feel? What do u smell? What do u taste? What do u see? What do u hear? I personally like taking myself down rabbit holes. For example: I see a yellow jacket > this shade of yellow is a cool tone > what makes a color "cool" or "warm" > why do we associate red with warmth > what if the sun was blue > what if ocean water looked orange > is water wet

I usually end up forgetting what was making me upset. If it was a big deal I would still remember, but at least I would b less emotional and a bit more rational.

Search up cognitive behavior therapy and dialectical behavior therapy and try 2 practice sumthing similar 2 exercises u would perform w a therapist. Squeeze stress balls. Masturbate (this blog is perfect 4 that lol). Maybe watch some videos done by therapists on youtube. I watched a couple of videos abt therapists reacting 2 fighting in movies and I learned alot (this video was very fun to watch)!

Anyway that's what helps me! Good luck 2 u!!!

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normal-thoughts-official · 3 years

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I.t.a (Identity thief anon)

I thought I had replied (if I did and you just hadn't post it it's 1000% fine ahshs)

I love Elliott so much!! And his crush is so cute (but also looking at the bigger picture is hilarious that I killed his would be father in law lmao) also awfullest thing pixelberry did was making me choose if I wanted to be his legal guardian or if I wanted him to be emancipated only to not have to do any of them since, you know, our grandpa was still alive...

Also I thought about it way too much for a choice (with no actual impact) in a game ahshshshhs, emotionally wise I'd have wanted to be his legal guardian but I think it'd make more sense (legally) emancipation because he would still get government help but there wouldn't be a risk of someone taking him away of in case I wasn't a successful guardian, and he could apply for scholarships more easily while I worked or something lmao I was just excited in that part.

I know there are some books in which you can be poly but the only I remember was moty (mother of the year) which was a better than expected book (to be fair I didn't goof have expectations) and in that one I started to date the three love interests <3

How far along are you in endless summer, who are you romancing, what do you think of the classmates + lila and what do you think about the story in general 👀

u hadnt replied!!!! hi i missed you!!

i didnt know u could be polyam in moty! i might try it out then, i never gave it a shot cuz i hate the idea of having kids 😬 but anything for rep i guess

and YEAH I KNOW DIDNDIDNDO i love elliot so much and him and robbie are SO cute together but damn his in law straight up tried to kill us huh. like robbie deserves better than bobert or whatever his name is and im glad to have killed him but

also okay im in the middle of the second book idnfidndidndo around the part where the arachnids show up for jake. my opinions so far are kind of messy but uhhh

grace and raj are my faves, hands down. craig is a close second

i like almost everyone except for jake because hes just military propaganda in a trenchcoat with that annoying wahh im too conflicted to care about anyone white boy complex, and aleister because he was a dick to grace. idc how much he simps for her now she deserves better than him. and Quinn is kind of whatever. like her whole personality is uwu and its kind of annoying but i dont hate her or anything

the story is such a fucking mess?? udndidn i have NO CLUE whats going on 😩 if they manage to make everything make sense by the end ill be REALLY impressed cuz damn wtf is going on

im romancing sean!!!!!! what can i say, i have a type and that type is self sacrificial idiot. he has a heart of gold and he deserves better and aaaa 😭😭 u idiot man stop putting ur life in danger as the instinctual reaction BLEASE. i just want to wrap him in a blanket and make him take care of himself for once

i also like estela a lot but im not really that interested in romancing her ig? i enjoy our moments together but my feelings for her are more casual ig

i rlly want to like lila but i cannot stand her simping for discount tony stark my god. please lord just make it end

i rlly like everyone's dynamics???? its so nice to see how the group has been growing together more and more. i love them ❤️

i LOVE the vaanti. every last one of them. my beloveds. if they tried to kill us it's cuz theyre valid

varyyn and diego are the greatest couple this game has ever given me i am SO grateful for them. i just got to their first kiss and aaaaaa it was so sweet. upset at choices for not giving me art of their kiss when i had to watch aleister and grace's but 😩 its fine im fine. holding onto hope that ill get art of them eventually but i dont want to look it up and risk spoiling myself

i actually like craig and zahra as a couple a lot too which i didnt expect. i still dont fully understand what happened between them but i really hope they work it out :(

on that note i love zahra. anticapitalist queen. cant believe she fucking hacked wall street. id die for this woman even tho she wasted tiramisu

tbh i dont wanna get off the island. like what for? to go to college? when i could stay with the cool vaanti culture and be happy and not have to worry about capitalism and have sick ass tattoos? lets just kill tony stark and stay there besties

really like how they made the MC's past a mystery? like yeah we have absolutely zero past and backstory as per usual but this time it actually is an integral part of the story that we dont know that we were born in la huerta or basically anything about ourselves truly (even tong stinky didn't so like?). and it was nice to see that being a part of the story rather than just this weird feeling of detachment from the MC

the MC is so stupid and i love him

sean and craig are gay for each other. michelle and quinn are gay for each other. i diagnose everyone with gay

i literally dont have a single theory as to what the hell is going on like not one. and i have gotten almost every clue/idol/file but like i literally have no idea how to tie all of this together. this is such a mess didndkdndkdndidn im kind of excited to see what happens because ES seems to be so popular in the fandom i can only imagine the plot is gonna blow my mind, but im kind of afraid of being disappointed

and thats all ive got so far i think? udndidjd god

#playchoices #endless summer #anti jake mckenzie #anti aleister rourke #ask #identity thief anon

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ashtraythief · 3 years

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I just got around to watching the finale. I did not care for it at all. I feel like dean deserved better. sam really moved on with this random person the audience doesn’t even meet? I dunno, threw me off. What did you think?

Hi nonnie,

I’m sorry you didn’t like the finale. I had prepared myself for not liking it because I didn’t think Dabb would come up with something I’d enjoy, so I feel you. However, I really loved it. Yeah, the script wasn’t perfect, and the pacing was weird, and they really missed some things they should have included, but for me the ep really delivered where it counted.

Of course Dean deserved better. Everyone on the show who wasn’t a villain deserved better. But Supernatural has always been a horror show, a gritty show about pain and loss, about fighting and clawing your way out of whatever the bad guys throw at you. The show kinda lost track of that in recent years, when it became super bright and when death became almost meaningless because everyone could be resurrected at any point. But if you go back to the dark grittiness of the first few seasons… That’s the Supernatural I fell in love with and it’s the Supernatural I missed during the last years.

Neither Sam nor Dean deserved to lose their mother so young. They didn’t deserve to lose their father, so many of their friends. They didn’t deserve so many things that happened to them. But that's the story Supernatural told. As far as the mode of Dean’s death goes, I think it’s perfect (so is Sam’s. more on that later). Sam and Dean are human. They’re ordinary men. They don’t have superpowers (apart from Sam’s demon blood powers, but that doesn’t apply here). They became the great hunters they are through hard training and lots of experience. And after they defeated the final villain and freed themselves from their destiny, they chose to go on hunting. They knew they’d lost their plot armor. They knew the next death would be final. And they knew that on their job, it was a possibility. One of them dying on a hunt makes it real. It makes the stakes real and it makes their willingness to sacrifice real. It’s a true hero's death.

Dean has always said he’d go down fighting. And he’s been okay with this for many, many seasons. He even tells us when he dies that it’s okay. Dean never really wanted out of the life, even when he did it with Lisa it was only because it was Sam’s dying wish. So many times we see him choose hunting over the apple pie life. For better or worse, Dean was at his best driving the impala with his brother next to him and hunting monsters. And watching him age and retire? It doesn’t sit right with me. And if Sam had been the one to die… no. Protecting Sammy is such a big part of Dean, such a core make up of his being, it would have been so much crueler than him dying. It helps that Jensen delivered the barn scene in a way that made me sob ugly tears but also left me deeply satisfied. And then Dean does go to heaven. He gets the most eternal of the happily ever afters.

I personally always wanted the blaze of glory ending to feed my id because I really like people who love each other dying together in a gunfight, but that’s just me :D This felt honestly perfect.

As for Sam… I don’t think he really moved on. Yes, he quit hunting, and yes, he had a kid, but the random person (if it’s only one. he’s no wearing a wedding ring in one of the montage scenes which is probably a costume screw up, but it leaves room to interpretation that whatever romantic partners Sam had, they didn’t stick around for long. they certainly weren’t there when he died. a string of exes? One wife, the mother of Dean jr. and after that living as a bachelor?), but the random person doesn’t really matter. We all already know that Sam and Dean are the most important people for each other. No new romantic partner could ever measure up to the importance of Dean anyway. And then there’s the scene where old Sam gets into the Impala, grips the wheel tight and just grieves. So, no, I don't think he moved on. He promised Dean to keep going, to live his life, and so he did. And the beginning of the ep is some heavy-handed foreshadowing about living your life so the sacrifice of the fallen are worth it. Dean always wanted Sam to get out, to have an apple pie life. Sam loved hunting, but he told us many episodes ago he couldn’t do it without his brother. And so Sam did what Dean asked him to. And he was certainly happy for parts of it. We see him being a happy dad, a good dad. His son clearly loved him. But Sam never forgot Dean. He wore Dean’s watch his entire life, was still wearing it on his deathbed. He kept the impala in the garage, at that time in the montage the car is at least seventy years old and Sam still uses it as a place to remember his brother. And when Sam dies, his son, who bears Dean’s name and who wears the hunter tattoo, knowing enough about his father’s history, tells Sam it’s okay, that he can go now. Sam lived a full life, but he always waited for the moment where he’d see Dean again too. Sam’s life, I think, is the real tragedy in Supernatural. (not that Dean’s story is not a tragedy too. both of these boys had such hard lives, and they made the best of it.)

Supernatural is a horror show, a tragedy. Sam and Dean sacrificed everything, bore more pain and sorrow than a single human should be able to. And in the end, they got the purest reward: together in heaven.

And in this, Supernatural did something that always drew me to this show: its lack of romance. In most media, the romantic relationship is the most important one, the one without the happily ever after isn't possible. But for Sam and Dean, it's not romance, it’s each other. And Supernatural stuck to that. If both of the boys had retired to the white picket fence life to live as a car mechanic and a lawyer with respective partners and 2.5 kids, I probably would have rage-quit the show. I don’t know what you would have wanted for the show, but I know lots of people wanted the happy romance at the end. I never did. Supernatural was never about the romance and I was glad it stayed that way. It’s a rare sight in today’s media landscape.

In general, I think it’s hard to separate the I want only the best for my beloved character because I love them so much from I enjoy this kind of narrative, this kind of story telling. And while I think that Supernatural’s narrative has been muddied and even pointless in the later years, certainly since Dabb took over, for me, the finale went back to the roots of what this show is and delivered an end that fit both the narrative and the characters.

I have many more thoughts on this, but it’s always long enough and probably way longer than what you wanted, but this finae gave me way more feelings than I ever anticipated I would. There were some things that annoyed me more initially, but thankfully the episode leaves enough things vague enough for headcanons and fic to make it virtually perfect for me. I hope that you’ll find enough headcanons and fic to make it bearable for you.

#anon asks #carry on #thinky thoughts #spn thoughts #headcanons

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horansqueen · 4 years

Text

You & Me : chapter 29

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.8k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: id love your feedbacks now that theyre happy together and id love to know what you think will happen of what you want to happen so if you read these notes please tell me!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : 4 requests! :) thank you so much!

Chapter 29 : His chapter

NIALL

I kept glancing at her as I drove and I couldn't take that stupid smile off of my lips. Her hair was dancing around her head, sometimes tickling my arm, cheek and neck, and it didn't bother me at all. In fact, I enjoyed it. She put her hand out of the window as it moved in waves because of the wind and the speed of the car on the high way and I loved watching her. She was wearing her stupid heart shaped sunglasses but they were new because these had purple tinted glasses, unlike the pink ones she used to have, and the smell of honey and vanilla reached my nose from time to time. I loved it. I loved her. She looked stunning in the golden hour and despite everything we had been through, at that exact moment, I was so fucking happy I could start flying.

She reached for the volume when one of my songs came on and I laughed as she started singing loud. The smile she was wearing told me I was not the only happy person in this car and I started singing with her, tapping on the wheel as she moved her upper body with the music. When the song was over I felt her reach for my thigh and she squeezed it a bit before turning the volume down again and leaning back against the seat. I could feel her gaze on my side and I was wondering what was burning my skin more : her eyes, or the setting sun hitting on my other cheek?

"Was this song written for a specific one night stand or was it just general?"

"Slow Hands?" I asked, raising my eyebrows before chuckling. "Who says I didn't write it about you?"

"Pretty sure you wrote it when we were not together anymore." she said with a frown.

"No!" I quickly replied after trying to imitate the sound of a 'wrong answer' buzzer from a tv quiz. "I started it when we were together. I just didn't really plan to add it to the album but I ended up thinking that album needed a bit more grit, i wanted something a bit more.. daring?"

She raised her eyebrows as I exited the high way and replaced her hair quickly without much success. It was adorable and I loved it a lot but I didn't mention it.

"That's daring alright. Are you talking about your fingertips or mine?" she asked with a chuckle, making me laugh.

"You decide!"

She chuckled again and I could swear she also rolled her eyes but it was hard to see because of her sunglasses. I parked a bit farther on the road and her eyes left me to look by her window. She shook her head before looking back at me and smiling.

"What?"

"I don't know, I'm always amazed at the number of beaches we can drive by here." she shrugged. "I'm just not used to it."

"You like it?"

She licked her lips and shrugged a bit, glancing down and then looking up at me. "I guess, yea. But I miss London. All the time."

I moved my own glasses up on my head and she took hers off, tilting her head and sending me a soft smile. It was a stupid thought, but at that moment, I felt the need to say it.

"You can always find your home in me." I let out, reaching for her hands and squeezing them. "You're mine, too. You're my home."

Her traits softened and she slowly moved closer, holding herself with both hands on one of my thighs before her lips reached mine. She kissed me softly and I didn't try to deepen the kiss, I just enjoyed the way he lips pressed gently but firmly against mine.

"You're my home too." she whispered, letting her eyes fall down to my laps after moving slightly away. "Unzip your pants."

"Excuse me what?" I asked with a nervous chuckle.

"Unzip your pants." she repeated without skipping a beat.

"I parked here for a walk on the beach, not for.. whatever you had planned." I explained, raising my eyebrows.

"You're not gonna say no to a blowjob twice in a row will you?" she asked, losing her smile but I could still see how amused she was in her eyes. "I'm gonna start doubting my skills."

The left corner of my lips raised and I unzipped my pants, my eyes never leaving hers. Of course I was not going to say no but damn I just hoped we wouldn't get caught. Her lips curled into a big smile before she quickly bend down. It took her half a second to have her lips around my cock and my hand gripped the wheel tight as the leather made an annoying noise. I could feel myself grow hard fast and I whimpered low. She took my dick completely in her mouth and I let out a low 'Jesus Christ' when I felt her fingers play with my balls. I looked around to see if anyone was getting closer and finally blinked a few times, looking down at her head moving up and down on me. I pushed her hair out of the way to see her better and pressed my lips together, feeling one of my legs shake. She normally goes slow and makes sure I can feel her lips on my tip, under my foreskin and down to my balls but this time, she just went fast and hard, letting the tip of my cock hit the back of her throat every time she could. I gripped her hair and licked my lips before they parted.

"Don't move, I'm gonna cum."

Quickly, I moved my hips up and down, thrusting my cock in and out of her mouth fast and hard until my eyes closed and my grip tightened.

"Holy f-, swallow it." I whispered without thinking, only half a second before I felt myself cum hard in her mouth.

I pushed her more on my cock as I felt an intense orgasm hit me like a wave and when I let go of her head, she took my dick out of her mouth but let her tongue run on the length before moving down to my balls and sucking on one. I felt my cock twitch and let out a groan as I heard her chuckle.

I quickly put my cock back in my pants when she moved her head up and the smirk she was sending me made my heart skip a beat.

"You came so fast!" she laughed, making me grimace.

"Shut up! You went so hard on my cock how was I supposed not to cum?"

I could have delayed my orgasm but I didn't see the point, especially since we were in a public place, but I didn't mention it. Of course, it made me nervous to get caught, but at the same time, the thrill was amazing.

"Do you still want to go on the beach?" I suggested, trying to talk about something else, before she nodded.

We both got out of the car and I grabbed my cap, putting it on my head and reaching my hand out for hers. She looked at it for a few seconds and stopped walking before looking up in my eyes. Something stirred in my stomach when she shook her head slightly and my arm fell back on my side. Ouch.

"You just sucked my cock in the car but you don't want to hold my hand?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "No one will recognize us, no one cares!"

I didn't want to be rude but I couldn't pretend her behavior didn't hurt me a bit. I was normally the one who didn't want affection display in public whenever I was in a relationship but I never understood how the girls I dated could feel when I said that. Now, I had a good idea.

"I thought we... agreed that we would just.." she stopped herself and shook her head with a sigh. "I'm sorry Niall, i'm not ready for that, and you don't want that either. You hate PDA remember?"

My traits softened and I sighed, nodding slowly.

"I'm sorry, you're right, and I shouldn't have been so rude."

She licked her lips and after a few seconds, she followed me and we walked side by side on the beach with a small breeze against us. I kept glancing at her and after a while, I felt her fingers brush against mine.

"I love you, you know?" she said in a low tone, making me turn my head her way completely.

"I know, I love you too, I'm sorry, Olivia."

"I'm just.. I'm scared, Niall. Last time ended so badly, and now we're so happy. I don't want things to get bad after we make it official. I don't want what we have to vanish or even falter. I want this to last, and right now, it works, so, why risk it?"

I understood what she meant even if technically, it didn't really make sense, but I was pretty sure she knew that. I sat quickly in the sand, my knees up and holding myself with my elbows slightly behind myself, half laying down. She smiled and sat next to me in the same position, except she spread her legs out and crossed her ankles together. She was wearing soft black pants and her ridiculously dirty rainbow converse and I liked it without even knowing why.

"Okay, would you rather be always 10 minutes late or 20 minutes early?"

I raised my eyebrows and smiled slightly when I recognized the game. We used to always play that game when we were younger but as the years went by, the questions changed, and the answers too.

"20 minutes early, of course!" I frowned with a chuckle. "That was easy. Okay my turn. Would you rather have whatever you are thinking to appear above your head for everyone to see orrrrrr have absolutely everything you do live streamed for anyone to see?"

"That's an absolute shitty question." she complained. "Anything I think about appear above my head. That would imply a lot of people seeing your cock, though."

I let out a loud laughter and turned to her. "Are you thinking about my cock right now?"

"Of course!" she replied quickly. "Can't you see it above my head?"

We laughed together and she licked her lips.

"Mm, would you rather have edible spaghetti hair that regrows every night orrrr, sweat maple syrup."

I grimaced and shook my head. "This is horrible. Sweat maple syrup I guess."

"I guess I'd lick your armpits all the time, then." she shrugged, bringing a smirk to my lips.

"Oh I know you'd do it even now." I pointed out. I could swear I saw her cheeks turn a soft shade or red and chuckled. "You love my armpits. One time you literally put your face there and kissed it."

"That was an accident." she blatantly lied. " I was trying to kiss your... your shoulder."

"Liar. I was smelly too, I was just back from the gym." I added, knowing I was embarrassing her even more.

"Okay, Niall, your turn now!"

I laughed as I stared at her and finally pressed my lips together, trying to find a good question.

"Would you rather... have 10 orgasms every time you have sex but they're not that good, or just one every week but a fucking strong one."

"That's a horrible question and I'm sorry but I'm gonna go for the fucking strong one." she shrugged with a grimace. "I would be so annoying all week though, you wouldn't be able to live with me. I'd hump you all the time."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "How often do you masturbate?"

Her eyes roamed on my face and she pressed her lips together, trying not to smile too much.

"Normally maybe, twice a day?" she just replied with a shrug. "These days, though, I don't. You're the only one who makes me cum."

I turned to her and sent her a big happy smile that she sent back.

"I would kiss you right now." I pointed out, making her smile too.

"I would kiss you back."

We stared at each other for a while and she finally looked away, turning her head to the water for a few minutes as the sun was disappearing into the horizon. I knew we should get up and leave to find a place to sleep but I didn't want to.

"Would you rather marry a 10 with a boring personality, or a 6 with an amazing personality." she let out, turning her head to send me a smile again. "Choose wisely."

"You're not asking this about yourself, right? Because you're not a 6."

"You're right, i'm a 4, at best. No wait, Heidi said a 3, right?"

"You're still thinking about that?" I asked in a lower and soft tone before she shrugged and turned again to the water. "You really shouldn't. She was just jealous."

"Heidi isn't jealous of anyone. What she says, she means." Liv pointed out. "You know, just because I know you're out of my league doesn't mean I'm not confident, or that I hate myself. I know society's beauty standards and I don't fit in. I never will. You do though." she pointed out, turning to me. "You've always been the pretty boy, the one everyone liked and wanted to be around. I was never jealous I was fucking mesmerized. Because you were my best friend and no one else's. You had picked me."

"I'm still picking you. I'm choosing you every single day, Olivia." I pointed out, sitting up and crossing my legs, looking down at my hands. "And you have no idea how many girls I flirted with that turned me down." I chuckled. "Before I was famous and even now. You could be surprised."

"That's because you seem to always fall for stupid fucking bitches. You always choose them for what they physically look like. You never try to see deeper because for you, everyone is good. But it's not true. Not everyone is good, Niall. Some people will just use you and throw you away when they're done. Some people will pick you because you're rich and famous, and some other won't pick you because you're not glamorous enough. Why do you think Heidi wanted to date you so bad but was totally okay to let you sleep with one of her best friends?"

I looked up and frowned. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"Gia Christenson? That's literally the only friend Heidi has left, yet she sent her to flirt with you at that bar when we were dating? She gave her your number so she could send you nudes when we were camping? And you literally ended up sleeping with her a few weeks before you started dating Heidi?"

My lips parted slightly but I shook my head. No, Heidi hadn't done all that just so I would break up with Olivia, that was impossible. I didn't want to believe that someone could ever do that. To anyone. I was not such a bad judge of character.

"No I mean, it's a coincidence."

"It's not. And I'm not blaming her for our break up. She didn't force you do to anything, she didn't point a gun to your head either. But when you started dating her I couldn't help but think that she had gotten exactly what she wanted and I had lost."

"And now?"

"Now?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as she turned to look in my eyes with a sad smile. "Now I'm just not playing anymore."

We kept quiet again, just listening to the waves and feeling the slightly cooler breeze hit our cheeks. It felt amazing to be here, alone, with her, but her words kept resonating in my head. Was I that oblivious?

"I don't want to marry a 6 or a 10, no matter what their personalities are." I finally just replied with a shrug. "I want to marry you. No number. Just you."

The way she smiled at me and tilted her head, I knew she liked my answer, but I kept quiet and after a while, she got up and I followed her back to the car. The sun was gone and the sky was dark but I drove to the first motel I saw and grabbed our bags before putting my sunglasses back on.

"I'll give my name." she just said as we reached the counter.

I smiled a bit and nodded before she asked for a room, gave her name and paid for it. I stayed behind her slightly and finally followed her to our room as she opened it and let me in. I dropped everything near the bed and when I turned around she was locking the door behind us.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked, putting my hands on my waist.

"Nothing, I got my check." she giggled, making me raise my eyebrows. "The number on it was astronomical, I almost came just looking at my bank account."

"Okay but this is literally a suite." I pointed out, making her roll her eyes.

"A suite in a motel I mean who cares?" she rolled her eyes, sitting on the bed.

I walked to her and bent down to kiss her lips as her hands found my cheeks. I had wanted to kiss her for hours and feeling her lips on mine after that long felt incredible.

"You want to add more fluids to these dirty bed sheets?" she asked with a smirk, making me grimace before she started laughing hard. "I'm just kidding! I'm sure these are extremely clean."

"Yea not so sure anymore."

She got up and tilted her chin up to look at me. Instinctively, my arms wrapped around her waist and I pulled her closer to kiss her gently.

"Maybe we could sleep on the floor?" I proposed in a low tone, half-joking.

"The floor is probably even worse." she mentioned just as low before chuckling. "Come on, I'll fill the bath for us. I saw it on the brochure and it looks incredible."

"For a motel room suite, maybe." I complained as she moved away.

I heard her laugh again and opened one of my bags to get some comfortable clothes for both of us, leaving the sweatpants and shirts on top of my luggage. I finally grabbed my phone and looked at all the notifications popping up with a grimace. I deleted all of them and went to check my contacts. I clicked on Heidi's name and picked the 'delete' option before doing the same with Gia and a few other girls. I was not really sure who they were, probably because they were insignificant to me, and threw my phone on the bed just as she was calling me. When I stepped foot in the bathroom, the bath was filled and the lights were dimmed, which surprised me a bit, considering what kind of motel we were in.

I looked at her sitting in the bath, definitely naked but all I could see was her breasts out of the water and slightly covered with foam. I could still see her nipples and I groaned.

"Can't believe you didn't wait for me to get undressed."

She shrugged and smiled. "Your turn. Take your clothes off."

Quickly, I took my shirt off and laughed when I noticed the way she was looking at me. She didn't say a word and I took my pants, boxers and socks off before joining her. The bath was large enough and I sat in front of her, grabbing one of her feet and massaging it gently, my thumbs pressing against her sole.

"Mm, don't stop." she whispered making me laugh as she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the side of the bath. "I didn't expect that but this is amazing. Oh, and there's a beer behind you. Thought you'd enjoy."

I grabbed the bottle with one hand and she immediately started shaking her foot to get my attention back.

"You’re so needy."

"Shut up and keep going." she just replied, making me roll my eyes, a small smile still on my lips.

We remained in silence for a while, just enjoying the warm water and the presence of each other, but after a while, my mind went from blank to filled with questions and I breathed in.

"What are we, Olivia?"

She moved her head up and her eyes opened, meeting mine. She seemed a bit taken aback by my question but she shook her head a bit before tilting it.

"We're... two best friends who... love each other, and fuck more than occasionally." she proposed slowly, raising her shoulders up. "I guess."

"What if I want you to be my girlfriend, Olivia? What do I have to do for that?"

She breathed in and out slowly, still looking at me, and took her foot back. I thought she was mad but she moved in the water and got closer, placing her knees on each sides of me and sitting on my thighs. She looked down at my chest, bringing warm water on my shoulders and sighing before looking back up in my eyes.

"I love you, Niall. I'm in love with you. I want to date or fuck no one but you." she confessed in a very low tone. "But I'm not ready. And I don't know when I'll be. Or if I'll ever be."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and frowned a bit. "So we may never get back together?"

Her face changed and she licked her lips. "Shit happens, so we never know? I want to, and I'm trying. But I can't promise anything. It's too stressful for me. Can we just.. live today? You're going on tour, I'm about to film again and... we'll both be extra busy. We can have that discussion again after your tour?"

"My tour literally ends in september, Liv." I pointed out. "That's in over 7 months. What will happen if we don't see each other for weeks?"

Her eyes roamed on my face and she licked her lips again, as if she was trying to find the courage to talk again. "I'll do everything I can to come see you every time I have a few days off. You can come back here whenever you have a break, too. We can talk every day, text each other, facetime each other. It's not our first time apart, and... I know it'll probably be the hardest but if we want to make this work, we will, right?"

I stared at her, unsure if it was really possible but I swallowed. I wanted it so bad, whether we were official or not, and I was going to do everything I could to make this, whatever it was, work.

"I'm not gonna date, fuck or even see anyone else." she added. "Just you. I sort of expect the same from you although I can't force you but... if you decide you don't want to be exclusive I want to know who you... who else you're gonna have sex with, please? I'm honestly just scared of what an official relationship will do to us. The girlfriend and boyfriend title is just.. too big for me. For now." she paused. "Okay?"

"Okay." I whispered, nodding but feeling like shit.

She slipped her fingers in my hair and pressed her lips gently against mine.

"I love you." she murmured before kissing my cheekbone. "I love you." she repeated, kissing my jaw. "So fucking much." Her lips brushed against my neck. "More than anything." She went back to my lips. "I'm in love with you." I closed my eyes as she peppered kisses slowly and gently on my face and neck until my shoulders fell and I relaxed.

I felt her bring water over my shoulders again and she let her hands run on my chest, moving up on her knees. I kept my eyes closed until I heard a whimper escaping her lips and when I opened my eyes again, she was biting her bottom lip. I wanted to tell her that the song I had written was about marriage and that all I could think about since we went to that stupid wedding was how bad I wanted her to be my wife. It was ridiculous, knowing that I was not 100% in the relationship when we dated and that I was now in this 150% and we weren't even dating. I couldn't tell her that, though. Not after she had just told me she didn't want pressure and stress. Not after she had told me that she needed time and that she was not ready. But the words got stuck in my throat and I swallowed them hard.

"You okay?"

"Mmhm." I just replied, bringing one of my hands between her legs as I stared in her eyes.

She stiffened and finally bit her bottom lip as I slipped two fingers inside her, moving them in a fair rhythm and make her hips jerk slightly. I knew we were having a serious conversation but I was on the verge of spilling all my thoughts and feelings to her and I had no idea how to stop myself from doing that except by making her cum. I brought my thumb to her clit and stared at her seriously as her lips parted.

"Niall, I think we should wait until we get out of t-the bath." she let out in a mix of whimper and whisper. "I bought something special, just for you."

"Tomorrow. Today I'm just gonna watch you fuck yourself on my fingers." I argued as I kept brushing her clit with my thumb. Then I'm gonna finish my beer, I'll kiss you, wrap a towel around you and bring you in bed, and we'll talk in the dark the way we used to always do."

She reached for my wrist and stopped me for a few seconds. "Are you gonna sing something to me?"

I breathed in and nodded. "Any song you want. As many times as you want."

It took her a few seconds to nod and I reached for her hand, moving it away from my wrist as I started rubbing her clit again. "Come on, pet, do it now."

She started moving slowly up and down on my fingers and after a few minutes, I could feel her throb around me. The sight was amazing but I couldn't help myself and wrapped my free arm around her to bring her breasts close to my face. I ran my tongue on one of her nipples before sucking on it as she let out a louder moan. She started shaking and I felt her pussy clench around my fingers. I looked down at my fingers disappearing inside her and groaned low.

"Fuck I love your pretty little fanny. So fucking wet all the fucking time."

She started shaking and watching her body quiver from an orgasm was the most incredibly hot thing I have ever seen in my life. She came down from her high and I took my fingers out before she sat back on me and her mouth found mine again.

"You didn't tell me." she whispered, kissing me hard again. "Are you gonna see other girls while we're away? You're going to meet a few on tour..."

I grabbed her waist and pulled her away to look into her eyes and I could read in hers that she felt bad for asking me, almost scared of my answer. I wished she knew how I felt. I wished she knew I wouldn't do anything that could risk hurting her again, and I knew that just telling her wouldn't mean she'd believe me.

"You're all I think about. You're all I care about. Nothing feels good without you. I told you. That year without you was the most miserable of my entire life, Olivia. I have no desire to be with anyone else. So no, I'm not gonna see anyone. I'm not gonna kiss anyone. I'm not gonna fuck anyone. I'm not even going to flirt with anyone because I just don't give a fuck about anyone else."

"This is gonna work." she whispered, trying to convince both of us. "This distance thing I mean. We'll do it right."

"We will." I confirmed with a smile. "And every single night, I'm gonna sing about you."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #niall horan story #my fanfics #yam

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lokbobpop · 3 years

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Child children childhood

Biologically, a child (plural children) is a human being between the stages of birth and puberty, or between the developmental period of infancy and puberty. The legal definition of child generally refers to a minor, otherwise known as a person younger than the age of majority.

From Middle English child, from Old English ċild (“fetus; female baby; child”), from Proto-Germanic *kelþaz (“womb; fetus”), from Proto-Indo-European *ǵelt- (“womb”).

Child c hild chi ld c hill d

Writing the word child

You know id rather the use the word child children than i would kid even though i do right out kid probably because i cant be bothered to think about how to write out children out thinking ill get it wrong when speaking i usually use kid also but would like to use child children but see i think i might be judged as old fashioned or sill for going so. So thing brings to mind how i let myself be manipulated by what others think what i say which i most certainly do most of the time as not to get judged but as something as most simple as this do i really need to know i dont hey i just need to be authentic me.

Children writing the thoughts of children young innocent thoughts of how it was in the sixths seventies and being a child

Childhood i thing my childhood was ok my dad wasn’t drinking to get angry as much then thanks fully that started a few years later

Reading the word child or children childhood

Yes much better im not a baby goat lol

Or am i really being old fashioned nothing wrong with the word kids i could use both when ever i wanted as lone as it wasn’t within energy like would i say it in from of some people and not others as then I would be manipulated within it interesting thought

Children’s books are lovely great pictures i looked to look at the pictures hey and nowadays the the picture are so amazing i think i would of loved to see the pictures if i was a child now.

My childhood i think of school play outside playing in the fields being disappointed in myself at school why could i read why was i behind the others I couldn’t understand ho wit was so easy for others and not myself it felt unfair nice teachers horrible teachers

Saying out loud child children childhood

Your just a child what do you know thoughts of being called a child as in not being very mature and being immature comes up or saying something to some one your a child grow up judgement of an event.

Children playing in the play ground fear came up of a girl that was horrible mean i think she’s dead now well i hope so not a pleasant person any way she picked on my friend and I didn’t stand up for her i even moved away and left her in the situation she was scared and so was i but i left her and i felt guilt, also to my friend i was mean i made her put some crap on a stick and took it outside the toilet I know until this day she felt ashamed of this but so do i we cant now be close she has this underlying anger i hope she can let go one day as not to bother her adult life anymore with thoughts of being upset towards me. When we went to big school i missed her friendship as i had no one int he class i had.

My childhood i think was pretty good as i said dad wasn’t purposely getting drunk and angry i mean it did happen but not everyday under 10 years of age

I child called Jeremy mills hitting me with a book on the head I remember it made me cry it hurt a lot he was an angry kid but i was surprised when the girl Michelle dean stood up for me as i thought she didn’t actually like me at that moment because i used to copy everyone when we did class work and i think it annoyed them me coping all the time they would hide there work so i felt left out not liked i feel now i sat nest to dawn i a class before that i see it annoyed them to share what they did but with Angela she didn’t mind shed copy my math not sure why as when we got higher her math was better than mine.

Watching the women’s open tennis match at Wimbledon maybe 76 when Virginia wade won the hole class got to watch it with miss Queensborough

Ok so babysitting and making the little girl jump off the stool knickers less wasn’t a good idea got me pushed down the bank on the way home from school a bit of a fuck up there but i think it had to do with being flashed at an early age i was like whats these feeling are about its just a shame it came out like this but im sorry it obviously upset a family what i did do i how this also makes my childhood not so great with doing these things what was i thinking i affected what people thought of me and then that made me feel bad about myself and with not being very good at school. How do you feel right now ? Im in regret of what ive done im sorry for what i done but also it wasn’t a bad thing what i done just wrong and definitely not something i should sentence myself to feeling bad for the rest of my life over which i have seem to have done as it has made me feel dirty about myself we are so affected by our childhood we need to be safe feel safe we need to be better parents. How can i help myself get over my childhood your ok it’s alright it wasn’t that bad and it turned out alright your ok you can let it go you dont need it anymore it doesnt have to define you anymore you dont have to feel yucky dirty not good enough its ok your good now let it go its gone breathe.

Does this definition support me no lots of polarity here of my childhood being good scary and being mean to my friend and knowing how are childhood affects us my biggest problem was not being like others at school and being as in reading and writing and really upset at myself and not understanding why I couldn’t do it.

Child ch i held

Children child run

Childhood child hood

Child a young person learning life

Children young persons learning life

Childhood when you try to make sense of the word and your place in it anything can happen but you get over it you move on past and you dont take whats not needed with you you let stuff go and do whats best fro you and others at all times by apply sf breathe self love but see realizing and understanding that things happen which must be forgiven to lead a healthy adult life

How will you live this word ?

I will live this words to support me in letting go of my own dislikes of my own childhood my regrets with self respect self love to move past so the me now can move on be whole

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mollydollyjournals · 3 years

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Its Thursday 1st July and I hit post limit so all I can do is update this post

I just want to drink til i pass out

9:46pm - oh when did i post this? Doesnt matter i guess. It really annoys me that the daily post limit applies to all blogs you have. I have 2 and i follow a lot of NSF- stuff so i have so much in my queue for my other blog, and i tend to post more immediately for that so i dont end up with a massive backlog, but thaats when i hit the limit. Whatever it is. I basically just wish i could set the queue to post more often when i have more there. Just post every 15mins or whatever and it'd go through quicker without me having to do it myself

Idk it doesnt matter i guess. Im still just venting all my bullshit here that i cant put anywhere else. But now is when i need it. I want interaction and company but i dont want to bother anyone and I dont know what to do with it. I dont have it in me to try to be a person right now. Tumblr is for messy. At least thats how i do.

But once you hit post limit it apparently doesnt even let you delete stuff to post anything else. I havent been here in years really so i totally forgot. Plus it could have been different anyway. Idk. Guess i will just drink until i disintegrate or something

10:20pm - it just makes me feel worse. I know theres a reason for post limit and its not the end of the world. Just it doesnt reset til 5am and I'll be asleep by then which means for the rest of today i cant actually say anything, and that kinda fucks with my derealisation/depersonalisation/whatever it is. I need acknowledgement to feel real. I need people to remind me that i exist. Even just a little. Its stupid and insecure but i do. Everything is worse since covid and being stuck in a house with someone who barely acknowledges my existence. I feel like a ghost. I feel netter at least a little temporarily if someone just sees and acknowledges me. And currently i can't do anything about that. Nobody is going to go to my page(s) and see whats up, its not that kind of thing. Even if it was they still wouldnt. I put on my other social media fucking ages ago that i was really struggling, then i disappeared, and it took days for it to get noticed at all. Then only 3 people acknowledged it. People have their own lives and there are algorithms etc so i cant be angry at them, but the end result is i still feel really alone.

I often feel like i want to just talk to people. Only a select few. Its not that i necessarily need to talk about "deep" stuff, but i need to know that i could if i needed to. Or if we just both happened to be in that mood at the same time. Like how i dont wanna talk about something totally innocent and generic with someone who turns out to be racist or whatever.

I dont know. Maybe i do need to talk some shit through right now. Doesnt matter either way. Ill most likely just be back to this post later to say more about how i dont really feel like being alive.

10:39pm - I hate that im like this. I dont know if its reasonable or not. I used to be someone who wantes so much space. I still dont feel like i want to always be around people. I must have some individuality somewhere. But i cant find it. Since the pandemic hit especially, it just highlighted everything ive been missing and trying to supplement. I need things to change. But i dont have a hope of doing so while i feel like this. Im so lost. Ive spent my life trying to be confident in myself and ive run my reserves dry. I so rarely get any help topping up. I fucking hate the whole Strong Black Woman trope. Im tired. Ive carried my family since I was 13 and romantic partners have expected me to carry them too. I need to be held and comforted. I need support. If nothing else i need to just be acknowledged. I dont feel like a person. Im invisible and inaudible so much of the time and apparently that only changes when someone wants to see or hear me. When do i get to be a person in my own right? When does someone actually see or hear me for who i am and care about my existence regardless of what it does for them

10:54pm - its the worst of my mental health, tbh, that i dont feel like its worth trying anything if its not going to be acknowledged and welcomed by anyone else. Existing included. I feel my worst and most suicidal when i cant have anyone remember that i exist. Because maybe i dont. Maybe people dont miss me or think of me unless theyre reminded for some specific reason. And i say these things because i want to be proved wrong but why would anyone.

I want to cut. I hate this stupid post limit. I could have at least distracted myself by reblogging stuff for a bit. Im still spiralling. I need a distraction and there isnt one and there wont be one and if i even get through tonight itll just be another reminder that in the end im alone

11:24pm - something feels particularly cruel about not being able to post here, even if i delete stuff. Its just an app sure but its the closest thing i have to therapy. I came back here specifically because i was struggling posting on my regular social media and having people not pay any attention. I thought id make a fresh anonymous account where i could vent and my shitty brain couldnt take it personally if nobody acknowledged it. Now i just have all that shit going round my head and nowhere to put it. Im right back where i started. Nobody will read this. If they do they wont care. If by some chance they did they'll be put off by me being so negative.

"One day someone will hug you so tight all tour broken pieces will fit back together" yeah sure. Whatever.

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msragdoll · 3 years

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Personal stuff (TW death)

So today I went to a get together for my cousin Nick who was killed in May. I say get together because it wasn't really a funeral or service. More of a 'lets gather at Nick's favorite restaurant and be together for his memory."

And, I've got so many emotions about everything. And so I'm just gonna type it all out here and throw it into the wind so I feel heard...

I'm so mad at myself right now. I feel guilty. The last time I talked to my cousin was in 2019. I walked into the pawn shop that he (basically) owned and asked for advice on how to track down some things that were stolen from @r-ochoa . He told me he'd keep an eye out at his shop and the other one nearby and told me to check out sites like 'Let Go' but in different zip codes and counties nearby. And that was the last time I saw him.

Previous to that, maybe by a year? I saw him at his rehearsal dinner for his wedding. I hadn't even known it was happening until my mom called me and told me I should come and that an old family friend was there that I hadn't seen since I was 11 was there too. I rushed over, moreso happy to see the old friend. While I spent most of my time talking with that friend Nick made a point to hang out with us and talk too. The whole evening was about him and his soon to be bride but he made a point to join in with our catch up, spend time with my daughter and share in our time.

I didn't go to his wedding the next day...I hadn't gotten an invitation (I found out alot of people didn't, it wasn't that formal) and I'm so mad that I didn't ask him that night if I could come...

I'm mad that I never took a moment to tell him that he was the one out of two cousins I had that didn't treat me like garbage. The second cousin got frustated alot with me as a kid though, where Nick was always patient. Growing up I had 5 cousins. 4 boys; the only girl being the oldest so we never really hung out unless she was babysitting, but that rarely happened. I was the youngest. One of the boys (that 2nd cousin) was from a different part of the family so hanging out with him was usually just the two of us.

That left Nick and the two other cousins and those 3 plus me often hung out together. The other 2 cousins teamed up alot and would pick on me. They'd take my favorite stuffed animal that I insisted on treating gently and kindly and throw him up and down the stairs and push me away when Id try to get him back. Or they'd play hide and seek and ditch me. Sometimes they'd put me in dangerous situations that as a 7 year old I didn't realize how dangerous they were. They'd even steal things from me or break my things. And I wanna say I have no hatred towards my cousins for these things, as an adult I understand that kids do fucked up things, especially when they don't know how to process what theyre feeling.

But Nick. Nick never did any of those things. In fact if he was there, he'd intervene. He got my stuffed animal back for me. He'd come find me if he realized I had been ditched or put somewhere dangerous. He never took things from me, and would actually give me random things he thought I'd like from his own stuff.

Maybe it was because both of us had influences in our lives that encouraged kindness, where as the other 2 cousins didn't. Whatever it was, Nick was always there. I remember going to his grandma's house, with his sister (his sister had a different dad so I didn't see her as often as I saw Nick) and the three of us would always have a blast.

In fact, it was Nick who helped me get over my fear of motorcycles. Nick's dad, my uncle, had taken us out on bikes and I was on the back of my uncle's ATV. My leg kept getting sucked into the wheel and it hurt so bad. I kept crying and asking my uncle if we could go home, that I was hurt. But we didn't go home until later. I don't know if Nick had seen what was happening. Later on, at Nick's grandma's house (she had a HUGE property that had a track on the grounds) he asked if his sister and I would like to ride on the back of his quad and take a few laps and jumps. His sister was all for it but I was so scared. I didn't want my leg to get hurt again. I didn't want to fall off the back going off jumps either.

But he told me not to worry, he would take it slow and only go as fast as I told him. So I got on. When we got to the first jump on his track he stopped and asked if I wanted to stay on the ground, go in the air or go really high. I told him just to start out on the ground...and he listened when I asked him to take it slow. Not to go too high in the air. And by the end of it all he had built up so much confidence in me thay I had asked him to take those jumps higher and higher. I wasn't afraid anymore because he didn't throw me into a situation I had no control over....in fact... thinking about it... I think this was the first time in my life where I was allowed control over a situation....that I wasn't just plopped into something because the grown ups wanted to do it and I had to just accept it and deal with no say.

(TW: Menstruation) Nick was also there when I got my first period. He was probably a teenager by then but he didn't get weirded or grossed out. We were all having a campout sleepover at his grandma's house before his sister was moving away and I can remember the girls she had invited being kind of weirded out and me trying to hide it. I remember just kind of sitting away from them feeling gross and Nick being like "yeah, my mom told me what's going on. Mind if I sit with you and just hang out?" And so we did.

There's so many other memories I have him him, all of them good. I can't remember a single time where he was mean to me or frustrated with me. He never told me to leave him alone or to go away. If I was afraid or worried about something he never made fun of me or brushed it off. He took the time to show me how it'd be okay. I remember my mom freaking out that I was going to have this specific teacher she had growing up who was a total hard ass and Nick reassuring me that Mr. Roach was one of the kindest, coolest teachers at our school and was not the same man he was however many years ago. And Nick was right, Mr. Roach was the best teacher I ever had.

And I never told him how much it all meant to me. How his kindness always shown so bright to me, especially after losing my dad. I feel like all the fucked up cousin shit happened as soon as my dad died, especially cause he wasn't there to intervene anymore. (My dad didn't really like that side of the family so when they were around he was pretty vigilant about how they behaved) but Nick was always kind and friendly. I never felt like a burden, or 'just a girl' or annoying or all that general 'youngest one nobody likes' vibes.

And I never told him that it meant so much to me. And now I can't. And I hurt because I can't tell him and I also hurt because I feel like I shouldnt feel as sad as I do because as we grew up and my mom married and moved us away and we grew apart. I saw him less and less. The tight bond we had growing up faded as we aged and wasn't maintained. Sure everytime we saw each other we always fell back into that bond, but those times became so few and far between...and...how can I be so sad when I hadn't seen him for over 2 years? I didn't even know his wife outside of her name.

And I know that feeling that 'undeserving of feeling sad' is super irrational. But I just...I can't seem to turn it off. And it couples with the guilt and anger of never telling him how he was such a beacon of kindness growing up and how as an adult I realize how important that was for me as a child to have.

I have so many emotions about him dying right now and I've kept it all mostly to myself. But it's mostly regret and frustration at myself...I'm hurting for sure right now...

#personal #tw: death #tw: menstruation

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