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taeminyourmind · 4 years

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The 12-Year Promise x Taemin (M)

Genre: Mature - Smut (Soft)

Summary: Forced to move away, you and your best friend Taemin make a promise to meet again on your 25th birthday.

Pairing: Taemin x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k+

October 2006

A crisp autumn breeze commands the fallen leaves to dance along the uneven gravel road of your neighborhood. The street, once filled with children playing, is now silent as neighbors gather in front of your house to bid your family farewell.

You and Taemin hide behind a thick row of bushes behind your house, sitting side-by-side with faces of confusion and sadness. Every day, you wake up and pray that it was all a dream, but the brown boxes sitting on your desk with your name scribbled on the side in black sharpie mock you every morning. You could never forget the moment your mother brought the news down on you in a way only she could.

Rain hits against the window while you and your parents eat dinner in silence. The sound of utensils scraping against the ceramic plates makes you cringe, causing you to squirm in your seat.

“___,” your mother monotonously says, “We’re moving at the end of the month.”

Your eyes snap towards your mother who doesn’t bother making eye contact with neither you nor your father. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You look to your father, hoping he can read your mind, but all he offers is a gentle hand on the shoulder and a soft smile.

“Why?” You finally manage to say, though it comes out as a squeak. Your eyes leave your father and lands on your mother who wipes her mouth with the linen napkin, leaving her red lipstick stain on it. “Why?”

“How many times must I remind you?” Your mother firmly asks, tossing the napkin on her empty plate. “I am the parent, and you are the child. And if I say we are doing something, you say ‘Okay mother’ not question me. Understood?”

Your stomach does backflips as your mother’s eyebrow raises and lips pursed together. There is no need in fighting her, in arguing, because your words will fall on deaf ears. Instead, you shove your father’s hand off your shoulder and let your legs take you as far away from the house as possible.

Your legs burn at your speed and your lungs feel like they’re about to explode. Your vision becomes blurred with burning tears before they slide down your cheeks. Though it’s hard to see, you follow your heart and find yourself outside the house of your best friend, Taemin. Many believe you became instant friends because you shared the same birthday and others believe it was the working of your stars and paths crossing at an early age. A friend since you were in diapers, a friend who never leaves your side, and a friend that you promised to marry if you were both still single at 25. With him, you were never alone and invisible; with Taemin, you were free to be who you were and felt loved.

You throw pebbles against his window until you see his shadow move towards the window. Huge headphones are pressed against his ears when he opens his curtains and window. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it when he sees the look of defeat and distress painted on your face. He simply nods his head and you take off to Dollie’s, a place the two of you frequent, a place where you settle all your problems and plan your next adventure. Except for this time, you must tell your best friend that you’re moving far away, for good.

“I don’t want you to go,” Taemin pouts, his hand unconsciously pulling at the grass beside him.

“I don’t want to go either,” you whisper while blinking to hold back your tears. “I want to stay here with you.”

Silence falls over the two of you as faint farewells are being said in the distance.

“Let’s promise to always be friends!” He exclaims with a beaming smile. “When we’re older, let’s meet again!”

A wide smile spreads across your face at his exclamation. If you were darkness, Taemin was light, always lifting spirits and showing optimism wherever he goes. Your smile becomes contagious as Taemin smiles back at you before facing ahead. His eyebrows furrow the longer he stares in the distance as if he’s focusing on something or someone. Following his trance, you take in the beauty of autumn’s hues of red, orange, brown, and yellow, a sight you wouldn’t see anytime soon.

“25!” Taemin says, making you look towards him in confusion. He brings a hand out of his pocket and holds up a quarter that glistens in the sunlight. “We’ll meet again when we’re 25 at Dollie’s!”

“Aren’t we supposed to be married by then?” You ask and snatch the quarter from his fingers. “What if my husband doesn’t want me meeting you?”

He cocks his head to the side with a mischievous smile. “But I will be your husband.”

A moment goes by before the two of you burst into laughter. You grab your stomach from how much you were laughing and get into a playful wrestling match until the harsh sound of your name makes the both of you stop. Your mother’s voice makes you shiver. Taemin looks at you with glossy eyes, mouthing ‘don’t go’ as you begin to stand.

“I...have to go,” you barely manage to croak while stuffing the quarter in your pocket.

Putting your back to him, Taemin wraps his arms around you, squeezing you while his fingers latch onto the fabric of your jacket. You manage to free yourself enough to face him and bring him into an embrace. Tears freely fall down your cheeks as you choke on your sobs. You squeeze your eyes close and try to remember this moment; the light floral scent of his clothes, the warmth of his embrace, his comforting voice, his soft facial expressions, and the taste of the shortbread cookie he gave you earlier.

“___!” Your mother shouts again.

“Noon,” Taemin quickly says when he feels you begin to pull away, leaving the coldness to replace your warmth. “We’ll meet at noon at Dollie’s when we turn 25! Promise me!”

“I promise,” you say, wiping the tears from your face. “I promise.” Turning, you sprint away from Taemin, leaving him to sink to the ground and cry into his knees. The only thing keeping his head up is your promise, a promise he will replay in his mind as the days go on.

July 18, 2018 - 11:30 a.m.

Aromas of freshly ground coffee, baked goods, and flowers fill Dollie’s while light upbeat instrumental music plays overhead. Taemin taps along to the beat while nervously looking towards the door each time the door opens. Each chime makes him sit straighter and when he realizes none of the people that walked through the door were you, he slumps a little and glances at his watch.

The steam from Taemin’s mug of coffee places soft kisses on his nose as he stares into its rich color.

“She’ll be here,” he whispers repeatedly to himself. “She promised.”

July 18, 2018 - 12:15 p.m.

Taemin watches the seconds pass on his watch as noon passes. Around him, people are busy with pleasant conversations leaving Taemin to daydream about what it would be like to have you in front of him so he could hear your voice.

The last glimmer of hope he has in his heart slowly loses its flame as he pushes his empty mug away from him. Part of him feels foolish for thinking you would remember a promise made 12 years ago and another part of him wonders if someone is keeping you from him. He hides his face in his palms and squeezes his eyes shut, his shoulders falling in defeat.

“Hi Ms. Ha, is Taemin still here?” A voice desperately asks between breaths.

The sound of his name makes Taemin pop his head up and look towards the front counter. Ms. Ha’s face lights up as she points in his direction. When your glance follows her direction, Taemin feels his breath hitch in his throat. Neither of you could contain the wide smiles spreading on your faces as you rush to his table.

When you’re a few feet away, Taemin jumps from his seat and pulls you into a warm embrace; his palms gently pressing in the middle of your back until his quick heartbeat can be felt against your chest. A small chuckle hums against your lips as you hold him close, nestling your face in the crook of his neck and feeling tears well in your eyes at the nostalgic scent of floral lingering on his clothes.

An unknown amount of time passes before Taemin invites you to sit with him. There was so much you wanted to say to one another, so many stories to tell, and so many I miss yous to you wanted to say, but those words get lodged in your throats. Instead, you exchange a warm smile and nervous chuckles while you examine one another, your eyes finding what’s changed about each other.

Taemin finds himself lovingly staring into your eyes, admiring the girl he’s missed for the past 12 years. Aside from your appearance, nothing has changed about you; your eyes and smile are still warm and your nose scrunches and eyes squint when you’re concentrated on something or someone.

“And a birthday candle for my twins,” Ms. ha sings before placing a coffeecake with powdered sugar in the middle of the table.

“You shouldn’t have,” you gasp while eyeing the delectable cake with wide eyes.

“Eat and enjoy you two,” she says while swatting in your direction. Turning away, she gives Taemin a playful wink before hurrying to the front of the house.

“Happy birthday, ___,” Taemin smiles while handing you a fork.

“Happy birthday, Tae,” You smile before devouring your half of the cake.

The moist cake melts in your mouth, causing you to sink in your seat in delight. As fast as the cake appeared, the cake was gone as you and Taemin lean back in your seats with a full stomach.

“I missed you, Tae,” you softly say while reaching across the table to place your hand on his. “How have you been?”

Your warm hands cause Taemin to shiver slightly while he gets lost in your eyes once more. Your question makes him stop for a moment to think; how has he been? It’s been so long since he’s taken care of himself and even longer since someone asked how he was.

You can see the internal struggle in his eyes. His eyes fall away from you and to the empty plate, his eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. Every now and then, he opens his mouth to speak but hesitates and closes it again.

“Talk to me, Taemin,” you whisper while leaning forward, your hand shaking against his to grab his attention. “You’re in front of me, but your eyes are distant.”

“I’ve just been stressed lately,” he begins, squirming in his seat. “I’m studying for my master and I’m worried about failing.”

Concern falls on you while you watch your friend express his troubles. His words pour from his mouth and tears of frustration well in his eyes, though they don’t fall.

“You’ll make it,” you say reassuringly. “I know you’ll make it.” You pause for a moment and take in his tense posture. Deep in thought, you finally look back towards the boy and smile. “You’re coming over for dinner tonight. I’m going to cook something special.”

Taemin smiles and shakes his head. “Don’t you live a few hours away?”

“Correction. I now live 30 minutes from here.”

You and Taemin exchange an excited smile before he places his free hand on top of yours and gives it a gentle squeeze. His soft eyes make you blush before nodding his head.

“Okay, let’s go.”

The day gradually transforms to night as the infinite stars in the sky twinkle against the black canvas. With your legs placed over his, you and Taemin make yourselves comfortable on your couch with a glass of wine.

“How was it, moving away?” Taemin hesitantly asks, causing your face to fall for a moment.

“Hard. My parents got divorced not long after the move and my mother decided it was best I stay with her. But you know how she is, overbearing, a workaholic, and insensitive. I couldn’t take it anymore! I ran away to my father’s, but she never came after me. From that moment, I swore to myself three things, I would never turn into her, marry someone like her, and never become a mother like her. Since then, I’ve just been trying to find myself and my purpose in life, you know?”

Taemin soothingly rubs your leg while giving you a gentle smile. “I know.”

As the moon rises higher in the sky, your conversations with Taemin become more personal the more you allow yourselves to be vulnerable. Between his and your worries and fears about the life ahead of you, it’s a miracle neither of you has developed gray hair.

Even in these moments, Taemin found himself falling for you, flaws and all. Everyone could see he had a crush on you when you were younger, and he’s held onto the thought of meeting you one day and how it would feel seeing you again after so long. It’s better than he imagined. While you poured your heart out, his eyes moved across your face, trying to burn your face in his mind. He wanted to remember you, the way you looked, and the way you make him feel.

“I’ve talked too much,” you apologetically say.

“I haven’t seen you in 12 years, I don’t mind.”

You hide your flustered smile by taking a sip from your glass. You find yourself looking over the rim and find yourself thinking of Taemin as more than a friend. What would your relationship look like if you stayed? Would you still be friends? Lovers? Married? Strangers? The past is over and only the present lingers while the future lies ahead. You have to get your mind off of Taemin.

“Look at the time,” you say, pointing to the clock that reads 1 a.m. “It’s too late for you to go back. You can sleep in my room -”

“Where are you going to sleep?” Taemin abruptly interrupts with slight disappointment in his voice.

You pat a spot on the couch. “On the couch.” Setting your glass down, you stand and help Taemin off the couch, leading him to your room. “I’ll put out extra blankets in case you get cold.”

Standing near your room’s doorway, Taemin watched you scurry about, pulling out numerous blankets and throwing the decorative pillows to the side. Though he sees your mouth move, he’s too focused on understanding his feelings for you to hear what you’re saying.

“Stay with me,” he blurts, causing you to stop in your tracks. “Just like the sleepovers we had when we were younger.”

Memories of blanket forts lined with pillows and flashlights flash before your eyes as you remember the two of you competing on who could tell the scariest story and talking about kid stuff like school, parents, and the latest episode of your favorite cartoons. With a blink, you’re transported back to your room with Taemin gazing at you with bright eyes. He opens his mouth to apologize but closes it when you nod.

“I’ll stay with you,” you sheepishly say with a soft smile. “Just like we used to.”

You and Taemin face each other under the warmth of your blanket, though it feels warmer because of how close your bodies were. The moonlight seeping through the gaps of your bedroom blinds, striping the room and giving little light. But even in the room’s dimness, Taemin’s eyes shine brightly as they gaze into yours.

There were things you wanted to say to each other, both friendly and amorous. Your complicated feelings create raging waves in your stomach, threatening to crash into you. But there were too many times in your life where you’ve held yourself back by listening to this uneasy feeling and not your own desires.

Being here with Taemin, his body so close to yours that his shallow breaths tickle your nose. Under his loving stare, you feel exposed while his eyes trace over your face. You inch yourself closer to his body and gently glide your thumbpad across his soft lips. His fingers gently wrap around your wrist, stilling it before kissing it. Your heart thumps harder under his touch. No matter how many times you try to deny yourself of feeling anything romantic towards him, they come back stronger.

“Marry me,” he whispers. His hand guides yours towards his chest, allowing you to feel his heartbeat.

The word ‘marry’ transports you back to the playground at school. Hidden behind a tree were you and Taemin, holding hands and promising to marry each other when you turned 25. And now, you’re lying beside your best friend after 12 years, feeling his heartbeat under his careful gaze, as he remembers one of his promises.

A smile slowly spreads across your face as you inch closer to his face until your forehead rests against his. “Okay.”

Leaning forward, Taemin’s lips press against yours, passionately moving across yours, inviting you to join in the dance. Your fingers latch to the front of his shirt while you deepen the kiss, your breath temporarily seizing when his tongue glides pass your lips. The taste of his cherry chapstick enters your mouth, teasing you to go deeper. He softly moans against your lips when your tongue dances around his while his fingers gently massage your lower back.

Gentle whispers of “I missed you” spill from your lips before Taemin slowly pulls away. His lips are slightly red and plump, slightly parted as he catches his breath. Over and over he says he really missed you and how much he loves you. His sweet words make your cheeks grow warm as you softly push his bangs out his face. The flame of his eyes flickers in affection as he hesitates to say the words he wants to say.

But you know what Taemin wants, and you want it as well. Leaning forward, you latch your lips to the side of his neck, placing tender wet kisses on the crook of his neck. His soft moans turn to groans when your hand slips down his sweatpants and begin to massage his member. He sharply gasps through clenched teeth when you firmly grip his member and pump him, ensuring every inch feels your touch.

“___,” Taemin breathlessly whines, his hips rocking in sync with your hand.

His eyes flutter shut and his lips slightly part when you teasingly make light circles on his tip. A mischievous smirk spreading on your face fades when Taemin’s hand slides down your pants. His fingers spread your lips while his middle finger glides from your entrance to your clit, spreading your wetness. Your movements pause at the feeling of his finger flicking your clit. You try to suppress your moans but fail when his deep voice whispers in your ear.

“You’re so wet.”

His middle and ring finger carefully push through your entrance, curling once they’re in. Your hand around his member grips tighter at the sensation, creating more friction as he thrust forward. It doesn’t take long until you feel a wetness coat your fingers. As if connected, you both removed your hand from each other’s bodies. Your wetness that coats Taemin’s fingers shines in the dim light before he pushes them in your mouth, his eyebrows furrowing while he moans at the feeling of your tongue sensually licking his fingers clean.

Slowly, Taemin removes yours and his pants, his eyes never leaving yours. Grabbing the back of your thigh, he lifts your leg over his waist while his other hand guides his erected maybe to your entrance. Your walls tighten at the feeling of his tip gliding back and forth between your lips. Slowly, he guides his member inside you, thrusting upward until he finds shelter in between your walls.

Taemin’s presence prompts you to let out a lengthy moan, closing your eyes to feel every inch of him. His hands anchor your hips in place as he begins to slowly thrust upwards, going deeper while he places lovebites on the top of your breasts. ‘Yes’ drips from your lips over and over as he thrusts one last time and grinds into you, ensuring every inch feels his length. Your walls tighten and toes curl while you hold him close to your chest, your moans turning into whines as you feel yourself edging closer to the edge. This powerful feeling makes you want to pull away, but the feeling of euphoria makes you stay, enduring the overwhelming pleasure.

Taemin knows you’re close, your walls squeezing around him, ready to milk his seed. He hisses when your nails break his skin, but he doesn’t mind. Pulling your tank top down, he admires your breasts and hardened nipples before latching his lips around them. His teeth softly graze your nipple before his tongue swirls around it, causing shivers to travel up your spine.

Cupping his face to bring it to yours, you place sloppy kisses against his lips before gaining enough strength to roll on top of him. As your lips move together in sync, you slowly bounce up and down. Moaning into the kiss, Taemin’s hands caress your breasts, his fingers teasingly pulling at your nipples.

His hands stay on your breasts when you sit up as you begin to slowly rock your hips back and forth. The hunger in his eyes makes the knot in your stomach tighten. Your eyes never leave his when you slide your fingers down and rub circles on your clit. Your chest quickly rises and falls because of the pleasure, causing you to lean your head back. Faster, you rub your clit as you feel yourself about to fall off the edge. Your eyes slightly roll back when you feel the knot break, Taemin’s name falling from your lips followed by deep breaths.

Reaching up, Taemin brings you down until your chest is against his, your skin sticking together. His arms lock you in place as he plants his heels in the bed and thrusts upward. He grunts in your ear, wanting to quicken his speed but controlling himself to take things slow to make this euphoric feeling last longer. His thrusts become shaky as his grip around you tightens. The sweet touch of your lips against his neck allows him to let loose as he thrusts up once more and spurts his seed inside you, your walls milking him for every drop.

His soft grunts subside as he tries to calm himself, slowly rocking his hips to come down from his high. When his grip around you loosens, you sit up enough to see his face - flushed and glistening with sweat. You exchange a tired smile before you remove yourself from his member that’s now coated in a mixture of yours and his orgasm.

Falling beside Taemin, his arms immediately embrace you, pulling you closer until your head rests against his chest. The morning’s bright light replaces the moonlight, painting the room in a warm hue. He presses a gentle kiss on the top of your head as he holds you tighter, afraid that this is just a dream.

“I guess there’s only one more question to ask,” Taemin says after a moment of silence. Your eyebrows furrow as you look up in curiosity to which he gives a sweet smile. “When’s the wedding?”

#taemin smut #shinee smut #kpop smut #taemin scenarios #shinee scenarios #kpop scenarios #taemin fanfic #SHINee FanFic #kpop fanfic

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noctisfishing · 3 years

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Colors in Distance

Color Shot #03 [ AO3 | FFN ]

Rated: T

Pairing: Taiora

Notes: This one has some heavier emotions compared to the other Color Shots so far. It tells a little bit about a long distance relationship, and echoes some moods of this pandemic, especially during the holidays. Don’t worry, this one still sticks to the fluffy theme, and I threw in some optimism, too.

I felt like giving readers something for my birthday (funny and annoying how this reminds me of Sora LOL) and I’m glad I published this in time. Much love and many hugs from Noct. <3

Color Shots are one-shot side stories to Colors in Autumn. #03 is set after a major plot point of Colors; otherwise, the stories can generally be read without reading the 152K monster of a fic. I’d still love it if you gave my monster baby a read, though. <3

Here it is if you’re ready for a little slow burn [ AO3 | FFN ]

See also:

#01 Colors in Christmas if you’d like to get in the spirit (bg Koumi & Takari) [ AO3 | FFN ]

#02 Colors in Dancing if you want to read pure fun (bg Koumi) [ AO3 | FFN ]

Click for an excerpt:

"Good morning, Taichi," Sora said in a gentle singsong, almost with a hint of mockery.

"I can't believe it's that time already," he grumbled with his eyes still shut.

"Weekends seem to run away from us so quickly."

"Mm." He turned to his side, yearning to return to slumber.

"Are you up yet?"

"Just a few more minutes…"

Sora laughed. "I don't have a 'snooze' button, remember? Do you want me to hang up and make your phone annoy you into waking up?"

With one final groan, he rolled out of bed and held his phone in front of his face as he stood up, using his free hand to rub his eyes. When he removed his hand, he looked back at his phone screen and noticed Sora staring with a smile.

"You're mocking me with those eyes," he said.

She giggled. "At least you're up now. You don't want to be late."

"If you insist."

Tai kept the video call on while he washed up and started to prepare for his day. Sometimes he would end the call the moment he stepped into the bathroom, but Sora would never be the one to hang up when her day was winding down just as his was starting up. There were some mornings that he wanted her to stay on as long as possible.

That morning was one of those times.

#digimon fanfiction #taiora #takenouchi sora #sora takenouchi #yagami taichi #tai kamiya #taiora fanfiction #colors #excerpt #noctiswriting

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getthebutters · 3 years

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I solved Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD/Seasonal Depression) so you don't have to. 9 easy proven steps

Summer is winding down. Despite the ponderosa, we’ve had some great fun and enjoyed living in a way that felt like it might never happen again. But that means Moody Emo Spooky Libra Sweater Weather Season is right around the corner!

While I love spooky season, it also signals the start of my annual decline into a depressive episode that lasts until somewhere near the spring equinox. Some people call it seasonal affective disorder (SAD); I call it hell. Though it is torturous to live like a zombie for 6 months a year, I’ve found ways to make my ride down the river Styx a lot more comfortable.

For example, our Fall releases are usually our best of the year because it matters more than any other time of the year. These creations are more than just new stuff to sell, they're a reason for us to take care of ourselves, remain sensual, creative, continue our rituals, and honestly stay alive.

But that’s just one part of this 1100-word article on beating seasonal affective disorder aka SAD aka Seasonal Depression aka the Fall fall. Since I personally deal with this shit, I’ve learned a ton to make this crappy season feel a lot better and I’m as excited as I can be to share them with you all!

Change your meds

"Treat yourself like a child or wild animal in a zoo. Plan activities or even just new stimulation for yourself. " -- Jerome

The change in seasons causes a change in brain chemistry. Even if your meds had been working previously, now might be the perfect time to increase your dose, add a helper or take a break. If you’re not on meds, it might be a good idea to think about. Talk to your doctor and see if there’s something you can try.

8 years ago, around my birthday, I started taking anti-depressants for the first time - Wellbutrin 100mg daily. A couple years later, I asked for a switch to something different and she added Zoloft 50mg daily. Which helped me regain my sense of optimism, creativity, and imagination. It’s been a long time; I’m glad to have them back.

Invest in a 5500k or higher lightbulb

Light therapy has been a great treatment for SAD and major depression for people closer to the poles for a long time. Light boxes are an easy but kind of expensive option – cheap ones start at $50. Whereas you could install an outlet timer and fluorescent bulb over your head to wake you up with a burst of “sunlight” every morning for about $25. You could also spend less than $10 and buy a specialty CFL (compact fluorescent) or a LED equivalent bulb that’ll fit in any standard outlet.

Keep busy, be useful

Because I like projects and fall on the frugal side, I prefer the DIY options for the tip above. Even if you have the cash for a light box, it’s always a great idea to aid your sense of accomplishment with a series of short projects or a long-term hobby. Although I have found some types of tasks, projects and hobbies work better than others.

For my depression, getting a useful hobby with measurable results has been a life and mind saver. Having something to care for, watching something grow, getting better at something, these things keep me connected to the world and people around me.

Give yourself a break

My depression feels like nothing, and everything is happening at once. The result is an exhausting mixture of behavior that is at times frantic, tense or eerily still – sometimes all at once. A bitch gets tired from time to time and when that happens, I give myself the time to rest up, even if that means sleeping for 24 hours straight.

Even under ideal brain conditions, rest is necessary. Autumnal depression or SAD has a way of zapping our energy like nothing else. It’s important to know when it’s time to rest. You’re not a failure for needing a nap or some solo Netflix and chill time.

Get stimulated

Now, I’m not a doctor or an expert on this. So, this is just some personal experience, not advice.

For me, the morning is a crucial time. If I can find a way to just start my mind right when I get out of bed, I can usually rev up to a functional level of energy; if not, I’m fucked. Previously, I fixed that with some not so legally acquired Adderall, but it raised my blood pressure too high. Now I start my day with a cup of coffee or two.

There’s something in the getting up and doing a useful thing plus ingestion of a stimulant that really seems to help me. I also like smoking cigarettes for the same reason. If you don’t like coffee but do like cannabis and tobacco, a spliff with a tobacco and a strong, energizing sativa might be a great option.

Novelty & Enrichment

Treat yourself like a child or wild animal in a zoo. Plan activities or even just new stimulation for yourself. Change up what shows you're watching, what you're wearing, the fragrances of butters you're wearing, the bath bombs you're using, the color of the light in your room, reorganize your space, change what you're eating, and who you’re fucking.

"It’s important to know when it’s time to rest. You’re not a failure for needing a nap or some solo Netflix and chill time. " -- Jerome

Maybe also trying some new things, even something you might think of as traditional and boring. Something like playing cards, board games, drawing, painting, taking a dance class, bingo, or working out.

Exercise

Look I understand that you already know this is a fact and if you want it to work out, you'd be working out already. So, this is going to be a very short section. But just know that exercise will make you feel better, moving on.

Stay away from downers

Whether it’s joy sucking people or intoxicants, it’s important to minimize the things that are zapping your energy and spirit. If you’re a weed smoker, stay away from indicas as they will make you sleepy. If you’re on SSRIs ask your doctor if adding a stimulant to your meds might help. If you’ve got a case of the fake people, say goodbye, goodbye to all the fake people your life.

Be selfish

Being selfish gets a bad rap. Usually, though, selfishness is actually healthy. We often overexert ourselves trying to be there for everyone. We need to spend more time being there for ourselves. Selflessness and sacrifice are valuable features in martyr, but martyrs die and you’re trying to live. Be a little selfish, sacrifice less of your soul and you’ll have a greater ability to lift yourself, which, funny enough, will still help to lift others.

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twelvesignsrp · 7 years

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congratulations q, aquarius is now nolitha “nola” foxcroft with the faceclaim amandla stenberg

APPLICATION

Character Sign: Aquarius

Character Name: Nolitha “Nola” Foxcroft

NOLITHA: “beam of light” | A name of Xhosa origin, the meaning behind their name is clearly different from those of their twin older brothers: Ezekiel meaning “God will strengthen” and Omari meaning “God the highest.” Nola presumed this shift in naming scheme was by divine intervention. Zeke and Omari were more straightforward than Nola; their brothers’ dreams were tangible, their feet ever-pinned to the ground. Stable, solid, zealous but strategic. God was their compass and their futures were mapped. Meanwhile, Nola was a mistral wind, strong but cold, quick but aimless. A spark led by no one and headed nowhere; an uncontrollable beam of light

↳ Note: I chose a Xhosa name because Amandla’s name has Xhosa and Zulu roots. Although I could not find any sources ethnically linking Amandla to South Africa, I find it reasonable that a black mother would choose an African name with a meaning like Amandla’s or Nolitha’s for the significance of it. Furthermore, I went against choosing Xhosa or Zulu names for Nola’s brothers to mitigate any insinuation that their family is of South African descent.

FOXCROFT: “residing beside an enclosure or croft” | This Anglo-Saxon surname is a topographic/habitation name. The reclusive implication of this name is representative of Nola’s reserved (and even enigmatic) nature. Moreover, the connection to a fox is fitting because of their cleverness and independence.

Birthday: 10/02/1997 (x)

Sexuality: Demiromantic Asexual

Gender: Non-binary (they/them)

Moon Sign: Gemini (x)

Faceclaim: Amandla Stenberg

Power: Illusion Projection

↳ Capabilities: “User can create illusions, causing targets to see, hear, touch, smell and/or taste things which do not actually exist or cause them to perceive things differently from what they truly are.”

↳ Use: Believing can be seeing. Nola’s power is about as erratic and enigmatic as they are. They’re highly imaginative and many illusions are created unwittingly from their tangled strings of thought. Until recently, they’d chalked up the strange occurrences and friends’ fabrications to luck and circumstance (maybe even lack of sleep). They’re still getting the hang of consciously creating illusions, but even then, they’re typically smaller things like the scent of expensive perfume or the sight of clear complexion even when they’re at their most stressed. I can envision Nola using this to win people over or have a bit of fun as they already have been.

What do they study? Law. It’s tough enough to challenge them intellectually, while still offering them an ambiguous future career path. (They like to keep their options open.)

Biography:

Nolitha Foxcroft was sunlight through a storm cloud, some sort of miracle so untouchable they could slip through your fingers as subtly as the seasons change. That is to say, their summer heat arrived long before most winters even began to melt into dewy spring. Perhaps that’s precisely why their mother named them Nolitha. A beam of light. A child who’d treat Eden like a playground, but belong there just the same. It was a shame they weren’t born in Eden—or anywhere close to it. Manchester wasn’t so picturesque with empty pockets. Their family knew this well enough for long enough. They were somewhere between lower and lower-middle class, content but never quite comfortable.

Nonetheless, the Foxcrofts were torchbearers of heart as much as they were exemplars of resilience. Dad was a math teacher for at-risk kids, while Mum was a proud community organizer. They found their wealth in giving to others, true humanitarians that made do with what they had. For every flood of job cuts, every frigid winter, every new body the streets sputtered out, Nola’s family was the first to stand up. Rallies, protests, marches, and fundraisers—the Foxcrofts were ever-present and loud with purpose. They were a staple in their community, which may be why they weren’t so determined to up and leave. Here, there was a rhythm they knew they could follow. Here, in tattered Manchester, they would always have a name and a purpose.

Beam of light that they were, that their family was, Nola was never destined to become just another warning tale of inner city youth. A slanted mirror image of their family’s steady strength and spirit, Nola better mimicked the anatomy of a revolution: the spark, flicker, blaze, an untamable wildfire child who lit up their luckless streets with the the kind of breezy, blooming magic no dealer could press or package. They were notoriously too smart or too unsound; too quirky or too reserved; too bubbly or too temperamental. A walking paradox with a glittering smile, they were never too concerned about the opinions of others that it mattered. Nola was perpetually misunderstood, yet somehow universally loved.

The last born after twin older brothers, Ezekiel and Omari, Nola was the prototype of happy-go-lucky, giggles-and-glee youngest children. They were lightning foreshadowing thunder, while their brothers were the roaring thunderclaps reverberating beneath your feet. The twins were grounded and concrete. Nola existed between millisecond-long blinks. Though Nola was the brightest of the three, Zeke and Omari were the ones with drive. Predictably, they set aside university to follow in Mum’s footsteps as activists. Nola had almost done the same. Almost—until they earned a hefty scholarship to Durham University. The opportunity to attend university, and to be able to afford it, no doubt, was one that they couldn’t justifiably pass up.

Five interesting facts about your character:

TW FACT #3 (BUBBLEGUM) FOR MENTIONS OF ANXIETY, MEDICATION, AND SELF-HARM

MIRROR, MIRROR | They take after their mum’s side of the family in their outrageous dedication to superstition. As a child, Nola loved tagging along whenever their mum sought out spirits in her spare time. Dowsing rods, thermometers, candles, magnets and the like were always ready to be put to use, lumped into a tattered cardboard box at the bottom of the kitchen cabinet. The belief in senseless traditions and good luck charms have followed Nola into adulthood. They still make the effort to catch falling leaves in autumn and keep an eye on the salt shaker at the dinner table. Although they don’t have as much faith in it all as they did in their younger years, it certainly makes life more fun.

LITTLE THINGS | Nola loves the feeling of starting something new, and perhaps this is why one of their favorite hobbies is collecting. Not anything in particular; simply, collecting as an activity in itself. They’re quite fleeting about it, non-committal and prone to giving up soon after they’ve begun. It would take more than two hands to count how many half-hearted collections have come and gone, hurtled through Nola’s room like a midnight train bound nowhere. The only collections that have survived Nola’s volatility, and of which they are most proud of, are their weathered jazz and blues vinyls (via thrift shops and flea markets) and sociopolitical buttons (largely via activist older brothers).

BUBBLEGUM | Nola has had generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) since they were a child. Before they were the glittering human embodiment of a shooting star, they were Saturn entrapped by rings of chaos, circling, circling, circling without end. They’ve always been more restless than truly active, but after years of rattling pill bottles and steady coping lessons, the fidgeting is a lot subtler now. Pacing and scratching have become bad habits of the past; these days, Nola’s almost always chewing gum to keep their tensions low. Unless someone is especially perceptive, Nola’s high-functioning anxiety has nearly everyone fooled. Even as a tiny ball of worry, baby Nola was still as seemingly happy-go-lucky as they are today. Bright, bouncy, and bubbly; the perfect extrovert.

IDLE GENIUS | Despite their natural gift of intelligence, Nola has no want for power or money; all they want is heedless autonomy and sheer knowledge and social change. They follow a path laid by optimism and Lady Luck. They are that kid: the one who constantly skips class but still aces every assignment; the one that can speed-write a stellar research paper the night it’s due; the one carefree and confident enough to go out and get hammered the night before the final exam. Nola is a pixie-dusted honeybee, blessed and blithe, and their entire world is neatly lined with freshly-blossomed flowers. All that glitters skims their unburdened fingertips like high tide kissing the coastline; theirs, if only they’d reach out to claim it.

AVANT-GARDE | Imagination and creativity are central components to their personality. Penniless parents led Nola to music and art as their main sources of entertainment. Double-dutch songs on the sidewalks as a child, performing in the metro stations for tips, belting gospel hymns at church, and melting into the jazzy swing of crackling vinyl after school. As a kid, Nola’s older brothers didn’t have to do much convincing to get them to switch from crayons on scrap paper to joining their amateur graffiti brigade. Weekend nights turned into graffiti activism and sneakers pounding across cracked pavement. The Foxcrofts’ murals and protest statements decorated Manchester’s worn trains and warehouses and walls. Nola got quite good at it, and still sketches designs in their notebooks from time to time.

Character Quote: “I’ll slip into heaven through a crack in the wall.”

↳ Theme song at the moment is definitely DNA. by Kendrick: “I got power, poison, pain and joy inside my DNA / I got hustle though, ambition, flow, inside my DNA / I was born like this, since one like this / Immaculate conception.”

If your character had a patronus what would it be? and why?

HUMMINGBIRD: “the sweetest nectar is within” | In nature, hummingbirds are swift and vivacious, always darting from place to place. Hummingbirds represent serendipity, nature’s reminder to seek out the good in life and the grandeur in each day. Despite their small size, they possess a lot of potential and power. Their independence and persistence thrives in the beauty of the present moment. Similarly, Nola seeks to do everything and to do it on a grand scale. When they come up with an idea, they feel compelled to follow it, unconcerned with whether or not it is reasonable. They are constantly thinking, constantly doing, and are fueled by their idealism and self-confidence. Sometimes this can get Nola into trouble because they often leap before they look; however, pure luck is usually on their side.

↳ Symbolizes energy, vitality, adaptability, joy, flexibility, renewal, healing, peace, infinity, agility, and playfulness.

WRITING SAMPLE

“Bullshit! You fuckin’ cheated!” Nola cried out through a fit of dulcet giggles. A million dollar grin was stretched across their face. Their chest felt heavy from laughing too hard. “Best out of three,” they countered. Mischief danced through the cool air. They readjusted their beanie to better blanket their ears, chilled fingers wrapped tight around their can of spray paint. Despite the blustering nighttime wind, Nola was still starving for a taste of victory. But, then again, when were they not?

“All cards on the table this time. Let’s go, hotshot,” they playfully taunted.

Nola’s eldest brother, Ezekiel, leaned against the graffitied wall of the long-abandoned corner store. His breathing was staggered through baritone laughter as his lungs raced to catch up with him. The destitute building was their traditional checkpoint, the final flag at the end of their speed-graffiti competitions. It was a pawn shop at one point in time, before Nola was even old enough to grasp that the world was larger than their family’s two-bedroom flat. Like most local shops in their shadowed part of Manchester, transience was a default setting; nothing lasted and nobody stayed if the choice was offered.

Ezekiel cocked an eyebrow. “Mum didn’t raise you a sore loser, did she?” he teased. Broad shoulders shrugged back, his smirk begging for a challenge as per usual. Though Nola reckoned they picked up many of their self-assured mannerisms from their brothers, where they matched in demeanor, they differed in personality. It went without asking that Nola was the youngest of the three. The baby. The twins channeled their energy into the things that mattered most to them; Nola’s fervor was blind, aimless, and unhindered. They all thrived on victory, but Nola was significantly less concerned with prizes or titles. Winning was their lifestyle.

Nola made a face at Ezekiel’s comment. The can rattled in their left hand as they shook it in preparation for the next round. “Find it hard to believe Mum taught you to be a dirty cheat,” they fired back. Banter was instinctual between the siblings. They wouldn’t want it any other way.

Ezekiel chuckled and began to peel himself off of the shop’s exterior. “Ready, set?” he proposed, body poised to run.

Already bounding into the dark, Nola shouted over their shoulder, “And they’re off!”

#aquarius #accepted

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