#I've never seen my grandma from my dad's side though (not even a picture) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 3 months

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Someone anyone pls. My boyfriend has unfortunately had his phone broken so I haven't been talking with him, and I feel so lonely 😞 Also ALL OF MY FRIENDS LIVES ARE CRUMBLING APART?? My friend just broke up with her boyfriend, because of her mental health, but I suspect that it might be because of the boy she's been flirting with on the side. My other friends sibling is breaking up with their douche of a man, thank goodness. Two OTHER friends, who are literally bestfriend and have been for years, have been fighting eith eachother amd separating from our little group?? Also my dads been talking about death and I find myself looking at baby pictures of me and him with my grandma and great grandma, crying about thinkinf that I'm gonna be the only one alive in that picture some day. It also dawned on me that he's like the only person that I KNOW I'll have until we perish. We were watching mamma mia, and the whole time I kept thinking that I wished my mom loved me like Donna loved her daughter, and mentioned how I'd like to move into a little island or something. I guess my dad saw me holding back tears during the "slipping through my fingers" song, because he told me we could move to Alaska just he and I. (That's his dream place) PLEASE IM SOBBING THINKING ABT THE FACT HES NEVER BEEN.

Anyways, it made me think of my goal in life, and its to someday bring my dad to Alaska with me. Regardless if hes with me, just inside an urn. (I'm being so dead serious, I love my dad even if I went through some shit for most of my childhood. He's like the only person in my life who has stepped up, and made an actual change in his behavior for MY sake. It's admirable, and I've always been my fathers daughter. I'm just more proud to say it now after everything hes been through, and the changes hes gone through for my well being.)

I apologize about the rant, I fear that I've been holding that within me for so long. My friends don't really care about my personal life, and sometimes I'm glad that I keep it that way. ANYWAYS.

I realize that I haven't been in your asks, but I did follow through with that strike. Stayed off my phone unless it was to check about the updates for Palestine, and reposting. Didn't buy groceries, I even stopped going to classes for the time being. I'm sad to know that it's not getting any better, and I'm ashamed to say that my little town has very little businesses that DON'T support Israel. So I can't really avoid buying things from those places :(

Been keeping up with your writing though, for the most part. I'm very sad that it will come to an end, but I'm excited to see the ending. I'm ALSO EXCITED FOR INUMAKI 😻😻😻😻😻

Anyways, gonna go shower because I feel like a dirty corndog that was dropped at a fair. Wish me luck that I don't run out of warmish water, I always seem to do so because my hair is so hard to manage and I have like 10 different products that I have to put in it. (I'm being dramatic, I usually sit and let it do it's thing while I sing the weekend and deftones. 😞)

GOODNIGHT STAY WARM!!!!

Xoxo 👽

don’t wanna be mean but i’m glad ur bf broke his phone 😊 BUT JESUS WHY R ALL UR FRIENDS LIVES SIMULTANEOUSLY IN SHAMBLES ??? LIKE WHAT IS GOING ON HERE ???😭😭 that’s crazy… hopefully the two that have been friends for years figure their stuff out…

mamma mia will get u… it always will… (i’ve never seen it) BUT HE SAID U COULD MOVE TO ALASKA JUST U N HIM STOP IM SOBBING OH MY GOD??? that sounds like a very good life goal bae!! i’m sure he’d love that whether he’s actually with u or in an urn like u said!! and i’m super glad you have him and that he stepped out to make a change in himself for u i love that for u bae :( DONT APOLOGIZE FOR THE RANT ITS OKAY I DONT MIND !!

u haven’t but it’s okay!! i know you’ll pop up eventually LMFAO and yay for following through with the strike!! i really hope a lot of other people did as well.

YAY SO GLAD YOUVE BEEN KEEPING UP WITH MY WRITING N ARE EXCITED BAE🤞🤞🤞

A DIRTY CORNDOG THAT WAS DROPPED AT A FAIR HELEOEMEME LMFOAOA ENJOY UR SHOWER!! (whats ur favorite the weekend and deftones song…)

#axel answers ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★#axel answers// 👽

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 3 years

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Part 24: Appearance

Erik shuffled down the aisle of the train car, crutch nudged snuggly into his armpit and a suitcase half his size rolling behind with a heavy looking duffel. No one offered assistance and he didn't ask. As a black man, he could always count on that as a consistency. Crutches and all, he'd be viewed as overly capable. From a young age it was ingrained through experience.. all you have is yourself because no one out here will help you, a young black man. Time had proven it again and again. Injured, he could still handle more weight than the average man and it was because he pushed himself. He relied only on himself. Even hospitalized, he found ways to maintain his strength. Weakness and laziness was never an option, not even for recovery. With all his money, that was still something he couldn't afford. But they could.. the white couple on the left. He couldn't help but notice them sitting there.

A closer look told him they weren't actually a couple. The blonde girl's face screamed underage. Fifteen/sixteen. The heavy makeup she wore aged her. She looked high. Heroin, Erik guessed glancing subtly for track marks. She looked up and he glanced away to a Spanish speaking family with five kids including a crying baby. He bit his lip on his way to take his seat at the rear where he could see everyone. The man in front of him was on his way to sleep. Erik put in his earbuds and continued his watch.

As the hours passed, he noticed more and more. The kids had no home training. The parents had no sense of awareness considering they sat opposite a fifteen year old girl being held against her will. It could easily be one of their kids, with them not paying attention it wouldn't take much. The baby had the healthiest lungs of any baby he'd ever heard. That blonde girl was high as hell. She got up to use the bathroom on his side of the train and he kept his eyes down as she passed with her trafficker on her ass to make sure she ain't try nothing risky. Ain't none of my black ass business, Erik told himself. He hadn't signed up to save any little blonde girls. He kept his eyes down as they passed him again to return to their seats and she dropped a tiny earring on the floor next to his foot on purpose. Damn, he groaned dropping his head on the back of the seat. Why me? I just said I ain't wanna get involved in this shit.

Taking a deep sigh, he picked up the earring and did what made sense. He googled the train police department and texted in a report using his sub contact phone, the main phone. He gave a description of the couple and information regarding the train. You're welcome, he thought watching the back of the girl's head before settling back in his seat comfortably. Any other time he'd have ignored her, not that victims often reached out to him so clearly. Still, it was an unnecessary risk calling on police. What if they decided to search the train? The whole point of taking the train was to not be searched.

Y/N would be proud right now, his lip twisted in irritation. She'd become the true north of his moral compass. What would Y/N do in the situation? The thought made him nauseous. She wouldn't survive his lifestyle. He wouldn't survive it with her morals. This is dangerous. We are completely incompatible, but I still want you, he admitted to himself. It was more like need. Obsession even. There was a burning feeling in his gut. "This shit ain't healthy," he muttered.

-----

"Wow, may I..," Tanner's fingers hover in the air, his eyes on your fresh braids. Your eyebrows answer before you can and he lowers his hand with a smile. "Those braids are really something. Would it be offensive if I asked how they're attached?" He looks so fascinated. He's been staring and talking to the top of your head since he saw you this morning in the lobby and now he's staring just as hard from across the small booth table at Pho Station.

"You just buy braiding hair and braid it into your hair. That's literally it."

"Braiding hair.. what's that?" His head rests on his hand as his elbow sits on the table. He's so curious, staring dreamily.

"It's packs of hair you get at the store specifically for braided styles." You slurp in a spoonful of long noodles.

"Is it human hair?"

"Synthetic." It comes out muffled as you break off the noodles hanging from your mouth with a chopstick so you can swallow.

"Synthetic? What's the difference..," his blue eyes drift lazily down to your nearly black ones. "Well, I mean in how they look."

"Human hair is typically Malaysian or Brazillian, something like that. You can straighten or curl it because it's actual hair. Synthetic fibers can melt but it's inexpensive and can mimic hair textures well."

"Well it's beautiful," he nods. "I've always wondered about it. Does it hurt?"

"Mm-mm," you grumble slurping the broth of your chicken pho. "No these are knotless and they don't hurt." That confuses him so you get into the difference between regular box braids and knotless. "You can't even sleep when you first get regular box braids because it's so tight that's why I don't wear them."

"Yes.. don't wear them if they hurt. Don't wanna pull out all that beautiful hair.." His eyes hold a familiar twinkle. The way he stares.. it reminds you of Erik. You don't wanna think about the meaning of it.

"Damn right.. Hey your pho's gonna get cold."

"Oh," his brows raise in faux offense. He picks up his soup spoon looking away for the first time. It's about time. "Well these.. knotless braids," he gestures with the spoon, "They look amazing on you," he smirks. "But you're already gorgeous, you know that."

"This from a Gene Kelly/James Dean lookalike. You look like you belong in a Marvel movie. That dark hair.. chiseled jaw? And who do you get those eyes from?"

"My grandma. My mom's eyes are carmel brown and so are my sister's. My father's are a darker brown."

"Punnet square kicked in hard."

"So tell me where your features come from," his eyes twinkle, hands folded under his strong chin. Your heart nearly skips a beat. It took a while for you to admit it to yourself because you'd have to admit you were lowkey using him.. but you knew what he was doing and how he felt from the start. That look was infatuation.

Opening doors, calling on me, paying for lunch every time, bringing me coffee? It's a lot.. Well that's because he likes me.. No It could be friendly, doesn't mean he likes me.

Almost everyday you told yourself the same thing.

I don't want him as anything more than a friend, maybe a work husband now that I know he's a cool lil white boy. I think he knows that..

Not when you flirt back he doesn't know that..

But is it really flirting or being nice? Besides I think he might feel the same.

A look into his eyes slams that possibility.

Who am I kidding. Maybe it's wrong to let him pay. Is that selfish?..

Girl, you're not dumb you know exactly what you're doing..

No, but really, I enjoy his company. I look forward to our little lunch outings as much as he does..

Then pay for yourself!..

I KNOW, but I don't.. want to...

Blinking, you sigh clearing your guilty conscience. "I look exactly like my dad but my personality is my mom."

"Oh really. That's where you get those adorably chubby cheeks from? Your dad? Interesting family photos I bet."

"Believe it or not that's also where I get this tummy and all this ass from," I say straight faced watching his cheeks sink in. On that note, he buries himself in his pho and I watch him hold himself together, the both of us laughing on the inside.

"You're ridiculous," he smiles down at his bowl. "What will I ever do with you.."

"Hopefully keep feeding me."

"Of course, Barb told me about a BBQ place about fifteen minutes from here. How about tomorrow?"

"Then I can show you pictures of my bootylicious father," you stare watching him collect himself again.

"Wow," he chokes on his broth. "Or we can look at yours, completely up to you."

-----

Never had it felt so good to be coming or going. Erik wheeled his bags through the station coolly, but internally he was leaping for joy like a little kid. After touching down in every continent through the military as a soldier and then a mercenary soldier, he was used to traveling. New locations, customs, and languages were the norm. War, battle, and toppling small countries for their resources and political control was the norm. It wasn't right, but it made big money and when his service ended, he retired. However, that didn't change the fact that he was still a multilingual and adaptable war weapon with no other real skill or interest other than killing. He was good at it so he made it a business. A consultant was what he called himself. Gameplay and development was the front.

Life as an assassin made him his own boss. He could kill and go off the map at will. He'd travel as far as it took to complete the task and take cash or cryptocurrency which he'd translate into several offshore accounts before his domestic ones. He'd usually buy a throwaway car, restock his ammo, spend time sunbathing on a yacht in the Maldives, hunker down in a city where he blended in and then isolate for a month wallowing in a small room before his next kill. Sightseeing wasn't on his agenda. He'd been all over the world and seen the worst of human nature. Texas had been a first as far as experiencing the high points anywhere. He'd enjoyed his stay with a woman and they'd gone on dates, real dates. He'd gone to an amusement park of all places and taken her around the city. It was magical though he'd almost been killed for it. Texas.. Not Cartagena or Havana or Jaipur but country ass Texas. Now here he was finally back in Cali. Nothing came close to the joy of having someone waiting for him. Someone who'd be overjoyed to see him. His job was done, his leg was healing up nicely, no one was after him because he'd left no one alive that could easily identify him. He was on his way home.

Home, he smiled somewhat bitterly. More like playing house.. Ain't none of this shit real and eventually it will end, probably in disaster.

Still.. He couldn't drop the facade for it was filling a hole within him that he hadn't realized until recently could be filled. He had latent desires. Playing house with her was the closest to a home he'd ever get.

-----

Erik's car takes premium gas and you wonder about his bills. Is he paying them? 'Cause you're not. He'd better have it worked out because once the lights go out in this isolated grand establishment, you're gone. You've gotten too used to walking around with every bright light in the house on at night. Walking through the bathroom butt naked you light the very last of his pricey looking black label white candles having burned through the rest of his supply. This one's Leather scented, not the best but not bad. That's why it was last. Locking the bathroom door out of habit, you run the shower and enjoy the luxurious spa room you've become accustomed to. The water pressure still hits. The warm thick white towels are fresh from the dryer. Your body is hairless from shaving and you've just purchased a new body oil to try that Ava swears by. Though you're only going to bed, you can't resist it. It smells like like fresh baked cookies from the oven and makes your skin radiate golden. It's perfect for a pool party or the beach.. whenever you end up going again which may be a while. Taking a few suggestive shiny body selfies in the towel, you decide to go ahead and send them to Erik though he doesn't deserve them. Someone has to see your glass skin. You hadn't spoken to him in the last two days as he'd been "busy". Doing what, you had no clue. It felt like bullshit. All of it. It was maddening to the point that you didn't want to care anymore, whether he returned or stayed. He'd been gone too long. Waaay too long. His reasons for wanting you out of Texas were beginning to feel like lies.

There's probably a huge harem of harlot whores he's entertaining and he doesn't want me to know he lied about only having three submissives, the asshole. He's probably in some twisted unsanitary orgy in a dark and questionable dungeon drinking glowing lime jello shooters and getting blackout drunk right now.. Probably whipping some poor girl with one of those long cowboy whips. God knows what he does with his other subs. If he was that dirty with Lil Bitch's morally debased ass and that was in front of me...

Every now and again the thought would cross your mind. Fuck him, you thought. Stay gone. I'll keep living here alone in the lap of luxury.

Never before had you been in a hot tub so often. It did wonders for a post work unwind with a smoothie or herbal tea in hand. You didn't need him when you had wifi, cable, powerful A/C, and a full fridge. He could stay with whoever he was with.

But what if he doesn't come back, your mind wonders darkly. What if he stays in Texas and never comes back?

Suddenly the house seems a lot chillier and unwelcoming.. Empty even. Too quiet. Hugging yourself for comfort you wander through the house and turn each of the lights off one by one to get an idea once more just how dark it gets. Too dark. Pitch black. You can't even see a hand in front of your face and panic sets in along with a strong inner body chill. This isn't something you can do and if Erik never comes back...

Honestly you've never seriously considered that possibility. The thought brings a loneliness that echoes the depth of darkness, both equally terrifying. The fact is that you do care.. profoundly to the point that his continued absence really bothers you. He has already become an indestructible pillar in your everyday life. Going days without so much as a hello feels like a week and that doesn't do much good for your anxiety.

Flipping each of the lights back on, you settle into Erik's bed this time around and stare at the time until you doze off. When you open your eyes there's natural light coming in through the window and you take a grateful breath before sitting up in the bed.

"Good morning," a chilling voice interjects and you nearly have a heart attack, unable to scream in the face of Flu sitting on the edge of the bed watching you. You want to run, scream, fight, anything but your body which is frozen in absolute fear and shock will not move. He smiles and you dart upright in bed sweating cold bullets and panting. Outside is still dark. According to the clock you've been sleep three and a half hours. It's 3:30 AM. Taking a deep breath to calm your breathing you look around the room comforting yourself with the mantra "It's just a dream. You're okay. You're okay. There's nothing to worry about. You've been safe and you're still safe. You're completely safe." A few minutes of repeating it and looking around, listening closely to the air has you relaxed enough to fall back asleep especially since your eyes are crossing up. When your eyes open again you check the clock. It's been almost another hour but you keep waking up.

Hold up. Didn't I have the light on?

Thinking back, your half sleep mind isn't completely sure but you know you sleep with the lights on. Nervous to move, your wide eyes search the pitch blackness before you and when you get the courage to move, you turn over bracing yourself to see Flu sitting there beside you on the bed. Nothing's there or out of the ordinary.

Did the lights go out? Did it blow? I think I had it on...

It's not getting up to explore. That's how people fir in movies. Instead, you bury your head in the covers like a small child and slip back into sleep. Or at least almost. Before you can cover your eyes with the blanket, you hear something that sounds like a slight vibration. That would be normal.. if your phone wasn't all the way downstairs.

A hand clamps over your mouth and as you feel a body quickly cover yours you grab at the darkness in attempt to gouge, scratch, and scrape whatever you can reach. When you pull locs, your brain registers and you yank them hard to get a noise.

"AHH," he whisper screams.

"ERIK WHAT THE FUCK?!" This time your lungs are free and healthy because you yell directly in his ear, slapping at him. "YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK." Breathless, you try to catch it, still swinging. "Why would you do that! What the fuck is wrong with you!"

"I wanted to surprise you," he grips your hands. "I didn't think you'd try to rip my damn hair out! And why your nails so sharp!"

"Are you mentally deficient? In what world did that seem like a good idea to you?!"

"Catch your breath," he says quietly.

Getting up he flips the lights and sits on the bed beside you. You haven't seen him in what feels like ages. "You still having nightmares." It's not a question as he looks in your tired eyes.

"Not often, just a couple of times since I've been on my own here." You didn't really have them when you two were together. He nods understanding your meaning. You hadn't mentioned it on the phone or through text. What could he have done about it anyway? There's a moment of silence as he rests his hand over your blanketed leg.

"I'm sorry for being away so long..," he says quietly. "I mean it. I'm sorry for scaring you.. I honestly didn't consider the nightmares because when we were together you didn't have them. I promise you, you are safe. He can't hurt you. There are many things in this world that can, but I promise he's not one.. and as long as I'm here I won't let anyone touch you. I will protect you with my life."

"That's good and all," you sigh, half listening and half asleep already. "But can you just.. stay here with me until I fall asleep."

"You in my bed," he smiles climbing fully dressed under the blanket to scoop you into his arms. Instantly your body clings to his and his shirt becomes your new pillow. You feel the quick sensation of his lips on your temple. "Did you miss me," he whispers. You mean to respond, but instead you fade out asleep.

-----

As soon as he'd slipped into the bed, she was knocked, sleeping soundly and breathing loud. He stroked her braids, her arm, and her back gently but firmly the way he always had when she needed help to relax.

"I missed you," he whispered into her forehead. She responded with a small fart and his nose crinkled. He didn't smell it which meant it was trapped under the blanket. She did it once more just then but it was louder. She'd be horrified if she were awake. "Y/N," he groaned hoping he wouldn't smell it. He didn't dare move though. He only sighed and continued rubbing her back. "Stink," he nicknamed her on the spot. "My lil stink stink," his stomach jumped in humor thinking of her reaction in the morning. He wanted to see the expression on her face when he called her that and when she heard the explanation of why. It made his chest shake. He tried to control it so not to wake her. She was sleeping too good for him to even get up and take his outside clothes off and they were hot to sleep in. He wanted to get comfortable.

That's okay, he decided as he settled in to fall asleep exactly where he was, under her. It took some effort to get comfortable in that position but in that moment there was no other place he'd have rather been.

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#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #house rules

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jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years

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Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer I

Part 02: That James Deam Daydream

series masterlist | previous part

summary: After the car accident, you haven’t been able to get Rafe out of your mind but hasn’t he already caused enough trouble?

a/n: With the semester ending I have a lot more free time so I plan on updating this series more consistently (ie weekly)!! I’m also gonna start a taglist for this series so if you want to be added to it drop a ☀️ in my inbox/messages!

word count: 1.5k

The fluorescent lights of the hospital flooded your vision as you blinked your groggy eyes open. The machines you were connected to beeped slow and hypnotically beside you. You could feel the pain that would ripple through your body with every movement before had even attempted to sit up. Your breathing was labored and forced, an unusual sensation.

Your mom entered the room carrying two cups of steaming coffee which she placed on the small table in the corner of the room as soon as she noticed you were awake. She sat down quickly in the chair that was situated on the left side of your hospital bed. She automatically took your hand in hers.

"Oh, good, honey. You're awake. How are you feeling?" She asked, her brow knit together in concern. The bags under her eyes seemed to give you some indication of how long you'd been out. Your mother was always the most put together in the room. Her dirty blonde hair, the same color as yours, always gave the allusion of having been freshly blown out. Her makeup never looked chalky or stale, a skill you'd never quite been able to replicate. She lived in black blazers and stilettos, her purse resting in the nook of her arm.

The person holding tightly onto your hand in that hospital room was an entirely different version of your mom. One that two days ago had gotten a call that her daughter had gotten into a car crash, thrown a bunch of clothes in a suitcase, and board the first available flight from Oregon to the Outer Banks.

Your eyelids drooped, it was taking all your energy to keep them open so you let them close.

"Mom," you said, your voice coming out just barely above a whisper. "What happened?" You asked, even though you remembered most of what had happened the night of the crash.

The way you'd scrapped your knee climbing out of your window of your Nonna's house. The beautiful Cameron boy. The bonfire and the stink eye Phoebe had given you all night. The headlights of the car bellowing down the wrong side of the road. Rafe's hand grabbings yours.

Your mom reached up and brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen onto your face. "You were in a car crash y/n. The other car hit the side of the one you were in and pushed you into a ditch. The force of the airbag fractured your rib which punctured your lung. The doctors said you're gonna be okay but they're keeping you on an IV drip of some pain meds."

Your chest did feel heavy but not just from the injuries.

"Wh- what about Rafe? Is he okay?" You forced yourself to open your eyes.

Your mom breathed in sharply. "He's okay. He left the hospital yesterday with his dad with only a concussion and a broken wrist."

"Mmmhmm." You mumbled in acknowledgment. You could feel sleep taking over once again. "I love you." You said to your mom before drifting off.

☼☼☼

Your bed was littered with the clothes you should have been packing because your flight left early tomorrow morning but instead, you were laying on the floor staring up at the ceiling, the fan whirling around rapidly. The August heat had seeped into the house, causing you to break into a sweat with the smallest movement. The sounds of the conversation between your Nonna and mom echoed from downstairs. You were sure they were probably arguing about you, again.

Your mom hadn't been able to let the accident go even though. You tried to explain to her how you'd left the house without your Nonna's permission so it wasn't like it was totally her fault. You sighed, wincing at the pain that still ran through your body when you took too deep a breath.

A tiny ping filled your ears causing you to sit up.

Ping. There it was again.

A third peddle hit your window. You walked over to it, sliding it open to see Rafe standing on the lawn below.

Your breath hitched. You hadn't seen him since that night but he looked exactly the same except for the black splint on his wrist.

"Hi," he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth so his voice carried.

You glanced over your shoulder nervous that your mom or Nonna were going to walk into the room at any moment having heard Rafe's shouting.

"Come up here," you replied, waving him up to your room.

With a surprising amount of speed for someone with only one good wrist, he pulled himself up the side of the porch and climbed through your window.

His eyes meet yours as he landed on the carpet and words escaped you entirely. The sparks that had been there that night hadn't disappeared at all.

"Hey, stranger," Rafe said, failing to hold back a smirk.

"Nice cast," you replied.

He looked down at it and quickly back up at you. "I'm sorry about everything. I promised to get you home safe and then got us into a car crash. Not exactly how I pictured the night ending." He forced a laugh but the regret in his voice was unmissable.

You took a step closer to him. "You don't have to apologize Rafe. You did everything you could. And I'm okay. You're okay. We're alive." There was more you wanted to say but the words seemed to disappear before you could form them.

Rafe closed the distance between the two of you stopping right in front of you. "God, I like you so much and I really fucked it up. Didn't I?"

This time a genuine laugh escaped you. "I think we might be able to salvage it." You responded feeling unusually bold. You grabbed his face, pulling him down to your level and placed an urgent kiss on his lips.

He slipped his own hand behind your neck, keeping your mouth pressed against his. The air around you was electric and neither of you dared to pull away first.

The door to your bedroom swung open and your Nonna's loud stern voice suddenly took over.

"Y/n y/l/n."

You stepped away from Rafe quickly, dropping your arms to your side. You turned around to face your Nonna. Her face was set with anger.

"Out Mr. Cameron." She instructed.

"Right. I was just leaving." He replied, moving back towards the window.

"Out the front door." Your Nonna clarified.

"Oh, yeah. Of course. My bad." Rafe said. His eyes connected with yours for just a moment as he walked out of the room. Your head the front door close behind him a few beats later.

You stayed frozen in the middle of the room, awaiting the lecture you knew was coming next.

Your Nonna crossed the room and shut the window.

"You're letting all the a/c out." She said, dryly.

"I'm sorry," you responded, apologizing for more than leaving the window open.

"A Cameron boy almost ruined your mother's life. I won't let the same thing happen to you." Your Nonna pushed some of your clothes aside and sat down on the bed.

"Your mom," she started again. "She started dating Rafe's dad, Ward, during her junior year. He was a year older and going to UNC in the fall. She wanted to follow him after she graduated high school. She thought she loved him and I told her no. Told her she could pick anywhere else but I wouldn't pay for her to throw her life away for puppy love. They broke up in October of her senior year. She barely spoke more than a few words to me for months. Then she moved away to California for college and didn't call me her entire freshman year. It was the hardest thing I've had to do as a mother. It almost ruined me. Ruined our relationship. But he was never going to really make her happy. He didn't love her like she loved him and it would never have lasted and then she'd be stuck at a school that she hadn't chosen for herself." Your Nonna looked up at you as she finished speaking.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" She asked. "That Cameron boy isn't good for you." Your Nonna stood up and walked over to you. She placed a kiss on your forehead. "I love you, muffin."

"I love you too." You replied. "I gotta finish packing."

"Okay," she said, closing the door behind her as she walked out of your room.

You flopped backward onto your bed and let out an audible groan. You had finally kissed Rafe Cameron and of course, your Nonna had to walk in at that moment.

Your phone, which had been previously discarded in the mess on your bed, buzzed. You pulled it out from under a pile of swimsuits. A text from Rafe popped up on the screen.

r: 'I'm officially scared of your grandma.'

y/n: 'hahah did you know our parents dated in hs?'

r: 'Really? I didn't. Weird.'

r: 'When do you leave?'

y/n: 'tomorrow moring'

The three dots showing that Rafe was typing appeared the screen up again and then went away. You waited another moment before turning your phone off and tossing it to the side.

You knew your Nonna just wanted the best for you but it wasn't gonna be easy to get Rafe Cameron out of your head.

#outer banks #obx #obx netflix #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #outer banks series #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron obx #where it leads series #where it leads

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luimagines · 3 years

Note

(Verisimilitude- OKAY thats just redundant let's shorten it to Veri Anon) Honestly I was just super impressed with the fact you even have a schedule up for this and stuff, you're an amazing writer haha! I love the way you make characters seem... Human? Like I said before they sound modern but that also brings up the benefit of easily humanising them, I've never seen someone do it so effectively haha (ESPECIALLY FOUR HOLY SCHMOLY IVE BECOME A HUGE FOUR SIMP HELP HELP) I am super sorry if that English comment upset you in any way though!! I personally really enjoy the language but I'm sorry if you've encountered any bad feelings related to it... If you'd like to speak on it that's okay!! You should be given a space to bring out the feels!! Remember to stay hydrated too !

I just made a bunch of prompts in one day and managed to get a week ahead at first and ... didn't stop for a while.

So I'm pretty ahead now!

And thank you! It's not always easy to make a character relatable, or someone you might meet in real life, but I've been trying my best.

And as for the English comment I was never upset with you, don't take it that.

Like I said there's a story there, so I'll put it under the cut for one else who wants to read it. Truthfully I hadn't thought about it in years so when I read your comment I was thrown back nearly a decade.

I was in a bit of funk for the next few hours.

Story Time.

Ok so context..

I've been bilingual my whole life.

My father is American while my mom is Costa Rican.

She moved up here with him and things happened and she got stuck while my dad moved away back to Costa Rica. He's not in the picture nor is he important to the story.

For a little more context, I don't look my mom. I'm white. My brother and I take after our father, unfortunately.

But anyway, my mother side of the family only speaks Spanish.

So, when we finally get to see them for the first time in ten years. The first time I'm meeting them when I'll be able to remember them and the first time they're meeting my brother in person and vice versa. My brother does not speak Spanish but we've been working on it.

And while we were visiting, apparently some guy who my grandma and aunt loved to have around visited almost everyday.

But my mom doesn't know this guy and neither do we, but since we're just staying there for a while it's like, whatever right? It's their house and we don't have a lot of time here to begin with so we'll bare with it.

He was annoying.

But again, it's whatever right?

Now, one day, my aunt wants to give me highlights in my hair. She was a stylist before she retired and I was wiling because, why not?

They looked great by the way when we were done.

But I'm sitting by the kitchen table while my aunt gets to work and gets everything ready and in comes the guy.

He gets into a conversation with my mom.

Apparently he's traveled around the world or something like that (I don't remember what for or if he just could, he apparently knows like seven languages).

Anyway, I don't know exactly what he was thinking but he starts complaining about the US and Americans in general and who we're all this, that and the other thing. And I guess he went off because he knew we came from the States? Like oh this woman would know what I'm talking about and since we're both Costa Ricans she'll agree or something?

My mom did not agree.

He says he visited.

My mom tells him she's been living there for sixteen years at this point.

And the people here are not what he's describing.

She says she's sorry if he's had a bad experience in the short time he was there but he's still wrong. It's not everyone.

They got back and forth for a bit and my mom is trying to be as respectful as she can because again, she doesn't know him and this is her mother's house and her mother likes him. Gotta play it cool. We're not there to make enemies.

Now, I'm right there.

Like three or four feet away. Barely over a meter of distance away.

It's a small house.

And he's not being really quiet either.

I'm not exactly hidden away either. He even makes eye contact with me a few times, because I'm not trying to hide the fact that I'm listening in.

And I'm already hurt a bit, because I know I'm included in every "every American' generalization he's made.

This guy gets the memo that my mom isn't going to agree any time soon.

So he somewhat changes the topic.

And instead starts talking about the language instead of the people.

English is dull.

English is boring.

English is too simple.

Every word is one syllable.

English, because of this lack of complexity, is barbaric and stupid.

It's a stupid language.

Compared to Greek, French, German, Spanish- why the hell would you choose to speak English?

He's not talking to me though.

He's talking to my mom.

To my mom's credit, she defends what she can and doesn't back down from this guy.

She may not know him, but she's definitely not scared of him.

I bet she speaks better English than him anyway. But-

I'm right there.

I'm twelve years old.

It's not like I chose to be American or that I chose to speak English as my first language.

I'm listening to all of this.

Because I'm getting my hair done only a meter away. I can't move.

I don't remember everything that he said word for word, but I felt horrible.

I remember I had tears run down my face but I was quite and I didn't move so I don't think anyone really noticed.

My aunt is there too, doing my hair, but she also likes this guy and she's only ever visited the states and she doesn't speak English. She has no way to refute his claims.

And what could I say?

What's going to get this grown man to stop?

That day, I guess my mom scared him with how much she wasn't believing him and how much she questioned everything he was saying. Because it was more than just that but I was gone by then.

They talked for a long time.

Debated is a better word than talked I guess.

Whatever the case, he didn't visit everyday after that.

My mom and I felt better after that.

We move on and that's that.

I don't think he knew I could understand him

I suppose he took one look at me and thought I only spoke English- he wouldn't be the first person from there to make that assumption.

Which is fair. I'm white. I don't look my mom. I look like I'm not from there. I look American.

But I could and I did.

I suppose it was something I internalized.

Because English is simple.

It's supposed to be a spoken language.

It only gets complicated when you have to put in paper. Reading and writing it is hard and there are some words that I know I'm never going to spell right on the first try even if I lived for ten thousand years.

I never it considered it beautiful and even less from others who have it as a second or third or forth language. Only that it... just.... exists. And they more less have to learn it with how the system works. Whether it be racism or capitalism or any other isms that have put this on them.

Because why would they do so willingly?

I don't know if I would have considered it to be anything else if you never said anything.

So I wanted to thank you.

Thank you.

#pinky replies #pinky speaks #Another thing that bugs be is how American are always the but of the joke #and I get it #We're not the more intellectual people #we're not that smart #I'm a victim to it as well #I'll laugh along #because it's deserved and I know that's how it is #I don't offended easily either #so like yeah #that's us #we're dumb #wow we're so dumb #But what I see more often than not is when we try to poke back for little things #we're suddenly attacked with things that actually hurt #why can't we get it on the fun?#why is it only funny when it's at our expense?#why do we have to put up with it but others (usually Europeans) get to say something and we lose anywyay #I don't get it #but I'll laugh along #and smile and bare it #because I'm American #I'm not that smart #What would I know?#But don't my inbox telling me anything else #I know #Just venting #this probably shouldn't be on *this* blog #but oh well

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mojesticworlds · 5 years

Text

Wedding Bell Promises

Draco Malfoy X OC

Word count: ??? (I'm on mobile 🤷)

I do not know the owner of the gif as I'm on mobile, sorry. If you know the owner please let me know.

Reader's Insight: Ginny and Maeve Weasley are twins, who at the age of six promised to be the maid of honour at each other's weddings, come hell or high water.

During the Battle against the Dark Lord Voldermort, Maeve pushed Ginny out of the way of a killing curse, however she wasn't so lucky herself.

It was quiet.

It was stale.

It was dim.

It was... Saint Mungo's?

I stared into the darkness for a moment before I pushed my hands against the stiff gurney and forced myself to sit up. There was light peering through under the closed door, my eyes spotted my bedside table which held a green and gold leather bound book, my wand laying in a box with green silk and a dark red gown hung on the wall inbetween the table and the wall.

Confused and a tad bit nervous I reached out and picked up my wand and book, the lights flickering to life as I waved my wand and looked at the book marked page.

Dear Maeve,

It's almost been three years now since the battle which we both lost Fred and you.

George misses Fred so much, he says I don't understand what it's like to lose my twin as you're still technically here, but I can't help but feel like you're both gone and here at the same time. George apologised as soon as he said it of course, he's still struggling to live without as I am with you, but at least we have one another to grieve, even if it's for different reasons.

Harry bought you your maid of honour dress... I told him he didn't have to as the doctors said you showed no signs of waking up anytime soon - or at all. He's been amazing, he's helped mum and dad rebuild the Burrow, we've even bought the land next to it and built a little house for ourselves, he was insistent that we build a one bedroom cottage for you too. He believes you'll wake up, he's even gotten along with Draco Malfoy as they've been organising physical therapy for you!

I invited Draco to our wedding, in not sure if he'll come as he has kept to himself mainly. I know everyone is still unsure about the Malfoy's, but for you I am hoping he comes.

I miss you. I really do. I know everyone says it gets easier but it doesn't. Everyday I am reminded that you aren't here with me. I have failed you, I should've been the one that's in a coma.

I also... I'll just say it. I hate you, I hate what you did, I can't help it I'm so sorry. I hate that I hate you, but I can't stop it. You shouldn't have pushed me out of the way. I should've paid more attention! I failed you! I was meant to look after you!

I'm sorry Maeve.

I'm so fucking sorry.

The diary felt like it was laced with Basilisk venom. I dropped it onto the bed, which then bounced and hit the floor with a loud 'thud'. Looking around the room I see touches of my family to it, a blanket and pillow on the chairs that mum had knitter, little gadgets and pictures from their life events, pictures of babies even! Pushing the blanket off of me I threw my legs over the side of the bed and dropped down.

My hands had to hold me up as my legs felt weak and jelly-like. I noticed a slightly open door next to the dress, which appeared to be a bathroom. Pushing against the furniture and walls I managed to enter the bathroom, only to come face to face with a mirror.

I stared back at myself. I knew it was me - Even though it looked like Great Grandma Rowanina, I had grown older and filled out more, the only thing that stayed the same was my height. Which is slightly annoying as that meant I was still the shortest Weasley.

My hands tugged on the paper thing hospital gown and I span the knobs on the wall to quickly shower in attempt to wash the sterile smell off of myself and to attempt to process what Ginny's diary entry had said.

Three years? I can't remember anything other than heading off into battle against Voldermort. I slower climb into the wide tub and let the shower water pour over me. I closed my eyes, my mind was blank as I scrambled for anything else, but I couldn't. I couldn't think of anything.

Ginny, she hates for me for something I can't even remember, Fred... Fred had...died... A sob clawed its way through me as I began crying. I'd never be able to say goodbye, or go to his funeral, I don't know who else is dead or who is alive. Who else is married? Who has children? How old am I? 19 years? Older? How long ago had Ginny written in the diary?

"Freddie..." I cried.

The water soon got cold. Heaving myself over the tub I stumbled to the only other clothing that looked like it'd fit me, the maid of honour dress. I pulled the soft fabric over my head and found plastic sealed slippers in the cupboard.

I walked out of the corridor and to the main lobby of the hospital before I waved my wand and appeared on the road that leads to the Burrow. Shuffling I slowly made my way home.

There was music in the distance, and many voices, slowly the rebuilt Burrow was in front of me and I stared into the lit up house. It was different, more structuraly sound, I suppose. The voices weren't coming from the house though, the more steps I took the more easier I found walking.

There was a large tent in the distance I hurried my way to it, suspension and nervous fear bubbling in my chest as I reached it.

"Attention, attention you lot! I have something to say!" I heard my dad's voice call out and everything went silent. "I just want to thank you all for coming tonight, I want to thank you all for being family and supporting us through thick and thin. Without you lot we wouldn't be where we are today!"

I reached the opening and looked inside. Dad stood in a suit, holding a glass of bubbling liquid in front of him.

"Harry, my dear lad, I want to thank you for everything you have done for my family. Even if you weren't marrying my daughter, you'd still be apart of this family and will always be our son. Everything you've done and everything you will do, no matter what we will always be proud of you. You will always have a place in the Burrow."

I took a few steps into the tent, watching my father and everyone else watch him. Everyone looked so different, yet the same all at the same time.

"Ginny, I am so proud of the young woman you have become today and I know that you will be amazingly career driven seeing as you have been offered your dream job, just this morning!"

I stared at Ginny, her hair was pinned beautifully up, she wore a beautiful white gown that could've been worn by a princess. My eyes spotted a familiar necklace around her neck though, one old and clashed with her outfit. My hand touched my neck, instantly realised she was wearing my locket on her wedding day, my eyes began to get wet as my dad continued.

"You are a exceptional and beautiful young lady now, and I can't help but see the little girl who would talk my ear off about how cute Harry Potter is!"

"Dad!" Ginny cut in, face going red as she looked at Harry in embarassment.

"I am excited to see what you will do next, I will missing having you lot around and I know both Fred and Maeve are watching you now. They're so proud of you. We all are. And before I start crying and Molly decides to pull me off of the podium, Cheers to the Potter's!"

"To the Potter's!"

"To Fred and Maeve!" Harry yelled, raising his glass after everyone had a drink if there's.

"To Fred and Maeve!"

Everyone yelled once more before taking a sip of their drinks. Dad finally looked away from Ginny and Harry and looked out to everyone who were happily chatting to everyone. His eyes landed on my instantly and he dropped his champagne glass.

"Good grief Arthur! Have you already met your limit?" Someone laughed nearby. Mum stood and quickly attempted to sponge up the spillage and glasses.

"Arthur what's got into you? Arthur?" Mum said as everyone continued to celebrate. "Arthur?"

"Dad?" Ginny said, standing to reach out and touch his arm. "What is it?" She turned and saw me. "May?"

An hush quickly fell over the tent as everyone turned to look at me, standing at the opening of the tent in a brides maid dress and hospital slippers.

"May?" Mum cried out and threw herself over the table - Which was somewhat terrifying as I've never seen her move so quickly. "May!" She cried out before crushing me into a hug. "Oh my god! You're here! It's really you!" She wept as I held onto her for dear life.

"Mum, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened-"

"May!" I felt dad hug me as well, both of my parents holding onto each other as they cried and held onto me for dear life. "You're okay!"

Before I knew it, it appeared everyone was surrounding us and holding onto each other. A see of red hair speckled with a few other colours.

Ginny gently pushed her way to in front of me, grabbing my cheeks and looking into my eyes. "It's really you..."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I say cheekily before she wrapped her arms around my neck and sobbed into my hair.

"I'm sorry! I am so sorry!"

"Gin, it's not your fault-"

"You pushed me out of the way of the killing curse May! You took it for me! How dare you!" She pulled back and hit my head.

"I'm sorry! I don't remember!"

She looked at me with a watery smile. "You made me worry, May... I was so scared that I lost you."

"That's what you get for being the older twin," I say while sticking my tongue out at her. "Look at you though?! You're absolutely gorgeous!" I yelled as I pulled back, staring at her as we continued to hold hands. "Gin... Do you still hate me?"

"Never," she pulled me into another hug. "I wrote those things because I was upset because I thought I lost you. Harry kept saying you'll come back though, you were never the one to break your promises after all."

My head snapped to Harry who stood amongst the Weasley's. "If you break her bloody heart mate, I'll make you regret it."

"Wouldn't count on it," he says while giving me a wink. "Not after you made me bald."

"Oh no! Harry, Draco went home after the ceremony!" Ginny gasped as she re-pulled back into her hug.

"George and Percy have already gone to drag him back, don't you worry," mum said as she looks at me. "I just, I can't believe your back dear." She kissed my cheek.

"I'm glad to be back, mum. Ginny, sorry for ruining your wedding-" I say as I realised I disrupted the celebration.

She smacked my shoulder. "Don't be, we made a promise, remember?"

I nod. "... Did you cut the cake yet though?" She rolled her eyes and laced her fingers with mine before dragging me over to the large table and pushed me onto the empty seat beside her.

"Back to the celebrations everyone!"

The wedding's celebration dial went from a 100 to 1,000. Alcohol was pouring quickly and frequently, everyone was rowdy and dancing like their favourite Quidditch team just won the World cup after a bad streak.

I sat quietly watching it all, feeling oddly tired and out of place. Ginny and Harry held each other close as they slow danced, ignoring everyone dancing like crazy people around them to the high tempo song that was playing.

"She visited you every day, May," mum said quietly as she sat down next to me, watching Harry.

"I feel like I've missed so much, mum."

"Your - Draco, he bought a journal so every visit you'd write something that has happened, so when you wake up you could read it and not miss anything."

A cold chill when down my spine. "I assume we won?" I asked nervously.

"We did," she mused.

"Thank god," I nodded and watched George walk over to us.

"He wasn't at the manor, the house elves said he left quickly and no one knows where he went."

"He'll turn up soon, I'll leave you two to talk."

George slowly took mums empty seat and we sat in silence. "Georgie, I'm sorry..."

"It's fine, I'm just glad you're okay," George said as he places a arm around my shoulder. "Hey, don't cry."

"I can't believe he's gone," I say as I my eyes began to well up again.

"I forgot that you probably just learner this," George said quietly as he pushed my head onto his neck. "Don't worry, I'll always be here for you May, I'll even do the old swap-a-roo if you ever need to talk to Fred."

I held onto him tightly. "I'm sorry that i-"

"If you apologise for being in a coma I swear to god I will make you bald just like we made Harry bald," George warned.

My hand pressed against my eyes as I attempted to force the tears to go away. "You're home now, that's all that matters," George says as he buried his head into my hair. I will never tell anyone that I felt his tears as they made their way to my skin. "Oh cheer up, May! We're at a wedding for god sake! Come on, dance with me!"

"You may need to drag me," I say as he pulls me to my feet.

"Just stand on my shoes, shortie, just like old times."

I laughed at George danced awkwardly as I stood on his shoes. "Molly! Maeve is gone!" I heard a desperate voice yell.

George stopped and we looked over at mum who grabbed ahold of a red faced Malfoy. "The hospital is on lockdown, they don't know where May is! Her wand is missing!"

"I know Draco, loo-"

"We need to begin a search party - I'll head to the ministry, you can stay here, I'll handle everything. I'll get her back-"

"Draco!" Mum reached up and grabbed his chin to force it on my direction. His eyes fell onto me, and I felt like I was hit my a train.

He's different. He's grown up. He wore a lovely dark grey suit and he appeared to be slightly wider and more toned than the last time we met. He also looks like he's grown too, the bastard.

He let go of up and suddenly I was picked off of George and into the arms of Draco.

"Oh my god, May, I can't believe you're okay."

"Draco? I'm sorry," I held onto him.

"I've missed you so much! I've visited every single day! I wrote day everything that's happened, I know it's a lot to take in but I thought you should-"

Impatiently I pulled on his tie and sealed his lips with mine before I pull back and rest my nose on his. "I missed you," he said as his eyes watered. "I missed you so much. I'm sorry we argued before the battle, I'm sorry I'm such a idiot, I love you May. Please forgive me."

"Always Draco, as long as you forgive me for being in a coma," I say while giving him a cheeky smile.

"Always!"

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Miss Weasley."

#harry potter #weasley #ginny weasley #ginny weasley x harry potter #ginny x harry #draco malfoy #draco x oc #wedding #cry #george weasley #fred weasley #one big happ family

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couchbrotato · 5 years

Text

Yesterday (November 15, 2018) around 8 a.m. I became the happiest I've been in quite a while. Before I can tell you why, I must tell you the long backstory. (There is a TL;DR)

Back in March of 2014 "AH" (my boyfriend) asked me out. We enjoyed 6 months of bliss. (Yes, we argued. No, we weren't in the honeymoon phase. And before you ask, his mom was and still is the cause of most of our arguments) Anyways.

On our 6 month anniversary he gave me a promise ring and (basically) promised to marry me some day; however, our cocoon of happiness was shattered 5 days later when his father committed suicide. He was never really close his dad, but it was hard to handle nonetheless. About 2 weeks later on October 12 he broke up with me over text because he could no longer feel anything and wanted space.

It took a lot of me spamming him, but a couple of days later he agreed to meet and at least talk it over. We got back together almost as soon as we were along because the 3 days of not being together were pure torture. I left the next week for 3 weeks on a trip I had been planning with my Grandma. His father's funeral happened after I got back and everything was great for the next few months as we talked through things and worked on our communication. Unfortunately for both of us, the spring, summer, and fall of 2015 and 2016 were very turbulent. This was because he started having anxiety attacks and, rarely, panic attacks. When this started happening, neither of us had any idea of how to act and react to them as it was new to us. Well, over time he developed a very inefficient reaction to his attacks. Here's how it went: I would ask him if he was ok (because I just thought he was upset) and I would continually ask until he responded. His response was typically out of anger/annoyance (I am pretty annoying). I would then be shocked at his behavior and we would end up fighting. The fighting had one main end result: breaking up.

He would break up with me and I would storm off (and cry myself to sleep). This would lead to him calling the next day in tears begging me to take him back, which I did. At some point, however, I had had enough. I told him I couldn't take him breaking up with me, especially so often, so I told he needed to get help or our next break up would be our last (stress is a trigger and we figured out that, when in the middle of an attack, he would instinctively push away the most removable stressor...which was me. We figured out the two other stressors: his mom and school).

He didn't get help at that time, but instead decided to internationalize it which caused it to morph into barely controlled rage. The pent-up rage he held was almost lethal to our relationship when combined with his stubbornness. This led to him telling me to ask a family member of mine to do something (in November 2016) and I had told him no because it made me uncomfortable. We went back and forth until he yelled, "FINE! I'LL ASK HER MYSELF WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT" to which I basically said "The hell you are!? 🤬" and I broke up with him on the spot.

Of course, it was awkward because I had told him a week before the we could carpool to a class we shared. So, when we went to go to class a couple days later, he just looked at me and started crying. He asked for another chance to prove himself to me. I told him, "Fine. This is your last chance. If we break up again, that's it. No more chances." (He agreed). I also told him he needed to talk to someone about his anxiety and anger. (He did go to someone and he can't afford to go right now, but is doing so much better)

I need to mention that a year ago (late fall 2017) he tried to set up a dinner with my parents by himself. My parents alerted me and I pretty much lost it because I was terrified of marriage.

Here we are, 2 years after our last break up, 4 years after our first break up and 4 & 1/2 years since we started this wild ride. We have been through so much and have both gone to hell and back many times in our relationship. The horrible times we have gone through have really helped me to better appreciate who he is now and how well he is doing compared to when we first started dating.

Now that you've read the brief version of the history of my boyfriend and mine's relationship, I can tell you what happened yesterday.

- - November 15, 2018 - -

- - - - - - 8:00 a.m. - - - - - -

I was spending the night at my boyfriend's so that we could leave early to do some out of town business. I had woke up to learn that he had slid into a ditch around 1/1:30 a.m. when he went to pick up his mom's boyfriend and he was stuck there for 2 hours before help arrived. That was enough to convince me not to leave town, but not him. He left to go get bags of sand for the back of his truck to help with traction.

I sat in the middle of his bed, my legs crossed, while I held my phone limply in my left hand. My thoughts ran everywhere. I started seeing our relationship from the beginning to now and kept replaying the sweet moments. What if he gets into a bad wreck? What if he gets stuck in a ditch again? What if he leaves and never comes back? The last thought was enough to make me jump up and start pacing from rising panic. I felt the need to see him and hold him grow the longer I waited for him to come back from his short trip to the store.

My mind leapt from thought to thought until it settled on one thought: proposing. At that moment it was rational and irrational. Rational due to a deep need of wanting to know that, even if something happened, he would want to spend the rest of his life with me. It was also an irrational thought. This is because we have, since September (2018), spoken in both very obvious-hint filled conversations as well as directly about me changing my mind, being ready to get married, and a good proposal date.

So, while I was out of state at a BTS concert, he sat my parents down and asked if they had his permission to ask for my hand. I knew the moment he did it because my parents texted me..🙄 lol ... Anyways, so here I am with the rationalization that something could happen and the other side saying you can totally wait until he proposes at college graduation on December 15.

Eventually my first thought won, but I didn't have a ring. Or did I? You see, about a year before "AH" and I started dating I had bought a (new) silver mans ring thinking I would give it to the guy I would marry. It just so happens that I had given it to him when he gave me my promise ring and it fit his finger perfectly. I just had to find it.

That last place I had seen it was his jewelry box, but I hadn't seen it in a couple of years. So I thoroughly searched his room from top to bottom for the jewelry box. After a bit I finally saw it sitting under an old boom box in the corner of his room. I picked up the heavy boom box and opened the jewelry box to find that the ring I was looking for was in the first ring slot.

I plucked the ring out of its spot, put everything back as it had been, then sat down with my thoughts once more. Are you sure you want to do this? What if it's embarrassing for him? What about his proposal? You're going to come off as impati-ohmygod. He's back! I hear him shut his truck off as well as enter the house as the front door loudly creaked and squealed in protest to moving in the winter air.

His thudding footsteps got louder until he turned the corner into his bedroom and stopped in front of me. I gave him a kiss and asked if he was absolutely sure that he wanted to drive out of town. He nodded and said, "Yes. It needs to get done and I can't let the weather stop me!" as he turned his back to me so he could set his jingling keys down.

Without a second of physical hesitation, I lowered myself silently onto my left knee. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod areyousureyoureallywanttodothis? Ohshitheisturningaround!!!! 😱 TOOLATE!!!!!!!! Looking up, he is completely in shock as a tinge of red sweeps across his cheeks. "AH," I start, "will you marry me?"

The shock melted from his face as overwhelming joy, disbelief, and slight embarrassment took over causing him to shake his head back and forth as he chuckled. Swish is the next sound filling both of our ears as I whip the ring out and hold it up in my right hand. He starts to laugh deeply as he says "Yes!" which is followed by him lifting up both of his shaking hands because, in all the excitement, he forgot which hand the ring went on.

My brain followed suit as I went to put it on his right hand thinking it was his left. Thankfully I stopped and thought for a moment before I put it on his left hand (the right one lol). We kissed for a moment and he said, "This would be a good time for a song," so I whipped out my handy dandy spotify app and pulled up our playlist. Picking our second song, I pushed play. We started swaying to the music (off beat might I add because he doesn't know how to dance) as the words "Saturday morning jumped out of bed-" [Rude by MAGIC!]

Afterwards we talked about me being impatient, but that I also wanted to see his proposal as well as wait to tell people until graduation. You see, I want to see his proposal and can't do it unless I don't wear the ring he got me until December 15th and, until then, we are secretly engaged. It seems weird, but we both agreed to it. We also agreed that I would start wearing my promise ring on my right hand's ring finger for the next month. He did let me see, and take pictures of, the engagement ring that he bought me. Here it is!

~ TL;DR - My boyfriend and I went though a lot to get to where we are. I proceeded to propose to him exactly a month before he was supposed to propose to me.

I'M SO EXCITED!!!!! 💍💍💍💍🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

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bloodandrosesarenofun · 5 years

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Landrymat - The Reincarnation Series

(After a long time out of commission I am back to writing! I thought I'd share the excerpt of the first chapter of my novel, inspired by the last two pictures I posted. Let me know your thoughts. <3

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@luna-evans-writes )

I feel the night air push at my hair and flannel as both stir up at it's touch. The clock on my cellphone says it's only four-thirty but the sun is already on it's way down for the night, early as every winter. It's taken a while for me to actually feel the winter. Strangely enough it's actually just starting to get warm in Jacksonville again but at the same time all of the typical winter shit is just starting to happen. People ringing bells for charity and lighting up random palm trees in an attempt to be festive, and complaining about seeing people's breathe as though breathing doesn't really happen till it's cold out.

The bus thankfully drops me off only maybe a two or three minute walk from my destination so I don't have to deal with it that much. The being outside. I hate this neighborhood, sort of. It's not like it's particularly bad, and I know I grew up better than my mum did, but it is still pretty ghetto and run down. The laundromat is not so cleverly named 'Landrymat' but the word looks cooler to me on the marquee so I chuckle at it, glowing like an old school neon sign in some Tumblr kid's bedroom. I feel my face warm up as I go up to the door, pausing as anxiety creeps it's way up the back of my neck. I doubt anyone'll know what they are, or even care what I'm washing, but I still feel that despite the logical side of my brain arguing against it.

'CLEANERS AND DRY CLEAN

WASHING MACHINES ONLY 50 CENTS PER LOAD

COME IN AND ASK ABOUT OUR SPECIALS'

I question what kind of specials a laundromat could possibly have but I suppose they mean deals on multiple loads? I glance at my backpack's strap and realize I'm not sure if I need to wash anything separate. The idea of asking up at the desk makes my heart go number than all the years of abuse so I decide to just go in and figure it out myself. "I'm only carrying somewhere over a hundred dollars worth of material in my bag, what's ruining a couple of them," I mutter.

Walking into the laundromat the first thing I see are all the washers and dryers so it takes me a secound to find the desk.

I hold my tongue about how stupid I think it is that it's in the back of the room (which it is about the size of a large master bedroom) as I walk up to the counter, I'd never been to a laundromat before and my anxious ass wants to eliminate as much risk of my looking stupid as I possibly can. "Hey," I try and lower my voice, standing straighter than I usually do. It's an effort given I've spent years training my voice to be high when I wanted something from people since mine was too low to be as quickly helped as the prissy tea kettle sounding girls, of course the years of manipulation would bite me eventually. I always hated that voice. "I need to wash, um, two loads of laundry."

"Do you need a dry clean?" Asks the burly desk lady, her hair braided back in a frizzy mess that said she probably didn't care much about work appearances and her tone suggesting she didn't really care about work. I shake my head 'no'. "Then pick a machine and just let me know if you need change."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks." I walk over to the wall that obviously has machines with wet clothes and soap tumbling in them and want to scream at the lack of signs. I survey the room, finding that there aren't really many people in here, thankfully. One woman sits on her phone in a waiting chair, charging it in the wall and speaking about as loudly about her divorce as it takes to let the whole entire room know her life story. A man strikes out with a red head a couple machines down from me, and an Asian lady who might be the manager talks with one of the employees apparently about the detergents. I pick a machine near the end and set my backpack down on a miscellaneous chair at the last machine. All of my binders are bundled up and shoved unceremoniously in the bag. I grab my wallet out and go to figuring out starting up the machine before I take them out, zipping back the backpack.

Living in a house where either your grandma or your father do all of your laundry (mostly because they insist) is feeling much less convenient as the feeling of intimidation from trying to figure out a new basic skill sets in. I stare blankly at the space beside the laundry machine, feeling fog set in, when the beep of the woman on the phone's laundry being done sets me off I jump, my heart thudding erratically in my chest. I don't know why I feel this way, and I can't find a rational way to deal with it. I try to do the breathing and focus thing but with nothing to focus on I panic, I dig my nails into the skin just under my wrist, grabbing my hoodie to try and hide it underneath as I claw at myself. It helps me. I feel dizzy but after a moment I'm back on the ground, almost like getting off something unstable for the first time in a while. My mind felt like it was still thinly veiled but I find myself able to lean against the washers. Shaking my head, I nod at my reflection, fixing my t shirt and going to figuring out the laundry. When I get it together, tossing everything from my backpack and quickly shutting it seems more discreet and I contemplate only doing one load just for the convenience of it, but I decide against it thinking about my lack of a job and money to replace for that. The machine turns on with a loud sound and I shut my eyes against it. Feeling physically sick I hastily take out my headphones again from where I've shoved them into my backpack's pocket and begin playing a song from Quietdrive, thinking the guitar and easily placed sexual lyrics will help me take my mind off my mental breakdown. The seats in the 'Landrymat' are cheap but they aren't as uncomfortable as I thought. I sit with my legs up weirdly crooked in the seat, looking around to see if anybody will care about it. The red haired girl from earlier is looking my way but her expression doesn't look irritated so I ignore it. The air is clean smelling, and the chemicals burn my nose, but it's all something to focus on as I zone out, inconsequentially digging my nails into my skin again, my hoodie wrapped inconsequentially around my hands like I was trying to bide off the cold. I feel alittle less stranded with the music blasting. It drowns out the other sounds. It takes a little while for my darks to be done, and I find myself way too intrigued by the fact you could never tell what the mass of black fabric is. It looks so inconsequential when it feels like if anybody saw it, knowing what it was, it would ruin my life.

I remove the clothes and set them in the dryer, taking a secound to pick the right cycles and having to google it to be sure, then put my lighter binders in for the same cycle. Feeling eyes on me, I turn and glance around the laundromat. The manager is nowhere to be seen and the employee is sweeping, the woman on her phone is talking to the man from earlier, and the red headed girl is staring at me. I turn to glance at the counter, and turn back to find her still watching.

I check my chest, making sure my shirt is on right and you can't see my binder through it or peeking over the top. I haven't said much since I got here and since I know my voice is the least passing thing about me I find it difficult to pinpoint what could be wrong with me. Is she really clocking me? Or trying to figure it out maybe? The girl doesn't seem deterred by the fact I've noticed her staring at me and I can't tell if I find that more unsettling. I get a strange vibe off her, almost like I've met her before, maybe a few times. My head tilts to the side as I study her. She has tan skin, and I can tell she doesn't use as much lightener as most Asian girls. Her face and eyes remind me of a wolf (and I'm not sure if that's crazy to say but) despite her not coming off as intimidating at all to me. Something about her's intriguing, and I find myself wanting to talk to her. She's dressed in all guys clothing, stuff you could probably find after a few minutes of digging through the small grungy punk section of Walmart or the closet of you dad's old teenage bedroom, but she wears it like a model on one of the magazines on the table. Her makeup is carefully done and her eyes are piercing as the stare into mine. "D-Do you need something?" I question, being conscious about my voice as I hear it waiver with nerves. I figure either she'll let me know where I know her from or maybe my saying something first will keep her from outing me, even if there aren't that many people in here. I don't think my heart can currently take being called out as trans* or gay.

Her eyes cut from mine to something behind my head and I turn around with an eyebrow raised in question. In the top right corner to the room is a little TV monitor playing the news on mute. Headlines role over the screen as they talk about the state of the world. I knew things have been bad, but the newscast for the day just seems to be 'The world is fucked pretty well' and I'm shocked at how little I've heard people talk about change despite even the holiday season's passing by. I turn back to find the girl grimacing at the screen. She looks down at me then shakes her head, "No. Nothing at all."

I make a face, closing the washing machine I hit start. She doesn't stare directly but I still catch her looking. "The world's pretty shit for just past the holidays isn't it?" Mentally, I kick myself for talking. If she chose to leave alone why wouldn't I let her?

She looks at me and nods slowly. "Yeah," she says, "Yeah it is. I don't think anyone gives a fuck." Her worlds hold a specific malice and she grits her teeth, looking back at the screen like she's thinking of someone specific. "Did you really think they would? Are you really into rights or something?" I realize that's a stupid question. "I mean, um, like activist work? Specifically."

She shrugs. "Yeah, no, but I guess you could say I work closely with someone-" she stops herself, "who has a pretty good hand in this business."

"You work for weather station?" I ask.

She smiles, shakes her head. "No. Don't worry about it, I'm probably just over reacting as always. Thinking people have more power than they have. Nobody was gonna pay attention to this," she gestures to the screen and crosses her arms, "anyway."

"Well maybe it'll blow over with at least as little damage to people as it can manage."

"Yeah, I doubt it." She goes up to a machine and pulls out her dry clothes, beginning to fold them for a wicker basket.

I look down at my phone, my mum's texted me and I groan inwardly as I text to let her know I'm okay. "What about you?" I hear the girl ask.

My eyebrows furrow. "What about me?"

"What do you care about?" She asks.

It's a strange question. What do I care about? "I guess the environment."

"You guess?" she pauses.

"I mean, yeah."

"That's not a lot of caring." She continues to fold her things into her basket without looking at me, reminding me of an old movie scene. "There's no passion in you guessing."

"I guess-" I stop, then shrug. "I don't care much about a lot of things right now." I admit. Something about the girl's demeanor changes, and I try but I can't read her expression. She seems weirdly different then and I try and find a time when I may've seen her like this. "That's a sad way to live. But I guess I get it."

I shrug awkwardly, shifting my weight on one foot. "I just can't find that passion I suppose."

"You know supposing is just guessing with a different style?"

"I'm surprised someone else does."

"Well. My advice. Find something worth fighting for. Fast." The jokingness fades from her eyes and she suddenly looks very serious, her tone almost a warning.

"Okay." I say. "I'll work on it."

"Good." She smiles, grabbing her basket and heading for the door. "I suppose I'm just not gonna get a name after that." I turn back to my wash and see there's still five minutes to wait for the dryer.

"It's Rosé." I hear a girl say. Turning around, I see the red head walking away without getting an answer from me. "Scorpious," I doubt she heard me.

When I'm done with my laundry I'm happy to fold my binders back into my backpack without incident. The laundromat is only a short walk and an even shorter bus ride from my house, but considering the fact that the next bus is an hour away I take my phone out and do the next best thing.

"Hey, George. You wanna get pizza with me? I'll pay if you drive."

#art #writeblr #my wips #the reincarnation series #wip #excerpts from my writing #stories #my characters #writing #lgbtq

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