#but I want to have faith that I’m like getting better and things will continue to get better

[bowiestarzzz]

God I genuinely don’t get why people hate Nightheart so much. Every reason they have is they’re actually just angry at the authors not at Nightheart lol. Like you’re allowed to hate whatever character u want but I just saw a comment saying the fandom should scalp every Nightheart fan alive and it’s like woah okay. Jesus he’s just a cat dude

[brokenmenswhore]

I need more stuff with poly!maraudersxreader spicy stuff🤭

i am but your humble servant 🙇‍♀️

mean | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, & sirius)

summary: the boys get jealous seeing you with a study partner, and you reap the consequences when you tell sirius he was being ‘mean’

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex, use of the word daddy twice

a/n: is my sirius favoritism showing too much or no

────── ☾ ──────

“I don’t think I’ll ever actually understand this class,” you said, the library study session beginning to take its toll.

“You’re getting it!” Evan encouraged, “we just need to work on it a little bit more.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, but I think after four hours, I either get it or I don’t,” you replied.

“I don’t mind the time,” Evan said, “especially when I get to spend it with you.”

Your three boyfriends could hear every single word exchanged between the two of you, being that they were seated only two tables away, and the second they heard Evan’s statement, Sirius jolted upwards from his chair.

“Sit down,” Remus instructed, “what are you gonna do? Kill him in the middle of our entire year?”

“Yeah, Remus, I just might,” Sirius responded, but still sat back down, eyes never leaving the two of you.

“You have to trust her, Sirius,” James scolded.

“It’s not her I don’t trust,” Sirius said, nostrils flaring in a rage.

Evan was sitting much closer to you than the boys were comfortable with, but they had to trust that you would shut him down if he overstepped.

“Yeah, this has at least been fun!” you told Evan, “but I think I’m a lost cause. This library is beginning to feel like an asylum.”

Evan shrugged, “I mean, we could change the scenery if that’s the problem. There’s usually not anyone in the fifth year potions classroom after the midday class. It would be quiet, and we could be alone and really focus.”

Evan shifted his chair even closer to you, placing an arm around the back of your chair, and leaning closer to you.

“That’s it, I’m gonna kill him,” Sirius said, standing up and reaching your table before Remus or James could keep him at bay.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sirius spat, hands on the table as he leaned in, standing across from you.

“Studying?” you replied as Evan backed off.

“Studying,” he mocked in a high tone, “tell him he better get the fuck away from you if he wants to continue breathing.”

“I’m right here, Black, if you have a problem, say it straight to me,” Evan retorted, standing up to meet Sirius’s eye level.

“Ok, Rosier,” Sirius cleared his throat, “I have a problem with you attempting to feel up my girlfriend and then get her alone. I also have a problem with the lack of bruising on your face.”

“Sirius!” you and Remus scolded in unison, the other two boys now next to Sirius, ready to pull him back if he decided to lunge.

“I didn’t do a single thing,” Evan protested, “but if you’re so insecure that you think studying means she’ll cheat on you, maybe she never really liked you in the first place. She could do better anyway.”

Sirius went to jump over the table, but Remus and James held onto one arm each, holding him back as Evan laughed.

“This is not worth it,” Evan told you, “I’ll see you around.”

“Evan, I’m sorry-“ you tried to say as he walked away, your attention turning to Sirius. You were angry with him for the way he was acting, but his fury far outweighed yours.

Remus and James dropped their grip on Sirius when he calmed down. Sirius glared daggers into you. “Just studying, eh?”

“We were just studying until you tried to attack him,” you retorted.

“Go to the dorm room now before I decide to make you feel sorry right here. We’ll meet you up there.”

“But I still-“

“Now.”

The rage in Sirius’ voice was not something to take lightly. When he was mad, making him angrier often ended badly. You retreated to the dorms, seated cross-legged on your bed with a textbook open as you waited for your boyfriends to arrive.

The door to the dorms swung open so hard that the door slammed open against the wall. All three of your partners entered the room, Sirius stomping straight over to you and wrapping a hand around your throat.

“Had a fun day toying with other boys, huh?” he asked.

“Sirius, please, I really was just trying to study,” you pleaded, eyes finding Remus and James and searching for help, “you guys should know that I would never do that to you.”

“I know, baby,” Sirius’ voice weakened, his anger breaking at your pleas, “I’m just mad someone else tried to take what’s mine.”

“I think he was trying to make us jealous, too,” Remus added, “and it worked.”

“Is that what the big issue is?” you asked for clarification, “you’re all jealous?”

“He got really close to you,” James responded, the candor in his voice hurting your heart.

“I’m yours,” you said, grabbing the wrist around your throat, “I’m all of yours, and yours only, you know that.”

“We know,” Sirius said, “I’m just so mad. I can’t calm down.”

“You need to release the energy, Sirius,” James said, “you’re never gonna get past this if you don’t.”

Sirius looked into your eyes, and you gave him a slight nod, signaling to him that he could use you to release the energy. He had a lot of pent up rage from the earlier incident that he needed to let out. He needed to remind you, and himself, that you were his.

Sirius crashed his lips onto yours, a hand still on your throat as he pushed you back against the headboard.

Remus threw the textbook in front of you onto the floor, pulling your legs from their position until they were out in front of you. He kissed up your thighs until he was under your skirt, kissing on top your underwear as you let out a small moan into Sirius’s mouth.

Remus moved your underwear to the side, immediately diving in between your folds with his tongue, causing you to gasp. Sirius pulled away from your mouth, allowing him to hear the noises you made. You whined as Remus shoved his tongue into your soaking wet hole, the intrusion catching you off guard.

“Shit, Remmy,” you whimpered.

“Gotta remind you who you belong to, dove,” James spoke, taking a seat on the bed next to you, “you remember?”

“I’m y-yours, shit, James, all yours,” you whined as Remus continued to fuck you with his tongue, your hand taking its place on his head, fingers entwined in his hair, holding him in place.

“No fair,” Sirius pouted, “why do you get to hear her moan your name when I’m the one who got mad in the first place?”

“Y-ou were mean,” you explained, breathing heavy, making talking difficult as ever, trying to give Sirius the reason you weren’t focusing your attention to him, despite your better judgement.

Remus heard you and immediately stopped his assault on your core. You tried to push his head back down in desperation, but he took your hands off of his head, pinning them to your sides.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Sirius questioned, tone low and dark.

“Nothing,” you answered, hoping they would let it go but knowing better.

“I was mean, huh? I don’t deserve to hear you moan my name then, is that it? You think you’re so big and powerful, punishing me because I was mean?” Sirius was growing angrier and angrier, his rage overtaking him again.

“I- I’m sorry,” you tried to backtrack.

“No, no, it’s too late for that now. If you think I don’t deserve to hear you, then I won’t do anything that constitutes a noise. You don’t want me, then so be it.”

“No, please, I do, I want you, please-“

“Tell it to James,” Sirius cut you off. He was mad at you for talking back to him, and mad about earlier, but he was strictly doing this to punish you. He knew you loved how he fucked you when he was mad, and he was threatening to deny you what you wanted.

“Jamesie, please, tell him that I w-“

“Uh uh,” James tutted, “you’re with me now, not Sirius. You don’t get to have him now.”

You pouted, tears threatening to spill as you looked up at James. He leaned over you, kissing your forehead before your lips, distracting you with his mouth before a hand lifted up your skirt and traveled beneath the waistband of your underwear, finding its home on your pearl.

James began to rub in circles, eliciting a moan in the kiss.

“Remus, I think you can go back now,” James spoke.

Remus kept your hands pinned at your sides but shifted downward, tongue reentering you as James rubbed you off, the feeling of two different men on your core driving you insane.

Sirius slumped down on a chair a few feet away, lighting a cigarette as he watched Remus and James overstimulate you as they held you down.

“Jamie, please,” you moaned.

“Please what, dove?” James asked, beginning to touch any part of your core he could, the pleasure becoming too much to handle.

“Please let me come,” you begged.

James looked at Remus, who made eye contact with him, but never left you alone. He shoved his tongue in and out of you, curling it upwards once inside, eyes focused on James as he waited for any signal to stop.

James, however, was always the nicest to you in the bedroom. Though he knew Sirius and Remus would usually stop now, he was making the call, and he hated denying you your pleasure, even if you were being punished.

He leaned in and kissed you, his touch quickening and hardening as Remus continued to taste as much of you as he could, causing your climax to hit you without warning. You squealed and moaned into James’s mouth, legs shaking as Remus licked up any remnants of your high before pulling away from you and standing up.

You attempted to catch your breath as Sirius took one last drag of his cigarette, extinguishing the flame and walking over to you, your cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to calm down.

“See, you didn’t need me, did you?” Sirius taunted.

“I-“

“Still don’t want me?”

You furiously shook your head no. “No, nonono, I want you, please, I need you,” you begged.

“Even though I’m so fucking mean?” he spat, intentionally working himself up to an angry place again.

“Yes, daddy, please,” you replied, using the name for him that you knew he couldn’t resist.

Sirius growled, tugging on his jeans and crawling over you, lightly kissing your neck before meeting your gaze.

“Beg for me,” he demanded.

Your heart was beating so hard it made your chest sore. “Please, daddy, I want you.”

“I think he’s earned hearing his name, sweetheart,” Remus spoke from beside you.

“Please, I need you so bad, Siri, I-“

The second you spoke his name, Sirius pushed your skirt up to your waist and your underwear to the side, inserting his entire length into you in one quick motion, a move he loved to use when he was punishing you for something. Though he had been inside of you plenty of times, he was too large to simply just start fucking you without a warm up, unless, that is, he was purposefully being mean.

You let out a high pitched moan at the intrusion, always forgetting just how deep his cock hits within you.

He then pulled almost his entire length out of you before slamming it back in, your body jolting upwards at the feeling of his hips snapping against yours. He started to fuck you, fast and hard, leaving no time for you to adjust to him or his size.

“Siri, fuck,” you moaned.

“That’s it,” he breathed, “you’re all mine. You fucking belong to me.”

All three boys were possessive of you, but knew you ‘belonged’ to all three of them, not just one. However, when Sirius was mad, the other boys didn’t matter. They knew he needed to feel like you were his and only his. All the boys needed that one-on-one intimacy at times, but Sirius craved it all the time, and sometimes Remus suspected that he really did wish you were all his.

“It’s too much, can’t- I c-“ you started to plead, but Sirius didn’t care, continuing his ruthless pace that nearly had your head slamming upwards into the headboard with each thrust.

“You can, and you will,” Sirius spoke, “you’re all fucking mine. I don’t even want anyone else near you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl so that everyone can hear who you belong to, understood?”

You nodded, taking a moment to process that you had to speak. “Yes, Siri.”

“Good girl,” he said, one of his hands grabbing your throat as he snapped his hips at an almost violent pace.

“Siri, please, I’m gonna c-“

“You know you’re supposed to wait until he comes,” Remus reminded you, “or else it just isn’t fair.”

“B- but- I-“

“No buts,” Remus said, running a thumb over your cheek to collect the tears that were now falling, “you wait until Siri is ready, and then you come with him. He deserves at least that much.”

Your walls were clenching around his cock, and you fought desperately not to come. You knew you were supposed to wait and come in unison with whoever was fucking you, but you were overstimulated, and Sirius’s possessiveness was hot.

“That’s right, baby, you gotta wait,” Sirius cooed, “my girl only comes when I say she can. You’re my girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Siri, I’m yours,” you responded, your hands grabbing desperately at his shoulders to steady yourself, “all yours.”

Sirius ran a hand over your body, scanning every inch of you as he fucked you. “All mine,” he whispered, almost more to himself than to you.

Sirius’s thrusts began to become erratic and sloppy, his high approaching as his clock twitched inside of you.

“You gonna come with me, love?” Sirius asked, and you whined in response, signaling that you were ready.

Sirius tightened his grip around your throat. “Come for me,” he commanded, “for me and only me.”

Your walls clenched around Sirius one last time as you came around him, one final “Sirius!” leaving your lips as you did.

The feeling of you coming around him caused Sirius to reach his high, his final few thrusts sharp and deep inside of you.

He took a moment to collect himself and catch his breath before pulling out of you.

“You remember who you belong to now?” James asked, sweetly repositioning your skirt over you to allow you modesty as you calmed down.

“Mhm,” you began to feel tired, “I’m all of yours.”

[moonstruckme]

And since you're such an angel, I would love some:

snow angels with doctor!remus

Thank you and please hydrate 💧

Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words

Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you. 

“Yeah.” 

“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom. 

“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have. 

He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?” 

“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm. 

“You should have called me, sweetheart.” 

“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.” 

Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it. 

“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling. 

Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up. 

“Remus,” you whine. 

He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.” 

You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry. 

“No.” 

You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?” 

“Yes, love. Relax.” 

Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger. 

“Ow—Rem!” 

“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.” 

“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader. 

“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?” 

You make your displeasure known through your silence. 

“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad. 

“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.” 

“Is that good?” 

“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way. 

He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?” 

“A little, yeah.” 

“Headache?” 

You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?” 

“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.” 

“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it. 

He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.” 

[real-batman-thinker]

I’m never going to forgive you guys for the way some of you characterize Clark, especially in superbat fics.

I understand that he is the man of steel and is humanities’ hope and all that. But he is also a man?

I am so tired of Superbat fics where Bruce is all fucked up while Clark is perfect and has no problems ever. Why can’t we write Clark as having a rich inner life or interior problems? Why are we conflating optimism or hopefulness as signifying lack of depth?

Especially because being hopeful is hard! These days what is there to feel hopeful about? When you are hopeful (and acting on that hope) you are fighting against the systems that tell you that hoping is futile, that you shouldn’t believe in the chance things can be better.

Our current world systems/power isn’t crazy about hope because hope is the faith that things can (and maybe even will) change. Whether actors know it or not, hope is at the root of making things better.

So no… being hopeful doesn’t mean you are non-humanand suddenly stop feeling all the shitty ways that humans feel, it deadass just means you are continuing to want for more.

And I think it’s particular crazy that shallow ‘always emotionally stable’ ‘little internal struggle’ portrayals Superman (which are in a good and genuine desire to stay true to his hopefulness) inadvertently imply that to be hopeful means having no inner life or being superficial.

This is how we get Snyder’s Superman bc people don’t think you can be hopeful and have depth. Especially because having problems/struggles and an internal life is what makes us human (and what makes characters engaging to interact with).

At best, this interpretation makes people feel like they cant be hopeful like him bc they struggle (untrue), and at worst it perpetuates the idea that hopefulness is associated with stupidity/naivety/“being an NPC”. (And guess what kinds of people and systems that thought process benefits 😐).

Let Superman be hopeful and let him struggle for it! He is the man of steel and the hardest thing he can do is to choose hope over and over again because that’s the point and that has ALWAYS been the point.

[bluelavendre]

"I'll always come back to u"

Idol Yoongi x reader

2012

You and Yoongi had been dating for a few years, ever since high school back in Daegu. Your relationship had turned long-distance when he left for Seoul to pursue his passion for music production. You always supported his dreams, cheering him on whenever he felt like the world was against him.

One evening, during a late-night phone call, you could hear the frustration weighing down his voice.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Yoongi admitted, sounding defeated. “Is this path even meant for me?”

Your heart ached hearing him like that, but you knew how much music meant to him. Taking a deep breath, you replied gently, “Gi-ah, I know the path you’re choosing is hard, but if you really love what you’re doing, have a little faith. Sometimes it takes a long process to get where you want to be, but I promise you, it’ll be worth it in the future. I believe in you, Yoongi.”

On the other end of the line, Yoongi felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. You were his comfort person—the one he wanted to come home to at the end of the day. No matter how tough things got, your words always made him feel better.

At that time, Yoongi was working as a producer at BigHit, a small company just starting to make its mark. He had been writing songs for various K-pop groups, but nothing ever seemed to match the success of artists from bigger companies. Doubt often crept into his mind, but your unwavering support kept him grounded.

One day, something unexpected happened. BigHit offered him a contract—not just as a producer, but as an idol trainee alongside six other guys: Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook. At first, he was hesitant, unsure if this new path was meant for him. Then he remembered your words:

“Grab opportunities.”

With that thought in mind, he signed the contract, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead—because he knew you’d be right there supporting him, no matter what.

A few months after Yoongi signed the contract, you received some life-changing news of your own—you had been accepted into a college in Seoul. It was everything you had ever dreamed of, a step closer to becoming a professor one day. Your hands trembled with excitement as you dialed Yoongi’s number, unable to contain your joy.

The phone rang a few times before he picked up, sounding a bit breathless. “Hey, babe. What’s up?”

“You won’t believe it!” you squealed. “I got accepted into college in Seoul!”

There was a beat of silence, and then Yoongi let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Are you serious? That’s amazing! I knew you could do it.”

Tears pricked at your eyes from how proud he sounded. “Thank you, Yoongi. I can’t believe it’s really happening.”

He chuckled warmly. “You’re gonna be the smartest professor one day. I’m so proud of you.”

Your heart swelled with happiness. “I’m proud of you too. I heard you’ve been working nonstop. Make sure you take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone softening. “I’ll make sure to rest. You’re gonna be in Seoul soon… I can’t wait to see you.”

Even after you moved to Seoul, the two of you continued to respect each other’s time and space. Both of you were working hard toward your dreams—Yoongi training tirelessly with his group and you diving into your college life. Yet, even in the same city, meeting up wasn’t always easy.

But Yoongi always found a way. One evening, after his long and exhausting practice, he showed up at your apartment, still in his training clothes, hair slightly messy and eyes tired but bright with affection.

You opened the door, surprised. “Yoongi?”

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Hey. Missed you.”

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You melted into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat pounding against yours.

“You should be resting,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair.

“I’m resting now,” he whispered, holding you even tighter. “Being with you is the best rest I can get.”

You chuckled softly, guiding him inside and making him sit on the couch. “Wait here. I’ll get you something to drink.”

As you prepared tea in the small kitchen, he leaned against the counter, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You know, I still can’t believe I get to see you in person now,” he said.

You smiled over your shoulder. “Neither can I. Feels surreal sometimes.”

He smirked. “It’s funny… I keep thinking about how I want to hold your hand every chance I get. And how I just want to hear your voice, even if it’s just you complaining about school.”

You laughed, setting the tea down on the table. “You’re so cheesy today.”

He shrugged, pulling you down to sit beside him. “You make me like this. Can’t help it.”

He took your hand, intertwining your fingers, and rested his head on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell between you two as you sipped tea together, sharing quiet moments of peace.

Even after his debut with BTS, Yoongi made it a habit to visit you whenever he had free time—sometimes surprising you after practice, other times just showing up when he missed you too much. No matter how hectic his schedule got, he never stopped making time for you.

One night, after another successful concert, he knocked on your door, a tired smile on his face. You let him in, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his forehead against yours.

“You did amazing today,” you whispered, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

Yoongi grinned. “You saw?”

You nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He kissed your forehead softly. “I’m glad you’re here. You always make me feel like I’m home.”

2016

Years passed, and life kept moving forward. BTS slowly but steadily climbed their way up the charts, gaining recognition and building a loyal fanbase. Their hard work and passion were finally paying off, and Yoongi couldn’t have been prouder of how far they’d come.

Meanwhile, you were thriving in your own journey. Four years of hard work, sleepless nights, and countless exams had earned you the prestigious title of Dean’s Lister every year. Your dedication to your studies never wavered, even when juggling part-time jobs to support yourself. Whenever you received your academic awards, Yoongi was always the first person you called, his proud voice making you feel like all your efforts were worth it.

“I knew you’d do it,” he would say with a wide smile through the phone. “You never fail to amaze me.”

“And I knew you’d make it big,” you’d reply, hearing the excitement in his voice every time BTS achieved a new milestone.

As BTS’s fame grew, so did Yoongi’s income. He never hesitated to spend a portion of it on you, despite your protests. From cute stuffed animals to expensive accessories, he’d often surprise you with gifts, each one reminding you of him when he was away.

One evening, a package arrived at your apartment, and you nearly choked when you saw the designer label on the box. Inside was a beautiful bracelet—simple yet elegant, with tiny musical note charms. You quickly dialed his number, knowing he’d just finished practice.

When he picked up, you couldn’t hold back. “Yoongi! Did you seriously buy me this? This must have cost a fortune!”

He chuckled softly. “You like it?”

“Of course I do, but you didn’t have to spend so much!”

“You work hard, and you deserve nice things,” he replied, his tone gentle but firm. “And it’s not like I can take you on proper dates right now. Let me spoil you a little, okay?”

Despite your hesitations, you couldn’t help but smile, twirling the bracelet around your wrist. “You’re too much sometimes.”

“I know,” he teased. “But you love me for it.”

Little did you know, Yoongi’s generosity hadn’t gone unnoticed. One day, his manager called him into the office, his expression serious. As Yoongi sat down, he could sense something was off.

“We need to talk about your relationship,” his manager said, his tone professional but firm.

Yoongi tensed, a slight frown appearing on his face. “What about it?”

The manager sighed. “We’ve noticed you’ve been spending quite a bit on your girlfriend. Fans are becoming more curious, and it’s starting to draw attention. The company thinks it might be best if you... end things with her.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. “What? Why?”

“BTS is just starting to gain momentum, and any hint of a relationship could ruin our image. You know how the industry works. We can’t afford a scandal right now.”

Yoongi felt his heart drop, anger and frustration welling up inside him. He knew the reality of the industry, but the thought of losing you—of being forced to break up with you—made his chest tighten painfully.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and unwavering. “I’m not breaking up with her.”

The manager looked at him with a mixture of surprise and disapproval. “Yoongi—”

“I’ve worked too hard to give up on my dreams, and I’m not giving up on her either,” Yoongi interrupted, his tone firm. “She’s been with me since the beginning. She supported me when no one else did. I’m not letting go of the one person who believed in me when I didn’t even believe in myself.”

His manager sighed, rubbing his temples. “Just... be careful. Don’t let it become a distraction. And try to keep it low-key.”

Yoongi nodded, his jaw still tense. “I understand.”

That night, he called you, trying to sound as normal as possible, but you could sense something was wrong.

“Yoongi? Are you okay?” you asked softly.

There was a long pause before he replied, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. “Yeah... I just needed to hear your voice.”

You smiled gently. “You’re working too hard again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he murmured, a hint of a smile in his voice. “But it’s worth it.”

The pressure from the company never eased up. Even though Yoongi kept standing his ground, it became harder to ignore the tension building up around him. Managers constantly warned him to be more discreet, and some staff members avoided bringing up his personal life altogether. He knew they were just trying to protect the group’s image, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

But nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

One morning, Yoongi woke up to his phone buzzing nonstop. Notifications flooded his screen—messages from his members, his manager, and dozens of missed calls. Confused, he rubbed his eyes and opened one of the messages from Namjoon.

Namjoon [6:23 AM]: Hyung, don’t look at Twitter. Stay off social media. Call me when you wake up.

His heart dropped, and despite Namjoon’s warning, he couldn’t resist checking. As soon as he opened the app, he saw his name trending along with phrases like “Yoongi’s Secret Girlfriend” and “BTS Scandal.” Clicking on the hashtag, his blood ran cold as he saw pictures of you—leaving your apartment, wearing the bracelet he bought you, even some blurry photos of him entering your place late at night. The media had found out.

Panic set in as he dialed your number, his hands trembling. You picked up almost immediately, your voice shaky.

“Yoongi?”

“Baby,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “Are you okay? Did anyone—”

You took a deep breath. “There are people outside my apartment. Reporters. And some... fans.”

Yoongi cursed under his breath. “Don’t go outside. Lock your doors and windows. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Yoongi, no,” you interrupted, your voice cracking. “You can’t come here. It’ll just make things worse.”

He bit his lip, fighting back the helplessness washing over him. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving you alone to deal with this.”

Just then, there was a loud bang on your door, followed by muffled shouts from outside. Your breath hitched. “They’re getting louder... I’m scared.”

Something in him snapped. “I’m coming. Just stay put, okay? I’ll handle it.”

Before he could hang up, you stopped him. “Yoongi, wait!”

He paused, his heart pounding. “What is it?”

You hesitated, choking on your words. “Maybe... maybe we should listen to them.”

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi asked, his voice strained.

Your eyes filled with tears as you forced the words out. “Maybe we should break up.”

Silence.

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, and he shook his head as if you could see him. “No. I’m not losing you because of this. We can figure it out—”

“Yoongi,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Look at what’s happening. Your career... everything you’ve worked so hard for... it’s falling apart because of me.”

“That’s not true!” he snapped, frustration and fear mixing in his tone. “You’ve done nothing wrong. They’re just being irrational. I won’t let them take you away from me.”

A sob escaped your lips, and you wiped your tears, trying to be strong. “I don’t want to be the reason you lose everything. You’ve worked so hard to get here. I can’t be the one who ruins it.”

He was silent for a moment, breathing heavily as he tried to process your words. “I don’t care about any of that,” he finally whispered. “You’re more important to me.”

You smiled bitterly, your heart breaking. “But it’s not just about you and me anymore. It’s about BTS too... and I know you love them. I know how much you’ve sacrificed for this dream. I can’t let you throw it away because of me.”

Yoongi gritted his teeth, fighting back tears. “So what are you saying? You want me to just... let you go?”

You hesitated before whispering, “It’s for the best.”

He didn’t respond right away, his mind racing as he tried to find a way to convince you otherwise. But deep down, he knew you were right. The backlash wouldn’t stop, and the hate directed at you was something he couldn’t bear.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he finally spoke, his voice trembling. “Fine... but promise me something.”

“What is it?”

He swallowed hard, his heart aching as he forced himself to say the words. “Wait for me. No matter how long it takes, I’ll always come back to you. Just... wait for me.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I will. I’ll wait for you, Yoongi.”

Neither of you spoke for a while, both lost in the pain of goodbye. Finally, he whispered one last thing before hanging up.

“I love you.”

And just like that, the call ended, leaving you alone with the ache in your chest and the shattered pieces of your heart.

A Few Weeks Later

Since the public found out about your relationship and Yoongi had to deny it, the two of you kept your distance, just as you both agreed. You changed your phone number and deactivated your social media accounts to avoid the relentless hate and messages from fans. It hurt, but you knew it was necessary.

Yoongi did his best to focus on work, throwing himself into producing and writing, but his heart wasn’t in it. The members noticed the change in him—how he seemed quieter and more distant, his eyes constantly tired and empty. One evening after practice, while sitting on the floor of the dance studio, Namjoon finally spoke up.

“Hyung, are you okay?” he asked gently, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Yoongi didn’t respond right away, staring blankly at the floor. The other members exchanged glances, worried.

Jin cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately. Are you eating properly?”

Yoongi forced a small smile. “Yeah. Just... tired.”

Hoseok scooted closer and gave him a gentle nudge. “Come on, hyung. You know you can talk to us.”

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi hesitated before finally admitting, “It’s harder than I thought.”

“What is?” Jungkook asked, tilting his head curiously.

Yoongi clenched his jaw, trying to keep his emotions in check. “Pretending like it doesn’t hurt. Denying the one person who’s been by my side since the beginning... it feels like I betrayed her.”

The room fell silent, and Jimin lowered his gaze, understanding the pain Yoongi was feeling. Taehyung reached out and patted Yoongi’s shoulder gently.

“I’m sure she knows you did it to protect her,” Taehyung said softly.

Yoongi let out a bitter chuckle. “I’m not even sure of that myself. I keep replaying her voice in my head... how she tried so hard to be strong while breaking up with me. I thought keeping our distance would make it easier, but it just hurts more.”

Namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Hyung... I know how much she means to you. But you made the choice to protect her from the hate. It’s not your fault.”

Yoongi shook his head, his hands trembling. “I feel like a coward. I promised her I’d always come back... but what if she stops waiting?”

Jungkook bit his lip, hesitant to speak but feeling compelled to comfort him. “If she loves you as much as you love her, she’ll wait, hyung. Love like that doesn’t just disappear.”

Jin nodded in agreement. “We know you’re hurting, and I’m sure she is too. But this will get easier with time. You just have to keep pushing forward.”

Hoseok forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Plus, we’re here, too. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Yoongi looked around at his members—his brothers—grateful for their support. Even if the pain didn’t go away, knowing they were there made it a little easier to bear.

The days continued to pass, and Yoongi kept his promise to focus on BTS. He poured his heart into writing lyrics, his songs often reflecting the ache and longing he kept bottled up. Late at night, when everyone else was asleep, he’d sit by the window, phone in hand, staring at your contact name on his screen.

He wanted to call you—just to hear your voice or know if you were okay—but he held back, respecting the distance you both agreed on. Still, he couldn’t help but write texts he’d never send:

“Did you eat today?”

“I miss you.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to protect you.”

One evening, as BTS sat in the dorm living room watching a music show, one of the rookie groups performed a song that Yoongi had helped produce. The familiar melody made his chest tighten, and he couldn’t help but think of how proud you’d be if you heard it.

Jimin noticed Yoongi’s faraway look and nudged him. “Hyung, your song is doing well. You should be proud.”

Yoongi forced a nod, but his mind was elsewhere. “Yeah... it’s doing well.”

Namjoon glanced at him knowingly and spoke up. “You’re not planning to give up on her, right?”

Yoongi’s eyes flickered with determination. “No. I meant it when I said I’d come back to her. I just... need to get through this storm first.”

Taehyung grinned softly, his boxy smile comforting. “Then keep that promise. She’ll be waiting.”

Jungkook chimed in, trying to sound hopeful. “And when you’re both ready, it’ll be worth it, right?”

Yoongi gave a faint smile. “Yeah... it will be.”

As the night dragged on, Yoongi found himself back at his writing desk, scribbling down lyrics that spoke of longing, loss, and the unwavering hope of returning to the person he loved. His heart ached, but he knew that someday, when the chaos settled and his dreams became reality, he would come back to you—just like he promised.

And until that day came, he would keep working hard, knowing that somewhere out there, you were holding on to that promise too.

Four Years Later

Time flew by faster than you could have imagined. The pain of letting Yoongi go never truly disappeared, but you had learned to live with it. You threw yourself into your studies, determined to make something of yourself despite the heartbreak.

Graduating at the top of your class, you earned your degree with honors, and it was the proudest moment of your life. You remembered how Yoongi used to tell you how smart and hardworking you were, and a small smile crept onto your face as you accepted your diploma. You wished he could see you now—see how far you’d come.

After graduation, you didn’t stop there. You pursued your master's degree, specializing in educational leadership and curriculum development. You spent countless sleepless nights buried in research papers, lesson plans, and academic journals. Your passion for teaching burned brighter than ever, and the dream of becoming a professor stayed alive in your heart.

During your master's program, you took up a part-time teaching position at a local university in Seoul. It was nerve-wracking at first—standing in front of a class full of eager minds, trying to inspire them the way your own mentors once inspired you. But with each lesson, your confidence grew. Your students admired your dedication and passion, and seeing them learn gave you a sense of purpose.

One evening after class, your colleague Mina approached you.

"You did great today, Y/N. The students love your teaching style," she said with a warm smile.

You chuckled softly, rubbing your neck. "Thanks, Mina. I still get nervous sometimes."

"You’d never know," Mina replied. "By the way, have you thought about applying for that international teaching program? I heard they’re looking for innovative educators, and you’d be perfect for it."

You raised your eyebrows, intrigued. "International teaching? Where?"

"The United States. They’re offering positions for professors who specialize in modern teaching strategies and curriculum development. Plus, it’s an incredible opportunity for growth and exposure."

The idea stirred something in you—ambition, curiosity, and a desire to prove yourself on a global scale. Could you really do it? Could you leave Seoul and pursue your dreams halfway across the world?

That night, you stayed up researching the program. You read testimonials from previous applicants and saw how their careers flourished after being accepted. It was an intimidating thought—leaving behind the familiarity of your city and starting fresh in a new country—but something about it felt right.

Finally, with a deep breath, you submitted your application, pouring your heart into your cover letter and highlighting your dedication to education. You didn’t expect much—competition was fierce, and the thought of being chosen felt almost impossible.

But fate had a way of surprising you.

A few months later, you received an email from the international program. Your hands shook as you opened it, scanning the words with bated breath.

"Dear Ms. Y/N,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for the International Teaching Fellowship has been approved. Congratulations on being selected as one of our newest professors! Please review the attached documents for further details and next steps."

Your jaw dropped as you reread the message over and over. Tears filled your eyes as the reality set in—you did it. You had achieved your dream of becoming an international professor.

You immediately called Mina, who squealed with excitement on the other end. "I knew you could do it! This is huge, Y/N! You’re going to be amazing!"

Packing your life into a few suitcases wasn’t easy, but you knew this was your chance to grow. Before leaving, you visited your favorite spots in Seoul one last time—the cozy coffee shop where you used to study, the park where you’d stroll to clear your mind, and even the little restaurant where you and Yoongi would share meals on his rare free days.

Memories flooded your mind, but you pushed them away, focusing on the bright future ahead.

"Goodbye, Seoul," you whispered as you boarded the plane, determination sparking in your eyes.

The transition wasn’t easy. You struggled to adapt to the culture, the food, and even the accents. Some nights were lonely, and you found yourself scrolling through old photos and reading the letters you wrote to yourself for motivation.

But slowly, you adjusted. Your students were bright and curious, eager to learn from your experiences and methods. You found yourself immersed in academic conferences, workshops, and mentoring programs. Your innovative approach to curriculum development earned you respect among your colleagues, and soon enough, you were invited to give lectures at different universities.

One evening after a successful seminar, you sat in your office grading papers when your phone buzzed with a notification. Curious, you checked it and saw an article headline:

"BTS Makes History as the First Korean Group to Sell Out Multiple Stadium Tours Worldwide!"

Your heart clenched at the sight of Yoongi’s face on the thumbnail, his gaze as intense as ever. He looked different—more mature, confident, and a bit more worn out. Pride swelled in your chest despite the pang of sadness that followed.

"You did it," you whispered, running your fingers over his photo on the screen. "I knew you would."

You turned off your phone and leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling. The thought of him still lingered in your mind, but you reminded yourself that you both had dreams to chase. You had come this far, and there was no turning back now.

One night after class, as you were tidying up your materials, one of your students approached you.

"Professor Y/N, your lecture today was really inspiring," she said with a bright smile. "You always talk about chasing dreams no matter how hard it gets. Have you ever done that yourself?"

You hesitated, memories of your journey flashing through your mind. A soft smile graced your lips. "Yes. I have. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done... but it was worth it."

The student beamed. "I hope I can be as brave as you someday."

You nodded, your heart warm with pride. "You already are. Just keep pushing forward."

As you walked back to your empty apartment that night, you couldn’t help but wonder if Yoongi ever thought of you—if he remembered the promise he made. Maybe someday your paths would cross again. Until then, you’d keep building your future, one dream at a time.

A Year After Your Departure

Yoongi found himself stuck in a never-ending cycle of rehearsals, recordings, and interviews. BTS’s fame had skyrocketed beyond imagination, and he was grateful—truly grateful. Yet, despite the worldwide success and the overwhelming love from fans, he felt emptier than ever.

He tried his best to focus on producing songs and writing lyrics, but every melody seemed to remind him of you—your laughter, your encouragement, your unwavering support during his most vulnerable moments. The studio, once his safe haven, now felt suffocating, filled with memories of late-night phone calls and words of comfort you used to offer.

He couldn’t help but wonder where you were, how you were doing, and if you had moved on. He hated himself for letting you go, for denying what you two had, and for pretending that he didn’t care.

One evening after a long practice session, Yoongi sat on the studio couch, his head resting against the wall as he fiddled with his phone. Absentmindedly, he scrolled through social media, searching for any trace of you. He had tried countless times before, typing your name into search engines and browsing through mutual friends’ profiles, but he always came up empty-handed.

"Yoongi-hyung," Jungkook called out as he poked his head into the studio. "You okay? You’ve been in here for hours."

Yoongi let out a tired sigh. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... trying to find someone."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow and stepped inside, curiosity evident on his face. "Someone? Who?"

Yoongi hesitated, not wanting to open old wounds, but he couldn’t deny the ache in his chest. "Y/N. I just... I don’t know where she went. She’s not in Seoul anymore."

Jungkook’s expression softened. "You really miss her, huh?"

Yoongi didn’t answer, just clenched his phone tighter.

Jungkook smiled gently. "If it’s meant to be, you’ll find her again. Just trust that."

Just then, the door burst open, and Jimin came rushing in, nearly tripping over his own feet. His phone was clutched tightly in his hand, and his face was flushed with excitement.

"Hyung!" he practically shouted. "You’re not going to believe this!"

Yoongi and Jungkook exchanged confused glances. "What’s with you?" Yoongi grumbled, though he couldn’t hide his curiosity.

Jimin shoved his phone in Yoongi’s face, pointing at the screen. "Look! Look at this post!"

Yoongi squinted at the screen and saw an Instagram post from Jimin’s younger brother, Park Jaehyun. The caption read:

"Huge thanks to Professor Y/N for guiding us through this tough semester! We learned so much from you. Your passion for teaching inspires us every day. #Grateful #BestProfessorEver"

Beneath the caption was a photo of you standing at the front of a classroom, wearing a crisp blouse and slacks, a bright, encouraging smile on your face. You looked more mature, more confident—like you had truly become the person you always wanted to be.

Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at the screen, his fingers trembling. "That’s... her," he whispered.

Jimin grinned. "Jaehyun texted me earlier about how he loves his new professor. When he showed me the post, I couldn’t believe it. Hyung, Y/N is teaching at a university in the States!"

Yoongi swallowed hard, his mind reeling. "She... went to America?"

Jimin nodded. "Apparently. Jaehyun said she’s one of the most sought-after professors there. She’s been hosting international seminars and lectures too."

Yoongi couldn’t help but feel a mix of pride and regret. You had made it—chasing your dreams just as you promised. While he had been drowning in guilt and loneliness, you had been thriving on the other side of the world.

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, his expression softening. "Hyung, maybe this is your chance. If you miss her that much, reach out. Let her know you’re proud of her."

Yoongi hesitated, his mind spinning with possibilities. Would you even want to hear from him after all these years? Would you still think of him the way he thought of you?

"What are you gonna do?" Jimin asked cautiously, sensing Yoongi’s turmoil.

Yoongi took a deep breath and lowered his gaze. "I don’t know. I want to see her. I need to talk to her. But... I don’t know if she’d even want that."

Jimin smiled softly, patting his shoulder. "One way to find out. You always said you’d come back to her, right? Maybe now’s the time."

Yoongi knew he was right. He had made a promise to you once—a promise to always come back. Maybe it was time to fulfill that promise.

Late that night, while the other members were asleep, Yoongi sat at his desk, staring at your picture on Jimin’s phone. His heart thumped in his chest, and he gathered his courage to send a message to Jaehyun, asking for your contact information. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but he couldn’t let this chance slip away.

For the first time in years, he felt a spark of hope. Maybe—just maybe—he could find his way back to you.

Yoongi’s mind was spinning with thoughts of you. After finding out where you were, he couldn’t help but feel restless. The thought of finally seeing you after so many years brought a sense of excitement, but it also made his stomach churn with anxiety. Would you still want to see him? Would you even want to talk to him after all that happened?

That night, Yoongi lay on his bed, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. Sleep refused to come as memories of you filled his mind—your laughter, your encouraging words, the way you used to tell him to keep going no matter what. He missed you more than he could ever put into words.

The next morning, without telling the other members, he squeezed in some free time in his schedule and booked a flight to the States. He knew it was reckless, but he didn’t care. He needed to see you, to hear your voice, even if it was just from a distance.

He was on his way to the airport when Jimin appeared out of nowhere, pulling his suitcase behind him. Yoongi stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Yoongi asked, his tone harsher than intended.

Jimin grinned, completely unfazed. "You didn’t think you’d go alone, did you? I’m coming too. Besides, I want to see my brother. It’s been a while."

Yoongi opened his mouth to argue, but he knew it was pointless. Jimin could be annoyingly persistent when he wanted to be.

"Fine," Yoongi mumbled, pulling his cap down to hide his face. "Just... don’t make a fuss."

Jimin snorted. "Like I would. Besides, it’s not every day I get to see you all worked up over a girl. It’s cute."

Yoongi shot him a glare, but Jimin just laughed, following him through the check-in and boarding process.

The flight was long and filled with silence, save for the occasional hum of the airplane engine. Jimin sat next to Yoongi, occasionally glancing at his friend’s tense posture.

"You nervous?" Jimin asked softly.

Yoongi didn’t answer right away. He stared out the window, watching the clouds drift by.

"Yeah," he finally admitted. "I don’t know what I’ll do if... she doesn’t want to see me."

Jimin smiled gently, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You’ll be fine, hyung. She’s not the type to hold grudges. She loved you. I’m sure she still does."

Yoongi didn’t respond, but he hoped Jimin was right.

After landing in California, the two made their way to a small hotel near the university where Jaehyun had mentioned your upcoming seminar would be held. As they checked in, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his hands trembling.

Jimin noticed and nudged him. "Hey, relax. It’s gonna be okay."

Yoongi just nodded, but the knot in his stomach wouldn’t go away.

Later that evening, Jimin video-called his brother, and Jaehyun picked up almost immediately, his face lighting up with surprise.

"Hyung? You’re here?!" Jaehyun exclaimed, clearly not expecting a call from his older brother.

"Yeah," Jimin replied with a grin. "I’m here with Yoongi-hyung. We just arrived."

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. "With... Yoongi-hyung? Wait, why—"

"Long story," Jimin cut in, giving his brother a look. "Where’s the seminar happening?"

Jaehyun thought for a moment before replying, "It’s at Stanford University tomorrow morning. Professor Y/N is giving a guest lecture in the humanities department. It’s a pretty big deal. She’s been doing seminars all over the States."

Yoongi’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name. You really had made it big, just as he always knew you would.

"Got it," Jimin said with a nod. "We’ll head there tomorrow. Don’t tell anyone, okay?"

Jaehyun grinned. "I won’t. Good luck, hyung. I’m rooting for you."

After hanging up, Yoongi leaned back against the wall, letting out a shaky breath.

"She really made it," he whispered, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Jimin patted his shoulder. "She did. And you’re here now, hyung. Go get her back."

That night, Yoongi barely slept. His mind kept replaying the moment he would see you again—how your eyes might widen in shock or how you might even turn away, hurt and betrayed. He didn’t know if he was ready for the worst, but he had to try.

The next morning, Yoongi and Jimin dressed inconspicuously and made their way to Stanford. The campus was bustling with students, and the two idols did their best to stay low-key, despite a few curious glances.

They eventually found the humanities building, where a large poster announced your seminar titled "The Power of Education: Cultivating Future Leaders." Yoongi’s lips curved into a small smile. It sounded just like you—passionate and driven.

As they approached the lecture hall, they noticed a long line of students waiting to get in. Yoongi’s heart pounded harder with each step, and Jimin gave him an encouraging nod.

"Let’s sneak in from the back," Jimin suggested, guiding Yoongi around to a side entrance.

They slipped into the hall, taking seats near the back where they wouldn’t be easily noticed. The room was filled to the brim with eager students, their excitement buzzing in the air.

When you finally walked onto the stage, Yoongi’s breath hitched. You looked so confident—composed and radiant, wearing a sleek blazer and professional attire. Your hair was styled neatly, and your expression was both serious and approachable. The way you greeted the students with a warm smile made Yoongi’s heart ache with longing.

"Good morning, everyone," you greeted. "Thank you for coming to today’s seminar. I’m honored to share my insights and experiences with you all."

Yoongi couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He hadn’t seen you in years, but his feelings hadn’t changed one bit. If anything, they’d only grown stronger.

Jimin nudged him gently. "Hyung... she’s amazing."

Yoongi just nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. As you began your presentation, confidently discussing educational philosophies and the importance of nurturing young minds, he couldn’t help but admire how far you had come.

He could see it now—how you had blossomed into the person you had always wanted to be. And it hurt that he hadn’t been there to witness your journey.

When the seminar concluded and students approached you with questions, Yoongi hesitated, unsure whether to approach or wait. Jimin gave him a gentle push.

"Go," he urged. "Now’s your chance."

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi mustered the courage to stand up and make his way through the crowd. As he approached the stage, you finally noticed him, and your eyes widened in shock.

The room seemed to fall silent as you stared at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and something unspoken—maybe longing, maybe pain.

"Y/N," Yoongi whispered, his voice trembling. "I... I’m here."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, still frozen in surprise.

"I came back," Yoongi said softly, his gaze unwavering. "I told you I’d always come back to you."

Your breath hitched as your mind struggled to process what was happening. You blinked a few times, trying to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“Y-Yoongi?” you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief.

Yoongi’s lips quirked up into a small, fond smile, his eyes never leaving yours. Seeing him standing there after all these years—looking just as handsome, just as familiar—made your heart pound in your chest. A whirlwind of emotions surged through you: happiness, confusion, shock, and a hint of fear that this might just be a cruel dream.

Yoongi’s hands itched to reach out and pull you into his arms, but he hesitated, not wanting to overwhelm you. Instead, he just looked at you with that soft, tender gaze that you remembered so well—the gaze that once made you feel like you were his whole world.

“It’s really you…” you managed to choke out, covering your mouth as tears brimmed in your eyes.

Before you could stop yourself, you rushed forward and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Yoongi staggered slightly, caught off guard, but then his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you just as tightly. You buried your face into his shoulder, feeling the familiar warmth and scent you had missed for so long.

**“You came…” you whispered, your voice muffled against his hoodie.

He let out a shaky breath, his hand gently caressing the back of your head. “Of course, I did,” he murmured. “I couldn’t stay away any longer. I had to see you… I missed you so damn much.”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands still gripping his shoulders. “I thought… I thought I’d never see you again,” you whispered. “It’s been so long, Yoongi…”

He reached up and gently wiped away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “I know. I’m sorry for making you wait. I just… I had to come back. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’ve been on my mind every day.”

Your lips trembled, a soft laugh escaping as you wiped at your own tears. “You idiot… You really think I stopped thinking about you?”

Yoongi’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I never stopped loving you. I promised I’d come back, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling through your tears. “You did.”

Suddenly, you heard someone clearing their throat, and you both snapped your heads to the side. Jimin was standing there, his phone held up, recording the entire interaction with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Hyung, you’re so cheesy,” Jimin teased. “The guys are gonna love this.”

Yoongi shot him a glare. “Yah! Park Jimin, delete that!”

Jimin just giggled and skipped back a few steps. “No way! The guys need to see this. You were about to cry, hyung! I’ve never seen you this soft!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth as Yoongi tried to chase after Jimin, who was already texting the video to the group chat.

“Jimin-ah!” Yoongi hissed, but his annoyance was half-hearted. He glanced back at you, giving you a soft, embarrassed smile, his ears turning red.

Jimin, still grinning, gave a thumbs up. “Yoongi-hyung’s in love!” he sang teasingly. “I’m telling the whole world!”

Yoongi gave up chasing him and just groaned, running a hand through his hair. But when he turned back to you, his expression softened once again.

“Sorry about him,” he muttered. “You know how he is.”

You just smiled, wiping your cheeks. “He hasn’t changed a bit.”

Jimin leaned in and whispered, not so subtly, “Actually, neither of you have. You’re still so in love it’s ridiculous.”

Yoongi shot him a warning look, but the corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile despite himself. He reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“Can we… talk?” he asked softly. “There’s so much I want to say to you.”

You nodded, your heart racing but your smile never fading. “Yeah… I want that too.”

Jimin patted Yoongi’s shoulder before stepping back. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Just don’t forget to thank me later, hyung. Without me, you wouldn’t have found her.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes but gave him a grateful nod. “Thanks, Jimin-ah.”

As Jimin wandered off to give you two some space, Yoongi turned his attention back to you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. He looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time all over again, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You did it, Y/N. You made your dreams come true.”

You bit your lip to keep from crying again. “You too, Yoongi. You became everything you wanted to be. I’m proud of you too.”

He looked down for a moment, a hint of sadness flashing in his eyes. “I just wish I hadn’t lost you along the way.”

You reached out and cupped his face gently, making him look at you. “You didn’t lose me,” you said firmly. “You never did. I was always waiting for you.”

Yoongi’s lips quivered, and he leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. “Then I’ll never let you go again,” he whispered, his voice full of determination. “Not this time.”

You smiled and leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his. The kiss was tender and filled with years of longing, both of you savoring the moment that you’d both been waiting for.

And just around the corner, Jimin snapped a few photos and sent them to the group chat with the caption:

"Mission accomplished. Lovebirds reunited. Yoongi-hyung actually cried!"

[rimunagenius]

I Could Die For you

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 1.2k

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , fluff, fluff, literal fluff, so much love that it’s sickening

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: to make up for that last post about emily because what the flip!! also the first Kate fic i’ve released that hasn’t been in a series!! yay! also ofc i had to write Kate to one of my favorite love songs!!💕 if you guys do not listen to this song and love it, i’m quitting writing and reporting everyone’s blog…

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

Something inside the cards I know is right

Don't wanna live somebody else's life

Kate was so happy. She knew her life was exactly where she wanted it to be. Cold mornings like this, wrapped in the bed sheets, both your bodies wrapped together to create the most perfect fit to a puzzle.

With your head resting on her body, your nose nuzzling perfectly into her neck, your soft snores and exhales ticking her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The way your hand rested on her chest, and the way Kate's hand rested on your waist from the way she was holding you into her body. She knew she didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Lying here, wide awake admiring you and thanking god or whoever was out there, that she was able to do this, and do it with you.

This is what I want to be

And this is what I give to you because I get it free

"Oh my god, Kate." You stood in shock in your guys' kitchen. You had a rough day at work, letting Kate know that while you sat in your office, counting down the minutes until you could come home. So when you walked through the door and wandered into the living room where Kate was watching the NBA finals, she got up to greet you and took you to the kitchen, giving you the flowers and chocolate she picked up on her way home from practice today. 

You had a new adjustments to make since leaving Iowa. Picking up your life and moving to Las Vegas with Kate when she found out she made the roster officially, after living in a hotel room during training camp. You loved her so much, and you had so much faith in the person she was and the skills she had, you knew moving across states wasn't going to be a regret you had years down the line. 

Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation radiating from the blonde who stood a few feet away. "Aw, don't cry. Why are you crying, baby?" Kate walked up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck so you buried your face into her chest. 

"Because. You do this for me just for having a bad day. Your days are full of stress with basketball, still proving yourself, and tired from your work. I don't deserve you, Kate." You were a mess. You missed a lot of things. You missed your old friends, how close your guys' family used to be, and you missed Kate while she was gone. You missed a lot of things—you've longed for those things, but you loved your life here with Kate. You two away from what you knew and grew accustomed to, to independently make what you want and need. 

You loved it but you couldn't help but long for what used to be your life sometimes. "You deserve everything. You deserve the world and more because you packed your life up just because you believed in me. This is the very least I could do for you. I will continue to show you how important you are to me and who I am. You make me better so I'm going to show you every day til I can't anymore. I love you. You work hard and you deserve to be appreciated and seen." 

That made the tears fall harder, but you looked up at Kate, and couldn't believe this was your girl. The woman you got to spend and do life with. You kissed her lips chastely, hugging her close again. You two stood there, looking at the pretty flowers and sharing some of your chocolate. 

She smiles while I do my time

It was so early in the morning. Kate waking you up for a travel day for the Aces. It was an away game to Los Angeles and you wanted to make this game so you took the days off. 

You hated getting up early, and the stress that came with traveling was truly not a great time. Kate knew it, but she loved that you were willing to do it for her.  You didn't like most things, but the look on your girlfriend's face when you watched her do the thing she loves most, play the game that gave her many of the amazing opportunities she's had, it was all worth it. 

Kate walked onto to the court, looking at you behind the Aces bench, and smiled. You already smiling right back at her. She knew that no matter how early she woke you up, or how many times she did it, you'd be there, lift her up, and cheer her on. You knew this was where you wanted to be. 

I could die for you

It was the day after Kate had won the WNBA Finals, and you two had been lying in bed since last night. You couldn't believe that she had come so far from the little girl who idolized the Iowa Hawkeyes Women's Basketball team, to a woman who's grown into the most tremendously courageous and strong woman who won her first WNBA Championship. It was so surreal. 

"You know I love you so much, right?" Kate whispered. One arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to her body, while her other hand held your thigh that lay across her hip. 

"I would hope so." You giggled softly, looking up at the blonde above you, your hand went from her chest to the side of her face, resting against her cheek. You looked into her eyes, the blue of them convincing you more by the second that they were better looking than the sky outside. 

"No, I'm serious. You are the love of my life. I would be so lost without you. I don't think I could live without you—let alone do what I've done this past year without you." Her voice wavered, you could tell her emotions still running high after the night she had last night. 

"Kate, my love." You chuckled nervously, the confession making you giddy, but also overwhelmingly more in love with Kate, if that was even possible. It brought tears to your eyes.

"You make me so happy. Just being right here, with you, is more important to me than winning another ring." 

"Oh my god Kate, stop it. You're going to make me cry. I'm so in love with you." You wiped a small tear that fell down your cheek. Kate smiled down at you, willing herself to not close her eyes and just die happy right here with you. 

"I'm so in love with you, I could die." Kate giggled softly, wiping her eyes before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss. You smiled so hard you couldn't even kiss properly. A fit of giggles came from the both of you. 

"Ah! Kate, stop it! Oh my god, Kate!" You screamed and giggled as she left kisses and tickles everywhere she could reach, especially in your most ticklish spots. You two couldn't be anymore happier. Kate wouldn't want to be anywhere else unless you were there, under her arms or wrapped in them. 

Oh, this life I choose.

You two were just simply two girls in love and wouldn't have it any other way. 

[egcdeath]

sealing the deal

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: you and patrick make a few unique business proposals to each other.

word count: 7k

warnings: succession au – tomshiv dynamic (pre-failmarriage), proposals (business and romantic), fluff, a little angst, mentions of a dad being very sick/almost dying, lots of exposition/background on the relationship, art cameo, a little domesticity, established relationship

author’s note: you don’t have to know anything about succession to enjoy this fic! i’ll explain everything that you need to know. if you’re a diehard succession fan i can’t promise that everything will be completely faithful to the source material but it definitely takes a lot of inspiration from tom and shiv’s dynamic.

i wanted to give a HUGE thank you to my succession anon who gave me so much help and guidance for this fic and basically ended up being my co-author for this fic! i hope you all enjoy :)

It wasn’t always easy loving the youngest son of the owner of a multi-billion dollar media conglomerate. 

In fact, most of the time, it was quite the opposite. 

Even without Patrick working in his family’s business, it always felt a little bit like you were in a competition for brain space and time with his family and career, and you were losing. Badly. 

You weren’t exactly sure that you knew what you signed up for when you first met Patrick—connected to each other by a mutual friend you went to business school with, whom you’d begged to try to set you two up for career advancement purposes more than anything else. 

“You know that guy you keep asking me about?” your friend asked you after taking a hefty sip from the drink the bartender just passed her. 

“Patrick Zweig?” you asked, not bothering to pretend like you didn’t know who she was talking about. 

“Yeah!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You weren’t sure where she was going with this subject, but you were intrigued by her mention of the man and her apparent entertainment at the situation. 

“What about him?” you asked, perversely curious as to why she was bringing him up now. 

“I invited him to come out with us tonight!” she laughed once more as she divulged this information, as if it wasn’t shocking news to you.  

“What? What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me before!” you practically yelled at her over the sound of loud music and other bar patrons. You suddenly felt very self conscious. If you’d known you were going to meet Patrick Zweig tonight, you would’ve put yourself together, rather than coming straight from work to the bar. 

“I wanted to surprise you!” she continued with her giggling at a situation that you did not find nearly as humorous. “Oh my god. I wish you could see your face right now.”

“I hate you!” you laughed, thinking that maybe this was some sort of prank. “You’re joking, then?”

“No, he’s really coming. He just got back from D.C. and wanted to meet with me. I asked if my hot friend could come along and he was like, ‘Obviously!’”

You groaned aloud. This wasn’t how you intended to make your first impression on him.

“Okay, well, what’s his type?” you asked her, hoping to get a bit of insight before you were launched right into what might end up being your first date. You were sure that you would make a good impression if you showed up as you were, but you wanted to be better than good. You didn’t want to be just another forgettable notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, taking a sip from her drink. “Hot? A nice ass? A little mean? Isn’t that every guy’s type?”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough for me,” you replied. You wanted to have a strategy going into this. You would’ve appreciated at least a small briefing before meeting someone so intimidating. 

“I am, you just check all the boxes already. Just be yourself and I’m sure things will work out fine,” she assured you. 

Her assurance was well warranted, considering that things worked out far better than fine. In fact, your friend was overdue for a fruit basket—one that you would be paying for with Patrick’s credit card as you sat in the dining room of your shared penthouse apartment, after you wrapped up a day of work in the skyscraper that was his father’s corporate headquarters. 

At the time, you had a slight idea of who he was, but you had an even better idea of who his family was. Anyone who owned a television would be familiar with his family’s corporation—from the causal channel surfers who passed one of their many news channels during their search for the newest episode of The Bachelor, to the thousands of people with their logo burned into their device screen from the hours they spent with their eyes locked on the 24-hour stream of borderline propaganda. 

Beyond his impressive family, you’d heard whispers and rumors about Patrick for a long time. Between headlines in gossip magazines and stories from your mutual friend, you learned that he’d entered the political world as an attempt to make a name for himself outside of his family name, but struggled to be taken seriously for many years due to the less than stellar reputation that came with being a Zweig.

Although, rumors about his career were just the tip of the iceberg. Gossip about his tumultuous relationships—if they could even be called that—and history of partying far too hard often ran wild, making you believe that your initial meetings with Patrick would be nothing more than a few hookups and sweet talking yourself into a new job. After all, there was no better pillow talk than an elevator pitch. 

At first, your plan seemed like it was right on track. You ended your first night together in the early morning, finding yourself in Patrick’s apartment for hours. Your night hadn’t really ever ended, with the two of you leaving the bar together, having some of the best sex of your life in a bed that felt a little bit like laying on a cloud, then proceeding to talk for hours until it was time for you to go back to work. You smiled to yourself as you sat in the backseat of Patrick’s car, exhausted from the long night and a little uncomfortable in yesterday’s clothes, but mostly enthusiastic after your surprisingly eventful night with the man. 

It was a strange turn of events from what you initially expected. While you couldn’t be too sure what you were getting yourself into when you learned you were being set up on a date, you assumed that Patrick would be like any other rich asshole you’d gone out on dates with, who got what they wanted from you, sent you off on your merry way, then never spoke to you again. You quickly discovered that he was unlike anyone you’d ever been with before. 

Patrick seemed to be full of surprises, and the fact that you were going on multiple dates with him in the first place was one of those very surprises. You hadn’t expected to go on any more than three dates before you asked about working for his family, securing yourself a job, then leaving him alone. 

What took you by even greater surprise were the dates themselves. What started as an intimate dinner in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city ended with you at a terrible 24-hour diner, treating Patrick to his first slice of cherry pie as you talked into the wee hours of the morning. 

Your subsequent dates went similarly, with the two of you talking endlessly about anything and everything. Patrick was someone full of surprises—he was far from the rich asshole you expected him to be, and more like a knowledgeable politics nerd with a lot of money. 

You talked for hours about big things, like why Patrick decided to pursue a career as a political strategist and what brought you to New York City, but you also found it easy to discuss small random things with him, spending an extended period of time discussing how you named your cat, and debating on the best restaurant in the city. 

You always thought of yourself as being somewhat agreeable and friendly when it came to conversation, but your discussions with Patrick took you by surprise. You weren’t sure you’d ever clicked with someone the way you clicked with him, and it made you as excited as it made you nervous. 

By the time you worked up the nerve to ask Patrick about working for his family, you were already beat to the punch. The two of you were tucked into the booth that you’d recently declared as yours in the same diner that you seemed to be spending all of your all-nighters in, reclining comfortably in the particularly uncomfortable seats. 

“Do you like the business side of things?” Patrick asked you, stirring a flattening Diet Coke with a straw. 

“It’s fun,” you dismissed. “It’s less fun going to work on a half-hour of sleep.”

“Shut up. You love it,” the man across from you laughed, an admittedly very handsome half-smile on his face. “I mean it though. Do you like what you’re doing?”

“It pays the bills, I guess. I like the work, but I’m not huge on the company. All the politics and the instability with layoffs lately… It isn’t exactly ideal.”

“Would you ever work for my family?” he asked. “I mean, you’re just wasting potential elsewhere. I really think they could use someone like you on their team.”

“Seriously?” you asked, partially surprised at the proposition, but mostly surprised that you weren’t the one to ask in the first place. Across the table, Patrick listened to you intently. “I mean, If they’d have me, I’d love to work for them.”

“My dad mentioned something about them looking for some new blood. I can put in a good word for you, if that sounds interesting to you.”

“Is this because I showed you the joys of a slice of diner cherry pie?” you joked, trying not to let on just how overjoyed you were about this opportunity. 

“You got me. And now that you mention it, we should probably order another slice,” he suggested, going along with your joke. “You’re smart and you clearly know your shit. Besides, I’m mostly doing it for myself. It’ll be nice to have someone around at company Christmas parties who can actually keep up with me.”

“Well, thank you,” you replied calmly, though you were doing somersaults in your mind. “I look forward to drinking eggnog and singing Mariah Carey songs with you.”

In retrospect, you recognized this action as the first of his many wordless declarations of love. You later learned that Patrick did everything he could to avoid talking business with his family, as it was clearly a sore spot for everyone involved. Realizing that he’d gone out of his way to get you a job had been an even more kind gesture than you knew at the time. 

While you initially expected your fling to taper off after Patrick fulfilled his end of the business deal he didn’t even know he was facilitating, your relationship did nothing of the sort. In fact, his favor seemed to have the opposite effect on your bond. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were courting each other like lovesick Jane Austen protagonists. In another shocking turn of events, Patrick ordered flowers to your doorstep each morning and took you on lavish dates, while you began to take four-hour long train rides to and from D.C. each weekend to visit him, and frequently sent him rambling love letters. 

While you hadn’t expected for your relationship to unfold the way that it did, you genuinely loved Patrick. You loved the way his eyes crinkled when you told him something stupid that he’d laugh at, or how he leaned in to whisper something judgmental in your ear about someone you mutually disliked during family events. You loved the way his hand felt in yours and the way his mind worked, which he frequently displayed to you while discussing his latest political strategy. You even loved when he minced words to describe how he felt about you, knowing that though the word ‘love’ might never leave his lips, his actions spoke far louder than his voice ever could. 

It just so happened that you loved his proximity to power, too. 

While his money and power might have piqued your interest initially, it didn’t change the fact that the two of you quickly clicked. You had a natural chemistry, with you matching Patrick’s flirty words and actions with ease. It also just so happened that you entered each other's lives at the perfect time, with you in dire need of a career upgrade, and Patrick in need of someone unafraid to show him more affection and care than he was willing to give. 

Though he wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, you quickly became a tenured professor in Patrick-ology. You were certain that this played a role in why Patrick liked you so much in the first place—being somewhat emotionally stunted, he needed someone who could understand his thoughts without him having to explicitly say every detail, and you did exactly that. 

This skill worked out surprisingly well for you. You gave him the love and understanding that he’d been looking for and missing for all of his adult life, and you got to reap the benefits that came with being in a relationship with someone in one of the most powerful families in the world. 

Despite your more humble beginnings, you quickly became familiar with luxurious items and activities. You also quickly learned that no matter how prepared you thought you were for that level of wealth—you weren’t. You couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times your unfamiliarity with certain norms left you as the laughing stock of the family. 

But it wasn’t all corner offices in skyscrapers and helicopter rides. During the honeymoon phase of your relationship, it certainly felt like it, but the cracks in your foundation became more and more evident every day. 

The thing was, as much as you two cared about each other, there was a family shaped shadow that loomed over everything that you did. It was clear that you were an outsider in Patrick’s family. Coming from an upper-middle class Midwestern background, you were often made to feel like you were a stupid gold-digger, only staying around your boyfriend for power, rather than love. At times, you wondered if his family knew what love was at all. 

The love, or lack thereof in Patrick’s family was what shocked you most of all. It was no secret that his father was unnecessarily cruel to all of his children, but particularly to his siblings trying to work their way into more serious positions in the company. Patrick somehow managed to dodge that particular flavor of cruelty, with him very obviously being his father’s favorite and working outside of the family business, but the emotional scars his father left still lingered. 

But his father’s presence didn’t just loom over him, it was beginning to loom over you, too. Not only in the extreme intimidation you felt when having to interact with him, but in the small acts of callousness Patrick showed you throughout the course of your relationship. 

It began as small things, things that bothered you less the more you got used to them. Like how he always seemed to unconsciously belittle your work, not even bothering to seem interested in the recaps you gave of your day before he launched into a story of his own about the candidate he was working with. Though you tried your hardest to fight through your smaller pet peeves with him, Patrick’s inability to be straightforward about his emotions felt like the cherry on top of an already painful sundae.

Regardless of all of the flaws, bumps, and roadblocks in your relationship, you promised to yourself that you would be in Patrick’s corner, no matter how ugly things got or how poorly he treated you. Not only out of your own self-interest, but out of your love for the man, and the knowledge of how difficult his upbringing made certain things for him. 

Which was why when you got the call from Patrick that something had gone terribly wrong with his father while coming back from his birthday celebration, you didn’t hesitate to rush to the hospital, encouraging your driver to speed all the way to the building. 

When you arrived, he and his siblings were in disarray in a way you’d never seen before. His father, who was typically a presence that towered over everyone in the room, was reduced to an old man hooked up to a number of machines. His older sisters, who were always either waiting for the moment to swoop in and make a crude joke or waiting in the wings to discuss the next business strategy, paced back and forth endlessly, clearly feeling the pressure of their sick father.

Patrick sat alone on an uncomfortable chair, peering helplessly into the observation room. It was rare for you to see him with his feelings written so openly across his face, even after years of being in a relationship with him. That concerned you.

You made quick work of walking over to Patrick, whose tensed-up shoulders slightly dropped as you took a seat next to him. Though he wouldn’t ever tell you this, you knew that your presence made him feel more supported and a little more safe, though you being or not being in the hospital clearly wouldn’t have an impact on if his father lived or died. 

“Hey,” he greeted you, immediately squeezing your hand. “Thanks for coming,” he said weakly, as if he was fighting off a new round of tears. In that moment, you so desperately wanted to take some of his emotions for yourself, knowing that Patrick hated feeling any feeling, let alone such negative feelings to such a serious degree. 

“Of course, honey,” you reassured him, running what you hoped would be a grounding hand up and down his arm. “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Water? A snack? I saw that burger place you like on my way over.”

“No, nothing right now,” he sighed. You inspected him cautiously, knowing that he wasn’t exactly one to always say what he meant. “Really,” he assured you, though you didn’t completely buy it. 

Since he wasn’t in the mood for more material items, you decided that the best course of action was a little affection. He wasn’t always the biggest fan of receiving affection in front of his family, but you figured that in a time where he was uncertain if his father would live or die, he would appreciate a little outward support. 

You laid your head on his shoulder and angled your body closer to his. Not expecting any response, you were surprised when Patrick kissed the top of your head. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’d be in trouble if someone overheard him. 

You held his hand as the two of you sat for hours, only getting up to stretch your legs or take phone calls from friends with insight on other high-end medical facilities that might be able to better accommodate Patrick’s father. 

You did your best to give Patrick his space when he needed it, as he floated between two of his siblings—one of which was focused mainly on the future of the company, and the other in a state of denial about the state of her father—then back to you when he could no longer stand the chaos of his sisters. 

It was a stressful scene, and one that was clearly too much for your boyfriend, who went back and forth between wanting to be glued at your hip, and wanting to be left completely alone. You’d seen Patrick stressed in the past, with him chatting your ear off as he waited for his candidate’s election results, or as he prepared to give a speech at an event, but you’d never seen him like this. 

He almost seemed fragile, like one wrong word or action might break him. It frightened you to see him in such a state. Again, you lamented not being able to take some of his pain for yourself. 

In the time that you waited without any word from any doctors, a few gears began to turn in your mind. Life was so fleeting, which was proven by Patrick’s mighty father falling so seemingly easily. Really, it could’ve been any of you sitting on that table with tubes and monitors attached to you. If it were Patrick who was sitting on that gurney, you would be an absolute wreck. If he somehow died, you also wouldn’t technically be a widow, despite your long-term relationship with the man. 

All of it made you wonder if you should just bite the bullet and propose to Patrick.

Sure, it wasn’t the best timing ever. Sure, you’d always imagined yourself being on the receiving end of a grand proposal, especially from someone like Patrick. But maybe he would appreciate the gesture—giving him a distraction to take away some of his pain, and giving him one final grand milestone with you while his dad was still alive. 

To a lesser extent, being married would provide you with certain protections you didn’t have while you were only his long-term girlfriend. Obviously, you didn’t want to think of anything bad happening to your boyfriend, but accidents and tragedies could happen at any point, and it was better to be prepared than to be sorry. 

It felt right that you might be able to join his family during a time where he was losing a family member. Not only for his sake, but because losing their patriarch meant unprecedented instability in his family. You wanted to be sure of your spot amongst them, after you’d grown used to the privileges that came with being Patrick’s girlfriend. 

You fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger, a family heirloom passed from generation to generation onto you. It was no expensive piece of jewelry, and it certainly wasn’t an engagement ring, but it was incredibly meaningful to you—a symbol of your family, which was extremely important to you. Patrick knew just how much you valued the ring and exactly what it represented to you, so in turn, you hoped that if you gave it to him, he would understand how much he meant to you. 

Getting up from where you’d been sitting for far too long, you began to pace the hallways of the hospital, wondering about the timing of your now imminent proposal. As you shuffled through the sterile building, you surprised yourself as you came across your partner. 

“Patrick!” you said with a start after unexpectedly catching a glimpse of him. 

“Hey,” he greeted unenthusiastically before beginning to walk right past you. 

“Wait,” you grabbed onto his arm before he could fully walk away, encouraging him to look right at you. It was now or never, and the words were on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time for this right now,” he dismissed, his voice monotone and listless. 

“You do, though. Patrick, listen,” he didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, but was prepared to listen to you anyway. You knew you only had a few seconds to pitch your proposition before you lost him, so you spat out your words rather than beating around the bush. “Let’s get married.”

“What?” he looked at you with brows drawn in confusion. It wasn’t exactly the ideal reaction to your proposal, but then again it wasn’t much of a proposal. “Right now?”

“Obviously not now, but… soon?” as you spoke, you began the process of slipping the ring off your middle finger and attempting to present it to him in the palm of your hand. Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic or put together proposal, but it felt right to be offering him such a grand and personal gesture while everything else was going sideways in his life. 

“I know it’s probably not the best time, but I thought that maybe I could make things a little better with your dad and… I don’t know. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t want to wonder about what we could’ve been and-” you rambled on before you were interrupted with a sigh. 

“Honey, you can’t just make my dad dying better,” he rubbed his temple exasperatedly, then looked between you and the ring you were presenting him with. “If you wanted to make me feel better, you should’ve just brought me coffee.”

You frowned at him, knowing that you’d offered him that very thing earlier and he turned you down. You wondered if your communication would ever improve—or if it even needed to improve, since this proposal was going so poorly that you’d probably leave the hospital single. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you closed your palm and put your hand in the pocket of your jacket, fully prepared for Patrick to tell you to fuck all the way off. It had been stupid for you to think that Patrick would appreciate such a grand gesture during such a terrible time. 

“Wait,” Patrick stopped you, now reaching for your arm. “My answer isn’t a no, it’s just… I don’t want this to be the memory. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Doing all the work of getting your hand out of your pocket, he grabbed the ring you presented him with to further prove his words and slipped it on his ringer. It only fit halfway down his finger, but he kept it on regardless. 

“Really?” you said, suddenly perking up.

“Duh,” he replied, looking a little shy as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he briefly looked away from you, as if his feelings were so strong that he couldn’t even manage to look you in the eye. 

You couldn’t contain your excitement at his answer, jumping and squealing a little bit as you pulled him into an overly enthusiastic hug. You heard the familiar sound of Patrick laughing quietly in your ear as you squeezed him. Though he always seemed to hold back his emotions, you knew that he was just as excited as you were to be promised to one another.

You pulled him into a soft kiss, draping your arms around his neck, holding him as close as you could until he inevitably pushed you away. 

Patrick surprised you with how long he was willing to embrace you, clearly in need of a little bit of comfort after such an emotionally exhausting night. You surprised yourself when you ended up being the person to pull away. 

“Should we go check on our family?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement around finally being in. 

“I just need a second,” he told you, glancing down the hallway before pulling you into yet another embrace. He pressed his face into your hair, soothing himself with your scent and presence. You rubbed circles into his back and muttered something about him taking all the time he needed.

You were interrupted by one of Patrick’s sisters, whose voice called out your names down the hallway. “When you two are finished with your snuggle-fest, the doctor has news for us.”

“Wait, what?” Patrick pushed you away quickly, his tune changing in an instant.

“Good news, I think. But move your asses. C’mon,” she directed, already turning away and Patrick quickly following her. 

If you were experiencing an emotional rollercoaster, you couldn’t even begin to understand how Patrick was feeling. Finding out his dad was sick, being proposed to, and immediately hearing more news about his father in the span of just a few hours must’ve felt unreal. 

You sat quietly and observed from the sidelines as a doctor took them into their father’s room and filled in the siblings on the state of him. They all seemed to share a collective sigh of relief, and though you couldn’t hear the exact news from where you were sitting, you knew that it must’ve been good. 

When Patrick came back to you, he had a hint of a sad smile on his face. “Ready to go?” he asked you. 

He didn’t need you to ask twice. You were more than prepared to escape the too-bright lights, sickeningly sterile scent, and the feeling of sadness that seemed to be hanging in the air of the hospital. 

Your driver was a welcome sight, with him giving you a quiet greeting as the two of you got in the backseat of the car. As he drove, Patrick reached for your hand, which you gladly gave up to him. 

In the following minutes, Patrick crept over further into your space until he sat directly beside you, leaning his head on you with his eyes closed. The long day was surely taking its toll, with the anxiety of his dad being in such dire straits, and the excitement and confusion of you proposing to him. 

His sleep was well earned. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then closed your own eyes, letting the soft sound of the early morning city traffic lull you to sleep. 

In the following days, you could tell that something wasn’t quite right with Patrick. At first, you chalked it up to nerves around his father’s health, but that didn’t seem to be it. Typically, when Patrick was really anxious about something, his silence on the elephant-sized topic gave him away. While you’d heard quite a bit about the state of his father from him—whether it was an update sent to him by his step-mother or an actual visit to the man—you hadn’t heard a peep about your engagement since the day after you got engaged. 

On the other hand, you were struggling to keep the news to yourself, despite the request of Patrick. You wanted to scream the announcement from the rooftops, but in the early morning after you returned from the hospital, Patrick made his position very clear: Wait a little while for things to blow over before you started telling people– your friends and family included. 

Despite the fact that he wore your ring every day since the day that you’d given it to him, something about his behavior told you that it was that very ring that was giving him so much internal conflict. 

In the past few years of knowing Patrick, you learned that he was a bit of a control freak. You wondered how out of control it made him feel for you to be the person to propose to him. Part of you wondered if you should’ve even proposed in the first place if it was going to be an issue. Maybe you should’ve let him do things on his own timeline, rather than making him feel nervous or insecure in your relationship.

But at the same time, Patrick initially seemed rather entertained by the idea of you getting married. In the morning after your engagement, he couldn’t stop referring to you as Mrs. Zweig. At the desk of your brand new office, given to you after a serious promotion, you found a box of expensive chocolates with a note fondly referring to you as his fiancé. As you laid next to him in bed that night, he pulled up the profiles of three separate wedding planners and asked you about your preference in people. 

It almost felt like his feelings on your engagement were constantly fluctuating between being excited to be with you forever, and being terrified of that very commitment. Things weren’t made any better by Patrick’s professional-level ability to dodge questions, especially questions related to how he genuinely felt. 

“C’mon, you know how I feel,” he replied to you after you directly asked him over breakfast. He lifted his mug casually, subconsciously putting space between the two of you. 

“Pat, I don’t. That’s why I asked,” you forced out a laugh, though the situation wasn’t exactly funny to you. If Patrick didn’t want to marry you, you didn’t want to force him to do so. 

“But you always know how I feel,” he said with a bit of a pout and a whine—what you called his ‘let me get away with it’ demeanor that he often used with his family—before setting down his coffee and standing up. 

“Not this time,” you explained, standing up as well and abandoning the plate of half-eaten eggs in front of you. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he dismissed your concerns and stepped close enough to you to hold your face in both of his hands. 

“Love you?” you asked, hoping that if he could confirm that at the very least, you might have a better understanding of what was going through his head. 

“Of course,” he said genuinely, though he didn’t offer you any parroting of those words. Instead, he dropped his hands from your cheeks and kissed one of them. “Have a good day at work, okay?” 

“Yeah. Thanks,” you tried not to look as annoyed as you actually felt as you made quick work of grabbing your work bag and leaving. You needed some time to make sense of it all. 

The situation only became more complicated as you sat down in a conference room, mentally preparing yourself to make your first big presentation as the newly vetted Head of Parks and Cruises division. You cared greatly about what your peers thought about you, so you couldn’t deny the nerves running through your veins. 

These nerves only increased when you caught a glimpse of Patrick from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the conference room, shaking hands with people on your floor and clearly making cordial small talk. 

You desperately hoped that he was there to wish you luck on your presentation, and not to pick your conversation from the morning back up. You bitterly thought about how he couldn’t have picked a worse time as he waved at you from the window. You stiffly waved back, not exactly in the mood to be interrupted right before a big presentation. 

“Hey, if I don’t make it back for whatever reason, you can do this presentation, right?” you asked quietly, leaning into your newly-hired assistant’s ear. 

“Wait, what?” he asked you, brows furrowing. “I don’t know, I haven’t practiced or anything, and-“

“Perfect,” you replied, not listening to a single word he was rambling out. “Just read off the slides. You’ll be okay.”

You didn’t bother staying to listen to Art ramble in your ear about how he didn’t know what he was doing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the one presenting, and if he absolutely had to, he’d probably be fine. 

You shut the door behind you, politely waving at one of your co-workers as they entered the conference room. You made your way to Patrick and stood with your arms crossed against your chest, trying to strike a good balance between showing him how agitated you were, and not trying to further agitate your fiancé, who seemed to be in a particularly fragile mental state lately. 

“Hi honey, is anything important going on?” Patrick asked once you stood across from him. 

“Actually, yeah. Is there any way we could chat a little later? Like maybe an hour or two?” you suggested. “I can block some time off on my calendar for you and everything.”

“I’m sure whatever it is isn’t more important than this,” he glanced over at the conference room as he spoke to demonstrate his point. You wished you could explain to him how far that was from the truth.

“What is it?” you asked, your patience beginning to grow thin.

“You’ll have to see. Come with me?” he offered. 

“Patrick, I’m in the middle of a meeting!” you whisper-shouted, trying to keep your voice down and your body language mostly neutral, so your colleagues couldn’t observe how much you were freaking out as you talked to your partner. 

“It hasn’t started yet,” he dismissed casually. “They’ll be fine without you. I won’t be fine without you.”

You eyed him suspiciously. 

“Please,” he added, as if you’d ever be able to say no to him—though you were pretty tempted to do so. 

“Fine,” you gave in with a small, soft sigh. That didn’t deter Patrick at all, who seemed uncharacteristically excited as the two of you sat in the backseat of his car. 

“So where are we going? Or, what are we doing?” you asked, trying to ignore the terrible feeling in your gut that you felt about leaving your meeting. 

“It’s a surprise,” Patrick said coyly. “It’ll be more fun than that meeting, though.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, looking out the window. You hoped that whatever romantic gesture Patrick planned would be worth losing the respect of all of your peers. You wondered what you could tell them that would make your absence seem acceptable. Family emergency? It wasn’t exactly a lie. It wasn’t quite the truth either. 

When your ride stopped and you stepped out of the vehicle, you were surprised to find yourself at the diner that you spent the majority of your first few dates at, splitting pieces of pie and talking each other’s ears off for hours. 

“Craving some cherry pie?” you asked him curiously. Obviously, this seemed like a task he could’ve handled on his own, coming to the diner himself or having his driver buy and deliver him a whole pie, but you figured that maybe he was simply in the mood for some nostalgic comfort. In the midst of such chaos, you would be happy to give that to him. 

“It’s been too long,” he shrugged before grabbing your hand.

Patrick led you to the booth that you declared as yours all those years ago, and began to chat your ear off like normal. While you wanted to think about work, it was surprisingly easy to forget about the real world when you were in such a nostalgic place with him. 

The two of you ordered your old usual order, only enhancing the feeling of nostalgia as you shared a plate of painfully average pancakes and a slice of cherry pie.

“Ew, what is that?” you laughed after you bit into something hard and gross. “This fucking place,” you muttered, looking for a napkin that you could spit out whatever it was that you almost just consumed. 

When you glanced down at the napkin, you were shocked to find what looked like a metal ring covered in cherry syrup. “Oh shit. Do you think this belonged to someone?” 

Once you looked up, you were shocked to find Patrick holding a black velvet box, one that you’d seen before nearly a year ago as you deep-cleaned your shared bedroom, one that you chalked up as a gift for his mother or a friend. 

“Patrick?” you asked, clearly confused. He parroted your name right back to you and opened up the box, showing you one of the most beautiful rings you ever laid your eyes on. 

Suddenly, it made sense why he asked you to come out with him, interrupting you in the middle of the day to take you to a diner where you shared so many memories. Sure, he could’ve waited until you got off work, but you figured he was thinking about your conversation from the morning and wanted to do something that would show you how much he truly cared about you. He’d always been better at bigger gestures than verbally sharing his feelings, so part of you remained unsurprised. 

“I first fell in love with you here, so it only felt right to bring you back here to ask you to marry me?” he explained, not breaking eye contact with you. He was never one for a soapbox when it came to sharing his feelings, so his proposal was short and straight to the point. Though, you wondered if he had more words prepared that he simply couldn’t get out. Based on the speed of his leg bouncing under the table, you knew that Patrick was nervous out of his mind—despite him already knowing what your answer was. 

You recalled what Patrick told you in the hospital about not wanting your proposal to be the memory—the memory you told others about when you shared the news, or fondly recalled to your kids in ten years when you reminisced on your love story. 

If accepting his proposal now, and acting like his proposal was the only proposal made him feel better, you didn’t see any reason why you wouldn’t fully lean into it.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, genuinely being surprised at the offer, but playing up your excitement for the sake of your nervous fiancé. “Of course I’ll marry you, Pat.”

Patrick broke into a toothy grin, his excitement contagious to you. “Give me your hand,” he directed, taking the ring out of the box. 

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and it somehow looked even better on your finger than it did in the box. You looked at it in amazement curling and uncurling your hand to look at the ring from all of its angles. 

“It’s gorgeous, Patrick. Thank you,” you told him earnestly as you looked from your hand to him. You weren’t surprised by the quality of the ring or even that he found something that you liked so much. Growing up with lavish gifts constantly being given as an expression of ‘love’ made Patrick pretty damn good at giving you gifts. As for the other expressions of love… he wasn’t the best. But he was very obviously trying his best for you, and you loved that about him. 

In some ways, your proposals felt like the perfect encapsulation of your roles in your relationship. While you offered Patrick a ring with little monetary, but high emotional value, he gave you a ring that was probably more expensive than you could ever fathom, that didn’t have the same emotional ties that your family heirloom of a ring did. 

Beyond the appearance or symbolism behind your rings, and despite your very different proposals, you were ecstatic to be engaged to Patrick. It only felt right that after years of loving the man, you two were finally making things official in the legal sense. 

As you peered at your shyly smiling fiancé, you couldn’t help but break out into a grin yourself. You underestimated just how exciting it would be for you to be starting a new chapter of your relationship. 

[meyhew]

ah. hm. you know what makes me insane (genuinely) is that none of these people actually gave a shit about liam unless they were punching down on him. caveat: i am not excusing his actions, not by a mile. liam died, and it hurts us. but from maya's perspective, her abuser died today, and i can understand the enormous and complicated relief of that too. so this isn't about her. but. the level of unjustified hatred he receives even in death is. yeah. it's going to make me enraged, because like. every moment spent in the public eye, liam was subjected to bullying and abuse. whether from their management back in the 1D days (yeah! i still remember that shit!) or from their "fans." like. these things don't just happen in a vacuum, people don't break because they experience five seconds of trauma and that was it. there were so many contributing factors to liam's spiral. years of abuse that had nothing to do with his ex. and no one cared! they mocked him and they will mock him still and they will celebrate his death and then when it's someone they like, they'll say "man, how can we let this happen, we need to take the warning signs seriously" like !!!! YEAH. YEAH THAT'S THE FUCKING POINT. AND NONE OF YOU DID. jesus fuck

SAY! THAT! i have not seen a single person i follow excuse anything he did to maya or anyone else. but i have seen people who have continuously looked at liam in bad faith, regardless of context, say that this is so awful and he was so young etc and it’s like. you were dog piling on him! way way way before maya henry said anything incriminating! his death is not about maya henry, his death is about him and the mistreatment and abuse he started receiving when he was a kid that went unchecked and unresolved and turned him into a kind of person he did not want to be. it’s not like he was unaware of his problems. he spoke about his addiction. he spoke about his relationships and the regrets he had and his desire to get better—he just didn’t get the help he needed!!!!!! that can happen to literally anyone. i’m not going to forgive him for his mistakes bc that’s not my place but i sure as hell can and will be bitter about people who think they can say this is a tragedy while they were actively contributing to it

[wlntrsldler]

shades of cool | luke castellan

part two to how to disappear

a/n: happy endings don't exist on this page.

i. and when he calls, he calls for me and not for you; he lives for love, he loves his drugs, he loves his baby too.

“hermes is angry.” 

you knew it was your mother before you even saw her. the two, white doves cooing in the middle of downtown berkeley gave her away. although you hadn’t spoken to her in months, too afraid and too upset to put your faith in the hands of the gods since the night at the pier, your mother tried to get your attention every day. the flowers bloomed like clockwork. on your way to class, red and orange bunches sprouted from the corner of your eye. the once welcome reminder of luke turned bitter and painful. it was as if your mother was mocking you for losing him, for losing love. you felt as if you disappointed her, the daughter of the goddess of love, unable to experience it for herself. it was pathetic, really. 

you tucked your hair behind your ears, suddenly feeling self-conscious with aphrodite’s eyes on you. she was your mother, sure, and she’d been a better parent to you than most, but she was still a goddess– the goddess of beauty at that. your arms were crossed over your chest, eyebrows furrowed, “why?” 

she didn’t answer your question just yet, but she studied your face, eyes scrutinizing the marks of imperfections. she reached over to run her thumb across the bags under your eyes. “you’ve aged, my child.” 

you fought the urge to roll your eyes. this was normal with your mother. she made these snide comments about your appearance, but her comments to you were not nearly as bad as what she said to your siblings, and especially not as bad as what other godly parents put their kids through. you could handle a few jabs here and there. you shrugged, “not all of us have the power of eternal youth.” 

she nodded, pulling her thumb away, “we have not talked in a while.” 

“been busy,” you lied, chewing on your bottom lip. you tugged on the scarf around your neck, wanting to keep your hand occupied as you avoided her gaze. you wondered if your mother missed you, if she actually cared about you. in the weird way that gods do, you suppose that she did care, but you wondered if she cared about you the way a mother would; worry about your safety when you went out at night, worry if you were wearing enough layers in the winter, mundane things like that. “college and stuff, you know.” 

“hmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. she motioned for the two doves perched on the tree branch to fly away. they obeyed her, circling around each other in a dance, before flying away in separate directions, away from the both of you. “how many more years do you have left?” 

“another two after this and then i’m done.” it was odd talking to her like this, in her human form, like she was a normal mother who was just curious about college and her daughter’s future. maybe she even sounded a little bit proud of you; a child of aphrodite, making a name for herself outside of the life she was dealt. “hopefully, i’ll make it to graduate school.” 

a heavy tension hung in the air as your words echoed. aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, thinking. she looked up at the sky, before repeating herself. “hermes is angry.”

you stared at her, waiting for her to continue. there was an unreadable expression on her face, somewhere between anger, pain, and desperation, but it wasn’t her own emotions that she carried. she was mirroring someone, as if their pain was so unbearable, aphrodite herself had to shoulder some of it to save them. the gods were selfish. most of the time, they thought of nobody but themselves, but there were some moments when they showed compassion, when they showed mercy to mortals and demigods alike.

“his son resents him,” she continued, eyes closing like she was picturing it in her mind. “he is angry at me because his son prays to me instead of him.” 

“mom, i don’t want to hear this,” you sighed, anger rising in your system. you knew she knew how you felt about the situation. you’d ignored her attempts to talk frequently. “he made his decision. he’s betrayed us all.” 

“i cannot ignore him, don’t you understand?” she looked at you, eyes glossed over in a pleading manner. she looked too human. it was unsettling. “his love is loud. he is desperate. i am the goddess of love and i cannot ignore him while he suffers, even if he makes me his enemy.”

“the other gods listen to his prayers to me because i can no longer carry the burden on my own. it is too much, my child,” she shuddered, “all he talks of is you.” 

you stared at her, internalizing her words. a shiver went down your spine as you looked at her, “i don’t understand why you’re telling me this.” 

“i have tried to tell you, but you’ve been stubborn,” aphrodite frowned, “you do not pray, you do not make your offerings. you have not spoken to your siblings since that night. you have disappeared from this life as if you were not part of it at all.” 

“because i didn’t ask for this!” you screamed. “i don’t want anything to do with this, mom. losing luke… it killed me. you know this. i can’t go back there and i can’t make offerings to you or the gods when you all are the reason why he did what he did!” 

since that night, you began to question your blind faith in the gods. you’d been taught to worship them and you did because you had to. you were luckier than most, being the favorite of your mother, so you never went against the gods. you thought you had no reason to, until luke began talking to you. he planted seeds of distrust for the gods in you, learning about thalia, meeting annabeth and learning her story from luke, what luke had to go through during his quest. how did the gods sit back and leave their children for dead? but you always believed there was a purpose for all of this, and it provided you with some misguided comfort. then, luke left everyone who’d ever loved him because the anger in his soul won against all odds, and you knew there was no reason to trust them anymore. 

if the gods were all-mighty and all-powerful, how could they let him grow so angry and accept this fate? how dare they ignore him and ruin him? he was kind. he was patient. he was luke. he deserved more than what they gave him. all of you do. aphrodite blinked, trying to understand you. a look of panic flashed across her features, her human form slowly peeling away, but you could see her pulling back. 

“i’m not saying i’m joining him,” you sighed, rubbing your face with your hands, “i’m just saying what he said to percy made sense. luke had a point. the gods were horrible to him and to all demigods. hermes has no right to be angry with you, or with luke. he should be angry at himself. all of you should be.” 

“i can’t forgive luke for what he did,” you whispered, voice calming after a rumble of thunder shook the ground. the gods were listening. “beth still wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. she writes to me every month. i haven’t written back because it hurts, mom. i keep thinking of luke. she reminds me so much of him and it kills me that i can’t do anything to help her. where do i even start? i can’t fulfill the hole he left in her life. nobody can.” 

your mother nodded, clearing her throat. “do consider returning to camp this summer. your siblings miss you and your sister is not doing well.” 

“piper?” 

“silena,” she replied. the doves returned to her. “it was lovely to see you, my child.” 

in a blink, she was gone. you wondered if she’d show her face again, but the rain fell from the sky soon after she left, and you realized you probably wouldn’t. 

ii. but you are unfixable, i can't break through your world.

“i’ll catch up with you guys in a second,” you motioned for your roommates to keep walking home without you. the two girls nodded, sending you a small wave of goodbye, before they turned the street corner. you began walking towards the entrance of the science building, towards the silhouette of a boy you could recognize in every life. 

luke’s jaw was clenched as you approached him. he was caught. luke knew that he shouldn't be here. he knew it was too dangerous, but he couldn't help himself; he had to see you. 

berkeley suited you. in college, you were a normal girl, stressed about finals and getting a summer internship. though luke had never seen you outside of camp before, he always imagined that you’d look even more beautiful when you didn’t have the stress of this life on your shoulders. it was weird seeing you out in the world like this. if he hadn’t known you, if he wasn’t already under your spell, he would undoubtedly fall to worship aphrodite’s favorite daughter.

your friends didn’t know who your mother was, but if they saw through the mist, if they knew the truth, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to them. you had an aura about you that was undeniable and for a minute, luke was jealous that these people around you could freely succumb to your pull, to allow themselves into your orbit, while all he could do was watch from afar. they didn’t realize how lucky they were to be around you, they would never fully understand. 

you looked happy in the bay area, free, like you weren’t a demigod, like you weren’t preparing for a war. a war that he knew he caused. 

he looked down at his feet before rising from the steps. he hadn't planned to speak to you. he’d been following you for weeks, from a distance, of course, he wasn’t going to test his luck any more than he already was, but then you approached him and luke knew there was no hiding anymore. 

truth be told, there was never any hiding from you in the first place. you knew him better than he knew himself. sometimes, it scared him, just how vulnerable he was with you. when he first realized how he felt about you, he wanted to squash the feeling between his fingers and make it disappear into thin air. he knew there was nothing good that could come out of it, but he couldn't help but hope. 

how could he not? how could he not hope that maybe, in some twisted way, he would be able to be with you? that one day, he could stop running, stop fighting, and just love you the way he wanted to. hope was a cruel thing, luke realized after the night on the pier. it makes him believe that there is good out there, somewhere in the future, daring him to hold on just a bit longer, only to leave him high and dry, an empty shell of who he once was. 

“what are you doing here?”

luke let the question linger between the both of you for a second. partly because he didn't know what he was doing here. i needed to see you didn't feel like enough. it barely scratched the surface of what he was feeling. luke was never a wizard with words, but he used to be able to at least say something. now, though, as you stood in front of him, his mind went blank. 

“what are you doing here?” you repeated. you had your arms wrapped around yourself to soothe your skin from the wind chills. luke didn't know it got this cold in california. “i’ve seen you a few times, and i thought you’d give it up, but it’s been weeks, luke. so tell me, what are you doing here?”

luke’s mouth was dry. he thought he was being careful, but he should’ve known better. you could always sense when he was around, just like how he knew whenever you were around. there’s something that shifts in the air, as if it gets lighter and it’s easier to breathe. luke wondered if it was still the same for you. 

“he's using me,” luke whispered, “like a stepping stone to gain power.” 

for a second, your face softened into a look that he knew too well. it was the same way you used to look at him when he talked about his nightmares or when he talked about his mom. a flicker of hope passed through luke’s mind, but he knew better now. he extinguished it before it got too comfortable. 

there was a hint of disbelief in your voice when you spoke again, “what did you think was going to happen?”

“i thought i was doing the right thing,” he felt small. “i thought he wanted to make things better for us. the gods, they’re terrible parents. you know this. what they did to thalia, to all of us, i-i just thought that he would make things better.”

you shook your head, “luke, you betrayed all of us. percy, annabeth– did you know that she cries at night over losing you? over losing her brother? she’s lost everyone luke! and you were supposed to stay. you were supposed to be there for her! i saw her last summer when i came back to camp. beth is so much like you.” 

“i know,” luke was crying. he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. kronos was taking over every part of him. he was there in every crevice of him, just waiting for the moment to drain him of everything he used to be. “gods, i know, angel. i just thought i was doing the right thing.” 

“and me luke,” you rubbed your temples with the pads of your fingers. you hadn’t told anyone this before. you were too busy trying to make sure that everyone else around you was okay. as the oldest one now that luke was gone, you had to step up. your mother was right. your siblings were not doing well, nobody in the camp was. “i feel so stupid for ever trusting you. i keep thinking of every small interaction, every word you said, and i just keep wondering if any of it was real.”

“you don’t mean that,” he shook his head, stepping down to get closer to you. under the light of the streetlamp, you saw him better. if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you probably wouldn’t have recognized him. “everything, all of it, i meant it. you know that right?” 

his eyes were sunken in, dark bags outshining the once vibrant sparkle of his eyes. now, the rims of his eyes were red. his hair was matted against his scalp like he let his curls tangle into knots and didn’t bother to fix them. there were newer, smaller cuts that joined the scar on his face. they weren’t as deep, but they were fresh, a sign that whatever he faced was recent.

“i love you, please tell me you at least believe that,” luke rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm, “your mom doesn’t answer me anymore. i don’t know what else to do.”

when you didn’t say anything, luke felt the ground crumbling from under him. luke could live with a lot of things; being a failure in the eyes of his father, being a traitor, but you thinking that he didn’t love you was something he didn’t think he could live with. it was real to him, all of it. he didn’t know if this was the right time to tell you that those moments with you were the only things keeping him grounded. 

the image of you throwing your head back in laughter as he tickled your sides, the freckles on your cheeks that showed up during the summer that he would spend hours counting while you slept on his chest, the sound of your voice, talking in hushed whispers, in the dark of the hermes cabin; it was you who he held onto as he fell deeper and deeper under kronos’ control. 

luke walked closer to you, holding out a hand to touch you, when you flinched and backed away from him. your fingers unconsciously reached for the dagger you had on your belt loop. he shuddered, taking in a breath. he looked down at his hands, lips trembling as he wiped them on the fabric of his jeans. there was nothing on them, but he wanted to scrub them clean because it felt as if all the blood he spilled was stuck under his flesh, staining them red. 

you thought he would hurt you. 

“i…” luke trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets. he cleared his throat, “i didn’t come here to fight. i could never hurt you.” 

“i don’t know anymore, luke,” you bit your lip, heart breaking as you spoke to him. “i never thought that we’d end up like this.” 

“come with me,” he begged. “run away with me.” 

“is this what you came here for?” you asked, “to try to recruit me like you did with percy?” 

“no,” he shook his head vigorously. he was on the verge of getting on his knees to beg you to believe him. “i want out. i messed up, angel.” 

“you did,” you whispered. he looked genuine like he meant it, like he did want to run away from it. a piece of you wanted to say yes, yes, i’ll run away with you. tell me where to go and i’ll follow you, but it was the part of you that still clung to him. the foolish part of you who still wanted to believe that the boy you met when you were younger, stubborn, selfless, sweet, luke castellan was still there. 

you listened to that part of you on the final night in the hermes cabin, when you told him you loved him and he said nothing back. you tried so hard to lock that part of you away since that night, but it was hard to deny it when he was there in front of you.

“tell me what i can do to fix it,” luke felt like he was going crazy. “anything, angel. i’ll do it. just say the word.” 

you closed your eyes, “there’s nothing you can do anymore, luke.” 

“that can’t be true,” he hiccuped. 

“you need to go.” 

over the last few years, luke experienced brutal types of torture. he often spent days without sleeping, too afraid that kronos would visit him while he dreamt. he fought monsters he didn’t realize existed. he walked away from fights barely hanging onto a thread of life, but this– you telling him that there was nothing else left for him, like he no longer had a place in your life, this was a different type of torture that might just send him plummeting to his end. 

“please don’t come back here,” you added, motioning to the buildings behind you. “this was the one place in my life you haven’t tainted.” 

his apology was left stuck in his throat as you walked away, not once looking back at him. 

iii. but i can't help him, can't make him better and i can't do nothing about his strange weather. 

“y/n,” percy said, approaching you from behind. 

it was the summer. you were sitting on the pier, a joint loosely hanging off your lips. you put out the lit end on the wooden pier, stuffing the joint in your pocket. you knew percy knew you smoked, but you still tried to hide it from him as much as possible. he was too young. 

“hey, perce,” you smiled, kindly, scooting over to give him space to sit next to you. “sorry. you caught me. i’m not really being a good role model right now.” 

“it’s okay,” he assured you, sitting beside you. he looked out into the lake, extending his fingers to cause a ripple effect in the water. “i don’t judge.” 

you nudged his shoulder. percy looked his age in the light of the sunset. you wondered if you ever looked that young. “don’t tell mr. d.” 

“he has plenty of other things to worry about,” percy scoffed, “how are you?” 

you knew why he was asking. beth had told you today that they saw luke in the labyrinth. he was now kronos’ host. when she first told you, you were stone cold, no emotion on your face. you knew something like this was possible. it was only a matter of time until you lost luke all over again, completely this time, but it still hurt even though you knew it was coming. you simply nodded and walked off, finding solace at the pier as you always did. 

“i’m okay,” you replied, though your voice said differently. you played with the sleeves of your sweater, luke’s sweater actually. he left it in the hermes cabin along with the rest of his things. nobody dared to touch it so his bed remained the same as it was years ago, collecting dust. “he came to see me in berkeley… before, y’know.” 

“did he?” 

“yeah,” you sighed, leaning back on your elbows. “he said he wanted out. asked me to run away with him.” 

percy looked at you, “what did you say?” 

“i told him it was too late,” you met his gaze. “i don’t know if it actually was.” 

he didn’t know what to say to that. he’d only witnessed your relationship with luke for a few hours when he returned to camp for the first time. it was only a few years ago, but percy felt like it had been lifetimes. he’d heard about you and luke from annabeth and grover. when there were lulls in their conversations, one of them would bring you up and joke about how you and luke should just confess your feelings for one another. percy didn’t understand it until he saw the way luke was with you. 

luke, who’d taken him under his wing, was love struck. percy didn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, but there were traces of you weaved into luke’s life. a picture of the two of you in his wallet, a small cal berkeley flag taped messily on his wall, a box of his things under his bed that were reserved for you, doodles of hearts in black and pink ink on luke’s counselor clipboard when he did cabin checks, you were in every piece of him. 

luke was glued to your side the entire time you were there and nobody batted an eye. it was normal. luke and y/n, two names that seemed to go together, like they were meant to be uttered right after each other. it felt right. 

“i met your mom,” he said, “she was weird.” 

“sorry,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “what did she say?” 

“she was obsessed with me and annabeth,” there was a blush creeping up on percy’s cheeks. he looked down at his lap to shy away, but you caught it. it was such a teenage boy response of percy to call your mom, the goddess of love, weird because she caught onto the two kids’ feelings for each other. 

“yeah, she does that,” you decided to spare him the details of why. you were sure the boy would explode in embarrassment if you told him that you also knew about his feelings for beth. you sensed it when you returned to camp last summer. there were inklings of it when you first met them, but now their bond was stronger and it was harder to ignore. “she used to obsess over me and luke.” 

percy blinked, “she said your love was her favorite to watch.” 

now it was your turn to go red, “did she?” 

“yeah,” he nodded, “annabeth thinks that you’re aphrodite’s favorite because you and luke had a great love and she was drawn to it, which is a little mean if you ask me.” 

“agreed,” you replied, “i… i miss him, percy.” 

“i know.” 

“i love him,” you cried, smudging the mascara on your eyes. 

“i know.” 

“he wasn’t always like this,” percy watched your eyes unfocus, like you were playing back the memories you had with luke in your head. “when we were younger, before luke was the golden boy, he used to help me sneak out of camp when i’d get home sick. he’d take me to this abandoned cabin a few miles away. an old couple used to live there and they set up a little free library. luke knew i loved to read so he would take me there so i could pick out new books for the summer.” 

“i didn’t know it then, but before i got to camp, he would steal books from stores during trips into the city and put them in there so i would have new selections to choose from when i got back,” you had a fond smile on your face as you continued, “the cabin was sold to new owners and they took the library down a while back. i think they thought nobody really used it anymore.” 

“he was always good at sneaking around,” you hummed, “he’d walk out of a place with something that wasn’t his inside his pocket; a lollipop for a new camper who was missing home a little extra one summer, a can of soda for beth from mr. d’s stash when it got too hot under the sun, a flower from the demeter kids’ secret garden for me. he never got caught, but everyone knew it was him. i don’t think anyone cared, though, because it was luke. he always had good intentions at the end of the day.” 

“do you think he’s still there?” percy asked, voice hushed into a whisper. “do you think he could ever come back to being that way?” 

“probably not,” you turned to face him. you were mourning him, percy realized then. luke wasn’t dead, not physically anyway, but the way you spoke about him felt like he was already gone. “luke, he internalizes everything he does. he beats himself up over the things he does wrong. if he were to survive this, i don’t think he’d ever forgive himself for it.” 

“this life, this prophecy, it feels like too much sometimes,” he mumbled. the sun was gone now, the two of you sat in the dark, listening to the calm sounds of the water. “i still feel like i don’t know what i’m doing most days.” 

“yeah,” you played with the pink lighter in your hand. the heart you drew on the plastic was long gone and there was no more fluid in it, but you kept it anyway. “my prophecy said that i would lose a love to worse than death and i ignored then because it didn’t make any sense to me, but now it does.” 

“i’m sorry.” percy didn’t know if it was the right thing to say. 

you smiled at him differently, like you were tired, a look of resignation across your face. you stood up, motioning for him to follow you back to camp to join the others. as you walked together in silence, you noticed a single dove fly across the horizon. 

iv. high, neglectful lover. you’re crumbling, sadly. you’re sadly, crumbling. 

you’d fought through your wounds, even as your bones ached and your blood stained the clothes over your body. luke appeared then. you didn’t know if the gods took on mercy on you at that moment, or if was the lack of energy to distinguish real life from your dreams, or a mist that covered the truth from you then, but the world seemed to stop and everyone seemed to fade away. 

all you saw was luke, in his camp half-blood shirt, five beads around his neck, the same boyish smile on his face. his eyes were sparkling as he approached you. his lips felt soft to the touch and his voice was kind. 

“my angel,” he said, wrapping his arms around you the same way he always did when you returned to him each summer. 

if you were to choose the way death came for you, you would choose it just like this, you decided– in the arms of the one love you’d ever known.

[nayatarot777]

the positive karma that you have coming in 2024

• pile one •

your energy during this past year (2023):

this year has been all about completing cycles and life lessons. related to what and who you give your energy to. you’ve had to learn how to stand on your boundaries when it comes to giving and receiving your time, money, and effort. there may have been a lot of people who were coming to you for a lot of help, using you as a pillar of strength for themselves. and while you may have been happy to do this, you realised that the give and take between you and these people were not equal. perhaps it wasn’t even a purposeful thing on their part, but they didn’t even have enough energy to give to themselves so there was never going to be a time when they could repay your energy back to you. this lesson has been learned and completed now.

there are also decisions that you’ve made that you’ve decided to just throw yourself into. options were available to you (particularly when it comes to creative projects or hobbies) and you decided to take a leap of faith when going after whatever options were available to you. i feel like you realised that staying stagnant was actually harming you so you forced yourself into a state of action in order to transform your life or yourself in some way.

there’s a lot of success that you’ve experienced as a result of this. a lot of support for whatever you’re working on too. there’s a lot of fire energy here so the action that you were giving to things and people that left you drained has now been redirected to what you’re working on, with a lot of motivation and inspiration, and you’ve gained followers or supporters of your work along the way. i’m hearing that this is a very loyal group of people who want to continuously support you too. you might’ve had to deal with indecision on this path, wondering if you were working the “right way” or if this would be profitable for you in some way - but it is. these supporters aren’t leaving, even when you take a break to question whether or not you should switch up your path.

your energy in 2024:

you’re going to be a lot more focused and serious in 2024 - especially in relation to a stable and happy life. you’re going to be experiencing the destruction of self-limiting beliefs and negative thought patterns. you could go in and out of these things, but your mind is going to be a lot more stable and focused on what you’re achieving this year. there’s pretty much nothing that can influence the way that you think and what you believe about the life that you’re building for yourself. for some of you specifically, you’ll be focusing on moving into a new home. and whatever home you move into, it’ll be a very happy one. whether you’re moving into this by yourself or with someone else.

you’re also going to be more focused on celebrating your achievements which may be something that you neglected doing before. there’s a lot of happy times here, thanks to some sort of teamwork. this is teamwork either between you and a friend or partner, or teamwork between you and your guides. this could even be a business partner. either way, your hard work and efforts will manifest a lot of positivity and happiness for you. i’m also seeing fast communication when it comes to collaboration that will involve a lot of learning from others and/or teaching other people a valuable skillset too. and this will bring finances to you. especially if any of you are doing any type of life/spiritual coaching work or you’re aiming to do a work project with a group of people.

you’ll be attracting a lot of financial abundance as well as physical stability. things won’t be so uncertain when it comes to your practical life. you’ve been in the energy of financial lack and poverty but by the end of the year, you’ll be more than comfortable and emotionally fulfilled. i mean, you have the queen of pentacles clarified by the ten of cups for the end of the year. it can’t get much better than that 😂

and i’m hearing that this is because you kept yourself in the energy of receiving finances and stability even when your external reality didn’t reflect that. i feel like a lot of you are experiencing lack but you’re still spiritually abundant. this is what you call trusting in your manifestations.

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• pile two •

your energy during this past year (2023):

your energy this year was centred around communication, your thought processes, your stability, and receiving financial abundance. at the beginning of the year, you were learning how to look for opportunities to go towards that would’ve helped you in laying down a stable foundation for yourself financially. and you were learning ways to practically ground the visionary ideas that were coming to you. there has been a lot of studying, learning, and practice of a skillset that you’ve successfully developed - perhaps with the help of other people’s skills through studying their work.

you’ve learned to listen to the guidance that spirit/your spirit guides have been trying to give you. you’ve maybe even learned how to have a wider perspective of your opportunities available to you or just about what’s achievable in life in general. there’s something here about your development in your work triggering other people. you may or may not have known this at the time, but it seems like some people in the same field as you felt as though your work was higher quality than their’s. this is the energy of starting something new, joining a workplace or a community of people, and knocking any competition out of the water. even if you weren’t competing with anyone - people felt the need to compete with you 👀. but there was no competition. again, you may or may not know this. i feel like most of you don’t because you’re just minding your business and directing your focus to working on your craft. and that’s why you’re succeeding more than these people. because they don’t mind their damn business, always in competition with people. you do mind your business. and you’re in competition with nobody but yourself. period 💅🏾

by the end of 2023, you’ve MAJORLY developed your communication skills as well as the skills required for your work. and your ability to attract financial abundance too. you’ve gone from the page of swords + the page of coins to the queen of swords + the queen of coins. and this is extremely fast development. you may be someone who usually develops quickly but this isn’t the usual for people. especially when it comes to the physical realm (coin/pentacle energy). that’s the slowest moving energy within the universe that we live in and you’ve managed to develop that energy within a year. doesn’t matter if you don’t feel like you���ve done anything much in terms of your work or your business or whatever this is. you’ve done A LOT. give yourself props.

your energy in 2024:

the first card out for your energy in 2024 is the four of coins. financial stability. feeling financially comfortable and having all of your needs met. not having to worry about money because you know that you have enough. your spirit guides are coming through heavily with this energy. you might be someone who’s extremely giving, constantly wanting to give to those around you. but your spirit guides are protecting your money. they’re protecting your money in general for sure, but specifically from people who may want to just take from you monetarily. there’s also a message to keep your financial state as PRIVATE as you possible can. i’m seeing that some of you have scorpio or pluto in the 2nd house. keep your money private to protect it from evil eye. your guides are protecting it from the influence of negative energy anyway, but i’m hearing that they’d rather not have to defend it more than necessary 😂. they want to focus on helping you to stack your money up, not waste their energy on evil-eyeing, jealous bitches who are secretly hating. so try to keep this is private as possible. especially from family if you have toxic family members who you may feel (or know) would rather you not do better for yourself. but in 2024, you’re financially comfortable and stable.

there’s also something about major responsibility given to you. the responsibility of being a leader or teacher in a spiritual group, or just in a workplace. i’m mainly picking up on religion, philosophy, or a structure that people come to for spiritual guidance and help. your spiritual beliefs are also solidifying themselves. you’re gaining some type of spiritual knowledge that’s going to become a closely-followed belief for you. some of you might also start going to a church, a mosque, synagogue, etc. just a religious or spiritual place of worship. and here is where you’re going to find a major opportunity for yourself. the hierophant and the high priestess has both come out in this part of the reading for you. this is a divine counterpart. i’m really feeling like a lot of you will be exploring traditional beliefs and religions and seeing the hidden, occult knowledge within it. so, for example, if you begin to read the bible, then this is where the knowledge from religion will come from - but not in the typical way. you’ll be able to see the metaphysical and occultist knowledge that’s interwoven into these traditional texts. how scripture is spellwork, manifestation techniques, how jesus was an occultist himself, etc. that’s just one example. and i’m hearing that spirit will be giving you valuable knowledge through downloads through traditional scripture and text.

you’re finding a lot of pure, genuine love for your work. this love is coming from you towards what you do, but also from other people who love what you do too. there’s a lot of communication of genuine love from those who enjoy your work and how you help them with it. there may be a pause towards the end of the year in relation to your work, but this will be an intentional pause made by you to just enjoy the fruits of your labour as well as seeing what’s beyond the horizon for your work too. perhaps even where you’d like to start to invest money in terms of assets, property, etc. there is going to be a lot of love expressed to you for your work, for your spiritual knowledge and leadership, etc. and i feel like you may have felt like this was lacking in 2023, but 2024 is the year that love for your work is flowing.

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• pile three •

your energy during this past year (2023):

you guys were dealing with a lot of deception, lies, gaslighting even. a lot of mental manipulation and illusions being thrown at you. this stagnated your mental space and your intuition. you didn’t know what to believe nor what to think and it’s almost like you couldn’t find a way out of it. even if you protected yourself from the source of this confusion and manipulation, it still affected your mind and put you in the energy of mentally being stuck. going back and forth between 2 perceptions of this person or this situation. questioning your own intuition. there’s something about not being able to rely on what you physically see with your physical eyes and having to rely on your third-eye - which was still fucked with because i’m seeing that you struggled to even trust in your intuition thanks to whatever this deceitful energy was.

gradually, you balanced out your mind and recognised the truth about this person or this thing. even if the physical world wasn’t reflecting what you knew intuitively about this, it seems like you settled on trusting what you know and not what you were physically shown in this situation. there’s also an energy of blocking communication with someone who was very deceitful. and you decided that you did the correct thing, after a long period of going back and forth about whether or not you were correct about this person. you were. they might’ve tried to communicate with you again but you shut that shit down and your guides are wanting me to tell you that you successfully passed the karmic lesson with this person. you were successful in putting into practice a lesson that your guides have been wanting you to learn, so now you have a lot of recognition for that in the spirit realm.

this whole situation was very burdensome for you to deal with. this person was burdensome, but you’ve laid the burdens down to rest. you’ve gained more stability in your self-assurance in your intuition and your self esteem. there’s a completion in relation to a lesson with these two things. the lesson of putting yourself first, not burdening yourself with other people’s problems, and trusting your intuition about people when something feels off. you’ve stepped into emperor energy as a result of this. taking lead of your life and protecting and defending yourself when necessary.

your energy in 2024:

this year, you’re having some sort of awakening in relation to your creativity, sensuality (your physical appearance specifically), and even your sexuality or sexual needs for some of you. everything related to what brings you joy and what makes you feel comfortable. and i feel like this is a result of finally learning to focus on yourself in order to ask yourself what you want for yourself. there’s going to be a lot of love that you have towards a new beginning in your physical life - especially money and luxuries. and you’re also finding a lot of support (mainly from your guides) when finding these things. you’re almost at the end of a very long, drawn out journey - but there’s one more major thing that you have to realise about life itself before this journey can come to a completion. this journey has a lot to do with self-worth and knowing what you deserve.

there’s a lot of energy related to manifestation here (as you are recognising something about creation). this realisation is about the emotions that you feel towards the physical realm. feeling like there’s something valuable to attract or to find in every situation that you’re in. this is what will bring you success and perhaps even recognition in your creative projects. especially if you’re self employed or if you’re planning to start a side-hustle. this year, you’re learning that your feelings towards life plays a part in the opportunities for financial abundance or just practical stability in general that are presented to you. you’re listening more to the feelings of happiness and joy and paying more attention to where they come from. because where your genuine happiness comes from is where you can create and manifest easiest.

the overall energy of your 2024 is the wheel of fortune, which is extremely fitting. it’s a card about the wheel turning in your favour, and life becoming the complete opposite of what it was before. you’ve been through it in 2023, with all types of rumination and stress and anxiety. but 2024 is about following the path of joy and what actually makes you happy - again, putting yourself first instead of weighing yourself down with burdens from other people who aren’t worth it. i’m also hearing that there’s “strength in numbers”. the more you follow this path, the greater the number of spirit guides (and people who will support you with your passions) will increase. there’s a lot of support for you throughout 2024 because you’re finally supporting yourself instead of prioritising supporting others instead. again, your feelings about life will determine what you attract. you feel like you deserve support and recognition (which is why you’re giving those things to yourself now), so that’s what will manifest in your physical reality too. “as within, so without”. funnily enough, i’ve just googled the actual meaning of that phrase and here’s what it says:

“The second part of the quote, “As within, so without,” suggests that our external reality is a reflection of our internal reality. What we think and feel inside of ourselves is manifested in our external circumstances and experiences.”

which sums up this whole reading. ain’t that crazy? 😂 this awakening is happening within you and your understanding of your own creative abilities regarding life in general and how they work for you. a spiritual wakening fr 💀

be proud of yourself, because this internal awareness wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t CHOOSE to do the work (especially shadow work) in the first place. you chose not to stay stagnant despite seeing no way out of your stagnancy this past year - instead of deciding to fall into a victim complex 👏🏾

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[jesswritesthat]

Tsukishima Kei: Dog Damn

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~1.8k, fluff

• Tsukishima and his canine give a whole new meaning to how dogs take after their owners.

Warnings: Timeskip spoilers, 2 curses

>>>>——————————>

There's that saying of how dogs take after their owners, it was one Tsukishima would always scoff at. Even when he found this yappy puppy alone in the rain for the second day in a row with only a cardboard box labelled 'Please Adopt Me' and reluctantly gave in.

That's how that dumb saying came to light, the fluffy thing growled and yapped at his older brother when he became annoying. When his Karasuno teammates heard about the adoption they wanted to meet the fellow, only for him to be particularly vocal around Hinata and Kageyama. Yamaguchi was probably one of the few the pup actually liked.

This enigma continued through to the Sendai Frogs, now bigger and older, his faithful companion reflected his feelings to individuals. Much like Tsukishima, the Shikoku grew to like individuals with time much like his owner, but there's always a fun exception. 

It came with a bark, one that was louder that most Keis' dog would express during their evening walk, and to his surprise it was directed toward you.

You who was merely writing the signage for the day outside of your coffee shop. Still you didn't seem startled, while crouching you attempted to beckon the offender over but he merely growled in reply. His master seemed to laugh however, pulling down his headphones with a smirk.

"Nice try, it won't work though."

"Is that a challenge?" You stood to meet the smug smirking blonde, the dog a little more settled as his master conversed.

"He's stubborn."

"Ah a hunting breed. What's his name?" Came your observation, tilting your head at the canine which only snorted in reply.

"Rekkusu."

You paused for a moment, no doubt the man in question had intended for the delivery to be cool, but the ongoing silence made him shift uncomfortably with brows furrowing.

"As in Tyrannosaurus Rex?" You'd expectantly noted, crossing your arms with a bemused expression.

"Yeah, and what about it?" Tsukishima shot back, a mild glare in place but you only dismissed his attitude with a smile.

"It's cool, suits the little guy."

"Little guy? I suppose your lack of perception means your customers get better value for money."

"Why do you think we're so popular? See you around Rekkusu-chan and owner!" With a smirk you waved politely, before entering the coffee shop.

The ‘All Dogs Welcome’ sign framed prominently in the window.

———

Now that you'd spoken, you noticed him nearly everyday, he followed the same route in the mornings and evenings with Rekkusu in tow. This morning you awaited his passing, racing out to stop him in his tracks with a greeting bark from the dog which left you glaring.

"Back for more?"

"I come baring gifts this time." Came your proud tone, placing a Puppuccino before the dog who arrogantly waited for you step back at least 4 paces prior to sniffing it much to the owners’ amusement.

"Wow, he really doesn't like you."

"Yet. He doesn't like me yet." You replied with renewed determination.

“I’m Tsukishima Kei, and I should probably know the name of the person trying so hard to win over my dog…”

“(L/n) (Y/n). Have a nice walk guys.” A soft smile graced your lips upon noticing Rekkusu eating the treat, a small victory you’d claim (though you hoped the blonde hadn’t noticed your fist pump when walking inside).

It was only when you returned from your break that afternoon did your happy mood get disgruntled, by yen sitting on the counter no less.

"Tips? What kind of arrog—"

"No not a tip! Some smug tall guy said it was payment." Yui quickly rushed to calm you with hands defensively waving in panic.

Only a brief second passed, looking to Yui with a deadpan gaze.

"Blonde?"

She nodded.

"Big dog?"

"Uh-huh." Yui curiously responded.

"Glasses?"

A hum of agreement.

"Dickhead."

"Yes! That's him!"

"No I mean, he's not a dickhead. He just didn't have to pay, I'm trying to win over his dog..."

"(L/n)-san, what?" Her previous excitement dwindled, her cause for concern now persisting.

"Nothing, nothing. Guess he's a kind person, but that doesn't mean the challenge ends here."

———

Much to Tsukishimas’ disinterest, it didn’t end. Despite the man only nodding in acknowledgement and diverting his gaze, you made a point to wave whenever you saw him. If you had the time you’d also come to greet Rekkusu who remained as hostile as ever - though you only need take two steps back for him to devour his treats now.

You even caught Tsukishima on one of his training runs, when he’d stopped to check his statistics you’d handed him a bottle of water without a word, just a knowing smile.

Then came a time you were actually on a break during one of your evening shifts, you were outside with a hot drink enjoying the autumn breeze when he’d awkwardly stood at your table. Rekkusu alerted you to their presence instantly, a solid bark in play but his masters’ demeanour was what perplexed you most.

“Would you mind if I joined you? I was going to get a coffee anyway…”

“Sure Tsukishima, do you want me to watch Rekkusu whilst you grab one?” Even if your request was a whimsical one, you were both offended and amused by the growl you received.

“He’s still y’know, stubborn.”

Nevertheless, the blonde rejoined your table with a coffee and pastry in hand - one he slid over to you.

“Uh, your colleagues said you liked this one. Dunno how you work with them though, they sure squeal a lot.”

“Huh they do? Well either way, I can’t accept this bu—“

“You told them not to let me pay for his treats anymore, but I owe you for them. You don’t have the option to refuse right now.” Kei had said it so bluntly that you couldn’t even argue, meekly accepting with another thanks.

You’d actually conversed with him then. You’d found out he was on the Sendai Frogs volleyball team and worked at the museum in the city. In exchange he’d learned about you and your coffee shop, and of course that he’d adopted Rekkusu during his third year of high school at Karasuno. By the end of your break, you felt closer in a way.

Rekkusu didn’t bark at you when they left.

———

From then it seemed whenever you’d seen the pair, Rekkusus’ barks seemed friendlier and his tail wagged upon seeing you. Occasionally he’d pull Tsukishima toward you as you knelt to offer a signature Puppiccino.

“I hate this.”

“I have successfully used the power of Pavlov~”

“It’s called bribery.” Tsuki mockingly interjected.

“Either way, I’m still winning this challenge.”

“Your self-issued challenge. This has nothing to do with me.”

“Luckily your approval doesn’t matter to me, only Rekkusus, isn’t that right boy?” Came your melodious tone, the canine barking excitedly.

“Traitor.” It was muttered begrudgingly, but you continued conversation regardless.

“Good luck with your new exhibition today, if you can please take a picture of it and show me!”

“Instead of making me come back here, would I be able to send it to you by phone?”

“My contact details?” The surprise was obvious, but Kei remained blunt and composed with his usual bit of sarcasm.

“Ideally yeah. Here’s mine.”

Yet, you’d spoken often enough to know about his workplace and vice versa, so you suppose this was the natural next step in friendship.

———

Tsukishima wouldn’t normally bring anyone along to your café but he’d reached a crossroads, a block that he couldn’t surpass without an old teammate it seemed.

“So… why are we here?”

“Because it allows dogs.” Tsukishima breathed, way too nonchalant for even him, which only left Yamaguchi asking further questions.

“Yes, but we’ve always gone for walks.”

“I just need you to see something…” The blonde seethed, holding the door open for his partner to enter.

“Ah hey Tsukishima, Rekkusu~” A gentle pat was given to the fluffy boy with a wagging tail, and only then did he happily whine at you.

“Hi (L/n), this is Yamaguchi. A friend from elementary school.”

The freckled man only waved at you with a bright smile, Tsukishima gave their order and the trio went to be seated.

“Nice to meet a friend of Tsuki.”

“…Tsuki?”

Tsukishima waited until you’d left, then turning his attention to his friend who understood the bewilderment. “So?”

“Rekkusu!” Tsukishima waited expectantly for Yamaguchi to finish. “They pet him… And he didn’t mind!”

“I know.”

“That’s really weird, have you known them long?” The shy man considered carefully, Tsuki flicking from Rekkusu to answer honestly.

“A month or more, I see them nearly everyday in passing but we’ve only spoken properly a few times.”

“Ah… Tsuki do you li—“

“No.”

“Right.” Yamaguchi radiated nonchalance, to the point Kei doubted his own denial, but his friend only looked to the pleased dog as if he portrayed Tsukishimas’ feelings better than the namesake.

“I have (L/n)s’ contact, maybe it’d be worth bringing them to the museum at some point?”

“Maybe, would a walk with Rekkusu be too committing?” Yamaguchi taunted.

“Shut up!”

———

Now you’d never have considered the museum to be daunting but when Tsukishima asked you to meet him here you accepted, currently queuing up for tickets.

“What are you doing (L/n)?”

“Uh- tickets? To get in?”

“Idiot, I work here and you’re my—“ He paused, fingers to the bridge of his nose. “You’re my guest, you can come in with me.”

With a flick of his ID, the two of you were allowed entry, you spent a majority of the day at the museum - Tsukishima particularly enthused when you’d reached the dinosaur exhibits and seemed to be an expert. Must be his specialty.

Another day you’d grabbed takeout coffee from your café and walked Rekkusu through the nearby park.

“Y’know, even though he’s quite standoffish, he’s a really good dog.”

“Yeah, I thought he’d mellow as he aged but he defied my expectations.” Kei admiringly answered, the two of you watching him catch his frisbee midair.

“Hm, Yamaguchi met him as a puppy right? And he’s known you for a while, is that why he calls you Tsuki?”

“Only he’s allowed to call me that.”

“I figured, you might as well call me (Y/n), that’s what my friends tend to do.” Even if you shrugged casually, you still noted the brief flush of colour tinting the blondes ears.

“You can call me Kei then. Fairs fair.”

“Kei huh? I’m honoured.”

“Shut up (Y/n).”

———

Now with these frequent outings to here, there, and everywhere, it came as no surprise when it turned into dating somewhere along the line. Once more, your coworkers squealed at the news - now you knew what Kei was talking about…

Nonetheless, even though it had taken quite a lot of time, Rekkusu had warmed to you as well. This time when Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were out walking his dog, the two weren’t shocked when Rekkusu barked and bounded up to your approaching figure. Basically tackling you the grassy ground as you went to greet him in return.

“He really loves (Y/n), doesn’t he?” Kei has spoken absentmindedly whilst overlooking the scene, a soft smile upon his features.

Yamaguchi stared also, flicking from you and Rekkusu to his best friend in quiet understanding.

“Well, they say Tsuki…” A knowing smile. “That dogs take after their owners.”

“I guess, this one time, they’re right.”

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[tojifile]

Hey, can I make a request for your event?

Fyodor x fem!reader, except he's madly in love with her but doesn't accept it bc he thinks it's useless :)

@Fyodor Dostoevsky . . . (＾-＾)

Tags: smitten!fyodor, fluff, angst if you squint, gn!reader, domestic Fyodor, kinda ooc, vol 14+ doesn’t exist, yandere themes if you get 400+ graded glasses

A/N: Hello anon !! I’m so sorry this took so long, probably 2-4 months (?) I’ve been so busy with school that I just didn’t have time for requests. I’ll treat my fics like those “mafia!dazai who…” type of posts, if that makes sense. I know it’s a big change from my old writing style but I really hope you would still like it :))

smitten!fyodor who met you while walking around Yokohama. He asked you for directions one day and as faith would have it that was the exact place you were going to as well. Although, he didn’t actually need directions, he just wanted to test his skills in deceit.

“Excuse me miss, pardon me for being a bother. Could you please tell me where the nearest train is?” You softly smiled at the gentleman who had gotten your attention. “Of course, I was just heading there myself, you could just follow me if you’d like.”

smitten!fyodor who was fond of the way you spoke to him in such a polite manner. It was endearing to have someone be so courteous (bare minimum, I know).

smitten!fyodor whose voice you couldn’t forget. Softer than silk yet even the sun itself would revolve around its gravity.

smitten!fyodor who “accidentally” bumps into you from time to time. It’s been going on for several months now and during the first few times you jokingly accused him of stalking you.

“Fyodor-san? This is the fourth time this month, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me!” You teased. He responded to your joke with a small chuckle.

smitten!fyodor who denies feeling anything for you since he thinks it would hinder his plans for a better world. He constantly tells himself that it’ll pass, but each day he spends with you feels like a dream.

smitten!fyodor who reassures himself that this was all part of his master plan; that you were just another pawn in his epic chess match with Dazai. Surely someone as simple as you couldn’t destroy his plans, right?

smitten!fyodor who tells himself that keeping you happy is all part of his mission to save the world. When he’s overthinking his actions around you he tells himself that he only keeps you happy because a world where you’re sad confuses and frustrates him—oops, wrong thought!

What frustrates him further is the fact that he can no longer tell himself that you’re just a pawn. He never has internal struggles, so how could you do this to him? For years and years he chased his ideals. He tried to attain the unattainable, he never thought something as simple as affection could be that unattainable thing.

smitten!fyodor who saw you on a date with somebody else and he felt like that was God’s way of telling him that he should continue to fulfill his mission rather than chase someone who clearly doesn’t like him back.

Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

[imtryingbuck]

No Better Than My Husband

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Readers husband is having affairs, so reader does the same

Word count: 1,513

Warnings: Angst and Fluff, swearing? Cheating, Sharon being a bitch. Terrible writing as always.

Masterlist

Y/n’s husband really thought he was being smart about his indiscretions, not that his affairs shocked her, but he truly believed she was some dumb naive housewife due to believing this, he started getting sloppy. At first it pained knowing her husband was entertaining another woman whilst she was at home alone, being nothing but faithful and devoted to him. When his first mistress found out that she wasn’t the only side piece he had she had messaged Y/n all the pictures, videos and messages between the pair, it was meant to hurt her but she already knew her husband was seeing other women behind her back.

The thought had crossed her mind at first to confront him but she knew better, she knew no matter how many tears she showed him he wasn’t going to change. She watched her mum do the exact same thing with Y/n’s dad, he promised her he’d stop and it wasn’t until his untimely death that she had found out that not only was he still seeing the other woman but was engaged to her and the cherry on top was that he had borne a 8 year old son.

So no she wasn’t going to confront him, leaving him to truly believe that his beautiful naive wife didn’t know that when he said he was having a business meeting it was actually him fucking another woman.

However what he didn’t know was that whilst he was having these “business meetings” she was in the arms of another man.

The first time she slept with Bucky she ran to the bathroom to puke up, she felt disgusted, she felt like she was the worst of the worst. The second time she slept with Bucky the guilt was still there but not as strong as before. Now after every time of meeting up with him she didn’t care, she loved the attention he showered her with but most of all she craved just being touched and not necessarily in a sexual manner.

Bucky thought she was truly the most beautiful woman to ever exist, he found out she was married after he gained the confidence to talk to her. The shock and anger he felt was showed on his face when she spoke about her husband’s affairs. Trying to get his head around the idea of how man could have someone like Y/n as a wife just to cheat on her truly baffled him.

Now Bucky lays there trying to catch his breath after spending nearly two hours of happily pleasuring over and over again the goddess that he has the upmost respect for. He knew he was in deep with her, he knew that it wasn’t just sex for him and he hoped that it was the same for her.

Keeping a soft gaze at her ever so slightly trembling form he broke the silence “So I was thinking, don’t give me that look missy, I was thinking about introducing you to my friends? They’ve heard everything about you and they want to meet you but only if your comfortable with that”

“I don’t know Buck, you told me they know I’m married and they probably think the worst of me”

“No baby they don’t, I told them about him and how he’s cheating on you none of them judge you for doing the same”

Shakily sighing “okay but only if your really sure about this”

“Never been more sure beautiful”

They share a kiss which quickly grew more intense. Bucky was more than happy to continue showing her affection and love.

The day had arrived to meet her lovers friends and to say she was nervous was an understatement the thought of them judging her scared her, she knew she wasn’t a bad person she did anything for anyone. Never in a million years did she think that the man who took a vow to love and be faithful to her would break said vow, but here she was five years into marriage her husband betraying her with four women - that she knows of - she was tired of being mocked and treated like a fool so she decided to return the favour. However now she was in too deep, she had fallen in love with Bucky. So she truly hoped his friends didn’t judge her too much.

Bucky had agreed to meet her outside the cafe that was close by the tower, they shared a kiss and made their way to where his friends were. The whole time Bucky was reassuring Y/n that it was going to be okay.

Standing in front of the Avengers was intimidating but when they greeted her happily the nerves that was settled throughout her body melted away. Conversations flowed effortlessly laughs were shared, that was until Sharon spoke up from where she was sat. “So Y/n Bucky says you’re married? At first I was shocked that he could sleep with a married woman but now meeting you I understand”

Y/n felt uncomfortable under Sharons intense gaze, she definitely didn’t like her tone. After shifting to try and get comfortable she finally found her voice “My husband has been cheating on me for a long time, I never intended to do the same but I met Bucky one night and one thing led to another and well now I’m here” ending her sentence with a shy chuckle. Bucky took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting gesture.

“Don’t you feel slightly ashamed of yourself? Because you should”

Not knowing how to reply she just looked down at her clasped hands, of course she felt ashamed of herself, of course she hates herself for being no better than her husband. It was one moment of weakness that if she had to do it all over again, she would. She would do it all over again without a second thought and that, that is what she hated about herself.

The room had fallen into an uncomfortable silence, everyone was pretty annoyed with Sharon for spoiling such a happy time. The looks that were shot at Sharon made Y/n feel like she had done something wrong. She never wanted to cause any problems with the group of friends. A few beats passed when Y/n glanced at her watch then bent down to get her bag and coat that was at her feet, her movements caused Bucky to jump up. “You don’t have to go” 

“I do, I need to get home” turning to the group “it was an absolute pleasure meeting you all, thank you for a great time, bye” Not listening to the protest coming from Bucky and his friends, she walked out the room to the elevators. Bucky had ran inside just before the doors had closed.

“Baby ignore Sharon, she’s just being rude for no reason. I’m sorry” 

“It’s fine Buck. Honestly. I need to let you know now that I’ve finally filed for divorce. I’ve already packed my stuff and moved into an apartment. He’s on a “Business” trip ah. I really feel hard for you Buck, I’m sorry” The shiny doors came open and she all but ran out before Bucky could reply.

Four months had pasted since Y/ns confession in the confined space of the elevator, four months without speak or seeing the super soldier. The messages and phone calls that came from Bucky and her now ex-husband had gone off none stop. The messages from her ex started off with him apologising and begging her to come back, he’ll change. Which turned to him taunting her, blaming her for his actions. When it came to their divorce to be finalised he had showed up with mistress number 4 hanging off his arm, he thought this move would hurt her but all it did was make the judge give her way more money than she originally asked for.

Bucky’s messages consisted of apologies too, along with pleading her to meet him. But was also filled with him telling her he loved her.

One Sunday the rain was pouring down heavily in the late afternoon when a knock on the door startled Y/n, trying to calm her racing heart she made her way to the sound. Opening her door her heart stopped.

“W-what are you doing here Buck? How did you find me?”

“Nat”

“Okay? Still didn’t answer the first question”

Instead of answering her Bucky walked straight up to her, touching her face with freezing and delicate hands he searched her eyes for any reason to pull away. Finding none he moved closer and closer till his cold plumb lips touched hers. Kissing one another always took their breaths away, no matter how many times they’ve done it. Reluctantly pulling away he rested his forehead on hers and smiled.

“Be mine and I’ll be yours” Bucky’s heart was hammering rather hard inside of his chest awaiting her response, and instead of verbally responding she pulled him into the apartment letting him kick the door behind them.

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[7ndipity]

Rainy Day

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Just a soft blurb about looking after Joonie on a rainy afternoon

Warnings: slight angst, comfort, slightly suggestive, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The soft evening light tinted the room with a cool blue hue as you and Namjoon lay on opposite ends of the sofa reading, your legs overlapping and tangling with his. The soothing patter of the rain outside threatened to lull you to sleep more than once as you tried to focus on the page in front of you, the words blurring slightly as your mind began to drift.

A quiet sigh from Joon however pulled you out of your dozing state.

It wasn’t the first sigh to leave him that evening, furthering your suspicions that something was on his mind as you glanced over at him curiously, taking note of the crease between his brows.

“You okay?” You asked gently.

“Yeah.” He said, still staring at the book in his hand, but you could see the set of his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Are you sure?” You asked gently. “Cause I’m pretty sure you’ve been on the same page for the past ten minutes.”

He sighed again.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, closing the book and setting it aside, lying back against the arm of the sofa as he stared at the ceiling. “I’m just tired, but I also can’t get my mind to shut off, you know?”

You nodded.

You’d noticed how hard he’d been working lately, he always wanted to give his best, for his fans, for his other group members, but with his album release quickly approaching, He’d been spending nearly all his time in the company, coming home late and then barely sleeping for more than a handful of hours before slipping out the door again in morning.

He’d tried to hide his stress and fatigue from you, but you’d known him long enough to spot the signs, both obvious and subtle.

You had noticed the sluggish drag in his step, the dark circles under his eyes, the anxious bounce in his leg as he talked.

“I just keep thinking of all the things I have to get done for the album, all the people that are relying on me,” He continued. “I just don’t want to let them down.”

“You won’t let anyone down, I have faith in you.” You said reassuringly.

“This album was so much harder to write than the last one, what if I’m starting to lose my edge?” He asked quietly, almost to himself.

“Not possible.” You said with certainty. “You are an amazing songwriter, this album being more difficult doesn’t say anything about your talent or ability.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” You replied. “You never fail to stun me with your work.”

He nodded, letting his eyes fall shut as he leaned back against the couch arm, but you could tell he was still unsettled by the tense square of his shoulders.

Struck with an idea, you moved carefully to straddle his hips, causing his eyes to flick open in surprise.

“Y/n, what are-?”

“Shh, just relax.” You breathed, kissing him softly as you began to gently massage his shoulders.

His hands came up instinctively to steady you by the waist, letting out a soft groan of satisfaction, slowly melting under your touch.

You continued to work his wide shoulders, feeling the tense muscles beneath your fingers begin to relax, soft sounds of relief slipping from his throat, only to be swallowed by you as you slowly kissed him again.

You felt his hips twitch slightly beneath you, but you didn’t return the action, keeping your own hips firmly planted. Your goal tonight wasn’t to get him off, there would be time for that later.

Your only goal at the moment was to help him relax and calm his mind.

By the time you pulled away from him, he was absolute putty beneath you, eyes drooping heavily with sleep.

“Feel better?” You asked with a small grin.

“Mhm.” He hummed, sitting up and wrapping his arms around you, keeping you pressed close.

“Thank you. I know I’ve been distant recently with all of this, but I want you to know how much I appreciate you looking out for me. I am so thankful for you and everything you do.”

“I will always look after you.” You said, pressing your lips to his again. “For now though, you need sleep.”

You moved to pull away so you could stand up, but Joon kept his arms locked tightly around you.

“Stay,” He murmured against your hair, laying back down against the couch arm and pulling you down on top of him. “Wanna hold you.”

Your heart melted at his soft demeanor. “Okay.”

Almost as soon as you were both settled, he was out like a light, his hold loosening slightly but never dropping from your waist.

You soon felt yourself beginning to drift off as well, listening to the slow steady beat of his heart.

“I love you Joonie.” You mumbled softly.

You knew you couldn’t fix the things that bothered him, or make them go away, but you both knew that everything would be ok, so long as you had each other to lean on.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[kurishiri]

both ends clear . . . “ a convenient, happy ‘reality’ ”

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— 🤍 both ends cleared story for alfons. this is all told in his point of view.

— cw: alcohol consumption, invasion of personal space, awkwardly translated smut; you know the drill!

—— Alfons’ POV ——

—— Flashback ——

Having thought it would be infinitely better to die on the roadside, I had left the orphanage. And on that day,

a cat was crying in an alley.

That day, my lips got cut after a beating, so I still had dried bread that was handed to me in my pocket...

Alfons: ...Want some?

When I offered the bread, the cat slowly crept toward me, and then nibbled on the bread.

Alfons: ...You want to live that much?

A: Even though this reality isn’t even kind to you...

The kitten didn’t utter a sound, only continuing to eat.

Albeit foolishly and miserably so, it tried its very hardest to live.

Alfons: And if you want to live that badly... I guess I better help you then.

—— End flashback ——

Kate: I-I overslept again——!

Alfons: Ahha! First thing in the morning and you’re in ever high spirits, I see.

Still nude, Kate’s complexion paled as soon as she woke up. At this point, I’ve seen this so often one hand was hardly enough to count.

Alfons: Now now, why so bent on this? It’s not as though you are going to die.

A: I’m more than positive that if you apologize with all your heart, you’ll be let off the hook.

Kate: Wh—you do know this is your fault, don’t you!?

K: I even told you yesterday that I had a promise to keep so I needed to get up early today, and yet...

Alfons: And yet we did such naughty things, and it escalated to the point you ended up crying out, no?

Kate: ...!

Rendered speechless, she turned away and got off the bed,

and she pulled her clothes, standing ready in this room’s closet, and began to change.

Alfons: Goodness, what a cruel one you are, Kate, leaving your lover behind on the bed for a promise you made with another man.

A: Since when have you become so wicked, I wonder?

While sprawled on the bed, I placed my elbow on the pillow and looked on at Kate, whose lips were in a pout.

Kate: Well, I promised I was going to go and get the photo I took of you before,

K: so there’s really nothing going on I would feel guilty about.

Alfons: Hehe... there’s no need to deny it so vehemently; I assure you I know. After all, you——

Kate: ...I what?

Alfons: ——Well, your body just can’t bear it unless it’s with me, you see.

Kate: ...I was a fool to even ask in earnest. I’ll be going now.

Alfons: Yes, yes, have a good time. Ahh, and I think I will be coming back late.

Kate: Ah——that’s right, today... you have a mission, don’t you? Be careful and come back safely, alright?

Alfons: Worry not, for unlike a certain someone I am quite faithful.

Kate: That’s not what I meant...

K: If you go out of your way to get hurt and whatnot, I’ll... I’ll punish you...!

Kate’s face reddened as she declared this before turning and leaving the room.

(...‘Punish,’ she says...) (O_O)

Alfons: Pfft, ahahaha!

A: Ahh... dear me, what darling words.

A: Indeed, why are Kate’s parting threats always so cute like this, I wonder.

(Like how alcohol and staying up late was bad for the body, or how if I got hurt she would punish me...)

For threats those words were much too kind, and it was quite amusing to say the least.

The reason she was going out, and her worry, I knew they were all for my sake.

And yet, that heroic side of her, as astounding as it was, was so cute, I couldn’t help but be a little mean and tease her a bit: call it a bad habit of mine.

(Such a troublesome way of caring, and yet it’s the only way I know how. And perhaps, I may someday run out of love.)

My heart, long used to throwing away any notion of hope, still whispered to ‘let it become that way.’

But every time that happened, I would hear Kate’s voice in my mind.

——It won’t turn out that way!

(The Kate in my mind would never leave me behind.)

That was my convenient delusion.

And, to me, my happy illusion.

—— Time skip ——

(Now then... what sort of interesting things is the little robin up to now?)

When I had returned to the castle after the mission, I was told by Elbie that Kate had gone to the pub.

—— Flashback ——

Alfons: Why again, so late at night?

Elbert: Because when your missions end late, you often go to the pub.

E: So, Kate said that she would wait there...

—— End flashback ——

(There is no such person in that pub who would leave a woman there so late at night alone.)

I went down the familiar staircase and slipped into the lively pub——and as expected, Kate was being pressed by a ‘friend.’

Black-haired young man: Don’t be so stuck up now. How about we two lonely people get along and have a drink?

Kate: I’ll pass. Besides, I’m not really lonely.

Like a prideful cat, she had her face turned,

but perhaps in an effort to swallow her displeasure and fear, Kate’s hold on her glass tightened.

Black-haired young man: You waitin’ for Al? Not like you made any promise with him, right?

Black-haired young man: Leave him be. He’s a good-for-nothing who doesn’t have an ounce of love in him, you know?

(A good-for-nothing without an ounce of love... indeed, if one were to ask about me at this pub,)

(not a single person would answer with something other than that, I reckon.)

While I counted the words in the repertoire of words that were used as insults against me in my mind——

Kate, for the first time, turned toward the ‘friend’ at last.

Kate: I won’t deny that Alfons is the lowest of the low, with no morals or ethics to speak of, and a good-for-nothing,

K: but he does have much more than an ounce of love.

(...) (O_O)

Black-haired young man: Pfft, hahaha! A woman who’s so easily fooled like you doesn’t come around every day either. ...But in all seriousness, you really should let him go.

Black-haired young man: He’ll make a mess of your life, and it’ll be too late to regret anything after you’ve been through it.

My ‘friend’——Craig looked at Kate with narrowed eyes, slightly saddened, as though he was seeing someone else in her,

and he quietly reached out for those shoulders.

Alfons: You sure like getting hands on with others, don’t you.

Craig: Whoa—!?

Just before his hands touched her shoulder, I stopped him with my palm,

and Craig practically flew out of his counter chair.

Kate: Alfons!?

Craig: W-what the... what’s the big deal? Not like you ever had a special someone before.

C: So this time wouldn’t be any different from a whim of a relationship before fading right out, right?

Kate: ...

For a moment, Kate’s expression wavered with a bit of sadness.

Seeing that left a bad taste in me, and before I could think, my mouth moved first.

Alfons: ——Why, I beg to differ?

A: She’s such a darling toy, one I could hardly leave behind. After all, I very much am one with much more than an ounce of love.

Kate: ...!

Alfons: But putting that aside, Craig,

Craig: ...What is it?

Alfons: At least on the anniversary of your wife’s passing, I hope you may spend the rest of this night in a good mood.

I removed his gloves, and then gently touched the back of his neck.

Alfons: ——Tonight, shut yourself out those self-condemning notions, and go to sleep back home after another drink.

A: “And perhaps, you may see a nostalgic dream, rivaled by none other.”

—— Time skip: night city ——

Alfons: Goodness, to think you would go out to play at night and seduce another man... you naughty one, you.

Kate: No, it’s not that! I was thinking you might come by here, so I was waiting for you.

K: Like, maybe you would come for a drink after a mission so you wouldn’t feel as weary and whatnot.

K: And I wanted to be there too, if possible...

Alfons: None the more noble, I see,

A: as your partner is a man who gets told things like how ‘this is on a whim before fading right out.’

Kate: But I don’t think that.

Alfons: Even though you seemed rather saddened for a moment back there?

Kate: That... is because, I thought how even among your friend circle, there are those that misunderstand you.

Alfons: Aha, but it’s not a misunderstanding? I really am someone who will turn down nobody who comes to me, nor will I chase after anyone who leaves.

A: For you see, I’m but a piece of trash who would fade right out if things become troublesome.

Kate: But the people you spend time with are always those that are suffering, right?

K: So, even when you ‘fade right out,’ that is also for other people’s sake, isn’t it?

K: I can’t think of that as loveless. After all...

K: What else could the feeling of wanting to help others be called, if not love?

Alfons: ......... (O_O)

—— Flashback ——

Alfons: And if you want to live that badly... I guess I better help you then.

—— End flashback ——

If her words really were true...

Then what I had felt at that time was ‘love’——at least, that may be the case.

A single word from her was enough to make such a convenient interpretation feel like reality.

Kate: Before, I was really happy. When you said straight up how you wouldn’t leave me.

K: And the fact how, after that, you showed Craig an illusion...

K: In the end, I really do love you, Alfons.

Instead of falling out of love, she said such a thing with a casual smile.

(...To think that, more than this happy illusion in my mind and whatnot,)

(the Kate in reality is so much more convenient to me...)

Alfons: ...You are just full of surprises, aren’t you.

Kate: Huh? What was that?

Alfons: Goodness, you weren’t listening?

A: I said that tonight we’re going to do so many naughty things you won’t know what’s what anymore.

—— Time skip: Alfons’ room ——

Kate: Ahh...

Like a cat, Kate’s waist was lifted as she lied face down on the bed,

and when I pulled away from her, she jumped a little.

After climaxing again, she shivered at the lingering sound of her wet entrance.

When I inserted a finger in that stirred up area, she lowered her hips as though becoming frightened.

Kate: N-no more...

Alfons: Really? Because the inside of you seems to think otherwise around my fingers. ...See.

Kate: no, I—ah, ahh——

While kneading the swollen bud with my thumb, I moved my two fingers inside.

I went for the place she loved the most, where she squeezed my fingers, and together with a lewd sound, she squirted.

Alfons: Hehe... to think teasing you just a little was enough to make you come, your body has become quite the naughty thing, hasn’t it.

Kate: I... I wanted to look at the photo... together with you though...

The envelope she received, which contained the photo that had just been processed,

was left unopened on the side table.

Alfons: You can look at photos at any time... so how about looking at the real me here?

Kate: ...ngh... uh...?

I took her limp wrists and pulled her up,

And Kate, her eyes seeming to melt with intoxication, went along with being pulled.

(As usual, she’s quite defenseless, isn’t she...)

When would she realize that shaking her head the moment she finally realized that the place she was taken to was in front of the mirror

would have the opposite effect, I wonder?

My hand made its way behind her knee before lifting her leg up.

Kate: no... ah...

Alfons: See now, look here, won’t you. ...So that you won’t ever forget.

Kate: ...!

When I murmured those words, Kate tried to bear any sense of shame she had.

Alfons: How lewd it feels with my cock in your mouth.

Kate: hah... haa... ah, ahh——

Alfons: ...And also,

A: in what ways I love you.

Not wanting to forget me even after I died, she would record me,

and look straight forward while pushing down her embarrassment, engraving them into her memory.

(Kate, truly, what a pitiable, darling soul you are.)

(All that effort, even when I have no intention of dying before you.)

But, I had no intention of saying that to her either. In all likeliness, it would remain my secret for the rest of this lifetime.

(After all, seeing how your mind is filled to the brim with me, and how hard-working you are, brings me no end of amusement.)

(And, even if you were to find out this secret of mine——)

(I’m sure you would be exasperated and angry, but still you would love me after that.)

This may not necessarily amount to a convenient delusion,

but those teary eyes that looked at me through the mirror let me think that.

After we indeed felt so good we didn’t know what was what anymore,

Kate fell asleep, with me holding her. And suddenly, I felt a nostalgic rush from the silence of the night.

I remembered that very night, when I had fallen asleep while holding a small warmth I had found in an alley.

That was the first night I had ever felt such serenity in the silence.

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️

NOTE: thank you to everyone who has kept up with this translation and supported me (especially those who have commented or reblogged)! it means the world to me and makes these more-than-two-months worth it if you enjoyed it 🥹🫶 i plan to translate his side stories as well if i can, though they may be out of order.

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!

[ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen]

Acting Class

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀᴜꜱᴛɪɴ ʙᴜᴛʟᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛꜱ ᴀꜱ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ?, ᴏɴᴇ ᴋɪꜱꜱ…

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴀᴜꜱᴛɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʏ/ɴ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴜꜱᴛɪɴ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ. ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ… ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴀɪɴɪɴɢ

a/n - i'm well aware this is the first post in AWHILE but, I was just thinking of this the other day after seeing an Insta Reel. Also should I continue the I Cannot Stand You Series? not my giff

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

The acting class was buzzing with energy, the kind of chaos that only improv exercises could create. Y/N and Austin sat off to the side, laughing as a fellow classmate dramatically threw themselves into a fake faint.

“Alright, next pair!” the instructor called out. “Austin, Y/N—you’re up!”

“Oh no,” Y/N groaned, shooting Austin a mock glare. “You better not mess this up.”

Austin smirked, already on his feet and extending a hand to her. “Mess up? Y/N, have a little faith. I’m the king of improv.”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, letting him pull her to her feet.

The instructor waved a hand at them. “Your prompt is conflict. Hospital setting. One of you is a doctor, the other is a patient who doesn’t want to hear bad news. No script. Just go.”

They exchanged a quick look, and Y/N took the patient’s chair, slouching dramatically as if already defeated. Austin stood over her, arms crossed, slipping effortlessly into a concerned yet firm demeanor.

“Miss L/N,” he started, voice pitched low and serious. “The test results are in, and we need to talk.”

Y/N groaned, waving him off. “I’m fine, Doc. It’s probably just a cold. Or allergies. Or—I don’t know—a bad horoscope day.”

Austin pressed his lips into a thin line, already fighting a smile. “This isn’t a joke. If you don’t take this seriously, things could get worse.”

She sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing. “Why does everyone think they know what’s best for me? You’re not my keeper, Doc!”

“I’m trying to help you!” he snapped back, his voice rising just enough to sound genuine. “But you won’t listen to me!”

“Because I don’t want to hear it!” she shot back, standing up and invading his space, her face inches from his.

The room went silent, the other students leaning in as the tension between them thickened. Y/N’s breathing was fast, her chest rising and falling as she glared up at him.

And then, before she could think, she grabbed his face and kissed him.

The class collectively gasped, followed by bursts of laughter and applause. Austin froze, his hands hovering in the air as his brain struggled to catch up.

But then, like a switch flipping, he softened into the kiss. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, and for a fleeting moment, the world around them disappeared.

When Y/N pulled back, her eyes wide with realization, her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my God. I—I didn’t—”

She turned sharply, muttering a quick “sorry,” and made a beeline for the door, her face burning with embarrassment.

But Austin wasn’t about to let her leave. With a burst of speed, he vaulted over a nearby table, earning cheers and laughter from the class. He stumbled slightly but recovered, skidding to a stop in front of her.

“Wait!” he said, his voice breathless but steady.

She froze, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. “Austin, I—I didn’t mean to—”

“You kissed me,” he said simply, his voice quieter now.

“It was the scene,” she blurted out, her words rushed.

“Was it?” he asked, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N's silence was all the confirmation he needed. His smile softened, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “For the record, I liked it.”

Her jaw dropped, but before she could respond, the instructor called out from across the room, “Alright, break it up, you two lovebirds! Great scene!”

The class roared with laughter and applause, but Y/N and Austin just stood there, locked in each other’s gaze. As they returned to their seats, her cheeks still flaming, Austin leaned over and whispered, “We might need to rehearse that one later.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she managed to roll her eyes and nudge him with her elbow. Still, she couldn’t shake the way his smile lingered—and the way her lips still tingled from his.