#so much lovely new greenery last year

[mizgnomer]

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day (with David Tennant)

[sincerelyyuu]

"in the end, it's still you." p3. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after you made your decision to leave your jujutsu sorcerer life behind, you find yourself longing for what once was and risking more than what you bargained for. ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warnings: sfw, endless amounts of angst, sprinkles of fluff, heavy jujutsu kaisen 0 film spoilers, heartbreak, regret, unrequited love, death, blood, pet names, sorcerer!reader ➼ wc: 5.4K words ➼ a/n: this is the final part of this little angst series of mine. thank you so much to everyone for the amount of love you've given these three. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

Today was the day.  Suguru had coined it as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons where he intended on releasing thousands of curses across Japan, focusing the epicenters of the attack in Shinjuku and Kyoto.

To say that your life had drastically changed over the last few years would be an understatement. Finding refuge in a grand temple located far away from the eyes of Tokyo, Suguru built himself a cult following. He spent his days collecting money from his loyal followers while also exorcising curses from non-sorcerers who sought him out, deeming him as a god for his “cleansing” talents.

Within this time, your days were simpler. Instead of waking up to the dread of having to fight curse after curse, you spent your time focusing on the little things that brought you joy. You started a little garden that was lush with a variety of flowers and greenery. Thanks to the seclusion of your new home, it made stargazing look something straight out of a fantasy, the night sky always twinkling with millions of stars. With all the extra time, you had many opportunities to curl up with a good book without having to worry about another mission.

Since that fateful night in the village, Nanako and Mimiko became attached to your hip. You became the mother figure they’ve always dreamt of. You loved the girls like your own, spending the majority of your time nurturing them from toddlerhood into the beautiful teens they were now. You were living the simple life you envisioned back in your teen years. 

You knew when you left your old life behind that life would be different. Change was inevitable. You just didn’t expect for it to manifest in the man you ran away with.

Suguru took care of you exceptionally well. He made sure you were well fed and gifted you with the prettiest clothes, occasionally leaving small tokens of appreciation for you for embarking on this journey with him. Whatever you heart desired, it was in your hands no sooner than you can think of it. More importantly, no matter how busy he was, he always found time to keep you company. You, as well as the twins, remained his main priority. His beautiful girls.

You watched Suguru slowly become consumed with the idea of jujutsu sorcerers being the superior race. On the outside, he put up an amiable persona in front of normal humans who came to him for guidance in order to collect their curses. On the inside, he loathed their very existence, finding their presence alone to be unbearable and swearing they filled the air surrounding him with a disgusting stench. 

Monkeys, he would call them. You hated the term. 

He had come to you in the kitchen one day with the biggest grin on his face. It was the happiest you’ve ever seen him in your entire time of knowing him. Pouring yourself a glass of water from the faucet, you leaned your back against the edge of the sink in interest.

“The time has finally come!” he proclaimed as he walked up to you, hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity. “And what time may that be?”

“My sources tell me that there is an interesting first year student by the name of Okkotsu Yuta at Tokyo High. He is cursed by a special grade spirit by the name of Orimoto Rika,” Suguru goes on to explain.

You felt an unsettling feeling in your stomach, not liking where this conversation was going. You hummed in response and raised the glass to your lips which he took as his cue to go on.

“I plan on retrieving her. The power she holds is the exact thing we need to put an end to every non-sorcerer in existence,” he sighed happily at what he believed was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Frowning, you replied, “...And how exactly do you plan to do that, Sugu?”

“By killing anyone that gets in my way starting with Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

The glass of water immediately slipped from your hands, seconds away from shattering onto the floor if not for Suguru’s incredible reflexes. Placing the still full cup on the counter, he observed the immense shock displayed in your eyes at his declaration. You wished that he was just pulling your leg and that he wasn’t really considering taking on such a risky and incredibly dangerous task. But a man of his word, you knew better than anyone that when Suguru said anything, he truly meant it.

“Geto Suguru,” his name leaving your lips in a slow drawl, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Leaning against the counter next to you, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought. “It’s simple really. I will unleash the thousands of curses that I’ve meticulously collected over this past decade into the city. Two cities, in fact. While they send their forces to try and save as many pathetic monkeys as they can, I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

The more you listened to him explain in detail his plan, the more you found yourself looking at a complete stranger. This couldn’t possibly be the kind Suguru that you’ve known throughout your teens and entire twenties. 

Had you really known him at all?

The incredulous look of concern and flash of fear across your face must have been hard to take in because Suguru’s demeanor immediately took on a more serious stance. 

“(y/n),” he started to say your name and reached for your hand. This time, it was his turn to be shocked when you immediately yanked your hand away from his as if his touch burned you. 

“Don’t,” you demand, taking a step away from him as you felt your blood begin to boil. “What the hell, Suguru?”

The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at your hostile reaction, “I had a feeling you’d react like this.”

You scoffed at his reply, “Did you honestly expect for me to just be peachy about this idea? You’re talking about murdering millions of people! This isn’t what I agreed to when I decided to go on the run with you.”

“I was very upfront with you about my goals. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is something new,” Suguru argued, not liking the tone of your voice. “You made the big girl decision to come with me. Don’t tell me you’re regretting it now?”

You clenched your jaw at his audacity. “You didn’t give me a choice! I’m not the one who decided to go on a murderous killing spree at seventeen on a mission we were both assigned to,” you retorted in exasperation.

“But I stayed with you because I care about you, Suguru. If I didn’t, why would I leave my entire life behind to be here with you now?” you asked, feeling the anger in your veins shift to deep hurt. “You forget that I sacrificed a lot, too. Excuse me if I don’t agree with every choice you make along the way, especially this one.”

Running his hand through his dark locks, Suguru exhaled deeply. He rarely fought with you and he hated every minute you were anything less than happy with him. He angled his body to face you once more and placed his strong hands on your shoulders. When you didn’t instantly pull away from him, he tugged you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I didn't forget how much you’ve sacrificed to be with me and I’m eternally grateful every day I see your face. I know this situation hasn’t been completely fair for you and I only have myself to blame for that,” he apologized sincerely.

“That being said, I’ve made my final decision. I won’t ask you to fight on the front lines nor do I expect you to do anything you don’t want to. You can stay here without needing to get involved or lift a finger. The decision is yours.”

Back to the present, you couldn’t shake the premonition that something really bad was going to happen. Your anxiety in your heart refused to dissipate with the uncertainty of what's to come looming over you. You hated this. You hated how this is what it all came down to. 

You made it clear to Suguru that you weren’t going to take any innocent lives. However, you refused to sit still and play the waiting game while everyone was out fighting for their lives. Naturally, you set your heart on protecting your girls.

“Nanako, Mimiko,” you said to your phone via video chat, “Are you girls doing okay?”

“Everything is good so far, (y/n)-sama,” Nanako replied back and adjusted her phone so that she and her sister fit into one frame. “Where are you? Geto-sama said you’d be here.”

You responded, “I’m here. Just standing out of sight but still keeping an eye on you.”

Standing atop of some miscellaneous office building, you observed the large curse that housed the twins safely inside its mouth. You focused on manipulating your cursed energy to lower it to extreme minute levels in order to hide your presence, blending it with the large amount of cursed energy permeating in the air. Doing so made it difficult to pinpoint your exact location. 

“How come you aren’t here directly with us?” Mimiko questioned, feeling slightly anxious but relieved to see your face even if it was through a screen.

You paused, taking a few seconds to think before answering carefully, “It’s complicated.”

How do you exactly tell them that the reason you were hiding to begin with was because you were hiding from the man of the hour?

Gojo Satoru.

You would be lying if you said a part of you didn’t long to see him. You did everything in your power to cut all ties with the strongest sorcerer a decade ago, although it hurt more than anything. You didn’t know if you could ever face him again, especially not now considering the circumstances with Suguru’s plot. 

Did he even want to see you?

A pair of sweet voices called out to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking back at your phone, you saw the looks of anticipation on the twins’ faces.

“Sorry, what did you girls say?” you sheepishly asked.

Nanako pouted adorably, repeating their question, “We asked if we could go to that crepe shop on Takeshita Street with you. Geto-sama promised he’d take us last time but it was closed by the time we got there.”

Chuckling, you nodded to their request. “Of course. When this is all over, we’ll take a girls trip together.”

“Promise?” they said in unison, holding their pinkies up to the screen.

You held your own pinky up and lightly tapped it against your phone. “I promise.”

On the other end, you heard Nanako’s notification sound go off. “They said they’re stepping up the plan and telling us to engage,” she informed you.

Biting your lip in apprehension, you sighed. “Please be careful, you two. Do not hesitate to call me immediately if something happens. Do you understand? I'll catch up with you in a few.”

The pair nodded, holding up their pinkies for emphasis promising you of their safety. Just as you were about to hang up the call, their soft voices caught your ears.

“(y/n)-sama?”

“Yes, my loves?” you answered with concern in your eyes watching them fidget nervously.

“I love you.”

You felt your heart squeeze at the declaration, warmth spreading in your chest as you smiled fondly at the two. They looked at you shyly with pink cheeks looking slightly embarrassed after voicing their affection together. When did they grow up so fast from the little five year olds they once were when you first met them?

“I love you, too. Both of you. See you soon,” you reciprocated, blowing a kiss to the camera.

The twins mirrored the gesture before hanging up. Focusing your eyes back to the curse they were inside, its mouth opened to reveal your precious girls. You waved goodbye to them despite them not being able to see you. Just as you were about to trail them, that unsettling feeling increased tenfold in your stomach. Something was wrong. 

Suguru.

You dialed his number on your phone, pressing it to your ear only for the call to go straight to voicemail. This only made your anxiety worse. He never missed a call from you. Wracking your brain on where he could be, his previous words echoed in your mind.

“I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

Cursing under your breath, your legs began moving on their own.

Run faster.

You repeated the two words in your head like a mantra as you weaved through alleyways and every shortcut you could remember. Your lungs burned with the intensity of it demanding oxygen, but you refused to slow down the pace of your sprint. You were determined to make it back to Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You had to make it to Suguru.

Scanning the black veil that you knew Suguru had casted over the school, you managed to locate a hole that was made by something, or rather someone, else. Slipping through the opening, you finally stepped foot onto the grounds that you once called your home. You hurriedly followed the trails of blood and wreckage of what looked to be the after effects of a lethal fight. 

You nearly collapsed as you felt the ground quake beneath your feet, the force of it catching you off guard. The air felt electrified with the sheer amount of cursed energy surrounding you. It terrified you. Despite your fear, you steeled yourself and ran towards where you felt the cursed energy was strongest. 

Careening around another corner, you were relieved to see the backside of the man you were searching for. However, your relief was short-lived when you looked just beyond his figure down the path to see a young teenage boy. 

There was no mistaking him as Okkotsu Yuta with his special grade curse Rika suspended beside him protectively and looking every bit as deadly as you heard. He was exchanging words with her that you couldn’t hear from where you stood. You saw the way Yuta  intimately held her monstrous frame close to his face. The interaction was so full of tenderness and devotion, the kind that would risk it all in the name of love.

But that’s when you realized what was happening. He was sacrificing himself to Rika to release the limit on her cursed energy.

Hearing Rika passionately declare her love for Yuta, you looked in horror as she began gathering all of her raw cursed energy in full force. Flashes of purple and pink coalesced into one massive deadly black orb, a symbol of Rika’s eternal love for him.

And it was aimed directly at Suguru.

“SUGURU!”

You didn’t even hear yourself scream for him, your voice coming out in terror-stricken screech. It was like your body went into overdrive. In your moment of panic, you didn’t have time to think or feel, only running towards him with your heart beating loudly in your ears. 

For Suguru, it all happened so quickly. 

The moment he heard your voice, he whipped his head to you with eyes widened in alarm. You weren’t supposed to be here. He needed to figure out a way to get you as far away as possible from Rika. 

Time almost stopped for the next few seconds.

There was a flash and a strong hand that shoved Suguru’s body back from where he was positioned. A waft of a familiar perfume. The feeling of soft tresses tickling his cheek. A blinding blue glow. He realized too late that it was you moving at an supersonic speed to stand in front of him, safeguarding him as you channeled all of your cursed energy to brace and harden your body for impact.

Then, Rika charged.

Destruction. Suguru’s curses were no match to the power of Rika’s concentrated cursed energy beam. Her attack left devastation in its wake, buildings blown down to their bare infrastructures, dust and debris clouding the pinkened sky, and a deep crater of the battlefield permanently indented into the ground.

For a moment, all you felt was searing pain enveloping your body. You didn’t even register the way Suguru seized you by the waist, jerking you away as he made a narrow escape with you just a second away from death’s door. Your vision faded to black as you closed your eyes.

When you next opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the back of Suguru’s head. He was carrying you on his back, your arms around his neck and your body swaying in small jerky motions as he limped down the pathway with growing difficulty.

Good. He had made it, you thought to yourself in ease.

‘Made it’ was an understatement. The man was officially missing his entire right arm, the same arm he used to safely pull you away from Rika. Long black hair haphazardly let down, black yukata torn in half to reveal his bare toned torso, right eye swollen shut. He was lucky to have gotten away with just this. 

He was only this lucky because of you. You had taken Rika’s attack head on. Even with you using your cursed energy as a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop the negative repercussions. Your injuries were severe. The strength of Rika’s blow left a gaping hole in the center of your chest a hair’s away from your heart, feeling sharp pains with every shallow breath you took. You could feel yourself bleeding out onto Suguru’s back, soaking his robe with crimson. Unable to feel any sensations in your legs, you suspected you were paralyzed from the waist down. 

“Suguru,” your raspy voice croaked out.

“You finally opened those eyes, pretty girl. You had me worried for a moment there,” Suguru chuckled quietly.

The two of you fell into a calm silence, only the sounds of Suguru’s footsteps and your ragged breathing to be heard. You wanted to ask him so many questions. Where did Yuta and Rika go? What happens now? No matter how hard you tried to focus on moving your mouth you simply couldn’t, not having the strength to do so. Suguru was the first to break the silence.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly. His haggard face looked absolutely spent with his voice coming out no louder than a murmur. Only loud enough just for you to hear the regret and guilt in his speech.

You chuckled weakly, “Can you really say you were surprised?”

Suguru sighed in defeat, “I suppose not. Although I would have preferred if you had stayed with our girls. Now look at you.”

“That’s not very ‘Thank you for saving my life’ of you, Sugu,” you huffed, gently pinching his cheek in retaliation causing him to laugh lightly.

You felt your heart swell seeing Suguru smile and banter with you so freely. It reminded you of your earlier days back in high school when it was just you, him, and Satoru.

Satoru.

As you leaned your head on Suguru’s good shoulder, your mind drifted to the snowy haired man. It always did. You often wondered if he had changed much since you last saw him. Was he still that confident man that would give his all for the world? The same man that would have burned the world for you? What would your life be like if you had decided to go back to him that day in Shinjuku? So many questions that you would never have answers for. You knew that when you left Satoru that day, you had left your heart with him too. 

If only you had the chance to tell him you loved him in person.

Feeling something rise in your chest, you were only able to squeeze Suguru’s shoulder in warning before you leaned to the side to vomit blood, the bodily fluid coming out in a viscous consistency. By the time you were done, you felt extremely weak. Your head felt fuzzy and the severe pain in your chest was beginning to subside the more you bled out. 

“I’m dying, Suguru.”

Suguru’s grip on you faltered for a quick second before hoisting you upright on his back once more. He already knew it. He knew you were dying by the faraway look in your eyes and the way you could barely keep them open. You were losing too much blood too quickly. He had exhausted his cursed energy supply on Rika, only having the physical energy to carry you through pure willpower.

“Do you regret running away with me now?” he asks solemnly, slowing his pace down to not rock you too much.

You shook your head, “I don’t. I promised you that I would be there for you until the end.”

“Thank you for keeping your promise,” he expressed genuinely.

When you didn’t say anything else, he turned his head slightly to see you with your eyes closed. He momentarily panicked before he was consoled by the rise and fall of your back that indicated you were still here.

“(y/n)?” he calls, looking straight ahead and walking with no real destination in mind. You hummed in response to let him know you were listening.

“I love you.”

Despite living the last ten years of his life with you, this was the first time he had verbally expressed those three words to you, opting to show his affections for you through actions. But in your dying moments, he needed you to hear just how much he loved you, even if he knew you would never say them back the same way he meant it.

“I know. I always knew,” You smiled guiltily. “I do love you, Suguru. You’re always going to be my best friend. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate your feelings no matter how hard I tried.”

Suguru nudged his head against yours in a comforting manner. He whispered, “It’s okay. I still love you regardless.”

Feeling exhaustion settle in your bones, you could barely fight the growing heaviness of your eye lids and a sense of calm lulling your senses. Resting your chin on Suguru’s shoulder, he felt your faint breath fan against his neck.

“Sugu,” the nickname sounding so painfully loving on your lips, “I’m sleepy.”

Suguru couldn’t bring himself to watch you die, staring straight ahead so you wouldn’t see the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Sleep, baby. I got you.”

With that, your eyes closed as you took your last breath, your arms around his neck slipping to fall at his sides.

Trudging down the narrow alleyway, Suguru shifted your frame to his front in order to rest your head against his hard chest. Your body was still warm as Suguru held you tighter against him, albeit a bit awkwardly considering the effects of the battle left him with only one arm. You looked so peaceful. If anyone didn’t know any better, they would have assumed you were just in a deep sleep. Only, you were forever in a dream that you would never wake up from. 

Suguru felt like a failure. Despite his elaborate plan, he was unsuccessful in securing the special grade curse Rika from Okkotsu Yuta. Experiencing her power first hand, she was truly extraordinary. If he had gotten her, there would be no need to sneak around swallowing curses. He would have had the power to change the world like he wanted.

You wouldn’t have had to die for him.

If only he had a little more time. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Suguru smiled at the familiar presence. With great effort, Suguru carefully lowered you and himself against the wall and held you close.

“You’re late, Satoru,” he announced, his words devoid of any real malice. “To think you’d be the one here at my end. Is my family safe?

“Every last one of them managed to escape,” the special grade sorcerer replied in monotone.

Except you. Satoru took in your lifeless form that was brutally beaten and bloodied by what he assumed was the aftermath of Rika. Your hair was longer than when he last saw you in Shinjuku ten years ago. Your delicate hands that used to hold onto his so dearly were now battered. Bruises adorned your face, crimson from your wounds beginning to dry against your skin.  Even after all these years of not seeing you, even in this state, you were still beautiful to him.

“Unlike you, I’m a kind man. You sent those two assuming I’d defeat them, didn’t you? To set Okkotsu off?” Suguru questioned the male, referring to the panda and cursed speech user.

Satoru answered, “I trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.”

Suguru tiredly smiled at his words. “Trust, huh? I didn’t think I still had any of that left.”

Gaze hardening, Satoru coldly responded, “I also trusted you to keep her safe.”

He knew he was being hypocritical. He spent years trying to seek you out and to bring you home. Once he did, he even considered quitting the sorcerer life to give you the normal life you wanted. Yet you didn’t want to be found and made it incredibly difficult to track you (and naturally Suguru.) The fact you survived this far to begin with was with Suguru’s help, which is more than what he had done. At least Suguru was able to give you some form of happiness. Although he never gave up looking for you, Satoru knew he should have done more to protect you. 

And now he has to live with the fact that he couldn’t bring you back home anymore.

“It was always you, you know that?”

Tearing his eyes away from your lifeless form, Satoru wordlessly looked at his best friend who had a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“All of these years away, there wasn’t a day that she didn’t think about you. No matter how hard I tried to get her to reciprocate my love, to open her heart to me, her heart was always set on you,” Suguru admitted bittersweetly.

Satoru could only stand there stunned at the revelation. If Suguru was telling the truth, had you always loved him the way he loved you? Flashbacks of you played back in his mind like an old movie. 

The way you would tenderly treat his wounds after he went a little too hard after a mission…

“I swear to god, Toru, you better not come back looking like this again,” you sighed, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball of antibiotic on the small gash on his forehead.

“You mean looking this good~?” he smirks, flexing his bicep proudly. Only for his bottom lip to jut out into a pout at the way you playfully roll your eyes at him, not exactly denying his words but also not wanting to feed that big ego of his.

Turning around to grab a clean bandage for his wound, he misses the way a light pink hue blooms across your cheeks.

…making him a bento box of his favorite foods after scolding him for skipping meals…

“Oh?” Satoru chirps, “What do we have here?”

He watched you unravel the prettily wrapped package to reveal the lunch you had prepared for him. Based on the smell alone, he knew you had made his favorite. “A little birdie told me you skipped breakfast this morning,” you sighed.

“Did this birdie happen to be a six foot three tall man with a man bun? What a snitch,” he sighed dramatically.

Tsking, you pushed the bento closer to him. “Don’t be mean. Eat before the food gets cold or else the last hour and a half of me cooking would go to waste.”

Didn’t you just come back from a mission this morning? The thought crossed his mind as he considered how tired you must be but still mustered the energy to cook for him. The delusional side of him imagined if this was what it would be like if you were his pretty little wife.

Grinning, he takes a bite of the food and savors the delicious flavor that hits his taste buds. “Thank you, sweets.”

…and leaving little cute messages in his notebooks to read during class.

Hearing his sensei drone on about something related to cursed energy, Satoru leaned back in his chair with his head tilted back in a silent groan. He swore this boring class had a higher chance of killing him than dealing with a special grade curse. Feeling someone kick his shoe from under his desk, Satoru looked over next to him to see Suguru giving him a disapproving look, gesturing with a nod to the sensei to pay attention. Satoru merely stuck his tongue out at him causing his best friend to roll his eyes. To be fair, he was equally as bored but someone had to pay attention to take notes, right?

Leaning on his hand, he aimlessly flicked through the pages of his notebook, the pages mostly bare since he rarely took notes. Satoru’s interest quirked when his eyes landed on an adorable doodle of a kitty cat wearing black round glasses much like the ones he wore. Beside it was a little speech bubble written in your handwriting that said, “You got this, Toru! I’ll always be here to support you ^o^.”

Chuckling, Satoru turned his head to find you sitting a few desks away from him. Unlike him, you were completely engrossed in the lesson and taking notes like the good student you were. You had your hair tucked behind your ear as you gnawed on your lower lip in concentration. All Satoru could think was… ‘pretty.’

Feeling eyes on the back of your head, you scanned your surroundings before making direct eye contact with Satoru. Despite being caught red handed staring at you, Satoru shot you a flirty wink, snickering at the way you gaped at him in shock. He made a gesture of him pretending to be on the verge of falling asleep, feeling his heart palpitate at the way you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

The next class, he found another doodle in his notebook of that same little Gojo kitty along with the words, “All eyes up front instead of me, Mr. Gojo >.<.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could he have been so blind? 

Or, maybe, he did see all of the signs. Perhaps he chose to actively ignore them because he knew getting involved with you would only put you in danger. He was okay with admiring you from a distance if it meant keeping you safe.

But if he knew things would end up this way, he wished he spent all this time telling you he loved you instead.

“Do you have any last words?” Satoru offered, feeling his heart aching at what was next to come.

Looking to the sky in resignation, a peaceful look graced Suguru’s face. “I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”

“But she made it worthwhile,” he continued, his voice lowering in remorse as he studied your tranquil face, ingraining every little detail that he loved about you in his mind. “I don’t regret taking her with me. My only regret is not being able to give her the life she deserved.”

Suguru cradled your face in his hand and leaned down to kiss your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering on your skin for the last time. He didn’t react when he heard heavy footsteps draw near.

Satoru brought himself closer to the two people he cherished most in his life. Crouching down so that he was eye level, he reached out to brush the hair away from your lids, wishing so desperately for you to open them so that he could look into those eyes that he first fell in love with. Just as Suguru did, he pressed his lips to your temple, feeling a tear slip from his eye.

Goodbye, my sweet girl. To the only girl I will ever love.

🏷️: @urcutetozier @sad-darksoul @alisoncdariel @paprikaquinn @jjk174 divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

[throneofsapphics]

against the contract, chapter two

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare

warnings: d/s dynamics, non sexual submission

word count: 2330

a/n: if anyone wants on the taglist please let me know! thank you so much for all the love on the first chapter & happy kinktober y'all!

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You twirled in front of the mirror for what you promised yourself was the last time. It wasn’t giving the vibe you needed it to. Groaning, you ripped your dress over your head, tossing it into the corner of your room. Too puffy. Too frilly. They were expecting the you they saw that night at Francine’s club, not some prissy and polished version. 

If it wouldn’t get you arrested, you might’ve just shown up naked. It’s a shame you had to drive there, and you’d surely get pulled over with your luck. Cops, you wanted to avoid at all costs. 

Rummaging through your closet, something hiding in the back caught your eye. The fabric, a midnight black according to the tag you just ripped off, still smelt new. You shook out the couple of wrinkles that had settled in, and slipped it on. 

Barely managing to zipper in by yourself, you spun slowly, not twirling, you told yourself, in front of your mirror. Glancing at the clock, you decided it would have to be enough. As it stood, you were already running late. Grabbing a small handbag, you shoved your essentials and the contract inside of it and walked very quickly out the door. 

They were about a forty-five minute drive out of the city, into an area you knew was teeming and crawling with “fuck you” wealth. You’d done private parties out there before, always making great tips. At least to you, the wealthy had been generous. Maybe luck would strike again. Rapping your fingers against the wheel, you hummed the catchy tune showing up on your shuffled playlist but couldn’t remember the artist or song name for the life of you.  

Just approaching the property, you could see how well taken care of it was based on the beautiful, giant holly trees. They both cast shade over the path, and blocked off any view of the neighbors to the left. If there were neighbors close by. You caught glimpses of gardens and beautiful native greenery through the trees on your right. The driveway was paved the entire way through, two lanes, and at least a mile long. The price they were offering started to make sense. It was probably nothing to them. 

Finally pulling up to the house in your rather economical car, a splurge to you a few years ago, you felt decidedly like an underdog. Not that this was some sort of superhero story, but your vehicle certainly was out of place amongst the several high-end black SUV's visible. All identical, all with blacked out windows. You frowned, blacked out windows were for criminals and politicians. Who exactly had Francine sent you to meet? You reminded yourself of the freedoms the payout of this job could afford you, and of your promise to yourself that if looking at them made you want to throw up, you'd leave.

The driveway finished in a circle, an elegant manor greeting you. Vines grew directly in the white stone, snaking up the columns supporting the second story balconies. With a squint, you could see a chandelier through one of the bay windows on the front of the house. The french doors, obviously the front entrance, were filled with panes of beautiful stained glass, looking as if they’d been stolen from a church. It looked like one of the ones you and your mother used to drive by for fun, to gaze at and wonder about their lives. A pang of nostalgia and grief hit you, quickly overshadowed as you remembered you had a job to do. 

Stepping out onto the smooth stones, you brushed your dress down and gently closed your car door behind you, clicking the key to lock it. The front doors opened before you began to ascend the stairs, a dark skinned woman greeting you with a small, albeit a bit distant, smile. It took conscious effort to keep your jaw slammed shut as she guided you inside the massive manor house. Still, you knew the whites of your eyes were showing. 

”Maybe you should be on your knees,” she murmured quietly as shoes clicked against the tile flooring in the distance. 

“Excuse me?” You matched her tone. 

She gave you a look that simultaneously said, ‘you heard me’ and ‘your funeral,’ and left you standing there. Alone. You understood you were to stay put, but gods you wanted to follow. Steeling yourself with a few breaths, you clasped your hands in front of you and waited. 

-

“I informed her, I imagine she’ll be standing,” Nuala murmured in his ear as they crossed paths. 

Rhys nodded. You hadn’t been informed of any rules of the like, so he hadn’t expected you to do it, but he wanted to throw something out there. For fun. Feyre was glaring at him, but he was sure she’d like the results. 

“Ready?” He asked Feyre and Azriel quietly. The former hummed angrily, the latter giving a short nod. Az was always the most nervous about adding anyone new to the household, regardless of how thorough his background checks were. It took ages for him to truly trust anyone and Rhys respected him for it. Feyre, on the other hand, tended to give away her trust too quickly, and paid for it later on. 

They rounded the corner and you stood there, hands clasped in front of you, a fire in your eyes as if you’d come to some decision during the span of the last minute you’d been left alone. 

”I wasn't informed there would be a test run.” There was a bite in your tone that thrilled and worried him at the same time. As fun as they were, they weren’t looking for a brat right now. 

”Is now inconvenient?” Stars danced in his eyes as he posed the challenge. 

”No.”

”Then on your knees.”

Like a puppet with its strings cut, you dropped, elegantly slowing yourself so the impact wouldn't be too harsh. Your hands found their way behind you, fingers interlaced, head bowed, the same portrait of submission he'd seen that night. His worries eased. Feyre let out a slow breath next to him, Azriel was stoic as always - almost always. 

Rhys took a step closer, Azriel followed and circled behind you, Feyre standing off to his right. Surrounded. He liked the idea of the three of them overwhelming you, some day. 

-

”Perfect,” you could've sworn you heard him say, but … that didn't seem likely. The three of them were like Gods and a Goddess. You were no comparison.

It went against all training but you peeked up through your lashes to look at him, to find him staring right back as if he was waiting for this. Fuck. You quickly averted your gaze and he chuckled.

Time passed, they retreated but you knew they were still in the room, watching.

Thoughts began to empty from your head, not quite throwing you into subspace but somewhere … floatier.

Somewhere free of your current worries and obligations, a reminder, despite the results of this 'test,' of why you loved this, of why you were a submissive.

”You pass,” the words came, then a hand. You didn't hesitate before taking it. 

Another hand, warm and firm, gripped your shoulder and held you upright while you got your legs back beneath you. You grimaced as pins and needles ran up and down your shins. 

”Let's get you some water,” a voice, low and cool like shadows, said, the speaker's mouth just inches away from your ear. His hand tucked itself appropriately into the crook of your elbow, guiding you back towards where they’d arrived from. You noticed a few golden rings on his fingers, blue gems set deep into them. They were gorgeous, and probably worth more than you were. Scars peppered his skin, but you knew better than to ask about another person's wounds. No matter how healed they were, a wrong question could open it right back up. 

“Okay,” you breathed, still trying to get your entire mind back in this world. Their presence, the sheer power they radiated, was intoxicating. You were almost ashamed you’d ever thought they might be ugly, and reminded yourself to thank Francine. The bat might faint when you do. You’d been blessed with the sight of the three most gorgeous people you’d ever had the pleasure of seeing. Maybe you were still a bit addled but they felt like a gift to your fucking eyes, and you were very glad mind reading was impossible - existing only in some of the fairy porn books you read - otherwise you would have three gorgeous people laughing at you, and that wouldn’t do. 

The man, who introduced himself as Azriel, led you silently into a rather formal dining room. He guided you into a seat at a black walnut table, pushing your chair in after you. There was an assortment of pastries and small fancy sandwiches waiting for you. 

Small talk was easy with them, comfortable even. As if they were pros at lulling people into states of security, false or real. 

“So,” Rhys leans back, tilting his chair on its back two legs. “How much of the contract did you show that nosy boss of yours?” 

“None,” you said and made sure to look him directly in the eyes, unsure if you felt offended by the implication you would share the information, or offended on Francine’s behalf. In all honesty it was probably the first. “It’s my business,” you added as clarification, uncertain if you really needed it but it felt right. 

He hummed and nodded, tapping the fingers of his left hand against the table, a silver ring glinting, catching the light from the chandelier. Your eyes tracked to the chair next to him, aware of Azriel on your left watching your every move, and you found Feyre watching you as well. 

She was elegant in a way you’d never seen before, exuding grace with each movement but ... you could see the callouses on her palms, the subtle but telling way her shoulders hunched forward slightly over her plate, like she was uncertain if someone might take her next meal from her. You knew because you’d trained the habit out of yourself. 

Sending a soft smile her way, you waited for their next question, not so patiently on the inside but you were well aware you appeared perfectly content on the outside. 

“I’m assuming you have questions about the contract,” Rhys finally said. 

“I do,” you tapped a finger against the table, frowning. “I have them written down, but it’s in my bag.” 

Azriel was out of his chair before you’d completely finished the sentence, and on his way to the door. You pivoted in your seat, watching him ... very inappropriately for a moment before you caught yourself. Somehow, barely, you managed to keep the flush from your cheeks at the others knowing smirks. 

Azriel was back within a minute with your bag, and you slipped the contract out of it, wondering if someone rifled through the contents while you were separated from it - not that they’d find anything interesting. 

“Right,” you flipped towards the section you’d highlighted a few days ago. 

The Submissive will conduct themself in a respectful manner at all times, unless otherwise requested

“What does ‘unless otherwise requested’ mean?” You asked and turned the paper around, sliding it across the table to Rhys, knowing Azriel had been looking over your shoulder. Plus, it was quite obvious who was in charge. He’d ordered you to your knees, after all. 

“There may be times we ask you to ... play a part,” he clarified, mouth curving up at one corner. Feyre’s lips pursed together, as if she was holding herself back from speaking. Maybe that section was her idea. 

“Does that work for you?” Azriel asked. 

You nodded, before catching yourself, turning to face him and replying, “yes.” 

An approving nod was your response. Even that tiny hint of approval from one of them sent a warm feeling through your chest. Gods, you could feel yourself becoming conditioned to them already, and you hadn’t even put ink on the paper. 

“Any other questions?” Feyre asked. 

You nodded, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth and flipping through the papers again. 

“I like it,” you heard Rhys, but focused on finding your section 

L.1 The Submissive will live with the Dominants for the duration of the contract.

“I would live here?” 

-

“We’d expect this to be a full time commitment, meaning you wouldn’t take on other obligations for the months you’d be with us,” his wife explained after he prodded her. Feyre was acting shyer than usual and it was endearing, as well as a tad worrying. He wanted her to feel comfortable around you, and safe, and if she couldn’t ... well he’d pay out the contract and let you go. As pretty as you were, Rhys would put his wife first. 

“That makes sense,” you said slowly, nodding as you thought it over. 

“Any other questions?” You asked a few more. It pleased him that you were taking this seriously, rather than just a money grab. Majority of the people they found saw the sum and were quick to say yes to everything else. He needed to be able to trust someone to actually speak up. 

“That’s everything I have,” you finally said. 

“Then let's sign,” Rhys pulled a pen from his pocket, and Azriel produced two fresh copies of the contract. You had no idea the danger you were throwing yourself into. He wouldn’t ruin you, but you certainly wouldn’t be the same after this. Rhys had a feeling none of them would be.

Later that night, Rhys lounged in an elegant high backed chair, not unlike a throne, with Feyre perched on one leg while Azriel knelt at his feet, and let the whiskey wet his lips and tongue before dripping down his throat. He imagined someone else kneeling next to Azriel. You. 

-

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh @rosecobollway @glittervame @tele86 @randomgurl2326 @bookwormysblog @sidthedollface2 @scarsandallaz @therealmoonstone @hannzoaks @grapeflavoredwater @fhgsvbnh

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze

acotar taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @i-am-a-lost-girl16

[kalki-tarot]

Channeled messages you need right now✨️ 🪷

Pick a picture by intuition ♡

This may not resonate with everyone, take what resonates and leave the rest ♡ always remember that you are the creator of your own destiny.

Picture 1

Move on from what's not meant for you, leave things behind for your own mental health. Remember you have a lot of other options too.

Wow! You are being blessed with Emotional fulfillment and wealth by the divine. Take that decision fast!

The decision may feel impulsive or rushed to you but this may turn out to be the best decision of your life.

A wish of yours is gonna get fulfilled, or you're gonna achieve fame in the near future.

I see a vision of you in a party or a wedding. And you may have a fight or competition there.

If you're thinking of starting a new venture or changing places, or even international travel, do it! It'll give you a sense of justification and satisfaction.

You or someone in your friend group may buy a new vehicle.

If you're growing tight on money, don't worry, this phase will go away on it's own.

Someone in your friend circle will show you their real face, they can be a masculine energy with earth signs. They may leave you heartbroken or betrayed but you need to be thankful that such people are getting out of your life and be neutral about this situation, don't let it affect you in any way.

Black and white color, white cats and clocks can be significant or a sign from universe for you if you asked for one. So pay attention to things around you.

I see mountains and a river with lots of greenery, maybe your mental health is finally recovering and you're getting in alignment or on track finally.

Let me - Zayn malik can be significant.

You may get emotional clarity by the next crescent moon. Your blocked emotions will release and you'll gain stability and clarity. You'll get a direction or a path to follow.

The emotional release can be about some childhood trauma or even heartbreak, deep emotional pain.

Zindagi do pal ki - KK can be significant, especially the last verse.

You may frequently ask god that why you were given so much pain and harships in life. But remember that each circumstance has a deeper meaning behind it. Everything serves a purpose in life, so take the bad times as a lesson. You're meant for something bigger.

I can see the presence of a male figure in your life, who's very wise and thoughtful. They'll teach you some things about life, which will help you.

Your angels/guides/universe, whatever you believe in, has their eye on you. They are protecting you behind the scenes. Their presence is always there to help you.

Your heart or throat chakra can be imbalanced. Please do some meditation or even try therapy for it. You need to work on these two chakras very much for your own good.

Lord Shiva is protecting you or they can be your guide.

Lord Ganesha is watching over you and protecting you too.

Picture 2

Don't fight or resist change. Be calm and let things happen on their own.

Divine wants to do some intervention but your attitude towards life is not helping it at all. A cycle is being closed.

If you are a feminine, a masculine energy will woo you in some social gathering or a party. I see people around you, so it can be a public place. Trust your intuition with this person. It's love at first sight.

Your fears are coming in between your success and divine union. Don't let your fears run your life. Trust the universe.

This state of indecisive is coming to an end. Don't let memories or past heartbreaks come in between.

You are undergoing a transformation. The new "you" will be very clear minded and creative.

Do some self introspection. Reanalyse your toxic cycles.

Your shadow self needs some more time to heal.

Pay attention to red butterflies, it's a sign.

June / July months of any year can be significant.

Bol do na zara - Arman Malik

444 or 44 is significant for you.

Any financial unstablity is coming to an end.

Don't be too materialistic, don't make your lust an obsession.

Leave behind past memories, don't dwell into nostalgia so much.

By doing so, you are blocking a new beginning in your life.

Don't be too afraid to speak up for yourself.

[hidden-snow]

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈 Ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ Ｈｏｍｅ ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ 〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,173

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

He was sitting by himself in a clearing, empty and lush with greenery surrounding him. You’d been watching for a while now, waiting for people to leave so that you could catch him alone.

He was surrounded by string, wood, and feathers, carefully crafting new arrows with gracefully elegant movements.

“Neteyam!”

You were the last person he expected to see, the last person to call out to him. His head snapped up, a blank look on those large golden eyes. And then he broke into a frenzy, trying to grab up everything he possibly could so that he could flee.

You stifle your eye roll as you walk through the grass, stopping in front of him with your hands on your hips.

“Well? Are you going to keep being an ass and not say hi?” you prompt and he stood up from his spot, several items still littered around him in the cool grass.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” he murmured, looking at you in the same sad way that a puppy would look up at the person who’d kicked it.

“Neteyam te Tsyeyk’itan, you stop behaving like a child and grow up for at least one conversation!”

You were tired of this little dance and tired of the way you both moved, as if parallels that would never meet. 

So yeah.

Maybe you snapped a little harder than you meant to.

It seemed to work, though, as he blinked, ears pricked forward attentively. Good. Now you’ve got him where you needed him to be.

“Neteyam, I didn’t mean any of it. So please, stop avoiding me. I…”

You hesitate. Why is it so hard to spit out what you’re needing to?

“I’m sorry, Neteyam.”

Your voice was soft, full of emotions that you felt deep in the core of your being.

“I want you. Probably as much as you want me. I’ve been trying to fight it, trying to ignore it, but you made it impossible to ignore. So I snapped at you and pushed you away. I’m sorry.”

Neteyam looked at you for a moment before giving you a soft smile, previous anger and sadness in his eyes gone.

“You’re… you have emotions towards me? Good ones?” he asked quietly and you blush, nodding. Your hand falls to your arm, rubbing the skin in an awkward manner. Everything about this whole moment was awkward. Until it wasn’t.

“I love you, Neteyam. I never stopped loving you.”

You were both taken aback by your sudden outburst, your brain unable to handle the awkwardness between you two.

His smile grows into a full, bright smile, and he reached out to you, pulling you into his arms, against his chest.

“I can’t tell you how long I have waited to hear that from your mouth,” he whispered, chin resting atop your head. Your head moves to rest against his chest, listening to the soft beat of his heart, your soul soothed just by being close to him again.

“I love you, yawne. More than you’ll ever know,” he whispered, cupping your cheek with his hand.

His lips met yours, hands moving to hold the back of your head, and your arms wrap around his ribcage, bodies pressed against each other as the kiss deepened into a hungry, eager one. You could feel his body grinding against yours, starving for the feeling of your touch.

Your fingers trail down his chest, following his curve down to his tewng. Daintily, you skim over the growing bulge, straining against the fabric as you break the kiss.

“You should finish what you started four years ago,” you whisper, his breath hot against your lips.

“I’ve been waiting,” he responded, just as quiet, his hands falling to the underside of your ass to pick you up. Your legs wrap around his hips to keep yourself from falling from his grasp.

His hand slid down a bit more, fingers slipping past your tewng to slip into the heat between your thighs, and you gasp softly, clutching tightly to his body.

Slowly, his fingers pump in and out of you, thumb flicking over your clit, teasing you. You moan softly against his touch, wiggling a bit at the stimulation, body highly sensitive and receptive towards him.

“I think we have plenty of time,” he whispered in your ear. “For now, I just want to please you. I want you to know that this is about you right now.”

His fingers continued to pump into you, the rough pad of his thumb giving a delicious amount of friction and roughness to have you trembling in his grasp.

His lips met yours again, tongue swiping over your teeth and tongue, passionate and ravenous for your taste.

You wanted more, yet your brain told you that this was simply enough. Your body was tensing up, a coil building up within the pit of your stomach, and he could feel your spine arching inwards, chest pressing tighter against his own. His fingers pump into your soaked heat with a new vigor, his only goal to get you to your climax.

He wasn’t failing. You were getting closer and closer, fastly climbing up that mountain to the high that would follow right after you hit your orgasm.

You hadn’t been touched like this, not since before when he’d been here and everything had been perfect and shrouded by clouds of love and innocent trust.

You groan softly against his lips, fingers threading through his braided locks before tightening around them, gripping them as if they were the only thing keeping you held tight against him.

His fingers were working with an urgency, applying as much friction as possible without causing pain. They pressed and wiggled against your gummy walls and he hummed softly, feeling you tighten around his digits.

“Cum for me, my pretty girl,” he whispered in your ear as he gently nipped at the shell, feeling the way they fluttered against his lips.

His words, mixed with the friction, were enough to bring you to the end of the mountain you were climbing.

Your head tilted back as your spine arched, a gasp escaping your lips as the coil shattered within your stomach, your body tight and tense with the intensity of the climax. If his fingers could do this to you, you couldn’t help but imagine what the rest of him could do.

Neteyam grinned, lowering you down into the grass before laying down beside you, pulling you close as his fingers ran lightly over your skin. You take the hand that had been touching your lower half with such passion, and you pop his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them in an attempt to lick your taste from his skin.

He continued to hold you close, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder and upper back.

“I love you,” you whisper softly to him and he pulls you closer against his chest, kissing your cheek lightly.

“I love you too. I always have and I always will.”

Taglist // @earthling55 / @cardi-bre91 / @bambithewriter

[aheathen-conceivably]

Part of Zelda loved the last few years of their lives. At its simplest, it reminded her of being in England again, of standing in the fields with her father and making every recipe from scratch with her mother. Life felt warmer here than it had in New Orleans, calmer and quieter and more akin to something she had envisioned for herself. 

Of course there was pain as well, backbreaking constant pain and endless drudgery. Sometimes it reminded her of how much she liked standing in a crowded cafe or club and feeling everyone’s energy come together in one tumultuous surge. Compared to that, it often felt like she had only known two extremes in her life, and she had swung between the two without ever really finding herself in the middle. 

Then there was the desperation, constantly turning and monitoring the soil, adding any and every shell or skin she could spare, and hauling countless buckets of water from the nearby stream. It was knowing that living or dying fell upon your back and the roof over everyone’s heads relied on your efforts. But in doing so it sometimes felt like a spirit overtook one, one that actually understood her purpose and called her Little Robin on even his darkest days.

Only recently the desperation had taken on a new tone, one independent of Gio’s debts or her child’s hunger. One that even her father wouldn’t have understood. It was her burden, and her burden alone, seen and shared by Antoine but really only felt by her. Because she could till this soil; she could monitor it and will the crops to grow as though through sheer willpower and knowledge alone. Only she couldn’t do the same for herself. 

Because at least this seemingly barren soil was growing something. There was life and hope in it, fully grown plants and crops on the edge of being harvested. She had poured her soul into it, and it had responded in turn. She needed them to grow, not only for the reasons everyone else did, but because she couldn’t seem to grow anything within herself.

She was walking the fields, picking away dead leaves and checking under each one for bugs when she saw it: a sapphire glittering amidst the greenery in the ever-present sunshine. She reached forward slowly, moving each leaf aside hesitantly as though half expecting to look down and see yet another dashed hope that had existed only for a moment.

But then she bent down into the soil and it was real: a perfectly grown ear of corn. Untouched by bugs or drought or heat. She had done it. It had grown. In an inaudible whisper she called out to Gio across the farmyard. Realizing that he was probably preoccupied still trying to dig out their well she called out again, and again, until her amazed voice finally rose to an audible volume.

He rounded the fence, his eyes filled with apprehension that another bud had been eaten in the night or the leaves inexplicably wilting. Instead he saw Zelda standing there, an ear of corn in her hand and a smile on her face. 

He immediately threw his shovel into the dirt and ran toward her, “We did it, Zelda! We really fucking did it!” For a moment he just held her in shared amazement, and Zelda could swear that he was going to cry. All of his emotions poured out onto her so that she could feel he had no way to contain his gratitude, until he picked her up and swung her amidst the tall verdant plants growing all around them, “Jesus Christ who am I kidding, you did it! This farm…it, I was nothing until you got here, until you made all this happen!”

Zelda let herself be swept off her feet, lost in his characteristically infectious joy. Because he didn’t know why she had worked so hard on these fields, or that she often walked the rows thinking of them in relation to herself. He only knew she had given him something, everything he seemed to dream of in that moment, and that together they had actually done it. They had made life grow from nothing.

Across the farmyard, Josephine watched them, and a small fire started in her heart. With a jolt she realized that this was what jealousy must feel like. She had never given a fuck about who Gio or any of her partners had danced or laughed or flirted with, so long as she knew and they didn’t use it against her when the time came. But it couldn’t be, not here, not now. Not her. 

This was Zelda. Her best friend, her sister. They worked and lived there together day in and day out, but then he set her on the ground and her laughter rang out through the farmyard, and Josephine realized that it was her. It was the joy she and Gio shared over a goddamn ear of corn. One single ear of corn. It was as infuriating as all of life was here, because it didn’t feel like living at all. It felt like a constant game of survival that transformed your life into a series of meaningless tasks without purpose or delineation rather than something that was actually yours to live.

Because life here wasn’t simpler for Josephine the way it was for Zelda. There was nothing nostalgic or calming about it. No sound of her father’s voice to guide her through the pain or personal drive tying her to the constant, backbreaking work. She tried, every goddamn day she tried, just like she promised Giorgio and herself that she would; but it felt like the land itself was draining her soul bit by bit.

Yet here was Zelda, who seemed like some sort of old world fertility goddess standing amongst the plants she had grown from soil that wouldn’t yield for anyone else. For years, she had done nothing but give and give as she worked alongside Giorgio to make his damn dream come true, all the while thoughts of running away continued to plague Josephine in the night. Zelda had poured her soul into the desolate land to make it grow. Josephine dreamed of setting it on fire. 

Jesus, she didn’t want to. She wanted to fall onto the orange sands of Strangerville and somehow sprout into the perfect farm wife too. That’s why she was jealous. She wanted to be that happy when a single goddamn ear of corn had grown, to share in the simple joy of the man she loved over something she couldn’t help but find infuriating. It seemed like he was happy because he had someone to share that joy with now, someone who could make his dreams come true and give him all of herself so totally. It made her think that maybe the problem was her; she had simply not given enough of herself to be happy. But she didn’t quite know how.

[chai-berries]

all my friends support palestine and will click and share this link to spread awareness

Come to my Lake House (#3)

Jerry bought the cabin on the lake when Abby went into middle school. The following summer, she invited her new Salt Lake City friends out to the lake. That started the tradition of going straight from the last day of school celebrations to the lake house for a long weekend. They’d come busting in through the cabin’s french doors, dropping gym bags and jansports backpacks into a perfect trip hazard pile by the door. Grabbing a slice of watermelon that Abby helped cut up and greet Jerry, who was in charge of the grill, before splitting off to do different lake house activities.

And the lake house itself is surrounded by so many things to do. From looking for newts in the water to trying out the infamous rope swing. Hiking in the forest that surrounds the majority of the house.

Don’t forget the traditional summer games like cornhole and horseshoes. Once Jerry even set up crochet — but he had to immediately return the game for the safety of the extremely competitive friend group.

This tradition continued past high school and college and budding careers. Eventually, Jerry didn’t feel the need to tag along with them and the group continued using the lake house as a place to escape from their corporate jobs and hectic schedules.

A year into your relationship with Abby, you got to see the cabin in all it’s glory. Abby didn’t have to ask you twice when she invited you, as you’ve been craving a nice cool lake for ages, work kicking your ass. You packed your swim gear, your journals, and books to keep you entertained throughout the trip. Abby had spent the drive up to the lake chattering your ear off about all the things she wanted to show you.

She wanted to take you to a cool cliff side view about three miles from the cabin. And the fire pit with the perfect view of the sky above between the trees. She was also just genuinely excited to be with you, playing in the sun. You practically radiated the star. With your silly jokes and pretty laugh. Whenever you guys went hiking, you’d practically be skipping down the trails, playing in the spotlights of the sun along the way. Your face under the light of the bright sun gave Abby butterflies every time. She couldn’t wait to share with you all the sights she loved so much.

The lake picnic happens three days into the trip. Manny, Abby, and Jordan drag Manny’s jet skis into the water. You help Nora carry the basket of sandwiches she painstakingly made for everyone, with specialty diets considered. Everyone had their beers, sodas, and sparkling waters tucked between their legs. There’s a giant wooden raft in the middle of the lake that they were using as base. Once the food is safely put on the base, alongside Jordan and Leah who were gonna swim in the water around it, the jet skis are revved up and the races begin. Manny and Whitney get on one while Nora takes the second. Abby invites you to ride with her and how could you say no?

Once you’re situated, your thighs against hers and arms around her waist, she floors it. She starts with big circles around the lake as she gives you a scenic tour of the greenery around it. But soon after, she’s pulling tricks to make you shriek. She drives by the others, causing waves that rock them. Manny almost takes you both out when he retaliates with his own jet ski tricks. The two of them start to race, with you and Whitney holding on for dear life.

Abby drops you off at the raft before doing a switch around with Leah, who takes the jet ski and Abby goes over to join you. She plops down next to you on the edge of the raft, her legs and feet submerged in the water next to yours. You had collected a bag of chips, one Pepsi and one La Croix before you sat down and you quickly pass the sparkling water drink to her before she even notices it. She thanks you with a simple kiss on your temple.

You both sit there, talking and sunning yourselves until Manny drags Abby off to a beer chugging competition with Leah and Jordan. You and Nora get to properly catch up as you wait for Abby to come back. Smiley and a little buzzed, she does come back and she immediately holds her hand out to you.

“Let’s swim, baby!” You give in once you see she’s not drunk and you trust she won’t drown on you. You guys walk over to the corner of the raft where no one is at and jump into the lake. You do a simple dive but Abby, after waiting for you to pop back up to the surface to watch her, does a running start and cannonballs into the water with a big splash. You close your eyes as the water hits your face and don’t open them until you feel Abby’s hands at your waist.

You open your eyes to see Abby’s own eyes practically glowing with mischief, the blue darker in some places and light in others. You tell her you “love her pretty eyes” and she pinks up, pressing a smooch to your smiling lips. You push away from her to float on your back, the girl doggy paddling next to you until you guys are further away from the raft.

“Hey,” Abby rasps out against the water pushing her around. “Wanna play mermaids?”

You bark out a laugh. “Okay, but I get to be the purple-tailed one.”

Abby laughs, agreeing. “I wanted to be green anyway.”

And like two little girls, you and Abby play mermaids for what feels like hours, swimming around each other and the logs and rocks that coat the river floor.

It is when you’re laughing so hard at her impression of her “pet seahorse” that can’t stop nuzzling up to you for “pets and kisses” that you realize you hadn’t seen any of your friends in a while.

“Wait, Abby? What time is it?”

The girl pulls back and looks at her wrist where her waterproof watch shines the time back to her. “Oh, shit we’ve been over here for two hours?!” Abby’s flabbergasted face pulls a laugh out of you. You kiss her wet pout.

You guys had managed to swim pretty far away from the raft and when you finally get to it, you notice that while the coolers were still on the raft, your friends are gone. You climb onto the raft and look around. The sun’s in your eyes and you have to cup your hand by your eyes to block it out in order to see.

“HELLO??!?” Abby walks around the raft calling for Manny and Nora or anyone.

Finally you hear Manny screaming Abby’s name. You see him on land by the house, waving his arms.

“Where the hell have you guys been?” He yells across the water.

“We were swimming!” Abby yells back. She looks back at you and rolls her eyes.

You see Manny move — his hands are now placed on his hips. “You get your asses over here! Dinner is almost done! Dios mios! No me jodas! I thought you guys died!”

“Sorry, Manny!” you yell back. You then turn to Abby.

“How are we supposed to get back?” You groan. “I’m fucking exhausted from mermaids, but they took the jet skis back.”

Abby scans the area and indeed they took both jet skis back. But that doesn’t deter her.

“I’ll go swim to get the jet ski and then come back and get you.”

Now you normally would say no but you can’t argue the fact that Abby’s stamina is way higher than yours on a good day. You’re exhausted but Abby is still bouncing around, full of energy. She dives into the water and swims to a jet ski. It takes her a quick minute to mount and start it, but soon she’s cruising towards you.

“Thank you, Abs.” You take her helpful hand to climb on behind her. And you wrap your arms tight around her waist to hold on as she drives you both back to shore. Manny is still there, looking exactly like a latina mother irritated with her children. He hands you both towels and gestures for you to follow him back up to the house.

“Thanks, mom!” Abby teases Manny. She just barely dodges his smack aimed at the back of her head and ducks behind you as protection. You put your toughest face on as you guard your girlfriend. Manny laughs at your attempt and rolls his eyes. “That’s cute, sister. Like a rottweiler hiding behind a pomeranian…”

“Aye,” you scold Manny, waggling your finger at him.

“Leave my girl alone. Pomeranians are ankle biters. Which means I’mma getcha!” you put your fists up, punching the air near his face. Manny gets into a defensive pose, bopping around in place like a video game character in create mode, which makes Abby cackle behind you.

“Hey, bitches!” You three turn your heads to the house where Nora is standing in the doorway. “Food is done. Get your asses in here,” she walks back into the house.

Manny straightens up. “Best not keep the cook waiting. She hid the chocolate for the s’mores when I kept asking when dinner would be done.” His face pulls into a deep drown like a scolded child. You laugh and shove him in front of you. Abby shuffles over to walk next to you, placing her arm over your shoulder. You slide your hand around her waist and walk the rest of the way glued to the hip. Manny was inside by the time you both got to the porch stairs. You could hear him reenacting the moment he saw you guys on the raft to the rest of the crew.

“You wanna go get changed?” Abby quietly asks. You nod and follow her up the stairs to your shared bedroom. She grabs her clothes from her bag and chivalrously goes into the bathroom to change, allowing you to have the bedroom to yourself. Making do without a shower, you put on a sweatshirt and shorts.

You’re sitting on the bed, putting on socks when Abby comes back in. She’s wearing her go to track pants and the thrifted harley-davidson shirt you bought her months ago. It has holes in the collar and along other seams, but it’s soft, light, and has a picture of a half naked lady sitting on a motorcycle. So safe to say it’s one of Abby’s favorite shirts. She joins you, putting on her own wool socks. You both get up to head downstairs but she stops you in the doorway.

“Hey, wait,” she pulls you towards her until you're close enough for her to lean in and press a long kiss to your lips. You smile into it and tug Abby even closer.

She eventually pulls away and you watch her lick her lips. Her cheeks are rosy red. She doesn’t say anything, just scans her eyes all over your face.

“You good, baby?” you ask, playing with the hairs at the nape of her neck, comforting her without hesitation.

“Yeah,” Abby coughs. “I’m just, like, really gay, sorry.”

“What?!?” you squawk out. The snort that she pulls from you is embarrassing but the way Abby’s face is so serious makes it come out of you. “You're dumb as hell! God, I love you.”

“Aw,” Abby cooes. She brushes a finger along the apple of your cheek. “I like you too!”

You roll your eyes at her smirk. “Shut up!” you joke, shoving her shoulder back. She barely moves, her stance planted.

“Hey! I was kidding! C’mere! I am sorry baby!” Abby apologizes. “I love you so so much!” She kisses your temple repeatedly.

You can’t help but pout at how fast you are able to forgive her, jokes aside. You’re a fucking sap for her.

You guys head back downstairs and into the dining area where everyone is devouring Nora’s gourmet tacos. There’s a spot for you and Abby saved, with empty plates waiting. The cups are filled with something non-alcoholic that sits in a glass jug next to your place mat.

“Damn, Nora,” Abby comments when she sits down. “My plans for my dinner seem subpar to yours.”

Nora smiles. “Shut up. But thank you. I’ve made these a few times already and they hit every time. So please, y’all, eat it up!”

The rest of the table cheers unanimously and then they settle back down, eating and enjoying the company around the table as the sun sets. It turns into twilight, then dusk, before everyone finally disperses from the table. Since tonight is Jordan and Leah’s turn to do dishes, Abby invites you to sit outside with her. The stars are bright out here and you take a moment to look at all of them in the sky. Abby takes that time to look at you.

“Do you know any of the stars?” She asks

You continue looking upwards. “I wish but no. You?”

“Nah,” she clicks her tongue. “I was honestly hoping you’d know.”

You laugh at her response, looking away from the sky. Abby’s holding back a smile when you look at her. She points over your shoulder.

“We have some chairs over here.”

There are lounge chairs sitting on an overlook of a small cement patio and campfire area. Abby tells you about building the fire pit a few summers ago with her dad. She sits down on one and before she even has time to say something, you nudge her thigh with your knee.

You look positively bashful. Abby’s thankful for the lanterns surrounding the area that alight your face for her. “Can I sit with you?”

“Of course, yeah, c’mere,” Abby scoots a bit back on the chair and spreads her legs so you can sit between them. You eagerly settle in against her warm chest. It’s not too hot or cold tonight — perfect summer night weather. She wraps her arms around your shoulders. Goosebumps arise on her skin where your hands run down her arms until you bring her forearms up to your chin, encouraging her to snuggle closer. Abby smiles into the back of your head and she tightens her arms around you. You both lay there, Abby pressing random kisses onto your head and you respond to them with kisses of your own to her arm.

“Thanks for coming up here with me. I know it can be a bit overwhelming with everyone but I’m happy you’re here,” Abby says into the night. You lean your head back so you can look up at Abby. She looks down at you, instinctively closing her eyes when you put a hand on her cheek.

“Thank you for inviting me. I’ve been having a lot of fun. It’s nice to see the crew… unleashed.” You shoot her a wry grin. Abby knows exactly what you’re referencing as she was also witness to Leah and Manny’s rock, paper, scissors turned arm wrestle turned into actual wrestling over who got to have the big inflatable dragon. Apparently, Abby had told you, they had to take turns because this wasn’t the first inflatable those two fought over but it is the only one that still inflates.

Abby leans her head back, groaning. “God I was so embarrassed when they did that!”

You snort. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Abby shrugs, looking sheepish. “I wanted to impress you with this trip and there goes my best friends fighting over an inflatable floatie.”

“What are you talking about?” You move your entire body 90 degrees around so you can look at her, your legs now swung over one of Abby’s. There’s an exasperated but extremely adorable expression on your face. “I love your friends. They are your family. And they’re funny as hell. You have to come camping with my family — we get crazy on the river. Just you wait,” you hum, looking up at the sky.

Abby slyly leans closer to you. She can’t help the grin that grows on her face. “Yeah? I’m going camping with your family now?”

You look over at her and smile. “I mean yeah, my family already invited you without me even asking. It’s going to be twenty of us so you better be prepared for that whole circus,” you tease. Abby shares your smile. She’s met some of your family but only in short bursts. She met a few of them before you guys even started officially dating. They loved her as much as she loved them. “Just be prepared for the fly fishing because it’s a requirement while camping with us.”

Abby scoffs. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll catch the biggest fish.”

You cup her cheek and bring her face closer to yours. “I’m sure you will, baby.” You coo. You lean forward and press your lips against hers in a slow kiss. She keeps you there with a hand on your neck, nudging your lips open with hers, your tongue enthusiastically meeting hers. You can’t help the moan you let out that vibrates against Abby’s lips, encouraging her own moans. It’s deep, slow, and full of love as she keeps you firmly tethered to her. When you finally pull away, it’s to look at Abby’s pretty face in the flickering lantern lights.

“Did you know,” you start. Your hand is still on Abby’s cheek and you take the time to delicately brush your thumb against the apple of her cheek. “That you are so fucking pretty?” You lean in to kiss her freckled cheek. The smooch is exaggeratedly loud in order to bring a laugh out of Abby. She pretends to lean away from you but is secretly enjoying the attention you give her face as you lay kisses all over her face, repeating “so pretty” under your breath after each kiss.

You continue to smooch her face until she is giggling so hard that you can’t stop smiling at the sound, which makes keeping your lips puckered very difficult. You reluctantly pull away, taking the time to brush loose hair from Abby’s face. Her giggles subside and she watches as you comb her hair back.

The stars and tree line behind you give Abby a view she could stare at all day, your soft expression as you look at her warming her more than any bonfire could. This is exactly what she wanted when she invited you to come up here with her. You, her, the stars, the soundtrack of a summer night floating around you. No work, no appointments. No other distractions besides her best friends, who adore you and have no problem leaving you two alone to enjoy your time together. No real interruptions for an entire week. And Abby is going to take full advantage of the full week to love on you as much as she can.

She presses a kiss to your cheek. “C’mon,” she gestures for you to go back to your earlier positions, your back against her front. You both spend the rest of the evening sharing kisses and inventing random constellations out of the stars above you.

[cheesecakezyum]

HII;!! (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)/ I'm not sure if you'll take this but can I request a Sun Wukong ofcourze :) where MK and the gang are stalking him cause he's acting weird but is actually just happy his s/o is back from their travels and he's all lovey-dovey over them thank you! (Not a one shot but over all just headcanons plzz ☺️)

Hello there anon! Thank you for such a cute request <3

While I do love my headcanons I hope you don’t mind a bit of predetermined context as to why the reader left at first!

Missed you more than you know.

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♡ - It’s not like you wanted to leave your friends (Leaning more towards found family at this point really), but you wanted to pursue your own goals! And he— well, your lover.. Couldn’t just up and leave with you. He had to attend to his own duties as a mentor!

♡ - Since you were little, you’ve always wanted to travel. You were an artist, and your goal was to draw as much fauna as you could in your quite short life. Wukong had helped you a ton— especially while he was courting you! His gifts were often messily put together flowers and saplings, right at your window! At some point, your small apartment was your own personal nursery.

♡ - But he couldn’t just give everything to you and call your dreams off. You wanted to actually see fauna thriving under the hands of Mother Nature! To not just sketch the specimen but the surroundings as well, the wildlife. You grew warm and fuzzy just thinking of it.

♡ - So after a full year of preparation, you had finally taken your long awaited leave in pursuit of your dreams; Giving your simian one last kiss, you bid him goodbye. The way in which his tail was securely wrapped around your wrist slowly softened in defeat as you turned away.

You knew that if you looked back, you’d never be able to leave.

♡ - Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Romania, Italy, Croatia— and so many other destinations had been just what you’ve been dreaming of. Europe was just as beautiful as you’ve read! If not more so. And one sketchbook had grown to 3, 4 if you cared to count the pages which were half filled.

♡ - And every night (At least every night where he wasn’t busy himself), Wukong would telepathically communicate with you! You just called it spiritual face time and chose to call it a day.

♡ - While you’d ramble about whatever interesting interactions or discoveries you’ve made, Wukong would keep you updated on how everyone was doing. An improvement in MK’s technique, Mei fixing up a new scooter she had found, etc.

♡ - And every night, after you’ve wished each other good night— he’d never forget to mention just how empty flower fruit mountain felt without you.

“I love you,”

“I miss you more every day you’re gone,”

“Your warmth, that laugh, the way your cheeks brighten at my cheesy comments.”

“I wish you were here with me right now. Heh, everyone does.”

♡ - After what felt like an eternity; you were more than satisfied with your work and began heading home! You couldn’t wait to tell him in person everything you’ve accomplished, and just how satisfied you were with your numerous sketches, watercolors, and inked works you’d soon frame all over your abode in remembrance.

♡ - Walking into your apartment for the first time in ages made your heart soar the minute you saw what surrounded you.

Your flowers, shrubbery, and plants had all been taken care of to near perfection. Not a single vine or leaf had wilted since your departure.

♡ - Your partner had tenderly cared for each of your greenery with such pristine care that you thought they even looked better than they had before— blooming bright and beautifully even when it wasn’t in season.

♡ - It seemed like you weren’t alone in the apartment as well, turning your head to see the Monkey King himself finishing up watering your pitcher plants.

♡ - And making eye contact, you noticed the way his jaw hung slack— as if he was being delusional and you were simply a figment of his imagination.

—

“Hey, hey, don’t overwater it! It’s spilling all over the floor!” You had urgently exclaimed, rushing over to snatch the watering can from his gentle hold and place it on a flat surface.

(It was a ceramic white duck, by far one of your favorites out of the many which were just stashed away in your closet.)

A puddle seemed to have already been made in between you two— but you couldn’t help but giggle in his obvious stupor.

Wukong’s voice was seemingly breathless, speaking in almost a whisper.

“You’re back, for real?”

Before you could even muster a response, you found yourself lifted in the air— then back in his loving embrace.

“I am, Wukong. I’m back.”

—

♡ - A week had passed, and within it you were more than happy to tell him and everyone else about your travels / experiences. It was practically expected— being gone for so long only leaving so much room for stories to tell.

♡ - What wasn’t expected, however, was the absolute clinginess of Wukong since your return. He hadn’t left your side once if it was in his control. Training and personal duties aside, you never spent more than 10 minutes of free time without being interrupted by his boisterous nature.

“Honey, I’m home!”

♡ - Once, you had to go into the shopping district for produce. The fruits had seemed especially delicious! You couldn’t leave without your mate however, as he had chosen to shape himself into a butterfly just to inspect what you were buying. Totally just that, not like it was anything else!

♡ - You’ve even caught MK and Mei sneaking around you at times where you thought it was just you and Wukong. Not that you could blame them, though. Anyone would be interested if they knew the great sage couldn’t get enough of you, being around you, all that mumbo jumbo.

♡ - Nights were spent either in your own bedroom or on the floor of his shack, coddled by both him and the many other monkeys which called Flower Fruit Mountain your home.

—

It was the same as always; tail curled around you ankle, an arm snaked around your waist and his soft breathing muffled into your hair.

You whispered into the darkness of your room—

“Did you really miss me that much?”

You didn’t expect an answer so quick to come from his mouth.

“More than you know.”

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EEEE IT FEELS GOOD TO WRITE AGAIN! Besides planning of course. I hope you enjoyed!

[kingofbodyrolls]

End of the World: epilogue (m) | myg

you think about all the shit you’ve been through, how far you’ve come and what you can look forward to in the future.

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: post-apocalyptic, dystopian turning into utopian. Baby angst with fluff and hope. → Tropes: established relationship → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 0.9k → Warnings + triggers: mentions of the nuclear war, pregnancy, future, a cancer cure, dystopia turning into utopia? → Author’s note(1): this is just a really short drabble for the sweet anon that wanted to know if OC and Yoongi got cancer free or not, and also just an epilogue to the story [link to the request]. So here it is 💕 → Read on AO3? [link]

[navi]: end of the world // end of the world: a flickering hope // shower drabble // whalien52 // end of the world: epilogue

Your hand finds its way over your tummy. Your very round tummy. 

You smile at your boyfriend, your rock through this whole nightmare of a world. And now you’re going to bring life into a broken, but healing world.

You had discussed endlessly as soon as you found out you were pregnant, debating if bringing a child into a dystopian world was even a good idea. The idea of putting a tiny human into this shattered world seemed impossible, but you and Yoongi didn’t use protection all the time, and it’s really your own fault. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

But you’re okay with it. The thought doesn’t seem as terrifying as it did a few years ago when the war started. That wouldn’t have been a good life to bring a child into. But now? With the way the world is gradually healing and things are beginning to be better, you think this time is alright. The New World Order is gone, there’s no longer an elitist group at the top, people are free to do as they please, and most importantly, all information is free. 

You think of cancer, not just for you and Yoongi, but for many of the world’s population who suffered due to the radiation after the bombings. Seokjin has been working nonstop since Jimin got the important data from the New World Order. Sadly, it wasn’t a cure as you’d all hoped, but now, years later, Seokjin has practically been living in his lab. And he has finally succeeded in making a cure.

A cure for cancer.

You can hardly believe it, but he has.

You and Yoongi were the first to get it, and after, Seokjin studied your tissue and cells tirelessly to make sure that no cancer cells were left. And they’re all gone. You’re cancer free.

Seokjin has made a cancer cure that is free for everyone.

And you think the world is truly healing. People are happy again, people are smiling.

Cities are slowly being rebuilt. People can go to the doctor, dentist, and have showers—everything that was taken away when the nuclear war started. Everything is almost back to normal, but you can still feel the scars, and you think they’ll always be there. You must not forget all the horrible things that happened to make this possible for everyone. 

The sun is shining every day. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it storms. The greenery is slowly getting its life back thanks to the sun and its photosynthesis. Watching trees, bushes, and plants grow is amazing to you, and it makes you feel alive. Hopeful. 

You glance at Yoongi, his eyes filled with a tenderness that mirrors your own feelings. Together, you will bring new life into this world, nurturing it with the love and hope that has sustained you through the darkest times. You place your hand over his, resting on your belly, and in that simple touch, you feel the promise of a brighter future.

The nightmare of the last few years has been gruesome, and you’ve all endured so much, but you’ve finally made it, thanks to the wonderful people at Whalien52. You can’t imagine what you would have done without them.

Taehyung has helped build a house for you and Yoongi, a secluded sanctuary reminiscent of the one Yoongi had all those years ago. You can already picture its beauty in a few years when the greenery truly takes hold.

You meet up with the crew almost daily, cherishing their company. The guys have been joking about who should be a godfather to your unborn child. Even though you don’t really believe in God, you like the idea of someone taking care of your child in case something happens to you. And you already know that someone is Jungkook.

“Excited?” Yoongi asks, his hand finding its way on top of yours on your tummy again.

You hum softly. “Yeah,” you say, turning to face him. “I just hope everything will be fine.”

“Of course it will, babe,” he replies with conviction, his voice filled with so much emotion. “You’re strong and incredible. Think about all you’ve been through. You’ll be an amazing mom.”

You smile, hoping he’s right. You’ll borrow his words and repeat them to yourself over and over until they become true. You have been through so much—surviving a nuclear war, getting sick with cancer, getting shot, starving, and now being cured. It has been a hell of a ride, but you made it.

You kiss him deeply, lovingly.

You and Yoongi are now researchers working under Seokjin, trying to develop cures for other diseases. You truly want to save everyone. This dedication to research is also fueled by your desire to create the best possible world for your child. You want the best for them.

You gaze out the window from what will be your child’s room; the view outside is a mix of brown and green, mostly dirt, but grass is beginning to peek through the ground, and small trees are growing in the backyard. It’s going to be great. You’ve finally made it to the other side, and you wonder if this horrible dystopia you’ve endured will transform into a utopia one day.

“I’m so happy this wasn’t the end of the world,” you quip, Yoongi’s hand still resting on yours, on your tummy.

“Me too. It’s just the beginning,” he says, and you feel his words reverberate through your body. It truly is just the beginning—the beginning of a wonderful life for you, your child, and everyone else.

→ Taglist:@idkjustlovingbts@lovelgirl22@gimeow@sweeetas@viankiss @goldietigers294 @this-most-assuredly-counts @futuristicenemychaos @funnygirls-things @ysljoon @livingformintyoongi @as-hs-blog @urmomluvsrose @yasmineixyjay @purpleheartsandarock1 @alextgef @coree730 @wobblewobble822 @coldcoffee2121 @zzoguri

okay fuck you tumblr for not making the tags work! rip, I don't get why it isn't tagging people *cries*

→ Author’s note(2): I know this was really, really short. I could probably have done a lot more, but I’m not really feeling it a lot in terms of writing. I was nice to revisit this couple though, and I hope this reassures everyone that they are fine and safe 🫶 Thank you for reading this story and series! I hope I improve my writing soon, but I might just take a break… I don’t know. I’m not in the best place, but writing helps me escape, but it’s also not the thing I wanna do when I feel like everything I write is crap? 🥲 Ahahaha. 

[i-starcreamed]

Hi hi friend I have a request for you :)

can you do a bumblebee x reader where the reader was like his partner back on cybertron and they like bumblebee thinks their dead until like their pod shows up on earth

can be any pronouns please and thank you

idk if this is in character and perhaps this is mostly angst but...partners reuniting. i hope this is what u meant!!

TFP Bumblebee x Cybertronian!Reader

The Groundbridge swirled with a green color as it opened in a deserted area. The bot's surroundings were covered by trees and Earth's greenery, despite being beautiful it was not the type of terrain that was easy to travel in. Ratchet had caught a new energon signal on their scanner, it was no deception signal or raw energon, but it was rather a sign of another cybertronian.

It was a mystery as to why they landed now if most of them had landed years ago, but the entire team went to investigate the mystery pod nonetheless.

There buried in the ground, was the escape pod. Optimus Prime was in front as the team had his back, all held their blasters and aimed it at the pod in case danger was near. As they neared, they could almost let out a sigh of relief to see that it wasn't a deception pod, but they still didn't know who exactly was inside. The team slowly dropped their blasters as they neared the pod.

"Who could it be?" Arcee crossed her arms as she tried peering inside the fogged-up glass. Optimus still held his blaster as Bulkhead neared the pod, using his strength to open the latch.

"I am not sure yet, Arcee. But everyone, stay alert." He took a step closer to the pod, and everyone cautiously followed suit. The latch was lifted off it's hinges to reveal a [color] bot, a couple scratches, and dents littered their frame as they lay unconscious. While the rest of the team wasn't phased, Bumblebee nearly malfunctioned right on the spot. It couldn't be...could it? He thought it was impossible, that he would never see you again. The last time he saw you, your hideout on Cybertron was raided by Decepticons and you had stayed behind. The amount of guilt that troubled him even on Earth was unbearable, he thought you had offlined. He thought he had lost you.

"Bumblebee?"

Optimus' voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he didn't realize he was still staring at you as his servos slightly shook. Optimus looked at him expectedly with a concerned look across his faceplates. He faced the Autobot leader and responded with a series of beeps.

"I know them! They're Y/N, m-my partner. I thought they were dead, I thought I got them killed, I thought-" Bleeps and beeps came out jumbled and were barely discernible by even those who understood him. His servos gestures all around before he looked at you again. He tried to reach for your body before Optimus placed a firm servo on his shoulder.

"We should get them to base first, Bumblebee. It is not safe out here for them, the two of you will have your chance to talk once Ratchet tends to them." He sent him a hint of a sympathetic look, he knew how much Bee wanted to hold you and speak to you again right now, but Decepticons could be near. In the end, Bumblebee nodded and carefully took your body from the pod, carrying you all the way back.

Bumblebee fussed about you all while Ratchet took care of your minor injuries and as you were waking up. In a room full of bots you didn't recognize, a bright yellow mech caught your optics as soon as you onlined. Even you couldn't believe it, your optics locked and you swore you felt so young again, if only just for a split second. Suddenly you were staring at the same Bumblebee you thought you lost, the one who you thought you would never see again. Also the same bot who you had fallen in love with when everything was okay on Cybertron. You were both different now, having plenty of experience in a war that was ongoing and uncompromising. That seemed to not matter as you both embraced each other, your grip tight as you wrapped your arms around him. You expected to hear his voice greeting you, but instead, bleeps and fragments of cybertronian came out of his vocalizer.

"Oh, Bee..what happened?" You gently asked as you still held onto him, it still felt impossible for you to be reunited with him again, and yet he felt the same way. He shook his helm and held your servos in his.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, Y/N." The beeps whined as he gazed at you with his bright blue optics. Despite all the years he'd gone without you, you were the only bot that he held dear to his spark. It would be a tough adjustment, getting used to Earth and having to know about the still ongoing war; but being with Bee would make it better. A lot better.

[strawberrystepmom]

i love you more than being seventeen

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

word count: 2.7k

about: all that kento can think about at the end is you and you and you.

contents: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, JJK SHIBUYA ARC SPOILERS. mutual pining over the course of many years, angst, no happy ending i’m sorry :( but the story itself has a few cute moments

notes: this is a repost from my old blog. title is from evening sun by the strokes! i still love this fic so much and it’s one of my favorite things i’ve ever written BUT there have been edits made and the ending is a little different. same impact, just more concise. thanks for reading!!!!

divider is thanks to @/cafekitsune

When Nanami's consciousness begins to fade, darkness enveloping the edges of his vision, one of the things he can recall most clearly is you.

You're 15, it's your first day of high school. You're the only person in your class, just like him. He's graduating this year and has already mentally checked out, doing just enough to get through, but he can see how anxious you look. The sleeves of your uniform are a bit too long, he wonders if it's on purpose like his are and your backpack is clearly brand new and covered in pins you probably picked out just for your first day. 

A breeze picks up and blows the hem of your pleated skirt, exposing the skin just above your knee and he looks away immediately although you certainly can’t tell he’s even looking at you. Assessing you, the better term perhaps.

“Can you help me?”

A sweet and uncertain voice asks him. It belongs to you and he’s surprised that you asked him. It doesn’t take a very intelligent person to take one look at a 17-year-old Kento and see that he isn’t necessarily the approachable type. He isn’t unkind but his face is just as solemn as it will be when he grows up, mouth always set in a firm line. 

“Sorry, you’re probably busy,” you mumble and he shakes his head, hiking the strap of his bag back up over his shoulder. “It’s alright. First day?” You nod, your uncertainty obvious in every one of your movements as you grip the straps of your backpack tightly. 

“Someone was supposed to meet me here otherwise I wouldn’t be bothering you,” you explain as the two of you walk toward the sweeping entrance to the school itself. Your eyes widen as you take in the pillars and stairs, the greenery and flowers - it’s grand to say the least. Part of Nanami is amused watching you take it all in but he focuses on the task at hand. “It’s alright, like I said,” he starts and clears his throat. “Do you know who you’re supposed to be meeting?”

Your brow furrows, as if you’re thinking really hard, and you scrunch your nose.

“Gojo?”

Nanami rolls his eyes at the mere sound of the name. Of course he’s late and left you standing outside of the school, confused and alone. He knows that Gojo is technically his sensei now and he should respect him but he finds him just distasteful enough that it serves better to ignore him than to feed into his nonsense.

“Yeah, he does that,” Nanami shoots back cooly as he walks beside you up the steps. The zippers on your backpack jingle and he’s shot back into reality, ringing in his ears loud enough to quiet the sound of pumping blood. 

He swears you can hear you call his name through the chaos, the footsteps and the screeching, but he closes his eyes. Tightly. Tries to concentrate on the source of the sound before realizing it’s in his own head, the cinematic reel in his head playing on a strange loop of fragmented pieces of his life spent wishing for you.

You.

The two of you are thigh to thigh inside of a photo booth, music playing through the little speaker underneath the tiny screen where you can see your two faces. 

Kento isn’t sure how you roped him into this, an evening away from the school and in the city something you probably both needed, but it feels correct and inappropriate at the same time. The last few months have given him tiny glimpses into your life through the shared area of the student dorms. 

He knows that you leave your shoes wherever you carry them after you take them off with a disgruntled whine. He dutifully places them next to your door when he sees them, the soles touching and the toes of each shoe pointed toward the wall.

He knows that you stay up too late watching television when you should be studying, the fighting noises of shonen anime coming from beneath the door of your room or the common room while you giggle or gasp along. He always wraps you in a blanket his grandmother made him when you fall asleep on the couch, drool crusting over on the corner of your lips.

He would do these things for no one else and he believes that strange dedication he feels to your comfort has led him here, long legs jutting out in front of him a nearly too small photo booth. Your bare thigh is pressed against the side of his jeans and he finds it hard to breathe with the sweet smell of your floral shampoo filling the entire left side of this enclosed space.

Fight or flight begins to kick in as the situation overwhelms him but you place a comforting hand on his forearm and smile easily, reminding him that the countdown is about to begin and to smile. He doesn’t smile but the corner of his mouth quirks in a way that you find adorable enough to giggle at, your big smile filling the screen as the flash snaps the first of four photos.

“Another! Make a funny face this time,” you order and Kento nods, lifting the other side of his lips in what one could almost call a smile while you stick out your tongue and hold two of your fingers up in bunny ears behind his head.

You like him. Even Gojo has noticed it, calling you out during your last mission with him.

“So…Nanami?” He asked with a little sideways grin and you groaned in frustration and stomped away. Satoru knew it then. 

The shutter clicks and the flash explodes and you withdraw your fingers from behind Kento’s blonde head, feeling compelled to barely touch the top of it with your pointer finger. His hair is soft, brushed in front of his face, and you think you’ll remember the electric zap you feel like your heart forever as you gather your hands back in your lap.

Nanami assesses you carefully and shifts closer to you and you feel heat rise into your cheeks. The tips of your ears are warm and dangerously close to the side of his face and you look down just in time for the camera to click and to capture the top of your head and the side of his face. 

You laugh, shaking your head as the two of you compose yourselves long enough for the final photo and you gasp a little when Kento hovers his face just inches from yours. Your soft cheek nearly touches his cheekbone and you fist the fabric of your skirt to keep from freaking out as you grin. 

Giddiness rises inside of you, the proximity to the older boy sending your mind reeling with possibilities. You even notice both corners of Kento’s mouth have risen in a sort of smile as the final camera shutter sounds and the two of you file out of the booth and you reach to grasp the strip of photos, easily tearing it in half.

“Why did you do that?” 

Nanami asks, brow furrowed as he watches you look over the sets of photos contained in each of the pieces of the strip. You hold the one with the last two photos out toward him, the top photo showing him staring at the top of your head and the bottom his attempt at a smile. 

“Half for me and half for you,” you respond easily. 

He wishes all of this came that easily for him. These feelings, these moments, this tender sense of compassion he feels just for you. 

As the memory leaves, he’s reminded that the same strip of photos lives in the wallet in his left back pocket. Buried beneath business cards and bandages, a talisman to bring him back to you even when the two of you were separated after he graduated and left the school.

He hates thinking of those times, those years where he left you behind, but he’s too weak to will those memories away for better ones. The waves of his consciousness drift to another piece of his life, those lost years. His graduation. The ignored text messages.

“Happy birthday, Nanami-san! Miss you and hope to see you soon. Have a great day.”

He opened the message on his 22nd birthday and left it on read, just as he had with the message on his 21st, his 20th, his 19th. You’ve wondered several times if he changed his number and didn't let anyone know.

You’re 19, a year past your own graduation and you are working as a full time sorcerer. You aren’t particularly challenged in your role but you find it fulfilling in its own strange way. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you sigh as you scroll through the messaging thread and an indescribable wistfulness falls over you.

You’d go back and do it all differently if you could. Beg him to stay, encourage him in the work of a sorcerer, but that would make you selfish. Keeping him here would have been for you and not for him and there’s nothing saying you had the power to convince him anyway. 

Locking your phone, you drop it on the table and walk to the fridge where your half of the photo strip sits on the fridge all of these years later. It’s tucked beneath a magnet that holds up a copy of the graduation invitation you sent Kento last year. You texted him, asking if he’d like to come and perhaps you should have taken the hint back then. 

He doesn’t want to be friends anymore.

The realization hits you at once and you open the fridge, plucking out leftovers, and shut it with an unenthusiastic slam. Padding back toward your living room, you pick up your phone and unlock the device. The screen still shows your text message thread with Nanami and against your better judgment, you type. Thumbs moving thunderously, you continue typing until you feel satisfied you have laid it out for him and your finger hovers over the message. Pressing down, you try to highlight the text to erase it but instead you slip and hit the send button.

“Fuck!” You shout loud enough you’re certain that your neighbor will file another noise complaint and you feel more horrified reading over your words the second time.

Kento’s phone pings from where it sits on his desk, another late night in front of the computer keeping him from doing anything enjoyable on his special day. He doesn’t bother to check the sender, knowing it’s probably something asinine from a client or a coworker, but his eyes widen as he sees the preview of the paragraph sent with your name attached.

“It’s okay if you hate us now but it would be nice to know that you’re alright,” his eyes scan each word carefully and he isn’t surprised by their bite but he feels guilty. Raw and bubbling deep in his gut, feelings he contained through college and far beyond surfacing in ways he didn’t expect. “I was your friend. I still want to be and hopefully someday you will let me.” 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looks over the honest appraisal of his character (“you’re a good person and that will always be true”), the tough love approach you tested halfway through (“I don’t want to do this job any more than you did and here I am”), and finally the thing you wanted to erase the most before you sent it.

“I’ll always love you even if you’ve never had it in you to do the same for me.”

He wonders for a moment if you mean that. Do you love him? Did you feel it back then the same way he did? The syrupy light feeling in your limbs, the heaviness in your head every time the two of you would study or eat or spend time together.

Setting his phone back down, he wonders for a moment how much sending that message cost you considering the length and if he should respond. Was this your goodbye? A way of finally freeing him from your mind? 

Before he has time to truly think about it, his desk phone rings despite the time of day and he answers it with a sigh.

You look down at your screen and once again see a delivered notification with no sign of any other life on the other side.

“Kento!”

He’s glad you’ve dropped the formalities even if the timing is bad, his fatigued body stumbling in your direction. The smell of burnt flesh fills the air and blurry vision still shows him your face, gasping as you run to meet him from halfway across the train station that feels cavernous.

The last time he heard you shout his name was when he arrived back at the gate of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, an employee ID card clipped to his slacks and his cursed tool snug in the harness strapped across his broad back. It’s new and familiar all at the same time and he hates thinking of the smug look on Gojo’s face when he called him to ask to come back.

“I wonder why,” Satoru teased from the other end of the phone. 

Nanami only sighed from the other end, the two of them continuing their quick back and forth and scheduling a time where they could meet with the administration at the school. Their conversation is quick and polite but the final words out of his old friend's mouth are what remind him of the first domino that fell and led him back to these stone steps. “She’ll be glad to see you again.”

You’re standing across the courtyard and he’s surprised to see you for the first time in 6 years. You look the same as you did on that first day in a lot of ways. A pleated skirt, breeze lifting the hem just slightly away from your bare thighs. He doesn’t bother to look away this time, the peek of skin enough to send heat up his neck.

“Kento!” You shout again, hopping and running in his direction. He shakes his head as your heavy boots smack against the pavement and before he can blink, you’re in front of him with a grin. “Holy shit!” 

Ever humble, he nods in your direction and tips his chin toward the ground to hide a burgeoning smile. He looks the same but different, just like you. The sides of his hair are shorter than you’ve ever seen them, the longer top slicked away from his face. He’s handsome - he always has been and you try to ignore the little fluttering feeling inside of your chest and in your stomach. 

“Welcome back,” your final choice on what to say as you clap your palm against his shoulder and he smiles at the familiar feeling. He never thought he’d experience it again. 

“Hey,” he says and you look up at him. The sunlight frames your face in a way he wants to memorize forever, emblazoned in a metaphorical heart shaped locket in his mind. He wants to look at you every day. He hates that he let pride keep him from doing that. Exhaling, he says the words he has wanted to since you were 15 and he was 17.

“I love you.”

The sound of your heavy boots across cement and tile are what he chooses to focus on as you continue your mad dash in his direction, his lips mumbling those three words over and over. He knows you can’t save him and he has come to terms with that reality but he wants to see you standing in front of him one last time. To see a breeze blow the edge of that skirt up just enough he can picture where he’d put his hands on your thighs if he ever had the chance. 

Before you can make it the distance, so close to him you can read his lips, his words change. You think you know what he was saying before his stumbling continued but that patchwork curse steps in front of him and blocks him from your view. 

“You’ve got it from here.”

He points in the direction of Yuuji Itadori who is on the opposite side of you and you turn your head to look at the pink haired young man for a single moment, confused.

You gasp when you turn back toward Kento and he’s gone.

He’s gone.

[1d1195]

Zipper Extra VI

Read the rest of Zipper here

@jhughesangel for you :)

Some cavity inducing sweetness (hopefully)

P.S. Sorry I'm writing about the holiday season. Again. I'm sure that's tiring but fall/winter is my favorite time of year and it makes for the most romance in my brain.

~2.2k words

The moment she opened her eyes she was greeted with Harry’s gorgeous green eyes gazing at her. “God you’re pretty,” he murmured, and she felt a bit dizzy hearing it from his lips—Harry was pretty, too.

On the first of the month, she began baking. Harry had seen her in action at her place, but now it was their place and coming home some nights after she did to an apartment that smelled like cookies, cinnamon, and apples. It was heavenly and more than ever he wished with everything in him that he hadn’t waited so long to have this moment.

Every space of the apartment was decorated with red berries and greenery and other Christmas décor. The tree stood in the window of the living room overlooking the town. It was beautiful and magical. Harry didn’t even have a tree, the last few years which pained her to no end. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t have one prior to them dating either. The only Christmas tree he saw was the one at his mum’s house. Or at her place.

But they were living together, now. So, every holiday was warm and inviting. It felt like home when he was there. She made it make sense. “S’not our anniversary, right?” He asked, coming to stand behind her. His hands pressed onto the counter on either side of her as he pressed his lips to the curve of her neck as a gentle hello. The rest of his body was warm against her back, his body encasing her between the bowl of chocolate and Harry.

Turning her head as much as she could to get a peripheral look at him, she licked the excess frosting off her thumb, she shook her head. “No, baby. Wrong month,” she giggled.

Harry wrinkled his nose “M’sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted.

“It’s okay. I’ve never really been one for anniversaries,” she shrugged. Yet she always has a present for me. He thought to himself with a frown. “I mean...” she noted the way his body deflated with a sigh. “I think I love you pretty well every day...I think there are worse things in life than forgetting a card or a day where you finally came to your senses,” she twisted in his embrace, and she brought the tip of her finger to his lips so he could have a tasted of the frosting. It was silly and romantic all at once. He gave her finger a gentle bite inciting the most beautiful, little giggle from her. “Does that make sense?” She asked.

“So I should be giving y’a gift every day because m’in love with you all the time,” he nodded with a half grin.

“No,” she laughed and rested her forehead on his chest. “No way. Your gifts? We’d be broke.”

“It would be worth it,” he murmured. “I’d spend every penny I had on you.”

“Absolutely not what I want.”

He chuckled rubbing his hand up and down her spine. “Did you have a good day?”

She nodded. “I won my case,” she murmured into his chest.

“Y’don’t sound very excited over the good news, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head.

“It didn’t feel like winning,” she mumbled. “Sometimes fighting for the top dog doesn’t feel very good.”

Her poor sweet soul. “S’never made any sense t’me that someone as sweet as you would be a corporate lawyer.”

“M’good at it,” she said defensively and pouted as she looked up at him.

“I know you’re good at it, angel,” he nodded. “S’not a question. But morally, your heart is jus’ so much nicer,” he kissed the top of her head. “M’surprised y’don’t cry in court sometimes.”

“S’really hard sometimes,” she admitted.

“Y’don’t have t’be a corporate lawyer if y’don’t want.”

“Yeah...but then I wouldn’t have an office next to yours. We wouldn’t have lunch together..." Harry felt a pang of adoration shoot through him. Like she had personally squeezed the veins of his heart just as a reminder that he adored her so much. "And you’d make way more money than me and I wouldn’t be able to afford living here.”

“Y’could live here for free,” he rolled his eyes--as if money would keep him from her. “Jus’ make y’pay me in kisses...and other things.”

She tilted her head up to look at his face while he gazed down at her. “I love you,” she smiled.

He grinned and shook his head. “Thank goodness,” he murmured and attached his lips to hers. They tasted of chocolate, love, sweetness, and happiness. Perfectly her.

*

She didn’t like having a blindfold on—especially in public and without a clue of where they were headed. It was chilly but her coat was warm, and Harry had his arm firmly around her waist. One thing she trusted was that Harry would never let her fall. “I am already surprised Harry. Please let me take it off. I must look insane, and people are probably thinking you’re going to kidnap me.”

“I would love t’see someone try and kidnap you,” he chuckled. “Watch y’step, kitten,” he hummed and squeezed her tighter as he brought her up two steps. She had no sense of where they were—not by sight of course—but he had taken her around three different blocks in order to disorient her. The smells didn’t help either because it was a Saturday night. It was Christmas time, and everywhere in the little city smelled and sounded the same. “Think y’would argue with them about how they didn’t tie the blindfold tight enough.”

“The same cannot be said for you,” she wrinkled her nose trying to get the fabric to move around her face. “Is it weird? You’re not going to embarrass me are you?” She asked.

“What on earth d’you think m’going t’do, kitten?” He laughed. “We’re almost there, just a few more steps.”

“I don’t know. Maybe me accidentally taking your towel every morning has finally done you in and you’re going to murder me and hide my body.”

“Kitten, we’re around other people. Please don’t give them ideas.”

“I don’t think you would murder me. But statistically, you’re the one most likely to.”

“M’ignoring you,” he murmured. The people around them gave sympathetic and awkward smiles. “Okay, two steps,” he pressed his hand on her lower back. The back of her calf touched something solid but she hadn’t a clue where she was. It could have been anywhere. But they were still outside. Maybe it was just a bench? Or a wall by the fountain? She had no way of knowing.

“Am I going to be in a blindfold the entire night?”

“No, m’love. M’gonna take it off as soon as y’sit,” he said gently touching her hips to guide her to sitting on the seat behind her. She was quiet as Harry reached behind her head, the palms of his hands sliding softly against her cheeks as he reached. Before he undid the knot, he gently massaged his fingertips into her hair and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. It made her stomach flutter and she felt like she would explode from the way he made her feel.

The moment she opened her eyes she was greeted with Harry’s gorgeous green eyes gazing at her. “God you’re pretty,” he murmured, and she felt a bit dizzy hearing it from his lips—Harry was pretty, too. It took every bit of willpower to tear her eyes away from his gaze. His hand slid into her lap, and he twisted their fingers together while she took in the surroundings. There was a man directing a horse on a perched seat above them an older top hat on his head. The carriage they sat in was white, with red leather seats. Green garland with red berries and Christmas bows draped around them. A set of twinkly lights was hung around the little awning of the carriage as well. Her lips parted as the horse quietly pulled them around the park. There was a dusting of snow, Harry couldn’t have dreamed of a better day to do this. But it was perfect, exactly what he wanted.

Speechless. She was completely and totally speechless.

Harry watched her expression change about a thousand times in one minute trying to make sense of what was happening. “Y’okay, in there?” He asked cupping the side of her face and brushing his thumb on her cheek. “S’this...not what you wanted?” He asked feeling the nerves creep up.

Did she forget their anniversary? No... it wasn’t that. Did he do something wrong? Why was...how did he know?

Maybe this was just something she wanted to do with her ex-boyfriend and not Harry. Maybe this wasn’t something she wanted anymore. “Er...we can...stop, if y’want, kitten. I thought y’would want this...but...maybe I got it wrong, naturally. Thought y’would want to—”

She shook her head trying to shake some sense into her mind and get her brain cells to put together a coherent thought rather than just staring at the scene before her. “No...” she shook her head quickly. “No...this is...Harry this is perfect,” she whispered breathlessly.

He smiled and a relieved sigh left his lungs in the form of a nervous chuckle. “Oh...good,” he pressed his lips against her temple and watched her eyes scanning the park around her. They had been to the park about a thousand times on foot, but seated in a horse drawn carriage, it was as if she had never seen the trees and paths. The light displays and the children milling in front of their parents were completely new to her.

“How...how did you...did you ask my sister about this?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No...”

“Did I tell you about this?” But she was certain she didn’t. She hadn’t thought about a carriage ride in years.

“Uh...no,” he smiled awkwardly giving her hand a squeeze. “When we were studying one time...y’were all upset ‘bout your ex not planning dates or whatever. You were on the phone with your sister and y’said y’wanted a Christmas carriage ride.”

Her heart felt like it was melting. “You...heard that?” She sounded so stunned. Harry was a bit worried about her well-being. She seemed completely out of sorts. To him, this was the only thing that made sense. In fact, he should have planned this when they first started dating. In his mind, this was nearly three years too late. Lord, knew it was over a decade too late for her sweet self. “You...remember that?”

He smiled, squeezing her hand in her lap again. With his freehand he brought it to her face again and brushed his thumb across her face. “I know...I know y’have forgiven me for...how mean I was—”

“You weren’t mean.”

“Well, I wasn’t nice t’you, kitten. S’well as being mean. Y’deserve nothing but kindness. You’re the sweetest soul I know.” She wanted to respond but she felt like there was more he wanted to say, and her throat was closing around the warm emotion she felt the longer he spoke. “M’sorry, again. For all that I put you through.”

It wasn’t that bad. She couldn’t tell him enough. She knew it ate at him like nothing else, so she simply nodded. “I know you’re sorry. But really...it’s alright, baby. I know—”

“Shh,” he hushed pressing a finger to her lips. “M’not done.” She felt like the blindfold was placed around her lips at his words. It was so perfect. The right temperature, the right scene, the perfect guy.

“Okay,” she murmured.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever fully forgive myself,” he admitted. “But m’so glad I figured out how I felt. M’so sorry it took me s’long. More than being mean t’you...I don’t know if I’ll forgive myself for taking s’long. Wasting all that time we could have been together. But I don’t want t’waste time ever again,” he promised.

He kept hold of her hand as he shifted from the seat to the floor of the carriage balancing on one knee and digging into his coat pocket as if he did this all the time. He pinched the small box in his grip with his free hand. She couldn’t even see inside the box, but she knew that her heart was going to explode when she did. So, it was for the best that she didn’t get to see it. “Y’make me so happy. You’re m’favorite person t’wake up to. T’come home to. Before you, I never even thought ‘bout marriage. It only makes sense when I think ‘bout you,” he was rushing his words a bit. Like when he first told her how much he liked her and how he would be a shitty boyfriend.

He was anything but.

“I don’t know if I’ll get better at remembering anniversaries and birthdays but God, kitten. I want t’try with you. Because y’deserve the best and m’not sure if s’me that’s best for you but I want to be. I want t’take you on carriage rides and make sugar cookies with our little babies that will look jus’ like you and take them t’soccer practice on weekends. I know s’not anyone half s’beautiful as you, kitten. Inside or out,” he never made sense when he was spilling all the emotions directly from his heart, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She thought she might cry if he spoke any longer.

“Please, marry me,” he said finally, slowly at last.

They stared at each other silently for several moments.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank you.”

--

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@sunshinextemptress94

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[mumms-the-word]

So I’ve played a bit more Veilguard and y’all

Y’ALL

Y’AAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL

Spoilers below the cut (which I may turn into a lore post later idk)

UM SOUTHERN THEDAS IS DYING?

I have everything spoiler tagged and hidden, idk if people are talking about this but EXCUSE ME??

MY WARDENS AND HAWKES ARE IN DANGER

Okay but like let’s think about this for real (I'm going off memory from replaying the "meet the inquisitor" scene like 3-4 times so forgive any missed details; also I disbanded the Inquisition in this game so idk if that has an effect yet)

Inquisitor and Morrigan said that the south is under siege from a legion, an army, a swarm of darkspawn the likes of which Thedas has never seen. Thanks Ghilan’nain for creating new horrors. That sounds bad but then it gets worse

Denerim, a city that has canonically withstood the Fifth Blight and was the showdown site for a battle against a darkspawn army and an archdemon, is lost. We lost the capital of Ferelden.

Everyone is fleeing to Redcliffe, which is decently defensible but not impenetrable. Redcliffe has already suffered waves of undead and (theoretically) a super dark pseudo-future full of demons and red Templars and such. It stood up pretty well against both, but it’s not great if it’s Ferelden’s last stand against the darkspawn.

What about the Hinterlands? Amaranthine? Gwaren? Inquisitor writes that Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds are seeing surges of darkspawn again--that's where the darkspawn poured forth during the Fifth Blight. That's not good!

Orzammar is helping, but I can’t imagine they’re not also suffering. Are the darkspawn flooding the Deep Roads? Orzammar can’t defend against them forever if it’s worse than we think. Are the Legion of the Dead overwhelmed?

Kirkwall has fallen. A city that has withstood, within the last 25 years, a refugee crisis from the Fifth Blight, a violent qunari invasion, the explosion of their Chantry and the ensuing mage-templar chaos that nearly brought the city to its knees, and the Breach, which opened up dozens of Fade rifts in the city that Varric was still dealing with after the Breach was actually closed. It's gone, it's unlivable, so much so that the Acting Viscount had to evacuate her city and her army to freaking Starkhaven, which is usually their mortal enemy (Prince Sebastian Vael tends to want to annex or control Kirkwall smh)

(Also Aveline is Acting Viscount? that makes sense and also I love that for her, but man what a time to be in charge)

Ostwick, the home city for Trevelyans, is threatened by the rogue Antaam, so I can only imagine that Wycome, where a surviving Clan Lavellan would be, is also threatened by the Antaam (Wycome is closer to Antiva and Rivain anyway). And the rest of the Free Marches is apparently experiencing "the worst" of the darkspawn threat. How many cities other than Kirkwall have fallen? Like Ferelden, what's happening in the spaces between?

In Orlais, the darkspawn have apparently cut a line directly through the country. Both Halamshiral and Val Royeaux are barely holding out, which is partly surprising and partly not. Halamshiral and Val Royeaux are luxurious cities, not defensible fortresses. That said, they have the benefit of the Orlesian monarchy's standing army and the Divine's templar (or templar-equivalent) army, so perhaps that's why they're both still standing.

But I imagine the Exalted Plains, the Dales, the desert landscapes of the Western Approach (which already had lingering darkspawn threats)....those must be suffering. Are the Dales themselves blights, the greenery dying? Is the newly-healing land of the Plains now facing death and destruction again?

I mean, yes, the threat of the gods in the north is also very bad but I am stuck on this idea of trying to figure out how our beloved characters from the last three games are dealing with this! This is their turf!

We know the Inquisitor is running around trying to help but what about everyone else? Like, can you imagine...

How is Alistair doing, facing a blight that has been described as "worse than any blight the world has ever seen"? Either he's a warden and he's sick of dealing with this, or he's the king and he's facing the total annihilation of his kingdom again, only this time the odds are infinitely worse. Is his Warden wife fighting alongside him, or is his Queen helping him keep everything together?

What about Zevran? Is he staying in Antiva, causing chaos among the Antaam who have taken over various cities there, or does his Warden romance convince him to go down south to try and help? And Leliana? if she's Divine, she's likely manning the chantry's armed forces, but if not, where is she operating? Is she with her lover, the Warden, or if she's alone, is she back in the game of fielding information to all the necessary forces who need them? She's not the Inquisition spymaster anymore, but that doesn't mean she's not active

Aveline is fleeing to Starkhaven, where Sebastian is, and Varric is with us in the lighthouse. Isabela is with the Lords of Fortune. What about the rest? Did Merrill flee with Aveline? Is Hawke with them? Or is Hawke with Anders, or Fenris, fighting wherever they need to be? (Assuming, of course, they're not left in the Fade). What about Bethany or Carver, if they're alive? If they're Wardens, surely they're in the thick of it, fighting darkspawn. If they're not, have they gone with Aveline to Starkhaven?

And our DAI friends. Cullen is in Ferelden--has he joined forces at Redcliffe, if he's not romancing the Inquisitor? Is his family okay? Dorian is in Minrathous, we can safely assume Josephine is in Antiva City. I can only assume Josephine is trying her best to keep Antiva City safe through her connections and influence, but how long until events there force her to leave too?

Cassandra is from Nevarra so she may be home, or she's Divine, or she's traveling. If she isn't with her romanced Inquisitor and she isn't the Divine, surely she's out there fighting. Against what? Venatori in Nevarra? Or will her allegiances to Orlais bring her down there to aid a Divine Leliana? Sera is still in Orlais too, presumably, as a Jenny that helps the Divine. Are they both facing the darkspawn threat?

If Blackwall is a Warden, is he even still alive? If he's not a Warden, I can imagine he's back in the Free Marches, fighting darkspawn until his dying breath. Iron Bull and his Chargers, too, if they're all alive from DAI. Whether he's in Orlais, Ferelden, the Free Marches, or passing near Tevinter to be with Dorian, he and his team must be constantly dealing with the blight and the gods acting crazy. Unless, of course, he or Blackwall are with the Inquisitor, fighting right there on the front lines.

Vivienne has probably rallied mages in whatever Circle she's established to help, but help how? Joining the forces of the Divine, or leading a campaign of her own? If Cole is human, is he finding little ways of helping, or has he been human so long that he's forgotten how? If he's a spirit, he's back beyond the Veil. Does the chaos in the south now draw him back? How can a spirit of Compassion, whether human or spirit, deal with what is happening all across Thedas?

I have so many thoughts. And I will probably write fic about it. It all just keeps churning in my head. I love it. It's horrifying. The game may have moved on very quickly from it but boy oh boy am I thinking about my Wardens and Hawkes and Inquisitors and going "What are you going to do?? The world is dying!!"

If I learn more I'll turn this into a lore post that isn't hidden by a cut, but for now I have some mural memories to live through (time to cry about Solas again) and then it's side quest city babyyyy so idk when I'll have an update again lol

if you made it this far, well done :') appreciate you

thank for joining me in this chaos!

[rocketyship]

BE’s Angel’s + the world idea

The Seven Trumpets

Okay so super simplified there was a war and the world was devastated, only coming to an end when an Angel came from heaven, bringing seven stars with her and slaying the beast that had ravaged the earth. Following the war, the angels declared that humanity is incapable of taking care of itself and needs them to rebuild the world. Thus came the seven gardens and heaven’s monolith.

Each Angel governs a one of the gardens which are as follows (featuring pictures from Pinterest to convey an idea)

Meadow

Governed by Doir. The meadow is one of the smaller gardens, mainly consisting of the humans who had been the least injured in the battle and are mostly young adults. (Humans only began living in the gardens 100 years after a stasis). This Garden is much like a small country side village, with the sole goal of keeping the humans as happy and healthy as possible. Doir herself typically appears like holograms around the area, and personality wise is kind of a valley girl stereotype all be it she is incredibly intelligent and very knowingly putting on a show for the humans she watches. To those who were saved by her during the conflict actually know her to be more brutal than she lets on, although they know better than to say anything.

The two of the humans here: Evan and Tiffany

Paster

Governed by LAMB, the general area is very similar to that of the meadow, however the main difference besides the bizarre amount of sheep that wonder the area, generally houses children and contains educational facilities also ran by LAMB. LAMB herself is soft spoken, small, and seemingly harmless and childlike herself: however she is in fact one of the eldest angels and simply takes on a form that she believes to be the most comforting to the children under her care. She is the most protective and because of this entering the Paster is near impossible from any one or even the other angels to do so.

Naomi resides here

Eden

An area where the flora and wildlife of the old world returns. A large area, and least populated, mainly by biologists and other experts. Eve is a silent creature, however she is ever watchful nicknamed the eyes of the heavens by the humans around her. Eden is ever growing, getting bigger and bigger, its plant life and animals (all biologically altered by Eve) are shipped to the other gardens constantly and has the end goal of repopulating the endless snowy surface of the earth in the lush greenery of the past.

Labyrinth

All the humans (with some exceptions) here are currently still in stasis. Paige the most robotic of the angels. Cold and calculating, he has a goal to create rapid human evolution and study to create the perfect humans to repopulate the planet. He is not the most liked amongst the angels but he doesn’t really care. As whilst he does love the humans like the other angels, he goes about it in very questionable ways.

Becky resides here.

Sanctuary

Guarded by Uriel, this garden is a large industrial city, built over the ruins New York, this area is the most populated. Its geography being that of a dense forest that gradually fades into the main city. Its lower levels are flooded, full of marine life of all kinds. Although it’s up for debate which are real fish and which aren’t. During the war Uriel was the main combatant against the machines destroying the world. She is large, ruthless, and constantly policing her city to ensure the best possible outcomes and work ethics. This garden has the largest population.

Gloria resides here

The Crypt

Behold the Mercy of night, where the calamity at last sleeps.

No humans rest here. No soul ever seeks. The crypt is there for a reason. Marah must stay in her chrysalis. No matter the cost

Gone

He’s gone. An angel ripped from heaven. The Garden missing, its inhabitants lost.

[fayetape]

“Flame” by Fayetape

Finnick Odair x Reader

Word count: 1854

CW: Angst, typical THG stuff

Summary of series: Reader and Finnick met when they were very young. They experience the horrors of Panem together as they grow up. Throughout the years they fight for a happy ending. Whatever that may look like… Angst/Fluff/Smut/Series/Minimal use of Y/N!

Important note: The reader starts out very young but there is a time skip, don’t worry!

Hey everyone! My name is Faye. This is my first story I’ve ever published on here. I’m very new to this. This is the first part of my series “Flame” I hope you guys enjoy! Feel free to leave any constructive criticism or suggestions in the comments :)

Chapter One: Promises

A short white dress was displayed on her twin-sized mattress. The dress was beautiful. White and lacy. Tied with small, delicate ribbons on the shoulders and in the middle of the chest. Any other day she would have been delighted to have found such a gift. She knew what it meant. Reaping day. Her first one too. All the people of district four get dressed up in their sunday-best to be forced to watch as two of their children ages 12-18 get sent off to the games, almost certain to die. This time her life was part of the draw. She had no other choice but to put on the dress. Against her own will she kept thinking about this process as if it was one of her last times ever to do such a simple thing. Last time undressing. Last time tying a ribbon. She sighed anxiously and put on a pair of white tights and black buckle mary-janes. It felt like she was preparing herself to die or dressing herself up for her own funeral. She heard the sizzle and cracks of her mom cooking in the kitchen. Her mother had been quiet lately. She had a thought. It’s because she knows her daughter has a chance to be taken from her, even when her daughter is all she has, the capitol spares no mercy. Disturbed by these thoughts, the girl walked past her mother without saying a word, only exchanging a sullen glance as she turned the handle of the front door.

“Y/N! Hey!” a recognizable voice yelled in the distance.

“Finnick! Hi.” She was excited to see him, but today there could only be but so much happiness in her voice.

He walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulder, “I like your dress.”

She didn’t say anything in response.

“Look, I know today is scary, but your name is only in that bowl once out of hundreds of other slips. You’re gonna be fine.”

Finnick was older. He had already gone through the horrors of being part of the reaping for two years now. He knew how to navigate it, at least more than she did. He took upon himself some unassigned duty to protect her from the moment they met. This was the one thing he couldn’t shield her from and it made him feel unsettled. The very least he could do is be realistic and try his best to console her. He looked down at her. She was still quiet. He let go of her shoulder and held her hand. He stroked her hand with his thumb and led her into a nearby field. They would go here when things got hard. Not that they would talk about it much. Not many people knew about it or dared to explore it. Technically it was off-bounds to district four and they knew they could get in a lot of trouble with the peacekeepers. Regardless, they both agreed that a little bit of risk was healthy. He checked in all directions to make sure nobody was watching before he reached ahead to pull branches aside to clear a path. The landscape never failed to hypnotize them. A luscious field with an array of diverse greenery and wildflowers sloping down a hill to the marsh. The sound of light wind blowing through the grass and the small creek bubbling instantly calmed their nerves. Even Finnicks, as much as he tried to hide his fear.

They pushed through the tall grass onto the path they carved out several years ago. Walking until they got to the bottom of the tall, gentle hill. He always loved the water. He let go of her hand and he sat down on the damp ground. He shot her a glance proposing her to sit down.

“I don’t want to get my dress dirty.”

“You mean your MOM doesn’t want you to get your dress dirty. Since when did you care about dirt?”

He was right. She lifted up the skirt of her dress and sat down on a patch of grass that looked cleaner than the rest.

He looked over at her, a few feet away, “Not gonna dare to get any closer, huh?” He always flirted like this. Bold enough to get her attention, but sly enough to give her plausible deniability.

“Today is the one day I can’t get messy. Tomorrow I’ll take more of a risk, okay?”

He laughed, “See? You do know that it is going to be okay!”

“What?”

“You said tomorrow. You know deep down that it’s gonna be fine.”

She rolled her eyes, “I just forgot about it for a second..”

That was good enough for him. They sat in silence for a few minutes listening to the sounds of the bugs and frogs in the marsh.

“Hey,” he said.

“I’m not moving closer.”

“Fine.” He scooted closer to her.

Instinctively she put her head on his shoulder. He smiled.

“Finn? Can you promise me something?”

“Yes?”

“Promise you’ll always take care of me like this ?”

“Yes.” He said without any hesitation.

“You promise?”

“Of course.”

“I need to hear you say it,” she said.

“I promise. You know I’ll always take care of you. I won’t leave you alone, love.”

After that she just stared at him for a while, “Okay,” she said and looked back at the morning sky.

“Hey,” he said in a quiet voice.

She looked over at him and he nervously grabbed her chin and pulled her in. She didn’t resist. The two stared at each other with their faces so close before he leaned in and gave her a swift kiss on the lips before letting go.

They sat in silence for a bit. “Was that okay?” He asked nervously.

Through slightly labored breath she said, “Yeah. Of course.”

He smiled, “Was I your first?”

“No,” She giggled playfully.

Matching her demeanor, “Yeah right.”

“How would you know? Maybe I kissed that boy on Dove Street.”

“You don’t even know his name!” He exclaimed, “Plus I worked my ass off to keep those dumbass neighborhood boys

off of you.”

“Yeah whatever!” She said and swept sand onto his lap.

He dramatically put his hand over his chest, “How could you!” and splashed dirty water in her direction.

“Finnick!”

“You started it!” It was too

late, her dress was already muddied. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Baby?”

“Sorry. Was that not okay?” he asked her.

“No. No. It’s okay,” she paused, “Are we dating?”

He laughed at her innocence. “If that’s what you want.”

“Is that what you want?” she asked anxiously.

“Of course.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay then,” he confirmed.

Just as he was about to kiss her again, they heard the sound of the warning bell.

“Shit.” He pulled her up and they ran back up the hill away towards their town.

Once they got out of the field they ran their separate ways towards their houses, breathlessly exchanging goodbye glances.

Panting and sweating she ran across the railroad tracks towards her small house. Slowing down once she could see the white paint chipping off the frame. She heard the front screen door slam shut.

“Where have you been?” Her mother yelled, “What the hell happened to your dress?���

Catching her breath she tried to find a believable excuse. Before she could explain her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her inside.

“Were you with that boy again? He’s so disrespectful.”

Her mother was always one to hold a grudge. She couldn’t let go of the time that Finnick purposely broke one of her daughter’s toys when they were younger. Ever since then she thought of him as a bully, even though he was only eight at the time and wasn’t trying to be malicious.

“No,” She tried lying.

Her mother didn’t say anything in response and just continued to wipe down her dress with a wet rag.

Her mother smoothed out her dress, “Come on. Let’s go.”

They hurried their way to the town square.

“You’re gonna be fine.” Her mother kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

“Love you too, mom.”

They separated and she was pushed forward by the peacekeepers before she could even look back. They pricked her finger and checked her into the drawing system. Her throat burned and there was suddenly a deeper hole of anxiety in her chest. Reality was setting in. Her eyes darted across the space searching for Finnick. Panicking when she couldn’t find him.

“Hey,” He said on the other side of the barrier.

Her shoulders untensed ever so slightly. She smiled at him.

The chatter of the crowd stopped as the stage microphone rang out ear piercing frequencies.

“Ahem,” the announcer decorated in a ridiculous, loud purple dress spoke, “Welcome to the 65th annual Hunger Games!”

As if waiting for an applause the woman paused, “Alright then. We won’t waste anymore time here.”

She dipped her hand into the bowl swirling the strips of paper. “And the female tribute for the 65th annual Hunger Games iss…”

The girl held her breath. Feeling like she was going to faint or die right then and there.

“Julianne Halmbern!” the crowd gasped.

The pit in the girl's stomach disappeared for a split second. Not her this year. Then it set in. A girl who lived on the poorer side of the district. She hardly knew her but she still felt sickenly guilty for being relieved. Another person she knew would be sent to almost certain death. She watched as the crowd parted, making a path for the poor blonde girl, Julianne. She was stiff in fear and disbelief as she was guided up on stage.

“And the male tribute iss…”

“Finnick Odair!” The announcer exclaimed as if she had just announced the lottery.

Y/N’s stomach dropped. No. No. The crowd parted and revealed sweet Finnick. She watched his every move. She watched as he stood there in utter shock, then as he took small steps up to the stage.

“Finnick!” she cried out.

The peacekeepers were getting impatient as they ushered him to the front. “It’s okay!” he yelled out to her.

She wanted to run to him. The older girl next to her noticed her expression and held her arm protectively preventing her from charging the boy. “Finnick!”

He stepped onto the stage, hiding tears in his eyes as she yelped out for him. He thought the sound of her screams was more disturbing than getting chosen like this. Even in this moment he felt the need to console her. Before the woman in the obnoxious dress could say anything else he yelled, “Y/N! I promise! Okay? I promise!”

She nodded through her sobs. She knew he was promising to make it back to her. He vowed not to leave her alone. She tried her best to believe him. To trust him. Her thoughts raced. He was a career. He trained for this. He’s going to be okay. No. He’s fourteen. He can’t. I can’t- No. She cried harder.

And they took him away.

[tryingtodotheright-thing]

Hello Sunset - 2

AN: None of this is proof read so please excuse any errors and do point them out to me. Also, if there's ever any warnings you think I should be adding, please send me an ask. I would love yo hear everyone's thoughts :)

PAIRING: Seungcheol x fem!reader

GENRE: exes to lovers, idol verse, angst

WORD COUNT: 2,574

WARNINGS: reader has anxiety and depression, swearing

PREVIOUS / NEXT

Y/N couldn’t remember the car journey but she was now sitting on Sian’s expensive sofa. Rachel had left after making sure Y/N made it to the office safely, promising to meet her at Y/N’s flat in the evening after finishing some errands. 

Y/N clutched the cup of tea that was piping hot and kept her focus on the heat seeping through to her fingertips. In true British style, Sian had made her a cuppa as soon as she’d walked through, reassuring her that tea would make her feel better. The steam continued to rise up and fogged up the sunglasses she still had on. Pushing the Ray Bans off her face, she slid them up to rest on top of her head. The movement seemed to startle Sian into action as she’d been hovering behind Y/N till then, which was so unlike her and spoke volumes of how worried she was about the situation. Sian moved to sit beside her on the forest green velvet sofa, turning her body so she sat facing Y/N. She took a second to observe Y/N as she continued to stare into her cup of tea as if it held all the answers to her problems. Sighing, Sian took the mug from Y/N’s hand and placed it on the coster sat on top of the nearby coffee stool. 

“Y/N, honey, I need you to be strong for me. I need you to fight this time, okay?”

Sian knew to wait for a response and without it, her artist would weasel her way out of the limelight and hide in some semblance of her previous life, as she had been doing for the past five months. Y/N was too fragile last time and Sian had let her wallow long enough. It was time for her to gear up. Sian hadn’t been doing her job as a manager in the entertainment world for the past 15 years and doing it well, only to let her artist be affected by the backlash from angry, disappointed fangirls of a cowardly man. 

If it wasn’t for the broken woman Sian had to prioritise and piece together back in March 2025, Sian would have done something sooner. In fact, a word to Sian’s contacts, most of whom were family members in key places, would have put a stopper to the ridiculous attacks. No KPOP artist, even if they were part of a global and growing company, could enter the Western market without the backing of one of the many subsidiaries Sian’s family owned in the music industry. They dominated the music industry in the background and whilst Sian made sure to not abuse this power for her own benefit, she couldn’t sit back and watch as the woman she’d grown to adore as a younger sister continued to suffer. Y/N was ill equipped to deal with it all since she was still new to the celebrity world. 

8 September 2023

Y/N went viral. It was unexpected and so sudden. 

She was a month into her new job as HR Business Partner at a global consulting firm, focused on serving technological and data insights to its clientele. It was a big move for Y/N and she’d just started to feel comfortable in the new environment. Her new manager had done much to welcome her and ease her in, but everything was new and things moved at such a fast pace, she gave up trying to keep up and was hoping things would start to make sense soon. 

It was a Friday and the weather was still warm, the after effects of the heatwave still lingering. Y/N was ready to wrap up for the day and spend the weekend in bed. She’d finished all the calls she’d had planned for the day and in her check in with her manager, he’d given her great feedback so Y/N couldn’t be happier it was a Friday. She’d packed her laptop in her backpack and was heading out of the office located in the business park. She was still admiring the waterfalls and greenery that surrounded the buildings even though she’d been making the commute for a month now. Earbuds in and her playlist turned on, she hummed along to the music as she walked towards the Tube station and debated whether to head to the gym tonight or have a lazy evening. The vibration of her phone interrupted her pondering and saw that she was getting a phone call from Sian Doyle. 

Y/N had met Sian a few months ago, when she had approached her after seeing Y/N’s old Youtube videos during her teen years. Sian sent her a message on Instagram asking if Y/N still pursued a career in music and was interested in meeting with her to discuss an opportunity. Y/N had thought it was a hoax, and had ignored the message. She hadn’t seriously thought about a career in music, knowing that her parents would have never allowed her to do that when she was growing up. Now in her mid 20s, she knew she’d missed the chance though the odd daydreams and what ifs had crossed her mind. Y/N had grown apart from music when she had started working six years ago, not having the energy nor time to dedicate to her passion. However, sitting at home and not being able to leave the house, with just herself for company during the pandemic gave her plenty of time to re-embrace it and she fell in love with music again. Although she hadn’t replied to Sian’s message after reading it, she kept going back to it all weekend before gathering her courage and agreeing to a meeting. 

Three months later, Y/N was an artist signed to a label and had released a single that had charted in the top 100 of the UK music charts. It wasn’t too bad (read as great) for a brand new artist that the music world had no expectations for and who didn’t fit the look nor style of the typical musicians the industry usually produced. She was even going to be singing an OST for a Korean TV drama that will be released in December. Y/N was surprised when she heard that news. She didn’t expect her music to be popular, let alone be heard and liked by people in another part of the world. Thinking that’s what Sian was contacting her about, Y/N accepted the call and entered the working pod that was outdoors in the business park to take the call in private. 

“Hey Sian, how are you doing? Did I have any plans I’ve forgotten?” Y/N was balancing her commitments in the corporate world and music world, not quite confident to give up her safety net when her success wasn’t guaranteed. 

“I’m splendid, darling and do you know why? It’s because I’m the manager of the young woman who is going viral featuring on all the reels on Tik Tok right now.” Y/N could feel the excitement in Sian’s voice and was slightly envious of the person who’d made Sian this proud and animated. The woman was always composed and today, she’d not spoken in her “I'm-all-business-and-I'm-the-boss” voice.

“Oh how exciting for you! Which artist is that, I know you have a few?”

Letting out a chuckle, Sian responded, “Y/N, honey, I’m talking about you!”

Y/N’s response came out as something between a squeal and a shout in that instant, the thrill and happiness she’d felt in that moment was unforgettable.

Current

“Tell me what the plan is. I know you have one.”

Sian wanted to clap her hands in glee but held herself back. She got up from the sofa to pick up the iPad that sat on her desk and returned to the velvet sofa. Sinking down right next to Y/N this time, she handed the iPad over to the singer. With hands that were still trembling though much less than when she was holding the tea cup, Y/N took the tablet into her hands and tapped on the screen. The screen blinked at her, opening on Naver, a blurry picture of a man and woman walking in close proximity out of a restaurant. It was obvious the woman wasn’t a Korean celebrity due to the darker skin tone and the build of the woman. The zoomed in version of the same picture on the article focused on the faces of the pair. Y/N obviously recognised the people in the picture, being the woman in the picture. The zoomed version helped narrow down when the picture was taken. Both of them were wearing black masks and Y/N/s hands were tucking her hair behind her ears, there was an indent on her left ring finger and she could just make out a pink line of a cut on her palm. 

The picture was taken on their last date. It was a Thursday evening and they were in Daegu because he was on leave and was allowed to leave the base so he wanted to visit his parents. They’d been bickering all night and in the end, hadn’t finished their meal and had decided to just leave. Y/N was due to fly back to London the next day and he was due to return to his base at the end of the weekend. It had been roughly two weeks after her birthday and Y/N had been looking forward to the late celebration but the entire visit was a mess. He broke up with her two days later in response to her text ‘Just landed, will call later. Love you x’. The picture was taken two months ago, just before the world as she knew it collapsed. 

“Whoever sent this photo through obviously has more and it’s most likely the same person who sent Dispatch the picture at the beginning of the year. HYBE and Pledis can’t keep denying the relationship, saying you were acquaintances or just friends and they definitely can’t spin the whole narrative of you being an overzealous fan anymore. Right now, they’re looking like the biggest liars and the public opinion is on your side.”

“What’s your plan?” Y/N repeated, knowing that Sian hasn’t finished. 

“We need to put out a statement to be released in Korean media. I’ve already drafted it; I just need you to read it and let me know if there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with. We’re also not going to keep quiet anymore. You need to come out of hiding and you need to take back control.”

Not pausing for acknowledgement, Sian continued, “I’ve booked you to be on Jimmy Fallon’s, taping Thursday night and airing Friday so we’ll be flying to New York tomorrow. You’ll use the opportunity to promote the upcoming tour and it matches with The Voice US guest appearance episodes releasing this week. Jimmy will bring up the news, I’ve asked him to. I want you to make a joke and brush past it as if the whole matter is insignificant and an inconvenience. Channel that anger that’s underneath that hurt and don’t forget that you’re the victim in this situation. I need you to emphasise that.”

With that said, Sian leaned over and opened the Mail app on the iPad, selecting the first email which contained the drafted statement.

‘This is W Music Group. We have confirmed with our artist regarding the recent allegations and can confirm that Y/N and S.Coups of SEVENTEEN did briefly date but have since parted ways. Our artist was keen to keep her personal life private and we ask people to avoid speculation. No statements released by HYBE or Pledis about Y/N have been made in conjunction with W Music Group or with Y/N’s consent.  We are currently taking legal action against those who posted malicious posts including defamation, insults, sexual harassment, spread of false information, and malicious slander against Y/N. We are preparing to submit multiple complaints to investigative agencies by collecting evidence of acts that violate Y/N’s rights and interests such as insults and defamation through self-monitoring and reports from fans, and we plan to respond with a no-tolerance policy. We will continue to hold the suspects accountable and take strong action without any settlement or leniency. Y/N’s planning to greet the public soon with a new album to be released on 2 October 2025.’

Y/N read the statement and read it again. She knew this was the best thing to do for herself and it wasn’t fair to Sian and everyone around her, everyone who depended on and cheered for her success, if she didn’t release the statement. Despite knowing this was the best choice, Y/N still hesitated.

“Do we have to mention the statements from HYBE?”

“Yes.” Sian’s reply was immediate and clipped. “I hope you’re not still worrying about him.”

Sian’s tone grew more sharp. “You can’t be! Wake up and smell the coffee for what it is, Y/N. If he had cared even the smallest ounce for you, he wouldn’t have agreed to his company releasing a statement that you had approached him as a fan when the first picture was released in January. Do you not remember how his fans called you a stalker and sent you hate messages all over social media? Do you not remember the times they sent you broken glass and blades packaged up as gifts so you’d hurt yourself?” 

Sian grew more frustrated and tossed the iPad on the space next to her on the sofa.

“I don’t know how to talk sense into you. Honestly, Y/N, I’m doing this for your benefit.”

“I know, I know that. Please don’t think that I don’t appreciate everything you do and have done for me.” Y/N’s words kept getting stuck and she was struggling to articulate herself.

“I just don’t want other people to be hurt by this. Josh and the others haven’t done anything wrong.”

After a pause, she consented, “I’ll take your guidance as final, Sian. Let’s release the statement.”

Y/N grasped Sian’s hands in hers for reassurance. “I promise I’ll do what you ask of me this time.” 

Sian patted Y/N’s hands as she soothed Y/N’s nerves by saying, “It’ll all be fine, darling. Trust that I know what I’m doing. You’ll come out of this stronger. I know you will.”

With a final pat, Sian got up from the sofa and walked to the door of her office, her black heels clacking against the floor. She opened the door and spoke to her assistant, whose desk was placed opposite the doorway. 

“Send it out now.”

That’s all she said before closing the door and turning back to Y/N. 

“Now, about the Tonight Show ..” 

Sian continued with her briefing for Y/N’s schedules. Y/N listened and did her best to pay attention and soak in the advice but the tension in her stomach distracted her, the jitters making her queasy. She moved to pick up her now lukewarm water bottle that she’d bought earlier from her handbag when she noticed that her phone was blinking. She took the phone out first, tapping on the screen to read.

Joshie 🦌

Just saw it. Are you okay?