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xoxomoonlightxoxo · 8 months

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Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 3: The Lucky Day

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of an eating disorder and depression, please read with caution as topics may be triggering.

a/n: Alexa, play Daddy's Home <3 Anywho, OC's spiralling summer was inspired by Bella's montage of passing seasons in Twilight ... I'm sorry, but I need to preface that OC will be going through it this whole season, I have already cried thrice. Also, a side question, can you guys actually play the songs I post for these chapters? Meaning, does Tumblr let yall do that or am I trippin? Because I truly think they add a lot to the overall experience. If not, please let me know, then maybe I'll just turn them into a Spotify playlist.

Sleep has become my escape. A temporary withdrawal from reality in which I live to remember everything Jungkook has forgotten. Sleeping through each passing day, I know that at least in my dreams we are still together. In my dreams, I will always find my way back to you, Koo. Even if you don’t remember it, the moon knows that we were once in love. It hears my helpless cries at night and feels every atom of my being that misses you, fearing the idea of us becoming strangers once again.

It’s as if my happiness was erased with his departure. Holding my hand through each step of the way, he showed me the beauty in life and ended up being the one to take it all away when my fearing heart failed to reciprocate the painfully obvious love tethered between us. Now, my life is dull and pointless. How can I love someone else when every night I dream of you, Koo?

Swallowing pills to mute the sound of my heart beating for his barest touch, I’ve become lost in my own mind, haunted by everlasting thoughts. Although I thought I would be able to at least pretend to be happy for the sake of my family, it’s all become too much. Thus, it was only a matter of days, before my deteriorating behaviour sparked concern in my parents, fueling tension in the air we shared. It all started with fatigue, which then transformed into chronic sleep and in the end began to affect my eating habits. Feeling nauseous from the mere thought of food, I’ve grown to dissociate myself from it. I was hungry, but I couldn’t eat. And, as my hope slowly diminished, so did the number on the scale.

“Mira, you have to eat,” my mom’s voice echoes in my ear as my eyes fixate on the plate of steamed broccoli in front of me.

“I’m not hungry, I told you,” I sigh, swallowing down the lie with some water.

“Mira, honey, please talk to us. What’s wrong?” my dad asks softly, placing his hand on top of mine. Hearing the trembles in his words, my eyes swell with tears before I shake myself out of it.

“I’m fine … just feeling a bit under the weather,”

“The sun has been at its highest peak this whole time, what’s seasonal about this?” my mom tries to remain composed as she shifts her chair closer to mine.

“Talk to me, honey. What’s gotten into you? You were so excited to come back,” her hands caress my tangled hair as I nibble on the dead skin on my lip.

“Mira, you’ve been silent since you came, and now you won’t even eat. Your mom and I can’t bear to see you like this,”

“Come back home, Miraya. We can find another university here,”

“No. It’s not that. I’m fine, I swear. I just … I just need this break to end already, so I can focus on my studies again. That’ll keep my mind occupied,” I whisper softly, attempting to fake a smile as my empty gaze searches their scattering eyes. Recently, that's how most of our conversations ended. With helpless promises feeding my delusions. However, with each passing day, I come to realise that promises are nothing more than sweet lies. If it weren’t true, I wouldn’t have to find excuses for the aching feeling in my heart, but rather, melt in the overflowing passion of Jungkook’s burning love.

Excusing myself, I throw away the cold plate of food and head back to my room, one which was once filled with laughter and a carefree sense of ambition. The same walls that watched me cry out of happiness upon receiving my acceptance letter just a few months ago are the ones that now echo my pathetic cries for help. Every inch of this room has become cold and numb, and I’m afraid that there is no more warmth in me that could fix this.

Crouched in a fetal position as my body shivers under the floral duvet my mom gifted me as a welcome present, I dial Jimin’s phone number. It has been weeks since he moved back to Busan, but I have yet to receive any updates from him about Jungkook. In hindsight, maybe, it’s for the best, but if silence is the thing that'll save me then why do I still hold onto the smallest glimpse of hope for us? Even if it means walking across a minefield of rejected possibilities that would ultimately send me into a never-ending spiral, why do I still care?

“How is he?” I ask with hesitation.

“Different. He’s different.” Jimin replies softly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he seems distant. Which is fair, I guess. But, he doesn’t quite seem to remember me,”

“At all?” my voice shakes as I choke up.

“Well no, he is still able to recover our memories from when we were kids, but recent events are very blurry,” Jimin goes on.

I, was recent to Jungkook. We, were recent to him. Four months, that's how long I've known Koo, but I’ve been missing him for the last seven. Each day I daydream, reminiscing our memories, feeling the void in my heart knowing that I’ve been without him longer than I’ve been with him. Maybe, Mrs. Jeon was right. I would be lying if I said that a little part of me didn’t think that the reason for her ultimatum was purely based on a simple dislike of me. You know? Like, she didn’t see me as a good match for her son? Because, even then, her disapproval of my character would have been an easier pill to swallow than knowing that now, in Koo’s empty eyes, I’m no longer his Peaches, but a stranger. God, it hurts to even say it out loud let alone accept it. I can’t accept it, but I have to now, don’t I?

“Please take care of him for me Jiminah,” I manage to let out, wiping the tears rolling down my face.

“I will Mira, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“See you,” I end the call, throwing my phone across the bed, my puffy eyes irritated by the brightness.

That night was especially hard. Although my body was desperately wanting to succumb to the exhaustion, my mind wouldn't shut up. It kept replaying our memories, reminding me of the things I should have said. The words Koo never heard, but deserved to.

Hugging my mom, her trembling hands tighten their hold on my sweater as I take in the smell of her perfume for the last time. I missed her a lot, and the guilt of putting my parents through that torture has been eating me alive this whole summer. All they wanted was to see their daughter smile and I failed to fulfill even the simplest of their wishes. If only they knew how much I wanted to smile again.

“Mira, I’m telling you again, we can find another university here,” my mom says with teary eyes.

“Just say yes, and we’ll deal with all the transfer stuff, honey,” my dad joins, caressing my palms, as I let out a soft chuckle before shaking my head no.

“That’s not fair. You guys didn’t raise a quitter,” I manage to let out, feeling my throat tighten from the build-up of emotions.

“You’re right, we didn’t. But, even the strongest soldier needs a shoulder to cry on. Remember that we are and always will be by your side, Miraya,”

“Call us as soon as you land, love,”

Passing through the airport security, I wave to my family my last goodbyes before heading to my gate. Am I excited to come back to Seoul? I don’t really have a choice, do I? That God-awful Nursing degree won’t finish itself, so yeah, I kind of have to go back. But, I know that school isn’t the only thing pulling me back. I know I can’t, but I still wish to see Jungkook, even from afar, it doesn’t matter. All I want now is to know that he is doing well.

I’m not sure how, but as soon as my head rested against the seat my body shut down, falling into a much-needed sleep. I probably would have slept through the whole 12-hour flight if it weren’t for the bright beams of sunlight penetrating through my heavy eyelids. Taking a glimpse out the airplane window, I no longer saw snowy mountains but rather blossoming fields of greenery scattered within the busy cities of Korea. And, as the captain went through his ending speech, a flood of international students lined up near the exit, eager to get back into their previously established routine. It’s funny because I was sitting next to one of my cohort members from last semester, but we were both too tired to even realise.

Nonetheless, putting my passport and ticket back into my carry on, I rolled my luggage down the escalator before a familiar voice called out my name. Searching the crowd of strangers filled with overwhelmed emotions, my eyes stop at a particular boxy smile.

“Long time no see, Flip-flops!” Tae shouted across the hall, before waving me down to where he was standing with Jiah and Jimin who were just as excited about my arrival. Feeling my eyes swell with tears, I couldn’t help but laugh at his cute, little dance as he pulled me into a warm hug.

“Tae, I’m certain you just don’t know my actual name,” I say with a grin, looking up at his sparkling eyes.

“Of course, I do MJ,” he grins, rubbing the top of my head. Ha ha ha, isn’t he just a comedian? For context, my government name is Mira Jean … hence, the birth of MJ.

“That’s enough, let us hug her too,” Jiah chuckles, opening her arms as my body virtually melts into her embrace. With tears rolling down our faces, her grip tightens around my form as she lets out a sudden gasp.

“Mira! My goodness, why are you so small?” she asks with a concerned tone, her wide eyes scanning my body. Although, I always managed to maintain my normal weight, I guess, not eating properly for 3 months left its mark on the way I looked. As the numbers on the scale decreased, I became more and more fixated on the protrusion of my bones. I hated the feeling, but, I also couldn’t stop. Because I couldn’t get myself to eat, I relied on baggy clothes to create an illusion that would satisfy people’s perception of me. Unfortunately, I failed to fool Jiah as she saw right through the act.

“I just stopped eating so much junk food, I’m fine. Trust me, this is a good thing Jiah, now I can finally fit into my favourite pair of jeans,” I try to laugh the pain away, caressing her hands as her furrowed eyebrows slowly release their tension. She isn’t convinced but also, doesn’t want to create a scene in public. I know that follow-up questions will be brought up along the way, but for now, my attention is focused on looking for someone who I know isn’t there. It’s silly, but before spotting Tae, a little part of me hoped to see Jungkook. To witness his sparkling doe eyes and bunny teeth, once again, like the good old times.

“Okay, it’s settled, we are all going to my favourite Korean BBQ place,” Jimin exclaims, giving me a quick wink before grabbing both of the luggage out of my hands, and handing one to Tae. And, as Jiah intertwines her hands with mine, we exchange soft smiles exiting the airport as my skin finally feels the fresh, humid air of Seoul. Stopping mid-walk, I let out a deep sigh of relief. I hated every second of my summer, it was nothing short of pure torture but, at least, it too passed.

“You’re good?” Tae whispers, softened gaze focused on my flushed cheeks.

“Yeah,” I say softly, taking another deep breath as his arm caresses my shoulder.

“He’s fine, Mira,” his words pierce through my ears as I unconsciously shoot him an alarming look.

“You’ve heard from him?” I rush my words, anticipating his answer as my chest heaves up.

“No, but I can feel your pain,” his tone is quieter now, eyes still searching mine.

“I’m fine, Tae,” I mumble under my breath, lowering my head in fear of breaking down in front of them.

“Just know that I’m always here for you, okay?” he says, pressing a soft kiss on my head before wrapping his arm around my shoulders. If only he could hear the way I’m screaming inside. The way I’m calling out for help. For someone to find hope in my hopeless state of mind. If only he knew how much I miss Jungkook.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Following the tradition, I will be hosting my annual house party before school beats all of our asses,” Jimin chuckles, caressing Jiah’s hand as their eyes focus on each other. Forcing down some dumpling soup into my system, I feel nauseous, but can’t risk growing Jiah's suspicion more, so I attempt to eat as little as possible without her noticing.

“So, Mira, please come. Jungkook will be there as well,” Jimin continues with a soft smile which slowly fades upon noticing my gaze drop. Letting go of my spoon, my fingernails dig into my cold palms, as I’m back at square one. How am I supposed to face him when I can’t even handle the mere mention of his name? It’s not fair. None of them know about Mrs. Jeon’s ultimatum, and I fear that I can’t just simply tell them. So, I gulp down the pain and manage to put on another act, one that I seem to have mastered over the summer.

“Mira, you’re okay?” Jiah asks, gently rubbing my forearm.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit jet-lagged. Sure, of course, I’ll come,” I reply with a reassuring smile, before looking at Tae. I recognize the sadness in his eyes because I see it in my own every passing minute. But, I can’t let him in. I can’t betray Mrs. Jeon’s trust, again. Even if it means that I have to betray my own heart.

We’ve been walking around the mall for probably 3 hours now and Jiah has yet to find something with that wow factor, meanwhile, I have already found 4 of the nearest exits. The party is set for tonight, and although I have already agreed to come, I can’t get myself to actually face the consequences. I can’t go, what was I thinking. What? Did I think everything was going to be fine once Jungkook saw me? Mira, he doesn’t remember you.

“Jiah, you know, I really don’t think I should go tonight?” I say, slowly walking in circles as she eyes another mini dress.

“What? Why?” she stutters, going through racks of possible options.

“I’m just not feeling well,” I lie, fiddling with my fingers to calm down the nerves.

“Mira, is something wrong?” Jiah stops what she’s doing before walking closer to my anxious self.

“I’m fine, really,” I lie again.

“You don’t look fine. You barely eat, barely sleep, barely talk to me,” she exclaims with a tone firmer than before.

“Then stop looking. Please, can everyone just leave me alone? I’m just tired, okay?” I burst, feeling everyone’s eyes on my distressed self.

“Okay, I’m sorry. What do you need?” she says gently, reaching out her hands.

“I just need space,” I whisper, crossing my arms in front of my burning chest.

“Fine, I’ll give you some space. Please call me when you’re ready,” Jiah’s words cut deep as she walked out of the store, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The ones I’ve been trying to run away from this whole time. I can’t even get mad at her. She is only trying to help, but how can she when I keep shutting everyone out? It’s all my fault, I know. I just hope that this isn’t how it ends. I hope I don’t push everyone away, and someone sees right through the mask I put on. Because I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do or who to talk to.

Locking the door behind me I plop onto my bed before finally resting my heavy eyes. And, within minutes, I’m passed out again. I think, I've grown to become eternally tired, no matter how much I sleep, there is just no end to this fatigue. Moving restlessly, I pull the white cover over my shivering body before hearing my phone ring.

“Ugh, what is it now?” I grunt, squinting from the screen brightness as a small gasp escapes my parted lips. It was 8 pm already. How is that possible? I swear, I just laid my head. But, no, apparently I’ve been asleep for the last 5 hours.

“Hello?” I manage to let out.

“Flip-flops? Where are you?” Tae screams through the loud music in the background.

“Tae, I’m home. What happened?”

“Mira hurry, Jiah is drunk. You need to come pick her up,” he exclaims with panic in his voice.

“What? Where’s Jimin? Can he not drive her?” I stutter, lifting myself off of the bed before putting my hoodie back on.

“You want him to drive under the influence? Of course, he is drunk too,”

“Well, why can’t you drive them?” I whine, almost pleading.

“Who said I wasn’t drunk either?” he chuckles, sending me a flying kiss through the phone.

“Fine, I’ll be there in a bit. Keep an eye on Jiah,” I sigh before grabbing my keys and ID.

Thankfully, Jimin’s place wasn’t that far from our dormitory so, the ride there was only 10-ish minutes. Nonetheless, I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. And, as the driver finally pulled up to the apartment complex I practically ran inside. Following the sound of loud music, I made my way through the crowd of people who clearly had a little too much fun, as the alcohol in their system could be detected from the next block.

“Flip-flops!” Tae exclaimed with a big grin. Stopping in my tracks, my eyes diverted to Jiah, who was standing beside him with absolutely no sign of a hangover. In fact, she looked better than ever in her new mini-dress.

“What? You lied?” I snap, eyebrows furrowing more and more with each step I take towards them.

“How else was I supposed to get you to come?” Tae chuckles, trying to rub my head before I push his hand away.

“Get off me,” my tone is harsh as I lower my piercing gaze, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Oh! Mira, there you are,” I could hear Jimin’s voice getting closer before turning my flushed face. And with that, it felt like time stopped altogether. There was nothing and no one in the room except for him and I. Koo and I. Feeling my gaze soften, I choke up from the rush of emotions in my throat.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook. It’s nice to meet you,” he says with a warm smile, reaching out his hand as if meeting me for the first time. Before replying, I take a moment to analyze his face. The one I dreamed about every night and the one that caused me so much pain. He looks the same, except, his eyes no longer sparkle like they used to. I guess, we got that in common.

“Hi …I’m Mira,” I let out a soft smile, before reaching out my own hand.

“Yah, Kook, you already know her, you guys were best friends,” Jimin chuckles, patting Jungkook’s back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, please forgive me. I'm still trying to piece everything back together,” Koo says, covering his mouth before shutting his eyes from embarrassment.

Feeling my throat tighten, I quickly excuse myself, before rushing out of the packed room towards the nearest fire escape. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but why does it feel like I’m going to pass out? It’s as if all the air was knocked out of my lungs. Feeling lightheaded I hold onto the railing and close my eyes for a moment. I can’t believe it. Koo, I saw you but you didn’t see me. You saw a stranger. And, suddenly, there I was, alone again, realizing that everything I feared had come true.

Regaining my composure, I decide to walk back to the party before my eyes are met with his.

“Not a party animal, huh?” Jungkook grins, stopping in his tracks as his arm leans against the wall.

“It’s my day off,” I let out a small chuckle, unable to keep his eye contact.

“So … we were best friends?” he asks softly, hands fidgeting with the chains on his belt.

“Yeah …” I nod slightly, nibbling on my lips.

“It’s funny because I don’t remember anything from last year. I could barely recognize my own dad for a while. Jimin helped me a lot, he basically recalled sparknotes of my past for me,” he laughs. Oh, how I missed his laugh.

“You really don’t remember anything?” I finally look up, searching his scattering eyes.

“No, not one bit,” his muffled words are interrupted by the growling sound coming from my stomach, as I let out an awkward smile.

“Oh, are you hungry?” he grins, bunny teeth on full display, as my gaze softens again.

“No, no, no, I’m fine. I think I’m gonna head home now,” I shake my hands, zipping my hoodie before attempting to walk past him.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll drive. I’m starving as well,” Jungkook assures, gently pulling onto the fabric as my heart sinks to my feet.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I agreed. I couldn’t say no to Koo. Not, after all the sleepless nights I’ve spent missing his mere presence. And, as we entered the nearest restaurant, everything felt real. He felt real. Even if he couldn’t feel it, my heart was beating for the both of us. For our first hellos, last goodbyes and everything in between. Just for tonight, I wanted to pretend like nothing happened.

“Oh, look, Mira, they have a special deal on shrimp dumplings, do you like them?” his voice, brings me back to reality as I mute the thoughts running through my head.

“Yeah, my mom made them for me all the time when I was little,” I smile.

“Then, I guess it’s your lucky day,” he chuckles with a satisfied grin, before calling one of the waiters.

“I guess, it is,” I say softly, feeling my throat tighten as I struggle to swallow the lie. Searching his naive eyes my own swell with tears while my body shifts restlessly in the seat. Desperately wanting to cave into the emotions, my mind is haunted by the thoughts of Mrs. Jeon’s letter. And, as I close my eyes for a moment, all I can see are the painful reminders of our enforced distance. Don’t call … Don’t write … Don’t interact. Yet, here we are, here you are, Koo. Live in the flesh, separated by a table and the forgotten story of our past. So close, yet so far that it physically hurts. To him, I’m just another piece of the puzzle that would fill the void in his memories. But, to me, he is the only piece that could make me whole again.

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mortiskiller · 1 year

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First Time, but Not The Last Time

A short story about the first time a feedist couple tries funnel feeding. Proofread and approved by @ihatemakingusernames.

I could feel the energy in the room—it was a mix of nervous lust and heart-pounding fear. My heart was racing, tight in my chest; I could only imagine yours was as well. My legs bounced slightly, and my ass wiggled back and forth as I heard you whistling in the kitchen. You told me to sit down and wait until you came back. In those minutes, I heard bags opening, jugs cracking open, and liquid pouring, and it all made me so aroused. Tonight, we took the next step in our relationship. Tonight, you said we are going past the point of no return; after this, we would be closer than ever. Tonight, you were going to funnel-feed me.

As I sat there, my body exposed and vulnerable, I couldn't help but admire how massive I had become. Naked on the couch, with my enormous stomach protruding out in front of me, I could barely fit on it anymore. My belly was so large it hung between my legs like a giant boulder, weighing down on me with its sheer size. Every inch of me was soft and jiggly from all the excess fat that had accumulated over the years. My stretch marks spanned across my flesh like a roadmap, a testament to the journey that brought me to this point. Behind me, my ass overflowed the cushions, bouncing up and down as I jiggled. Whenever I moved, it felt like a small earthquake had just struck, all my excess fat quivering with the movement. I looked down at my body and felt in awe of how it had changed over the years. It was almost a miracle, how my ass and chest had become so enormous, and I couldn't help but be filled with love for the person that transformed me into this.

As I waited for you to come back, the nerves and energy were building up inside me. It felt like a caged animal kicking and screaming to be set free. Finally, I heard you coming back from the kitchen and craned my neck to see. Voluptuous as ever, you padded across the hardwood, a gallon pitcher of light brown shake in one hand and a funnel mask dangling from the other. I knew you enjoyed this part—the way you threw your hips out more than usual, your eyes smoldering with deep lust as you saw all 500 pounds of me relaxed on the couch. We had no need for words; our relationship was well past that. You placed the pitcher down on the coffee table and proceeded to strap the mask to my face.

The funnel mask went around my head like a soft blanket, wrapping itself around each of my cheeks and encircling the back of my neck. The rubber mouthpiece was cool against my lips as it was carefully secured in its place. I could feel the straps pulling tight against my face, but not uncomfortably so. With each movement I made, the mask would follow, like an extra layer of skin protecting me from anything that may come. Despite the anticipation and trepidation that had built up inside me, I felt surprisingly calm and safe with this extra layer around me now. It felt like a protective cocoon that nothing could penetrate, no matter how hard I tried. In the darkness behind the funnel's frame, I saw your eyes staring at me, and I knew that you were as committed to this process as I was. Your hand traced a line down my cheeks, growing chest, bulging heavy belly, and ended with a firm grip on my thigh. We decided since I could not speak with the mask on, our safe word would be gripping your thigh.I felt your hand relax on my thigh, and I followed your hand as it grabbed the pitcher. Every second of movement was in slow motion; it was happening—I was going to be funnel-fed like a massive lardass.

Your arm strained slightly holding the pitcher as it reached the rim of the funnel. You waited. My eyes were locked on the lip as it hovered just a millimeter away from dumping thousands of calories down my throat. A smile crossed your face, gentle and glowing, savoring this moment—another milestone in our relationship as feedists, piggies first taste of how you plan to grow them past 600, past 700. With one quick motion, you tipped the pitcher, and I watched as the thick creamy shake cascaded down the funnel.

The first few gulps were a struggle until I matched your pace and opened my throat. I barely needed to swallow as the pressure of the liquid poured down my throat. Rich chocolate coated my mouth as the thick and heavy shake streamed down my stomach. My stomach roared at me, stretching and screaming to push any food back out before it had a chance to settle in. I took quick breaths in between the gulps to make sure I had enough wind to continue. The thick shake was filling me up quickly and stretching my stomach to its limits; I could feel every inch of me expand painfully as every mouthful was stuffed inside of me. I could feel my body give in, the fatigue and heaviness set in as I struggled to gulp down the shake. Every swallow felt like a battle inside my stomach, but fuck that, I needed to consume it all—my pure sexual desire to be as full as possible and grow for you helped me push past any discomfort. I could feel it pooling in my belly, stretching it out, making it even larger.

After all 500 lbs of me had been funneled, for several minutes, I just sat there motionless, all of me growing and stretching with the shake. I heard you walk over and heard the sink turn on, the sound of you washing the pitcher and funnel out. I could feel the cool air rush down my throat. My head was reeling from the thick shake, but I felt the pressure in my stomach decrease as I felt your hand trace down my leg. My head was now spinning; I had never been this full of food before. My skin was tingling from the soft tug of gravity pulling me further and further into myself. My mind was foggy, but I could still feel your hand rubbing my thigh and digging under my gut. I could feel your arms strain to lift my gut as I moaned and burped. Your hands reached the fat-padded mass that was my genitals, and we both sighed as you gently massaged it.

My breathing was heavy and labored, but in that moment, I felt nothing but ecstasy. The combination of fullness, pleasure, and being accepted for who I am transformed me into a new person. My body was still growing and expanding with the food inside me; it felt like the shake was settling and filling every crack in my stomach. Your hands moved back up to my chest, tracing circles around my belly button before curling around the back of my neck and pulling yourself into me. There we stayed motionless for what seemed like hours until finally, your lips touched mine, signaling that it was time to break out of our trance and begin our journey together as feedists.

#fat #feedist audio #male feedee #female feeder #female feedee #male feeder #ffa #fa #weight gain #feederism kink #belly play #fat belly #hi babe #choclate or strawberry base for your funnel feeding?

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iamyoursonly · 10 months

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��Unbreakable Bonds’

chapter three: love takes flight

what a bae tbh

(3)

The city of Tokyo finds itself on the brink of destruction. Gojo and Y/N stand as the last line of defense against the encroaching darkness. But amidst the chaos, the connection between them begins to deepen, offering glimpses of a blossoming romance.

In the quiet moments between battles, Gojo and Y/N steal precious time to share their thoughts and feelings. They find solace in each other's presence, seeking comfort and strength in their conversations. Late nights are spent under the starry sky, where they confide their hopes, dreams, and fears to one another.

In these intimate moments, there are subtle hints of something more. Their laughter lingers a little longer, their gazes hold a touch of tenderness, and their touches become more lingering and meaningful. An unspoken understanding begins to weave its way through their interactions, hinting at the deepening of their connection.

One evening, as they sit side by side on a rooftop overlooking the city's skyline, Y/N's voice breaks the silence. "Gojo, the battle ahead is daunting, and none of us know what tomorrow holds. But I want you to know that I'm grateful to have you by my side. Your unwavering support has given me the strength to keep going."

Gojo turns to Y/N, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and something more. "Y/N, you've always been my rock. Your presence in my life has brought light to the darkest of days. I couldn't imagine facing this battle without you. And...there's something else I want to say."

Their hearts race in tandem as the unspoken words hang in the air. The weight of their emotions becomes almost palpable, urging them to take a leap of faith. But before they can find the courage to voice their true feelings, the chaos of battle interrupts their moment of vulnerability.

They fight with a renewed determination, their connection now charged with an undercurrent of unspoken love. In the midst of the chaos, their movements synchronize effortlessly, as if they share a telepathic bond. Each victory brings them closer, their trust in each other growing stronger with every battle won.

As the final battle looms, Gojo and Y/N find themselves on the precipice of victory and a future where their love can no longer be denied. With the city's fate hanging in the balance, they find a stolen moment amidst the chaos, seeking solace in each other's arms.

In the quiet sanctuary of their embrace, Y/N whispers, "Satoru, I've loved you for longer than I can remember. Our journey together has only deepened my feelings. No matter what happens, I want to face the future by your side."

Gojo's eyes glisten with unshed tears, his heart overflowing with emotion. "Y/N, you've always been the light in my life. Every triumph, every loss, you've been there, guiding me forward. I love you, too, with all my heart. And together, we will face whatever comes next."

As they share a tender kiss, their love intertwines with their shared destiny. Their connection now fortified by the strength of their feelings, they channel their love into their final assault against the encroaching darkness.

After this cruel battle, Tokyo begins to rebuild, and Gojo and Y/N emerge victorious, their love shining as brightly as the city's renewed hope. They stand side by side, their hands entwined, ready to face a future where their bond is unbreakable.

Their journey, marked by friendship, shared dreams, and the revelation of their love, has transformed them into legends.

Together, they will navigate the complexities of life and continue to protect Tokyo, their love serving as a beacon of hope in a world that is forever changed.

story masterlist

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo and you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #drabble #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo

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easiparent · 2 months

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Pump Like a Pro: 12 Game-Changing Tips to Skyrocket Your Milk Supply for Exclusive Pumpers!

Are you an exclusive pumper feeling like you're running on empty? Worried about your milk supply? Don't fret! We've got the ultimate guide to transform you into a milk-making powerhouse. Get ready to supercharge your pumping game with these 12 incredible tips that will have you overflowing with liquid gold in no time!

The Exclusive Pumping Journey

Exclusive pumping is a labor of love, a commitment that deserves a standing ovation. You're not just feeding your baby; you're embarking on a round-the-clock adventure that requires dedication, patience, and a whole lot of battery power! But let's face it – sometimes it feels like you're stuck in a never-ending cycle of pump, feed, repeat, without seeing the results you're hoping for.

Did you know? According to a study published in the Journal of Human Lactation, exclusive pumping moms produce an average of 26 ounces of milk per day. But with the right techniques, many moms report doubling their output! Imagine what that could mean for your baby and your peace of mind.

Whether you're a pumping newbie or a seasoned pro looking to boost your supply, these 12 tips are about to become your new best friends. So grab your favorite pumping bra, settle in, and let's dive into the world of milk-making magic!

12 Power-Pumping Tips to Maximize Your Milk Supply

1. Embrace the Power Hour: Pump Like You Mean It!

Key Strategy: Implement power pumping sessions to mimic cluster feeding.

Power pumping is like sending your breasts to bootcamp – it's intense, but oh so effective! Here's how to do it:

Pump for 20 minutes

Rest for 10 minutes

Pump for 10 minutes

Rest for 10 minutes

Pump for 10 minutes

Do this once a day for 3-7 days, and watch your supply soar! One mom reported, "After just five days of power pumping, I went from barely making enough to having a freezer stash!"

2. Frequency is Your Friend: Pump Often, Pump Smart

Key Strategy: Aim for 8-12 pumping sessions per day, especially in the early weeks.

Your breasts work on supply and demand. The more you ask, the more they give! Try to pump every 2-3 hours during the day and at least once at night. It might feel like a lot, but remember – this frequency mimics a newborn's natural feeding pattern.

Pro Tip: Use a hands-free pumping bra to multitask during your sessions. Who says you can't pump and conquer the world at the same time?

3. Double Down: Embrace Double Pumping

Key Strategy: Use a double electric pump to stimulate both breasts simultaneously.

Not only does double pumping save time, but it can also increase your milk output by up to 18%, according to a study in the Journal of Perinatology. Plus, it stimulates the release of prolactin, the milk-making hormone, more effectively than single pumping.

4. Massage for Success: The Magic Touch

Key Strategy: Incorporate breast massage before and during pumping sessions.

Think of breast massage as a wake-up call for your milk ducts. Gently massage your breasts in a circular motion before pumping, and use hand compression during pumping to ensure you're emptying all areas of the breast. This technique, known as "hands-on pumping," can increase your milk output by up to 48%!

5. Stay Hydrated: Drink Up, Mama!

Key Strategy: Aim to drink at least 8-10 glasses of water per day.

Your body needs water to make milk, so keep that water bottle handy! One easy trick: drink a glass of water every time you sit down to pump. Your body (and your milk supply) will thank you.

6. Fuel Your Body: Eat Like a Lactation Queen

Key Strategy: Focus on a balanced diet rich in protein, healthy fats, and complex carbohydrates.

Your body burns about 500 extra calories a day producing milk, so now's not the time to skimp on nutrition. Include galactagogues (milk-boosting foods) in your diet, such as oats, fenugreek, and brewer's yeast. One mom swears by her daily "lactation smoothie" packed with these ingredients!

7. Get Pumped: Choose the Right Equipment

Key Strategy: Invest in a high-quality double electric pump and ensure proper flange fit.

Your pump is your partner in this journey, so choose wisely! A hospital-grade pump can make a world of difference, especially for moms struggling with supply. And don't forget about flange size – a proper fit can increase your output by up to 30%!

8. Relax and Let Down: Create a Pumping Sanctuary

Key Strategy: Establish a relaxing pumping routine to encourage let-down.

Your let-down reflex is key to pumping success. Create a calm environment for pumping – dim the lights, play soft music, or look at photos of your baby. Some moms swear by "pump dates" with their little ones, holding or sitting near their baby while pumping to boost oxytocin levels.

9. Pump Around the Clock: Don't Skip the Night Shift

Key Strategy: Include at least one nighttime pumping session, ideally between 1-5 am.

Night pumping might sound like torture, but it's a game-changer for milk production. Prolactin levels are highest in the early morning hours, making this the perfect time to boost your supply. One mom shared, "Adding a 3 am pumping session increased my daily output by 6 ounces!"

10. Warm It Up: Heat Therapy for the Win

Key Strategy: Apply warm compresses to your breasts before pumping.

Heat can work wonders for milk flow. Try applying warm compresses or taking a warm shower before pumping to encourage let-down and increase milk flow. Some moms even use special warming lactation massagers for an extra boost!

11. Pump and Repeat: The Magic of Cluster Pumping

Key Strategy: Try cluster pumping during your baby's growth spurts.

Cluster pumping mimics a baby's frequent feeding during growth spurts. Here's how:

Pump for 10 minutes

Rest for 10 minutes

Repeat this cycle for an hour

Do this once or twice a day during growth spurt periods to signal your body to produce more milk.

12. Supplement Smartly: Consider Galactagogues

Key Strategy: Explore herbal supplements or medications known to boost milk supply, under guidance from a lactation consultant or healthcare provider.

Herbs like fenugreek, blessed thistle, and moringa have been used for centuries to increase milk supply. Some moms also find success with prescription medications like domperidone (where legally available). Always consult with a professional before starting any supplements or medications.

FAQs: Your Burning Questions Answered

Q: How long does it take to see an increase in milk supply? A: Most moms see an increase within 3-7 days of implementing these strategies consistently. However, remember that every body is different, and it can take up to two weeks to see significant changes.Q: Can I overpump and create an oversupply? A: While it's possible to create an oversupply, it's relatively rare for exclusive pumpers. If you find yourself producing much more than your baby needs, you can gradually reduce pumping frequency or duration.Q: How do I know if I'm pumping enough milk? A: As a general guideline, aim to pump 25-35 ounces per day for a baby over one month old. However, it's best to focus on your baby's growth and diaper output rather than strict numbers.Q: Is it normal for one breast to produce more than the other? A: Absolutely! Most women have one breast that's a "slacker" and one that's an "overachiever." Continue to pump both sides equally to maintain overall supply.Q: How can I increase my pumping output when I return to work? A: Maintain a consistent pumping schedule at work, use a high-quality pump, and try to relax during sessions. Some moms find that looking at photos or videos of their baby helps with let-down.

Making It Work: Strategies for Long-Term Pumping Success

Exclusive pumping is a marathon, not a sprint. Here are some key strategies to help you go the distance:

Create a schedule: Plan your pumping sessions in advance and stick to them as much as possible.

Build a support network: Connect with other exclusive pumpers online or in-person for advice and encouragement.

Invest in multiple pump parts: Having extras on hand makes cleaning and sanitizing less of a chore.

Practice self-care: Remember to take care of yourself – adequate rest, nutrition, and stress management are crucial for milk production.

Be flexible: Some days will be better than others. Be kind to yourself and remember that any amount of breast milk is beneficial for your baby.

Track your progress: Keep a log of your pumping sessions and output to help identify patterns and improvements.

Celebrate milestones: Every ounce pumped is an achievement. Celebrate your dedication and hard work!

Conclusion: Embrace Your Exclusive Pumping Journey

Congratulations, pumping pro! You're now armed with 12 powerful strategies to boost your milk supply and make your exclusive pumping journey a success. Remember, every drop you pump is liquid gold for your baby, and your dedication is truly admirable.

Exclusive pumping may not be the journey you originally envisioned, but it's a path filled with love, commitment, and a whole lot of milk! As you implement these tips, be patient with yourself and your body. Increasing milk supply takes time, but with consistency and the right techniques, you'll be amazed at what you can achieve.

So, strap on that hands-free pumping bra, queue up your favorite show, and get ready to pump like a champion. Your baby (and your freezer stash) will thank you! Here's to full bottles, happy babies, and the incredible power of mother's milk – one pump at a time!

#parenting #baby bump #family

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univvrse · 1 year

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the coven (chapter 18- final)

reader x bakugou x shinsou x kaminari x kirishima

Coven- a formation of at least three or more vampires

He told you they were dangerous- why didn't you believe him?

previous parts can be found on my masterlist

on my ao3 if you'd prefer

1.3k words

It had been a few months since you were turned- you weren’t entirely sure how many- time had fallen into a pleasant haze and you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm with the vampires. You would all hunt random humans in the forest near their house most nights- hang around the house listening to their stories and old music they kept on CDs around the house, have sex all the time, and just lie in bed with them- not talking, just enjoying each other’s company. Katsuki had grown almost completely comfortable around you and the rest of them had been nothing short of perfect nearly 100% of the time. You had quit your job at the coffee shop- you still felt slightly bad for bailing after a single shift, but you hadn't trusted yourself around so many humans after turning. Several people from your hometown had tried to contact them but you had ignored them, that was the part you cared the least about.

At the moment, you lay between them all in Katsuki’s bed- between Hitoshi and Katsuki, your hand gripping tightly to Hitoshi’s as it nearly always was these days. He liked it like that- and you did too, nearly as much as he did. Being like this with all four of them almost overwhelmed you with happiness. You had been plunged into a whirlwind of immortality since the day you had turned, you had hunted with them, killing people didn’t yet fill you with the sinister joy it seemed to overflow them with but every time you killed you felt complete. As if it was now a need for you and in a way it was- the desire to drink blood had consumed you a few days after turning and had become one of the main things you thought about.

Other than hunting you had spent most of your time as an immortal in bed with them- mainly with Katsuki. He seemed to enjoy you and you were always eager to oblige him. He stroked your cheek with one of his hands.

“I ever tell you how pretty you are?” Katsuki spoke, the kind words still sounding weird coming from him. You hummed in response- he had told you, several times, in fact it was one of his biggest topics of conversation. It had become normal to you now that their mouths didn’t move when they said something to you- it felt as if they were just talking.

“No need to crowd her with compliments Kats, she knows she’s gorgeous,” Hitoshi said- sitting up slightly to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“Doesn’t hurt to say it,” Eijiro added. He had been completely silent for the last few minutes as he often was when he was with Denki he usually just stared at him for long periods of time like he was completely brain dead honestly you thought it was kind of creepy at first, but you could tell how much he loved him by the pure adoration in his eyes whenever he looked at the blonde.

“You guys thirsty?” Denki spoke up from his side of the bed. You were, for the first few weeks after you transformed it consumed your entire being but now it was just a subtle burn that snuck up on you every once in a while.

“I am,” you replied, “What time is it?” The only downside of being a vampire- you couldn’t see the sun though you didn’t miss it in the way you thought you would have at first.

Hitoshi picked up a phone, you could never be sure whose from the nightstand next to him with the hand that wasn’t holding yours.

“9PM, should be dark enough by now if we’re all in a mood to eat.”

“I sure am,” Katsuki said, sitting up and stretching his arms as if it did anything. As he stretched you could see the outline of his muscles, you had seen him naked so many times at this point, but he never failed to make air catch in your throat.

Hitoshi climbed out of bed, you were all fully dressed- no point wearing pyjamas if you don’t sleep and don’t really feel enough pain to be uncomfortable. He offered you a hand to pull you out of bed which you gladly excepted; the heavy feeling of your skin being basically stone having not fully worn off.

The rest of them were out of bed before you could even turn around.

You were all out of the house in only a few minutes and were racing towards the forest were you had been hunting the last few times.

You were still getting a handle of your new speed and thus were slightly slower than the rest of them. Hitoshi was fastest, always running ahead with Denki close behind. You weren’t too far behind though, with Eijiro only a few metres ahead of you- he was easily the most muscular of the group which you guessed slowed him down a tad. It didn’t take you too long to get to the forest and soon, you were hunting.

You had gotten a good handle on searching for prey over the last few months, Denki had taught you the ropes and now you were pretty much an expert. You purposefully quietened your feet, taking care to not step on sticks and to be graceful. Vampirism had brought you a new level of gracefulness that you had severely lacked in your human life. The other thing he had taught you was to be slow, which was hard seeing as you had a lack of control of speed though it quickly paid off. A lone walker was quickly spotted by Katsuki- you let him have him; you split up from the others, another thing Denki had advised you to do, you could easily find them using your new ability to read minds anyway.

Even now, as you hunted through the forest for your next victim of the evening you were still overcome with euphoria, although a creeping sensation lay in your throat. Thirst.

“Hey doll face,” Hitoshi called out to you through his thoughts, “Got one here for you if you want it?”

Of course, you did, he knew that. You were there in an instant. Hitoshi was stood over a girl who cowered beneath him- lying on her back in the dried-out grass. Your purple haired boyfriend was practically stamping on her legs, keeping the human still and making the job easier for you. The human was clearly in a state of shock, heaving and spluttering, desperately trying to plead for her life but she was so full of terror she could not find her voice.

You knelt down in front of her, grabbing the girl by her neck as screams poured from her throat like water from a glass. You tilted her face upwards to look her in her eyes; she looked kind of like you. At least how you used to look; she was warm, so exceedingly warm; warm, flushed cheeks, soft lips and ordinary human teeth. You held empathy for her in the same way you did all humans- they would never experience life the way you had. Yet, you felt more than that.

Pity. You felt pity for her. You felt sympathy as you sunk your razor-sharp teeth into her neck. You felt understanding for her as you drained the innocent girl of every last drop of red blood that she had to offer- always careful not to spill any. She writhed in your grasp and tried to shrink away from you, in a desperate attempt to escape yet, she was no match for you.

She stopped eventually screaming as weakness overcame her, she accepted her fate as she shuddered and died in your grasp, slaughtered by the very sort of creature that had saved you from the disease of mortality.

It was of no importance to you however, she was not your first victim and would certainly not be your last as you and your spent the rest of eternity together. You were theirs and they were yours because they were your fire. And you would keep them burning brightly until the day you all left the earth.

#my hero academia #vampire #vampire au #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #no beta we die like men #bakugou #denki kaminari #hitoshi shinsou #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #x reader

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chakazard · 2 years

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I have been a fan of Ezra Furman since Sep 5, 2019, when Bandcamp chose Twelve Nudes as its album of the day. I don't always check the album of the day but thankfully I did that day, and I knew before I listened that I needed it in my life. When I did listen, I was sold. I was done. I was changed. An absolutely perfect album start to finish. Since then I have flipped and fallen for a number of her songs, I devoured her 33 ⅓ book on Lou Reed's Transformer, and, like a lot of people, I came out of the shut down times being much more willing to be open about my own powerfully perplexing feeings about my gender and sexuality, and Ezra's music and her observations on Lou Reed from that book were absolutely a part of my journey. Although the show was delayed a few months, I was elated to have the opportunity to see her perform at the Music Hall of Williamsburg.

There was not a single second of the show where I was not either singing, dancing, crying, beaming, or flipping the bird. I think I started crying at the second word of the first song. I am not usually one for being starstruck, but I could barely believe I was in the same room as this incredible artist. She held the audience in the palm of her hand the entire show, and I am honestly not sure to what extent she realized it. An audience, by the way, that was extremely and beautifully diverse, containing various ages, races, and especially genders, all united by the heartfelt words of the star of this evening. Ezra is the perfect mix of performer and songwriter. I may have seen people who are better at one or the other, though I can't think of any at the moment, but I'm sure I've never seen anyone better at both. Her every motion on stage seemed possessed by the songs, completely driven by the music, except for some of the between song bits, where she seemed too aware and suddenly remembered, embarrassed, that she was in front of an audience. "Songs of love and war" she kept repeating, and unfortunately songs of war are just as necessary if not more than joyous songs of love at the moment, especially from a trans artist in today's culture. She was a magnetic performer, even moreso in the way that she did not seem overflowing with confidence, but she did seem invigorated by the stage and the sound and the spirit of the songs.

And what songs! I feel like Ezra Furman's songs transport me, fully immersed inside of them, as if I am living their truths. She opened with The Train Comes Through, the beautiful song that opens her newest album evoking Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen, and from there exploded into the song that first made me a fan, Evening Prayer. She cracked my heart wide open with Book Of Our Names when she sang "the names will be the real ones that are ours.". I slow danced by myself to I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend and punk danced all the gunk out of my soul to My Teeth Hurt. I reverently sang all the words to Point Me Towards the Real and felt the thrill of Can I sleep In Your Brain rolling seamlessly into Calm Down. I knew there was no better conclusion than What Can You Do But Rock n Roll. When she returned for the encore and went into Lilac and Black, I pledged myself to take up those colors and join the queer girl gang. I put the final nail in my voice's coffin with the line TO THEM WE'LL ALWAYS BE FREAKS in Suck the Blood From My Wound. Before leaving, Ezra stood in the center of the stage and affirmed that the joy and anger had become one thing, and the name for that thing is rock n roll. If there is a religion based on that statement I want to join it. And she left us with Tell 'Em All To Go To Hell. My long neglected, unrecognized queer heart was full as fuck. I was expecting an unbelievable performance and Ezra overdelivered on every mark.

Before the show, I did something I normally don't at concerts and decided to grab a drink. While there I struck up a conversation with a fellow fan who had traveled all the way from Vermont for the show. Talking to strangers generally doesn't come easy to me, but I think I kept my end of the conversation moving and even entertaining. While I was talking to Geoffrey from Vermont about secret societies and life in general, two people came up to me, fellow poets who recognized me from an open mic I'd attended a month earlier. I took this all as a sign that this evening and my life as a whole are moving in a good direction. I left the bar and went upstairs in time to catch Jeffrey Lewis, who I had actually seen and enjoyed about 15 years ago, but I hadnt spent much time revisiting. He was an excellent opener, showing boundless creativity in both songs and the biographical graphic novels of Keith Haring and Sitting Bull projected behind him.

After the show, I was elated. What a perfect performance! I decided to do something else I normally don't, and wait in line to buy merch, because Ezra had more than earned my t-shirt money. When I was a couple spots back from the front of the line, I turned around and saw that she was sitting in the corner of the room, talking to someone. I reached into my rarely reached reservoir of social courage and resolved that if she was still there after I'd made my purchase, I would go up and say hi. "excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but you are fucking amazing!" was all I could think to say. Today, I think all the things I could have said. "Twelve Nudes is a perfect album!" "Temple of Broken Dreams makes me cry every time!" "I wish I had your music in high school!" "You helped me get in touch with my gender and it's made my life so much better." I guess "fucking amazing" is a decent blanket. She told me it was a dream come true getting to perform like that. I stumbled over the phrase "best show ever" and let her return to her conversation. I floated, glowing, all the way home.

Sometimes art hangs on its own and brings meaning to a life when it is sorely needed. Sometimes a life seems indivisible from the art that flows in, out, and around it. I have been riding one of those rare waves of energy and inspiration lately. There has been an influx of creative people in my life and I feel like this just made the show so much better for me. As I said, normally I wouldn't have swapped jokes and stories with a rando from Vermont, and I would have left and hopped the next train back to suburbia rather than sticking around to meet one of my favorite singers. As it is, I had an overall incredible evening that I will remember forever. I am an Aries and this is my season. There is nothing I believe in more than the beautiful two edged sword that is rock n roll and I don't think I've ever gotten closer to experiencing the purest most powerful version of that than getting to witness Ezra Furman sing her heart out in Brooklyn until the sound covered everyone who could hear. Songs of love and war, indeed.

#chaknroll #ezra furman #live music review

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lets-talk-spirituality · 1 year

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Hello, this is going to be a bit of a different ask than what I've seen most on here, but Can I possibly get channelled messages about my career?

Sure! We can see what comes up.

Spirit, what do you want to tell anon about their career?

Immediately I’m anxious and I’m hearing that you are too worried about success and performance and fitting into old paradigms of work and career that you have outgrown. You feel anxious because the universe is dropping you into the unknown on purpose. You need to let go and surrender. Sometimes we are overwhelmed because we are processing through collective fears around scarcity but you are shifting to be in an abundant mindset. People think of abundance only as money but abundance is about your entire life overflowing with joy and peace and love.

You are on the path to switch from the old paradigm of work as worth to worth begets work. You need to focus on getting into the energy of what you imagine having your dream career would make you feel. Shit, dress now how you would want to dress then (collective has been knowing about manifestation techniques without calling it manifestation). If you imagine you’d feel powerful, find ways to feel powerful now. Find ways to not live in so much fear around money, it’s merely timing. You just need to wait and focus inward to magnetize what you want outwards.

You feel anxious because you also don’t truly know what you want out of career, once you clear through the surface layers of wanting prestige, acclaim, etc, then you have to really examine what work matters to you and to figure out what you can do towards that. Like if you really care about poverty, how can you do work to alleviate poverty for others. It can look different, maybe you do marketing for a non profit that works with poverty or maybe you pass out bus passes to homeless people you see. We are in an unprecedented career time collectively. So many places are hiring, you could probably get any kind of job, but be more intentional with where you apply and where you want to put your life force and energy.

Work Your Light Oracle

Transformation— things are changing at a cellular level. Deep healing.

First, this card confirms the channeled message above, but also this thing I saw recently just came to mind. A lot of us are now learning to align with authenticity and that applies to career too. Is your authentic self a business owner and how are you holding yourself back from stepping into all you are? This is part of the work you need to do while you are in this intermediary time of reflecting on what you really want outside of the societal constructs we’ve normalized.

Goddess Guidance Oracle

I asked which goddess you could call on for strength and you got…

Maeve— cycles and rhythms

“Honor the cycles of your body, energy levels and emotions.”

So first I’m hearing honor this cycle of your career, being lost and not knowing is a season and it too shall pass. How can you enjoy this time of uncertainty? This card is telling me the universe is trying to align you to a job that honors your emotional and physical cycles more, like maybe you aren’t a morning person and you get a job that has a flexible start time. Or maybe you get a job where you can take a nap every day. A lot of work collectively is being done around the body and getting back to our natural cycles. Pay attention to sleep cycles, menstrual cycles (if you menstruate), eating cycles, and hunger cues. Become more in tune with your body! Our body picks up so much information and many of us don’t know how to connect with that physical side of ourselves. Consider trying new ways of moving your body.

Hope this helps :) Would love to know how it resonates. 💜

#channeled message #career reading #career tarot #career advice

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beloved-31-proverbs-women · 2 years

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A love letter from the Father

Don’t feel sad about where you are today, things are rarely as they first appear. Drift away above the clouds and see beyond this point in time. This will be like indulging in the aroma of melted chocolate before taking the long-awaited bite.

My promise to you will come to life and all that is needed has been implanted within–like a radiant oak tree hidden inside of the acorn seed. Fall into My generous love as I radically change your outlook. This is a transformational moment–like changing into a butterfly.

Let’s get away from everything that troubles you. Let go of every worry, doubt, and feeling of desperation. Detach yourself from replaying the negative conditions over in your head and completely forget about how bad things look.

Relax, have fun and enjoy the promised outcome before it arrives! Laugh a lot more and become stressless–things are coming at just the right time! The absence of fearful resistance opens the way to effortless receiving.

Come into focus to encounter your first taste of freedom. Return your attention to the end result of My promise. Live from that place of no longer wanting. My darling, you already have it. Absorb My promises as who you are as the power of My abundance flows through you.

Many of your most treasured dreams will be birthed in the midst of circumstances that don’t match up. I have ensured that all that was lost will be replaced–as I herald your dreams into life.

Look ahead to what I have promised and don’t see the problems in front of you. Imagine that the troubles and needs before you are already in the past. See what you would like your life to be like, using childlike imagination and trust.

Live as though the promise is already done and grow confidently with faith to feel the thrill of fulfillment. Rise with elegance like leaves reaching towards the sun, as you celebrate with uncontainable joy that it has been done.

You will experience breathtaking beauty from My transforming presence. Your skin will be renewed, with the smoothness of a child and the splendor of your blossoming years will be restored with vigor and youth.

I have plans to give you the hope of your final outcome. I give My children prosperity and peace– the Lord has spoken! Expect something good! I am going to proclaim My goodness over you. Yes–I will honor My vows and keep My promises.

You don’t need to worry about how or when, things will unfold into one beautiful moment at a time–like individual beams of a perfect rainbow stretching across the sky.

Remember that I am the One who gives you the power to flourish. Things are not as they look. Much is happening in the unseen realm, like oak trees being pollinated by the invisible wind. Blessing after blessing is pouring out to you–overflowing and beyond what you can hope or imagine!

Just as most acorns are planted by trees themselves, I have prepared many more beautiful things that you have never even thought about. You will be shocked by the tangible expressions of My love.

Like thriving trees filling up the forest floor, you will prosper more and more until you are enormously blessed and a blessing to others. Enjoy where you are at right now…because everything as you know it will be changing very soon into the new you!

#godbetheglory #truth #jesus #pray #holy spirit #love #faith #my love 💞#god #grace #salvation #lord help me #my rock #lord have mercy #he loves me #father god #faith in jesus

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skyborn-reads · 3 years

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🎆 Message From The Universe

“...for when you hear thunder, it's only the Universe clearing Its throat to drop more tea on you.”

Pictures source

Sky 1 — Pathways

Cards drawn: Eight of Swords, Four of Pentacles

There are mainly three groups who choose this pile. Some of you want to escape the current rhythms of life. Some of you want to stay. Some of you don't know whether you should stay or leave. You stand right where you are but your eyes are darting here and there. I hope this reading helps all of you in your quest, whichever way you wish to go or remain.

To people who want to break free from the past rhythms of life — no longer will you be bound to stagnancy. The worst has passed and you have bore witness to its trials and tribulations. Now the Universe is asking you if you dare to make that one choice to free yourself from the burden. Be aware, as the crossroad is nigh.

To the ones who want to stay — there's something you're holding onto. You won't want to leave because you still feel there's gold to be mined where you are, metaphorically speaking. You still see the benefits of staying where you are, and you're right, but it would take a struggle to mine the gold, and you won't always get what you want. The Universe trusts you to make the best decision for yourself. So whether to charge towards the next stop or lay low in wait, the choice is up to you, always up to you.

To people whose eyes are darting around looking lost — ask yourself what you want and what your priority is. You have many options and it seems like every path bears fruit, but there is one path that is meant for you, and you're the best person to decide which one it is. Good luck, because you might meet challenges on your path that will strengthen you and help you become stronger and wiser than you are now.

To all of you — the next months will be an eye-opening experience for you. You'll see the true face of many people, see your situation from different viewpoints. You'll understand the rhythm of things and even be able to predict how it would eventually lead. You're safe and guided. You'll land where you want to land, but first as already mentioned there will be tests, and fortunately luck will be at your side 🍀

Your journey will be easier if you know what to hold onto and what to let go. You seem to want to hold onto more than you can but some of those things no longer serve you. Do you see their true value? Do you know what's good for you and what will ultimately cause you more sorrow? Release them now. It will be painful, but it will be worth it in the long run. There is an end to everything. By releasing them you will see joy and freedom as never felt. I wish you guys a lot of love and a lot of happiness 💚🍀💚

Sky 2 — Gifts

Cards drawn: Ace of Wands (reversed), Page of Wands

You lose something, you gain something. You've recently let go of something, but you'll be a lot grounded from your experiences and will have an inner knowing of what's good for you and what's not. Imagine waking up from a restful sleep to a cool relaxing morning. You'll feel recharged, there's nothing in this world that you cannot accomplish. You'll gain true inner strength, my dears, but not overnight. The next coming months of your life will be one that your future self will look back to and smile, for you'll transform a lot, you're the mountain in the woods — grounded, serene and wise.

Also, some new opportunities are coming your way 💚 For some of you you'll meet new people who bring you fortune, some of you will receive money, or a new investment. For some of you, your future partner will be stepping into your life in the coming months 😁💕

You'll also have a new goal. This goal will make you feel hopeful and giddy. There's a lot of love vibes here so the goal can be in the romance apartment. Some of you will be going on a date! You'll find your heart overflowing with love and the ecstacy of new love 💖 Congratulations to you!!

For others of you, your heart will be a desert no more and the warmth of self love will flow through you. By showing love to yourself, you're manifesting your future lover into your life. Take it step by step and don't rush. They will enter your life surely, and if you practise self love you will be on your best state to welcome them.

Sky 3 — Blocks

Cards drawn: Eight of Swords, The Star

This pile shares the swords card with the first pile, but unlike the first pile which is active in their quest, there's a very oppressed and stagnant energy here. I hope you guys are okay. Someone doesn't want to move forward, I feel this someone is you. You might fall victim to your limiting beliefs, believing that you are restricted, but your current situation will not improve if you don't actively make a move. I hear “make a different choice”. If you feel stuck in the same situations over and over again, it's time to make a different choice. Stop being passive. Choosing the same doors every time won't bring you to new destinations. I feel you already know that, but there's no action from your part that affirms that you want a change.

I'm sorry to say that nobody will be able to help you if you choose to remain where you are. You must first make a move. When you do, even if the road ahead might be rocky, you'll encounter people who will help you. For some of you you have kept something in your heart for a long time. You want to say it but you fear what would happen if you do. Your current situation is what happens when you don't. You're called to make a decision — which way will you choose?

You might have also recently left a toxic part of your life, be it environment or people. Your heart has tears flowing, but the Universe congratulates you on your decision to leave this situation. Soon flowers will blossom from your tears, and you'll see that they lead you to a happier place, one where you'll feel you finally belong, one where happiness resides deep within your soul ❤️ Pile 3, are you ready to welcome this change into your life? Lick your wounds for however long you need. When you're ready, the stars will shine bright for you, and you'll know where to go.

“Be it rain or blizzard, my heart stays with you.” — someone who loves you.

Sky 4 — Pillows

Cards drawn: Death, Ten of Cups

You feel tired, dears, worn out. What you've been through must be rough. Please take a rest before you continue on your path, and don't argue with me. You need the rest.

You've seen lots over the past few months of your lives, things that made you question loyalty of people who you once loved. You are starting to have doubts whether you've made the right choices all along. You have, you're just going through setbacks but the sun still rises at the darkest times. Tomorrow we'll rise and try again, shall we?

The Universe advises you to spend time in solitude to reassess your life. Don't take everything in one go, try to adopt a slow and peaceful eye to your inner thoughts. Immerse yourself in your hobbies, this time not to make money or stress yourself out, but to take the time to enjoy them as only hobbies that are meant to bring you joy. They will make you feel so loved, and you'll start to see that there's warmth to every melting candle, there are things to appreciate in every low point in life. The Universe will be gifting you a change of perspective, my dears. Because in order to grow one must first see that there is more to life than how it used to be. Soon, you'll grow wiser in mind.

But a change of perspective isn't all that the Universe will offer you. You'll soon receive an offer, an invitation if you will to make a choice. This choice will pave the way to your future family, a loved one who will adore you like the diamond you are, and most importantly, true emotional connection. For some of you this person is a soulmate. Please note that this is only the beginning towards meeting them. This path will have its own challenges, challenges on you, on your future spouse, and on the connection between you two. So take my advice and rest up first my loves, you'll need it for what's next 💖💤💖

#free reading #free readings #intuitive reading #intuitive readings #pac #divination #pick a card #universe #72 #73 #74 #75

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hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Update: The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 6

A little pain relief for everything I've put you through

Read on AO3

When Azriel landed in the training ring he shook his head, exasperated with himself. Now that he was here, what exactly did he plan to do? He couldn’t very well find Gwyn’s room, shake her awake, and beg her to forgive him.

He took a moment to survey the ring, racks of wooden weapons, steel, shields. The Valkyries had grown from desperation to get Nesta on the right track to three females surviving the Blood Rite to a small legion of Illyrians, priestesses, and other fae. They would be outgrowing the space soon, and he pondered that as the stone glowed blue in the moonlight.

Gwyn had never spoken much about the Blood Rite, not that he could blame her. The Illyrian tradition was barbaric under normal circumstances, and much more so with Briallyn’s meddling – with the intention of killing all three of the females. Azriel couldn’t help but grin to himself.

How spectacularly had her plan backfired.

He had not admitted that Cassian was not the only one sleepless and mortified that week, but where the general was a barely-contained force of will and expression Azriel was schooled in hiding his emotion. He’d had to stay stoic – to find Briallyn and Koschei, to support his brother while his mate fought for her life. But his relationship with Gwyn had begun to develop by then, as well. Slowly. It was all he could do some days not to fly in and destroy them all. She had already suffered unspeakable horrors, and the possibility that she had been at the mercy of Illyrian males – bred with a thirst for blood and flesh – had been nearly unbearable.

When that general is finished hurting her she has to feel the soul-crushing terror of watching the next soldier take his place because you don’t come to save her.

He ran a hand through his onyx hair, remembering Nesta’s words. His shadows seemed to wither around him, drooping over his shoulders and wings. How had it come to this?

The shadowsinger sat himself down on the ground, knees drawn up. He rested his forearms on them and gazed at the ink-dark sky painted with stars. Much like his High Lord, seeing the stars had always been a comfort to Azriel – a reminder that he was free from the prison of his upbringing, that he had escaped and had replaced his father and brothers with a family that cared for him and showed him what love and brotherhood really meant.

His found family had grown so much in such a short time. He was grateful for that, for so many reasons. Rhys had emerged from Under the Mountain a broken male and Feyre had helped piece him back together. She had quickly become a glue for all of them, holding them tight and treating them with such love that Azriel was often awed by it. It wasn’t hard defending her, being dedicated to her safety as High Lady. She was far more than a monarch to him.

Then came Nesta and Elain, and what a storm that had been. Cassian and Nesta were meant to be since the beginning, but that path had been long and painful, and not just for his ears and the new… sanitation concerns for public living spaces in the house. Sometimes he was surprised that he counted Nesta as his friend. She had been intentionally hurtful so many times. How often had he seen the pain in his brother’s countenance because of something she had said or done? And yet now he understood her, maybe more than he cared to admit. She had been hurting and afraid and overflowing with self-loathing.

He had hurt Gwyn for those very reasons.

Gwyn.

He felt his shoulders and wings sag with the weight of Nesta’s questions tonight. Accusations thinly veiled as questions, and each one like a carefully crafted throwing knife plunged into his gut. He’d made her cry for at least the third time in as many weeks. Training and working to exhaustion, and not being able to sleep because of the worsening nightmares – nightmares that had cruelly transformed to remind her that he had abandoned her.

Even his shadows felt heavy.

The spymaster hung his head, shame like a blanket smothering him in summer heat. How could he ever forgive himself for causing that pain? It was a fate he had personally prevented, and now she was forced to experience it in her dreams. Because of him. Because he was a coward.

Azriel let his eyes drift closed and focused on his breathing. Sleep would not be an option tonight, and he could only pray that the priestess was sound asleep in the house, getting the rest she so desperately needed. Training didn’t seem to be in the cards either, as he sifted through the torrent of thoughts and emotions. He just needed to sit and think. And in the morning, he would speak with Gwyn as soon as he could. He would fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to.

“Azriel?”

The inky tendrils flitted to life around him at the sound of that voice. Cauldron damn him, of course she would find him now. But part of him was relieved to be able to talk to her so soon – that she was even here.

“Azriel, are you alright?” His heart squeezed at the softness of Gwyn’s voice, music to his ears – a sweet melody with harmonies of concern and kindness. How could she still be so kind to him?

“I don’t deserve to be asked that. Especially not by you,” he murmured, staring down at the stone between his feet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Azriel.” Her soft footsteps seemed to echo in his head, a ringing alarm that she was coming closer. He didn’t want to run from her, but his heart was still racing. How could he face her inevitable rejection? He noticed her shadow fall over the space between his legs and when he looked up she was crouching in front of him, eyes shining with sincerity. “You deserve for people to care about you. And I do. I won’t just leave you out here alone when anyone could see the weight of the world pressing down on you.”

Gods, but wasn’t that exactly what he had done to her?

The shadowsinger had no air in his chest as he studied her. The expression on her face was difficult to describe – caring and teasing and scolding all rolled into glittering ocean eyes and the slightest quirk of her full lips. She rose and his gaze followed as she held her hand out to him, beckoning him to stand with her. It took more courage than he cared to admit to place his violence-scarred hands in hers, but their warmth spread through him like sunshine warming his bones as she helped him to his feet.

She didn’t let go, and that gave him the strength he needed.

“Nesta found me at the river house tonight. She had… a lot to say,” Azriel began as he saw color bloom on Gwyn’s cheeks. She looked down to their hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for her to –“ He squeezed her hands and she snapped her head back up to meet his gaze.

“I deserved every single bit of venom she threw at me, Gwyn. Do not apologize.” The shadowsinger looked down, then, unsure how to move forward or which of his many transgressions he should address first. So he asked, “Is it true? About the nightmares? That… that I don’t come for you?” He could feel the emotion catching in his throat, cracking his voice. His eyes burned as he looked back to the priestess. Her lips were pressed together as she tried to keep the silver lining her eyes from spilling down over her cheeks.

“Yes,” she whispered, lashes lowering as the silent tears fell. Each droplet was a nick in his heart, the guilt and pain salting those wounds. How could she be so strong, to endure this agony and yet hold the hands that caused it? He released one of the hands and lifted it to her face, hesitating with his fingers a breath away from her cheek. Azriel had his mouth open to ask if he could touch her when she leaned her face into his palm. He brushed at her tears with his thumb before bringing up his other hand, cupping her jaw.

“Gwyn,” he breathed, pleading silently for her to look at him. The shining pools that opened to him were so enthralling, depths shimmering with trepidation. Gods, what he would do to bring back the joy in those eyes. “I will always come for you. No matter what. And I will never be able to forgive myself that there might be any part of your mind or your heart or your soul that could believe otherwise.” He watched as she took a shuddering breath, but her eyes held his and he was emboldened.

“I’m so sorry, Gwyn. For all of this. I was a fool and a coward and I let my guilt and my fear own me. And it only hurt you.”

Gwyn’s hands covered the scars on his own as she pulled them away from her face, returning them to their place entwined between them. Azriel stayed silent and her head tilted as she studied him.

“What could you possibly be afraid of?” she released a hoarse, hiccupped laugh. The shadowsinger could only gulp down a breath and look toward the stars.

“I… I was afraid of the feelings I was developing for you. And of the pain I would feel when you would see all the things I have done and the monster that I am and run away from me. Or that you would be hurt because of this darkness inside of me.” His eyes had returned to hers and, while he saw understanding swimming there, her expression was uncompromising.

“Have I not been hurt already?” Her bluntness shocked him, and he felt the slightest twinge of panic that told him to run. Her fingers tightened like a vice around his hands and he saw her eyes darken, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t you dare even think about running away, Azriel. Not now. I deserve better from you.” Even his shadows seemed focused on where their hands touched, intent on keeping them tied together.

She did. She deserved so much better. Better than what he’d done. Shame washed over him that he could have thought to flee from her. Again. He had already wronged her… too many times. But he had come here determined to right those wrongs. Azriel wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to give her what she deserved, if he would ever be good enough for her. But he sure as fuck was going to try.

“You’re right,” he conceded, that panic replaced by resolution and a faint, foolish glimmer of hope. “I’m not going anywhere.” She grinned softly and he thought his chest would burst from relief. They were still here, together, talking. They were going to figure this out.

“Why did you run, Azriel? If you care for me, like you say,” she demanded, that sea-deep stare piercing straight into his soul. “Why? Why are you afraid of me seeing who you are?”

He should have known that she would demand an explanation. Gwyn was strong and confident. She knew her worth and what she deserved, and him sharing the story behind all of his idiotic decisions was the very least of that. But he was not prepared, and he didn’t want to. He never wanted to darken others’ lives with his history.

“That’s… a long story, Gwyn,” he huffed, hoping that might be the end of it. But he saw her eyes, determination and challenge and fire blazing blue in the moonlight.

“We have all night.” She released his hands and gestured to the darkness around them. She would not be deterred, would not back down until she accomplished her goal. It was one of the many things he admired so much about her. “Should we sit?”

Azriel found himself smiling as he nodded, sitting cross-legged on the stone. Even though the impending admissions rang as a death knell in his mind, it warmed his heart to know that she cared so deeply – that she wanted to know the worst of him.

He had put her through enough, and he could relive his pain and push out his fear for this night, if only for her.

“I don’t know where to start.” He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick he was usually good at hiding. But then Gwyn – that sweet, incredible, special female – gathered his other hand with those long, pale, graceful fingers and he felt the tension ease. He looked at her, taking in the beauty and serenity of her features. Freckles were scattered over cheeks stained pink, an encouraging smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

“The beginning seems like a good place, don’t you think?”

So that’s where he began.

~~~

Azriel was not proud that he could not find the strength to look at Gwyn as he walked her through his story, but he could still hear and feel her reactions. And he dared a glance at her from time to time, trying to read everything her eyes were saying. He told her about the cell he was kept in as a child, how little touch or affection or love he had experienced, and how the shadows around him seemed to move and react and speak. She clutched his hand tighter when he told her about what had happened to them, that his brothers had set fire to them to see how he would heal. She hadn’t said a word, but he smelled the salt from tears and felt impossibly soft strokes of her thumbs over those scars.

He explained his time in Illyria and the fearsome reputation he and Cassian had to maintain, simply to make up for the circumstances of their birth. And while Cassian had been brute force and power, Azriel was deadly calm, precision, intellect, terror. He admitted to her how he had hoped to find validation in his role as spymaster under Rhysand’s father, and that he could truly revel in his duties under the right circumstances.

“Those soldiers I killed in Sangravah,” he told her. “I would have enjoyed dragging out their deaths as long as possible for what they did to you.”

Gwyn’s hands were so gentle around his as he told her how much the death and darkness grated against his soul, and how he’d had nothing to tether him to the light. He talked to her about Mor, a waste of literal centuries. And then, somehow, he told her about Elain. Not that he’d loved her, because he never had. But that he’d felt entitled to her, like he deserved what his brothers had found with the other two sisters. That he was the third brother and she was the third sister and that was all that mattered. His entitlement, his lust and desire for the bond - as opposed to love for the person - just another ugly facet of his true self.

“So I suppose that brings me to you, to these past few weeks.” Azriel made sure to meet her gaze for this. “I panicked after the necklace, because I wasn’t prepared for what it would do to me to see that hurt in your eyes. And when I told you things would go back to normal I still didn’t know what to do. I thought distance would be best between us, because I knew you would be able to draw me out of myself. And that was dangerous.”

The shadowsinger’s throat burned with emotion when Gwyn smiled softly. He could see so much roaring in her gaze, but there was no sign of pity or disgust or fear. Azriel ran his free hand through his hair before resting it atop their other clasped hands. Wetness burned his eyes, but he didn’t care.

“When I found you in the rain that night, I could smell your tears and I saw your hands – split knuckles and bruised, swollen fingers. And,” he choked down his feelings even as the tears began their descent, “and I was torn apart with the guilt. It was my fault that you were doing that to yourself. I might has well have put those marks on you with my own two vile hands.” Azriel closed his eyes and let the tears fall – not many, but enough. The silence rang through his ears, his history hanging between them. He waited for the fear, the rejection, especially when she drew her hands away from his. But his eyes snapped open when delicate calloused fingers stroked his cheeks. Gwyn had risen to her knees to dry the wetness on them, her stare a storm of trust and understanding... and compassion.

“Thank you for telling me your story, Azriel,” she whispered. “I see you. You have nothing to fear. I’m still right here.” Then she smiled brightly, and he unraveled.

“Gwyn, I don’t know if you can ever forgive me – I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t. But I care for you as more than a teacher, more than a friend. You are a light in my dark life and these past few weeks have been miserable without you in them.” Her smile widened slightly and he reached out a thumb to catch a stray tear that had fallen from those precious, beautiful eyes. He felt his own grin pushing his cheeks against her warm hands.

“I care for you, too, Azriel. As more than a friend.”

He held that watery stare until she released his face. She stood up, brushing off her knees before reaching her hands to him again to help him to his feet. He tilted his head curiously at the determination flashing in her eyes.

“Here is what’s going to happen,” she began, looking down at her hands in his. “Before we pursue anything… romantically, I need to be sure that this isn’t something that will happen again.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she pressed her fingers against his lips. “We both have darkness and fear and I understand that. But if you feel it taking over, I need you to come to me, to talk to me. Because if I open my heart to you and this happens again – if you insist on shutting yourself off from me or deciding for me what I deserve or want – I will be heartbroken.” The confession left Azriel raw.

“What can I do, Gwyn? How can I reassure you?” He could hear the desperation in his own voice, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“We are going to go back to how things were before this mess.” She had returned her hand to his and gave both a squeeze. A shadow darted down around them, as if to approve of the contact. “The way it was that led us to realize that we feel the way we do. And you are going to prove to me that we can have what we had before I found out about that stupid, lovely necklace. Do you think you can do that?” He could have fallen to his knees seeing the hope in those ocean eyes, mirroring the spark of hope inside of him. It was something he hadn’t dared to let himself fully feel with her.

“I will.” Azriel’s voice was low and rough. “I swear it.”

“And then we can decide what comes next. And I can prove to you that your hands and your darkness are just as important to me as the rest of you.”

He was grinning like a fool, he knew. He still had a chance, because Gwyneth Berdara was the definition of grace and love. And by the Mother he would not screw this up.

He felt more than saw her wrap her arms around his back, pulling herself into him. For a moment he was frozen by the intimacy of it – shocked by her initiation of it – but he quickly let his arms settle around her waist. He breathed in, pulling her tighter, and leaned his cheek on the crown of her head.

“Don’t let me down, Shadowsinger,” she muttered into his chest. He chuckled and dared to move one hand to comb through her hair. “I want to see… what comes next.” He wanted to see, too. He wanted to know what it was like to look to the future and see more than dread and loneliness and exhaustion. He could see it with her.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Berdara.”

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ukai-simp-services · 3 years

Text

because i love you

prompt: tainted hues: “if you loved them, why did you break their heart?”

@tooruluv | #tooruluv2kparty

oikawa x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, poor mental health, depression, heartbreak, small panic attack, alcoholism.

a/n: why am i so sad after writing this,, i think this is my first time writing angst with no fluff T^T

somewhere in argentina, there is a large penthouse with tall windows and cornered with perfectly trimmed green hedges. the interior of the penthouse is simple, there are no memories cluttering the walls, there are no fairy lights adorning the windows, there are no bento boxes in the fridge, and there are no sweet scented candles in every room of the house.

there is only dull colored furniture, only overflowing laundry baskets, only a kitchen sink filled to the brim with dirty dishes, and only empty liquor bottles littering the dining table.

a home without you, is hardly a home.

in this penthouse, a young man, barely 25 years old, sits at the kitchen table with a glass of fernet in his hand. one large window is opened, letting the warm evening breeze rustle the thin kitchen curtains and brush over his exposed skin.

oikawa still couldn’t stop thinking about what iwaizumi had asked him two years ago.

no amount of mind numbing liquor could ever make him forget that interaction -inevitably, the last face-to-face interaction he ever had with his best friend.

“oikawa, if you loved her, then why would you break her heart?”

oikawa gasps to himself, suddenly feeling chills run up his back, as if the memory happened just yesterday.

he remembers vividly how furious iwaizumi’s voice was and the tired look in his best friend’s eyes - a look that all but told oikawa that he was exhausted picking up the shattered pieces that he always left behind.

he downs the glass of fernet.

he pours himself another.

he remembers that, that was the first time he had nothing to say - the first time that tōru oikawa was at a loss for words. because men like oikawa, men with quick rebuttals and prepared excuses, always knew exactly what to say in every situation.

that day, iwaizumi had walked away from oikawa with sadness in his eyes, no trace of hostility to be found anymore. there was no slap to the back of oikawa’s head, no ear piercing screaming of a lecture, and no insults thrown at him. there was nothing.

but oikawa would’ve preferred a slap to the head or some sort of beating.

a gentle ache presents itself in oikawa’s throat, threatening a small cry to stumble out.

oikawa washes it away with a swig to his drink.

iwaizumi is a faint presence in oikawa’s life now, he calls and texts - the occasional check up - but he had stopped being his best friend a long time ago.

losing a brother pains him; it burns from the depths of his core, but losing you practically kills him; it steals every bit of oxygen from his lungs.

because, ultimately, you were his reason for living - for breathing; your warmth, your comfort, your presence is what kept oikawa going every day. without you, his days are meaningless, he inevitably lives his life without purpose.

but, now he finds it ironic; he chose volleyball over you, his life.

everyday, from 9am to 7pm, he mindlessly serves, sets, and passes a volleyball. for hours on end, he feels his muscles contract and relax as he tosses the ball up high, just for him to smack it down against a cold and shiny gym floor, he watches at it ricochets back into the air just to fall back down onto the ground again. bounce bounce bounce, till the sound ceases and the ball rests in its place.

oikawa now wonders when a blinding passion - a heart pounding desire to play this sport, turned into just a distraction. he finds that now when the very familiar surface of the volleyball brushes up against his palm, he no longer feels his adrenaline pumping with excitement; he feels resent.

because trying to dissipate his memories of you by overworking his body everyday no longer worked anymore, if anything it only made things worse.

every game, every screech of his name from the crowd, every praising cheer after he makes an award winning serve, it all reminds him that you aren’t in the stands cheering him on. faces upon faces, all different colors and all different shapes, none of them are yours.

oikawa hisses as he feels a dull ache in his knee, the same knee you would spend hours massaging after practice every day.

the lump in his throat has become more apparent now, he drowns it out with the bitter liquid in his cup - trying to suppress the feelings that will always be there.

he is only 25, yet he can feel his body beginning to give up on him. his muscles are weaker than they were two years ago, his bones throb under his weight with every step he takes, and his mind is continuously drifting off into oblivion.

he wonders who he is living for at this point. he can’t lie to himself and say that volleyball is his reason, because then who is he playing it for?

this country; even with its busy streets and loud music - he still can’t help but feel alone.

his favorite memory of you plays in his mind like a film, it’s grainy and colored with a brown, faded hue. your hair whipping in the wind, your dress flowing over your hips, your feet sinking into the sand, your hand intertwined with his, and your mouth open with that melody of a laugh spilling out of it.

he remembers your skin felt soft, flawless against his calloused palm. shimmering silver earrings decorated your ears, a gift he had gotten you for your birthday. the air around you was warm, despite the unforgiving ocean winds that was tussling through your hair and clothes.

as the memory plays, your laugh begins to fade away in the wind, the already loud noise getting increasingly louder and louder. his ears are ringing now, he can’t hear your laugh anymore. the sky is no longer a heavenly blue, it is now an unsettling gray. your body, your hand holding his, the scenery of the beach, is being ripped from his mind and transforming into a different memory, one he would kill to forget.

there you were, eyes big and brimming with tears, standing in front of him. the beach background has now turned into your shared apartment in japan, both of you in the living room. you open your mouth, but oikawa can’t hear your voice - he remembers your words vividly, but his mind refuses to play them.

tears spilling down your cheeks, your hands balled into fists; oikawa watches as he breaks down the one person who he deemed to be unbreakable. everything he had built - everything you had built, he watches fall apart for the hundredth time.

a sharp pain shoots through his chest, snapping him back to reality.

he clutches at the fabric of his t-shirt, heaving breaths fall from his lips as he tries to compose himself.

the cup full of fernet falls to the floor, pieces of his heart are scattered on the floor alongside the broken glass.

oikawa lost meaning in his life the second he walked out the door that shameful day; he lost his motivation, his strive.

everyday, his body aches with loss. the sounds of cars racing down the busy streets, the loud music playing from his favorite coffee shop, the smacking of countless volleyballs being slammed down onto gym floors, and the lively chattering coming from some rom-com that he left playing on his flat screen tv, all sound like background noise to him - numbly playing in his ears as background music to the memories he constantly has playing in his mind.

oikawa never knew about loss or pain until you, never imagined that this is what it would feel like.

but, loss has made him wiser; he knows now what will lie ahead for the both of you. he knows that as years come and go, the pain will begin to diminish a little, bit by bit - but he also knows that there’s no way that it’ll ever fully leave his heart.

because, as he gets older, he’ll only get more tired. his skin will begin to wrinkle, hair will start to gray, his bones will ache from weight of the world, his lungs will begin collapsing from the pressure constantly on his chest, and his heart will eventually cease to beat, from the death grip you still have on it.

he will age unforgivingly, eyes devoid of any color - they have already lost the once charming glint they used to hold.

unlike him, he knows you’ll only burn brighter as the upcoming years pass you by.

you’ll get back on your feet, your skin will glow again, your muscles will strengthen and your heart will beat with a newfound passion to love yourself - that’s something he’s always admired about you, the passion you held for all things involving love.

you’ll age with an unstoppable beauty; you’ll laugh and smile so much that permanent crinkles will form next to your eyes, you’ll dance so much that your muscles grow tired, you’ll fall in love again and have all those kids you wanted - kids that will fill every single gap in your heart that oikawa left behind.

despite pure science and human biology, your youth will never leave you. you’re one of the few people oikawa has met that have the ability to live young forever. your soul is unbreakable. sure, oikawa may have put a mere scratch on it, but he never came close to cracking it.

and that’s the difference between you and him; he will die miserable and alone, heart poorly stitched together and the inside of his body bruised and weak. you will pass away surrounded by people who also - like him - became allured by your kind spirit and your lively energy. his body will fall weak from exhaustion, but yours will fall weak from years of dancing and laughing and singing. his heart will die battered with pain, your heart will die full of love and forgiveness.

it’s painful to think about, but oikawa knows this is the truth, and simply just how life works. he won’t sugarcoat it for himself, he knows his ending is exactly what he deserves.

so he begins writing a note. the bottle of fernet he was previously so dependent on, is now long forgotten. he holds a shiny black pen in his hand and a white slip of paper in his other. he clicks the pen and holds the tip above the blank page for a few beats; hesitating, before he’s letting the words flow out.

it starts, with an answer to a question.

“i broke her heart, because i love her.”

#laughs nervously #tooruluv2kparty #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq angst #oikawa tooru #hq #oikawa toru #oikawa toru headcanons #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x fem!reader #oikawa angst #tooru oikawa angst #haikyuu smau #haikyuu angst

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meenah-chan · 3 years

Text

Safe haven

a Diavolo x GN! MC fanfic

2.36k words

Genre: Angst

Trigger warning: Insane deadly stunt but not suicide, please don't read if you have this triggers. And please don't try this at home... or anywhere

Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~) | Part 3 (Safe Haven ~Epilogue~)

Masterlist

It is their sanctuary. A place that has everything they could wish for...

if only, fate isn't fickle...

"If I jump, will you save me again?"

"What a wretched soul I have..."

It’s been an hour since they were staring far in the horizon. Dusk is on its way, with the lake gulping the sun whole to bring forth darkness in the grassy land they’re on. That place is secluded, surrounded with trees serving as its walls. As if it were cradling them away from everything.

It's not their first-time watching day turn to night on where they are. They’ve known that spot enough to vividly paint the place on a whim.

It was neither a simple place as it seems. That place is a part of the human realm, untouched by anyone but two persons— them and Diavolo. A place which witnessed how the said Prince dropped on his knees and confessed he likes them. The place they admit they felt the same.

The place where they held hands in their secret rendezvous; times where the Future king would go to whenever he ran away from his endless responsibilities for a day and spend it with them, with words of affections and adorations for each other. It is their safe haven.

The Forget-me-not flowers they planted are blooming around them. As the two sat beneath the shade of the tree, appreciating the presence of the flowers and each other.

Diavolo has a habit of caressing their cheeks, brushing strands of their locks past their ears, as he embraces them as if they were the most precious treasure, he has ever held. Those smiles he would beam; brighter than the sol they always see. "You're the most beautiful being I have ever seen." And they would smile back, with their feelings overflowing so much they would always pour it back to him with a kiss.

But being always in that place doesn't mean they never left it. There are times they would give him a heart attack by literally jumping off the edge of the cliff. The demon prince then would follow them in a snap, before transforming right before their eyes and seizing them.

They knew it was a foolish thing to do. No sane person would ever carry out such dumb, dangerous stunt. They do have a magic or two under their sleeves should Diavolo fail the task. Spells they would feverishly study and tirelessly practice for the sake of the success of the Exchange Student program; for the sake of making Diavolo proud of them. So, they studied hard, yet fools only around their beloved.

So, they kept on flying off to the danger at every given chance. For the feeling during the times they would fall, they had the best view they could ever see in their lifetime. How the demon they ever loved could be so... breathtaking. Turning into his demon form—metamorphosing like a dazzling butterfly, his red locks fluttering in the wind, with such golden ornaments, such golden eyes reflecting the radiance of the sun. And most of all, such playful, thrilled smiles they would willingly lay their life just to see. He seems like the mesmerizing golden red dusk. He may be a demon, but Diavolo is much more divine than the angels in their eyes.

And to think that such an ambrosial prince would hold them in his firm arms, and bury them in his well-toned chest before gliding up in the air. They really love the feeling. Akin to the flowers they cultivate symbolizes, he is their true love.

"Should we land back on the top of the land?"

"Just a little bit longer." Humming, they would place a peck onto the tip of his horn or temple whenever they would request something so badly, which then would receive a chuckle from the Demon. "Hahaha, what a pampered human... Alright, just a little bit longer." And who knows how long they stay in the air. Then they would share small talks back on the cliff, and soon be bombarded with tons of messages and missed calls from the butler and the right-hand man. They would head back home after that, before the said aides decide to search for them and find their secret haven.

It was all they could ever wish for. An everlasting love to carry inside their mortal heart.

They have everything they could ask for, until that day comes. A moonless, rainy night during the celebration of Diavolo's birth.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, the Future King of Devildom." …the day she came. Rosa, a rather respected princess, and the daughter of Queen Rose.

"...N-No, the pleasure is mine." Whether he was flustered by her sudden appearance or not, something was rather amiss. His gaze towards her was different than anything they've ever seen him make. So different yet... familiar. Like the way his eyes sparked of reverie the day they first met, except it was more profound.

Diavolo sighed, "I'm telling you, you don't have to worry. You know you're the one I love." It was nothing, he said. It was only in their imagination, he said. Even so, the connection between the two they perceived every time the two met on business, felt so real.

They were so anxious, so angry they wanted to explode. They want to blame it all on that demon princess who appeared out of nowhere, and brought everything to a big mess! They wanted to lash at her, right from the deepest pit of their stomach!

...Yet, they didn't.

They simply can't. Not when she was like an angel who descended in the land of darkness.

So pure yet so wise, so diligent and well-versed. She is strong-willed and rather capable in every aspect. She doesn't deserve to be blamed for something she didn't mean to do. It was merely a work of two hearts naturally falling for each other. It was inevitable.

Instead of brooding without doing anything, they will fight. They will fight for what's theirs. For what's right. For the specks of affection left inside Diavolo. For their love, they won't give up.

Or so they thought...

"Y/N, would you mind having tea with me later?" Barbatos asked for their attendance.

But unlike the usual afternoon tea they always share with the butler, "Where's Diavolo?" ... the prince is not around.

"The Young master has prior engagement and brought Lucifer in my stead. My apologies if it was not to your liking."

"Ahh, no. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that... having snacks with only you are unusual." It's not unusual. Rather, it never occurred even once. Diavolo tends to postpone the teatime for another time whenever he can't go, as Barbatos always join his absence.

"Actually, I asked you today about an important matter to discuss."

"...Is it related to Diavolo and me, isn't it?" They shouldn't have asked him. They hated themself for asking Diavolo's attendant.

"Yes. To be precise, it is about your relationship and the lady you met during Young master's birthday. I believe you have the right to know this." They held their breath. "I hate to break it to you but the lady you met back then, is the Young Master's... fiancée and his soulmate." The words that came off Barbatos' lips felt like cold water dumped on them.

They just want to end the conversation right there and leave the garden as fast as they can, but they forcefully pull themself together and learn the whole truth, as painful as it is for them. "...Fiancee, you said? And what do you mean by soulmate?"

"For every heir of the throne, there is a prophecy foretelling the righteous betrothed one fated for them. This Oracle has never once failed in predicting who..." Barbatos paused, evaluating whether they could take any more. "...would help the Ruler in bringing prosperity in the Devildom."

After a minute of silence, they spoke. "Does Diavolo know all about this? About her?"

"Yes... but I swear in my name, he has always wanted to be free of the prophecy and achieve prosperity through his own power."

"Where is he headed to at the moment?"

"..." Barbatos' silence tells them everything. He is with her. That's all that they needed to know.

"I... see... Thank you for telling me this."

"I— no, I don't deserve such words from you." They shook their head, "You still disclosed this even when Diavolo wanted to keep it a secret from me. I'm sorry I brought trouble to you."

"It was my own choice. I'm just doing what I think is right."

"Thank you, really..."

They left the castle, thinking a lot of things but also finally enlightened.

They never had Diavolo's heart from the start.

He is the future of the Devildom, the future of all the demons who could easily outlive them. And for that he needs an Empress who can fully support him and bear another long-lived heir. His soulmate, his forever, his other half. Everything that they could never be.

Their life is short. His' is not. He could never fathom the extent of his life like they could. That is also the reason why they could love him until the day they cease to exist, a mere blink to him.

As obvious as the glaring sun that blinds them atop that cliff, his love... is gone.

They could see it in his eyes. Every day he spends with them, his mind is somewhere else.

Even in their favorite place, his embraces were still as cold as the mountain's peak. His smile is too forced, like a one man playing before their eyes. His kisses were prickling and painful. And his gaze... He is suffering.

Like they were.

"Forgive me." It was for the Devildom, he said. His head hangs low, wearing that distressed expression.

"Hey, lift your head? The future king shouldn't bow to anyone." They smiled, cupping his cheeks to raise his face.

"Look, I understand." It was a surprise they didn't shed a drop of tear, as they pat his head gently. "Follow your heart. You'll become a great king."

He made a wise decision, to choose his bond that suddenly came that day. Someone who really owns Diavolo's heart per destiny's decree. The heart they thought he offered back then, with the trees, and the cool breeze, and the swaying leaves, and the sunset as their witnesses. The heart they thought were already theirs. The heart that slipped from their fingers as he let go of their hand when Diavolo locked eyes with his fated one.

Diavolo's love is fleeting. Or maybe it was never love from the start, but a mere curiosity on his end. A misconception, but it doesn't matter anymore. They already knew the answer.

He already achieved his true love, holding his Empress in white. He wears that smile, much, much brighter than anything they have ever seen.

The bells sing with the crowd in jubilation. It is a merry occasion, with the official new rulers of the Devildom. All were so elated.

Except for one. "What a wretched soul I have..." they uttered under their breath. They couldn't take the sight. With the man they so love to be happy in someone's arms. Rage was boiling inside them. Staying there for a second longer and they would definitely ravage everything. So, they fled the scene, escaping to their secret place surrounded by the lake and the sea of trees.

They wanted to let it all out. Pain, sorrow, rage, envy. They were overflowing with emotion more than they could take. It should be them, placing a ring on his finger! the one smiling and crying of happiness as he makes a vow! The one who should be kissing him in front of thousands of witnesses!

"WHY?! What did I do to deserve this?!" The swaying blue and white Forget-me-nots they took with utmost care came to view. "What useless plants!!" They cried out, yanking and tearing everything off the soil. "True love?! It was only me from the very start!!"

All they could do was cry. Scream until their throat goes dry, until their voice disappears.

When all energy left their body, they slumped in the grassy land they’re on. In that secluded place, surrounded with trees serving as its walls. As if it were cradling them away from everything. Hiding their wretched self from everyone.

Dazed, they stared at the sky for an hour. As its hue turns from light blue to red, their mind gets clearer. That's when they heard a familiar sound. They followed it on the tip of the cliff.

It was the roaring waves beneath the land mass. It seems like it's continuing the cries they couldn't do anymore. Roaring like it was spilling the emotions inside them.

"If I jump, will you save me again?" They spoke to the man who is no longer in that secret place. It will never be a safe haven for them anymore.

"I want to be saved by you one more time." I want to be embraced by you one last time.

They faced their back to the rim of the cliff, and took a step backward. A foot standing on a void. And so, their body tipped, losing the other foot from the ground. As their balance disappears, they see nothing but the golden rays of the sunset and the redness of the dusk. So red like Diavolo's locks, golden like his eyes. There's nothing but only traces of him; of the man who doesn't really love them as he promised.

This is foolish... They thought. They're all alone. No Diavolo will fly down and save them anymore.

"I should go home..." Dying here would only hurt him... They whispered as the firm breeze swirls beneath, ready to catch them. After all, no one will save me but I... thinking of that, another pang spiked their heart.

But the wind spell they casted couldn't catch them. When they should have been falling, a hand appeared and pulled them in an embrace.

"Please don't do this..." it was not the warmth they were expecting. Yet, streams began flowing down their cheeks, in comfort of another’s arms. With their hoarse voice they sob the sorrow of losing their safe haven.

Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~) | Part 3 (Safe Haven ~Epilogue~)

Masterlist

#guess who fell asleep like a baby while editing this?#and while using a laptop #hahaha still I finished it anyways 😆😆💖💖#obey me diavolo #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo angst #obey me barbatos #obey me mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #om!#obey me swd #obey me masters #obey me boys #meenah-chan~~

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yournameyn · 3 years

Text

Feeling Deeply Chapter 5

Genre: Arranged Marriage Fic. Fluff turning into angst?

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. (Details here). Our OC is called Brishti. It’s a Bengali name meaning rain. Namjoon calls her Rim (short for her pet name, RimJhim which means the pitter-patter of rain). She calls him Joon.

Warnings: NOT THE NAMJOON OF OUR DREAMS. Argument. Fight over tiny discrepancies that turn out to be a huge problem. Domestic violence. Not a happy chapter.

A/N: Have you ever felt this, reader? When you watch something and realise exactly what you need to realise in that moment? I’ve had that so many times - seeing my feelings mirrored in a show. That’s something that I’ve tried to have Brishti feel here. Also, this is how I see the natural progression of this Namjoon, the one who obliged to duty rather than his dreams. It took me a long time to write this but I love what’s come out. Let me know what you think!

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Love fully blooms between Namjoon and Brishti. And yet, something’s not right. A visit to the ballet and a conversation brings forth realisations. The inklings that Brishti was trying to avoid transform into writing on the wall.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The magic about new love isn’t really in romance or even in true intimacy. It’s in how violent new love is… and just how much time it takes us to feel it’s impact.

In the new love between Namjoon and Brishti, everything had been roses and honey, overflowing, swaying in a gentle breeze. They spent every second possible in each other’s arms. They had to tear themselves away from each other when they had to leave home. And even then, it hurt as though they were part of the same cloth.

Brishti had thought about how they had become woven, their souls an ornate tapestry. Namjoon had told her then about a Japanese tradition of weaving that was a sort of meditation and a kind of worship to a god called ‘Musubi’. The disciples say it is like being part of the cosmic tapestry. Being tied to each other.

“Just like we are… I felt a pull toward you and I followed it. I was scared… so full of doubts about who you were and how this was all going to go… I had promised myself that I would fulfil my duty… whatever happened ” Namjoon had said, petting Brishti’s hand gently, “And I… I still can’t believe it… It… you make me feel like I can… trust myself.” Brishti had looked at her genius then and wondered what a strange world it must be that made a man like Namjoon doubt himself, “Always, always trust yourself, Namjoon-ah.” and settled into the crook of his neck.

It was indeed a strange world that caused Namjoon to build an armour around himself. Because ‘London’ and ‘Lonely’ sounded just the same to him. His years alone in this strange place had been unkind, unrelenting. Brishti had been the only softness he had felt in a long long time. Armours built over years can break in an instant, though. For him, it was the moment when he and his wife had crossed the threshold to becoming lovers. High on the magic of new love, he had not realised it.

Sitting across from each other after that fateful evening, Namjoon and Brishti were both wide awake in the early hours of the next morning. Brishti buttoned up the shirt they never fully took off. Namjoon had tickled her with his toes. They propped their feet against the other’s to see just how vast the difference was (he melted seeing how small her feet were and hadn’t stopped playing with them since). Caressing each toe, he remembered something he wanted to ask -

“How did you know what Saranghae is?”

“Mm…” she stretched her arms, “I know what it means…” Brishti said.

“I know you know… from the way you… after I said it… You asked Yoongi about it?” Namjoon cautiously asked about the only other Korean Brishti knew. To his surprise, she nodded no, still denying him any information. Namjoon had to tickle her foot for the answer.

“Okay! Okay! Wait! Pleeeease!” Namjoon stopped and Brishti bent down to the bureau next to her bed and pulled out a textbook - LEARN HANGUL THROUGH ENGLISH. Namjoon looked more shocked than she had expected. “I asked Yoongi about the book-”

“You don’t need to Rim… I’m not learning Bangla, am I?” Namjoon said. He was touched but he didn’t want his love to do anything he couldn’t reciprocate.

“I would have asked you to learn it… if I wrote poetry in my mothertongue...” Brishti said. Namjoon was shocked. She went on, “You really think I didn’t know?”

Namjoon blushed and smiled and flopped over in Brishti’s lap. She brushed his hair as she explained, “You light up at the mention of lyrics and poetry, you keep a notebook by your side at all times, you’re moved by the things that people usually don’t pay attention to… I know you’re a poet, Joonie.”

Namjoon looked up at her and said, “No one has ever called me that…”

Brishti leaned down and kissed her gorgeous husband. “You are... From what I know, I bet all my books that you are a great one... And… I… I would love nothing more than to be part of your world of words, Joonie… It must be strange… to be understood but in a foreign language. If you would let me, I want to understand you in your language… Do you think that’s something maybe--”

He got up and all but jumped on Brishti, pinning her down to the bed with the cutest puppy-yell she had ever heard. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

They both understood that this was a proposal. The truest kind - a gentle request to explore Namjoon’s universe. They would later joke about how she proposed to him after a month of being married. Namjoon was completely delighted by this person with him, his person… one who really saw him.

He pulled her to him saying, “You’re the best part of my world, Rim...” and kissed her.

Each moment of love flowed through the next. When they had to be separated, they couldn’t wait for the next one, their moment again. On weekends they would visit museums and find their favourite paintings and sculpture or their favourite prehistoric relic and animal. Brishti hated the fact that Namjoon had to work overtime to compensate for these weekends and she often voiced how unfair it was.

In response Namjoon would just give her a peck and say, “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” This pricked her but she was too taken by the man before her to pay heed to it.

Namjoon was just about able to keep a straight face at work but everyone around Brishti was acutely aware of how much she loved Namjoon.

At one point, her colleague and best friend, Min Yoongi had yelled at her, “Yhaaaaa! Stop blushing?! It’s just a clock… what could be romantic about a clock?!” Sayuri-san, and she were hanging around Yoongi’s table when Brishti looked at his new flip clock and started blushing.

Brishti laughed along with everyone else but explained, “It’s involuntary… that’s what happens when you’re married to a poet.”

Sayuri-san corrected, “I know too many wives of poets to know that’s not necessarily true… It is true though, when you’re in love with a poet… Go on… tell us how exactly poet Namjoon makes you blush about a clock...”

Brishti blushed even more at that. Yoongi rubbed his arms and demanded, “Tell us because there’s some really weird things coming to my mind… like you guys have an exact time when...”

Brishti stopped his imagination, “No no no… it’s nothing like that… he loves digital clocks... because he loves to watch the time turn to 00:00… zero o’clock he calls it… and on days he feels sad, it’s like zero o’clock is always there to comfort him… like it’s a point when the whole world holds its breath and he can feel happy again… but these days… with me… he said he wants the clock to keep going after 23:59… he wishes time would stretch on… beyond 24:01…”

Yoongi sighed and sat back down, “You’re making me fall in love with Namjoon… ahhh that is beautiful. He should be published...”

“Imagine him saying this directly to you and you might know how I feel… I can’t stop talking about him...”

“Oh, we know. But honestly none of us care… your poet-librarian romance is getting us through our single-ness.” Yoongi reassured her.

The three of them continued to talk about the ways in which Brishti could repay Namjoon’s wordsmithing in graphic ways.

It was that evening, wasn’t it, when Namjoon had enveloped her back in the warmest hug as soon as he’d entered their flat. Brishti was in the kitchen when she heard him enter but hadn’t expected this. He kissed her neck while telling her the good news, “We got our first Korean client today… because of me… Mmmm… Why do you always smell so amazing?”

Brishti turned around and hugged him again, “That’s amazing! Namjoon-ssi! I’m so proud of you!”

“He’s from a wealthy family… so he can actually afford our firm… its not exactly the work I wanted to do--”

“It is a step toward that idea, right? It’s still good work, fighting for justice?” Brishti asked, stopping him from undermining his own work.

Namjoon nodded, “Yeah… He’s a dancer… Park Jimin. All the posh types know him as one of the best dancers in the Royal Ballet. They call him Jim… as if it’s too difficult to say Jimin?” Namjoon shook his head in disapproval. He began helping Brishti with the chopping and continued, “He was born in the UK and trained since he was 5... He got into the Royal Ballet but he’s been passed up to be a principal over and over even though everyone who has seen him dance apparently knows that he’s far far better… So recently he spoke to the director there... and of course the director made a racist slur and asked not to bother him with this again. He can’t even quit and work at another company because of the contract they have him on. There’s a non compete clause… meaning he won’t be able to dance with any other company. That’s all he wants… to be able to get out of that contract… I’m hoping to convince him to press charges on racial discrimination too. We’re not in the 20s anymore.”

When Brishti didn’t respond, Namjoon looked up at her. “That’s horrible… I’m so so glad you’re taking up the case. But please tell me what you ate when you were alone?” He looked down at the carrot he’d been failing to cut.

Namjoon scrunched his nose and admitted, “Canned food mostly.”

Brishti said, “I’m really really glad you’re getting to do work that you are passionate about, Joonie, you deserve it. Now, you should know how to cut a carrot.”

Namjoon pressed up against Brishti’s back. She reached back up to the nape of his neck and made him moan into her. Then… then Namjoon made her forget how to cut carrots.

He had these ways… Namjoon, with his touch, his voice, his languages both spoken and soundless. He was lighting new paths into her self. She loved learning him. Paths she didn’t know existed, that she’d been longing for.

The scars of the loneliness, emptiness that Namjoon had experienced had turned his longings into a kind of starvation. He needed to be nourished and also devoured. Brishti was just the creature to do it. He could feel her warm fingers trace rows of pleasure onto his skin. He felt them bear down and singe when the two of them had to move away from each other. He felt those ropes tug at him as the end of his workday neared. Namjoon closed his eyes each night at her touch, the feeling and fragrance of her body. He felt blooms of intimacy spring up like seedlings out of the soil of his skin. And deeper. In the earth of his soul. So he did the only thing he could. Reciprocate. Namjoon sowed his love, his desire, his need onto her, into her every night.

There were times, though, when she would feel his absence in the middle of the night and see him working in the dim light of a lamp. She knew he had to work hard to do what he wanted but she also saw he had to continually prove himself to people who weren’t even paying attention. The reason they weren’t paying attention was painfully clear to Brishti but she was yet to experience it’s full stab.

Namjoon wanted to shield her from it. He was counting on an armour that didn’t exist anymore to protect himself and his wife… the reason he liked his life again. Whenever she came out and switched on a brighter light, reprimanding him for straining his gorgeous eyes, he saw that it did prick her - this world and the unfairness he had to endure. She would say something small, an almost-complaint that alerted him… against her for some strange reason. She would say something that would be easy to ignore and yet would prick him, like - “I don’t know why they haven’t promoted you yet.” or “Why haven’t they taken up Jimin’s case yet? You’ve worked so hard on it.” Everytime she did that, he would have to pacify himself.

‘I’ve told her so much about the Jimin case… she’s just really invested’ Namjoon thought to himself. Just so he would avoid thinking, ‘I shouldn’t have told her.’

He would have to calm himself, give her a peck and try to convince her to stop worrying. “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” Namjoon would always say.

Then, Brishti smiled as she always did. While trying to understand why that sentence bothered her so much. After almost five months of exploring this wonderful man, some part of him still felt unfamiliar… like it didn’t fit in with the rest. Still, these things take time, she had heard from so many women over the years. Besides, she was blessed with a man far far above the norms. So, how could she prod? These are things Brishti had told herself - until the night she couldn’t stay silent.

The couple was coming up on their fifth month together and Park Jimin had gifted Namjoon a ticket to the final show of the season as a token of gratitude, for having heard his story.

Brishti was nervous about going to this kind of a gathering and had told her husband to meet her there.

She had enlisted the help of Sayuri-san to look appropriate for the event. Her slightly longer hair was clipped and her eyes were kohled. She wore a burgundy knee length fringe-ended dress that she had received from her gracious host, stylist and make-up artist - an inheritance of her brilliant life tucked into the black pearl beading and deco design. It was a big departure from the usual tie-die or band tees and jeans with her baggy coat. She had carried the coat but felt this strange sort of compulsion to stand in the cold air in the noodle strap dress, for him to see her.

She felt butterflies in her stomach and kept fiddling with the coat she had draped over her arm. It was electric when she saw him.

Namjoon looked gorgeous in a tux. All of Brishti’s nerves were soothed just by looking at him. He had brushed his hair back. Tall and dashing - better than any heathcliffe could ever be. And with his reading glasses, he looked like the lead of a romance novella that would make all the women swoon. Indeed she was swooning. Brishti was suddenly warm in the chilly, windy night. And when Namjoon saw her, blood rushed to her cheeks. Everything inside her was running helter skelter in a panic. Brishti felt everything drop in the few moments it took for Namjoon to reach the top of the stairs. Dolled up like this, outside of her element, she felt like an imposter. Some angel needed to be standing in her place. For the first time, feigning beauty, Brishti felt like she wasn’t worthy of her husband.

She was finally able to keep her feelings aside when he reached her.

Namjoon kissed her palm like a gentleman and whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home… I need a private kind of dance…” Brishti blushed. Namjoon put his arm around her and felt the chill that had settled on her skin. “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you wear the coat?” Namjoon asked. Brishti just shook her head no and the two of them walked in.

Brishti assumed that the ballet would be a welcome distraction from the storm that brewed within her. She had read up about the show, the piece they were going to perform -

Tchaikovsky’s venerated Swan Lake. The story of a young girl who falls in love with a prince who promises to save her but fails. Ofcourse there were finer nuances to the story but this was the basic plot. As the lights dimmed, Brishti felt pulled in by the music, the eerie beauty of it’s melody played in perfectly with the questions that were swirling around in Brishti’s mind -

Why do I feel wrong?

Is this what Yoongi was talking about? Anxiety…?

Why does Namjoon look so... different?

Why is he so quiet, so… distant…It’s like he’s keeping himself away from me despite being right next to me, arm in arm, like the true Namjoon is somewhere in a glass case? Deep deep beneath whatever this creature is who is next to me?

I’m thinking too much. No. What is this? Why am I feeling this way?

It’s the music… no its not just the music… something is fucking wrong because all I feel like doing is breaking that glass case that’s locked away My Namjoon and presented this fucking imposter. What the hell is going on?!

Brishti barely managed to keep it together. She kept her eyes on stage…

It was like seeing a moving painting being created by invisible hands and the music was the sound of the brushstrokes, amplified. Park Jimin was playing Rothbart, the owl-like magician who curses Odette into a swan until she finds someone who would promise to love her forever. The questions in her mind and the power of the spectacle before her forced her tears to keep flowing.

Namjoon saw Brishti cry and held on to her. But the more he tried to comfort her, the more uneasy she became, the more she coudln’t contain the tears in her eyes.

The curtain fell at the end of Act three when the prince realises he has been tricked. Brishti, somehow, mirrored his grief. The prince was cheated by Rothbart into believing that his daughter, Odile, was Odette. Rothbart relished his plan so despicably it made Brishti’s stomach turn. The prince had already declared to the ballroom full of people his vow to love and marry the maiden by his side - Odile, not Odette. Park Jimin played Rothbart so skillfully, so beautifully that despite being the villain, despite being covered from head to toe, he was the star. Rothbart giggled delightfully as he revealed to the prince that the girl in his arms wasn’t Odette at all. That Odette was waiting for her prince by the lake. The curtain fell as the prince felt the stab of betrayal and rushed to Odette.

Brishti rushed to where she did not know. She wanted to get away from Namjoon, from this feeling that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain. She was angry. She wanted to break something. Tears still flowing down her face, she found a corner that was hidden away in darkness. She went in. Brishti sat on the couch there, for what seemed like eternity, breathing heavily. Nothing made sense. It felt like her insides were twisting into each other. Suddenly, though, a door creaked open and out came an angel. A man, glowing, having just freshened up. He saw her, saw her fear and instead of pulling back in shock, approached with a strange kindness. He held her wrist and stayed silent for a moment.

His beauty was also a kindness to her. In that moment, Brishti could breathe a little bit better. He sat down by her knees, on the floor and when he spoke, his voice flowed like a tonic, “First time at the ballet? It’s overwhelming… I know. You’re okay. You are safe. Rothbart is not here. Talk to me… what are you feeling?”

The tears kept flowing. This man was different, she knew he understood what she was feeling like. She felt safe, but not as if she was with a saviour, rather as though she was with another victim.

“What are you feeling…” Park Jimin repeated. The pieces were falling into place in her head. This is Park Jimin, the man who danced as Rothbart. The man who should have danced the Prince. Who should have played Odette and Odile.

“I feel… rage.” Brishti trembled as she spoke. She could breathe again.

“Yes… Rothbart is… evil… I’m sorry-”

Brishti nodded her head no. “At the prince.”

Jimin was surprised. “Let it out. You can scream in here and no one would know.”

Brishti didn’t need another invitation, but her rage wasn’t a scream, it was a whisper - “I want to hit the prince. How could he not now? He couldn’t see that that girl was not Odette? Is he blind? The way she moved, the way she danced… which only means… it means that the prince knew… somewhere he felt doubt but he… He couldn’t fucking trust himself enough?! I don’t know why this is breaking my heart… Why can’t people trust in themselves?! It’s a pathetic fucking excuse and I can’t buy it… I just can’t. Why did the prince...” Her hands covered her face as she wiped her tears. She composed herself.

Jimin pulled out a kerchief. “May I?” Brishti nodded and he dabbed her face with care.

“The prince trusted his sight more than his soul. And now, Odette will die because of it. As always, the woman pays the price.”

“He dies too, you know.”

“What a waste…”

Jimin smiled, “Thank you… for watching the show, for feeling it so much.”

Brishti managed a weak smile, “Thank you.” Jimin stepped away and sat next to her, at a respectable distance. “I’m being lied to.”

Jimin nodded, “I know what that’s like. I feel that rage against the prince too. And still, we must be kind to our liars.”

Brishti clenched her teeth, “Why? Where’s the fairness in that?”

Jimin moves away, in a dejected kind of daze and pours himself a drink, “That’s the biggest lie, fairness. Cruel joke.”

Brishti walked toward the door. “I should go… Thank you.”

Jimin raised his glass to her.

Brishti wore her coat and walked toward the exit. She found Namjoon in a panic and suddenly felt like she could reach him. He looked so relieved to see her. She couldn’t help but feel awash with love as he crashed into her in the warmest hug. It was as if he was the one who was lost.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying?” Namjoon asked her as he stroked her head and held her in the hug for as long as she needed.

“I need to ask you something.” Brishti whispered as she pulled away. They began walking down the stairs of the theatre.

“Änything.” Namjoon replied.

“Your firm… they refused the Jimin case, right?”

Namjoon froze. His jaw locked up. “Let’s go home.”

The rest of the way, neither of them spoke a word. They entered their home in a cold silence. They washed the night off themselves and entered their bedroom, which was completely devoid of the heat and desire that usually filled it right up to the ceiling. What used to feel like an ocean, now felt like a vacuum.

When Namjoon walked in, Brishti reminded him, as kindly as she could,“I said I need to ask you something. You said, ‘anything’.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it.” Namjoon was cold again. Unfeeling. Unreachable.

Brishti tried her best to be calm… “When would you want to talk about it?”

Namjoon breathed in - “Why? Am I answerable to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we disagree. I don’t think I am answerable to you. What would you have done if I wouldn’t have told you about it in the first place?”

“I would still be feeling what I’m feeling… I would be even more furious though.”

“Fu- why would you be furious? I have to work there, I lost the account. I’m feeling hurt and disappointed in myself and instead of helping me, you’re angry?! What the hell could you be angry at?!”

“I’m being lied to. I’m being tricked.”

“What?!” the contempt on Namjoon’s face made her head throb. He was angry now.

“There are two Namjoons here. I’m being told there’s only one and--”

“That is some philosophical trash that you learned from one of your books. Real life doesn’t work that way. But how would you know?! You don’t have a real job. You have a hobby. A hobby of stacking books in order. You’re just plain lucky that someone is paying you for your hobby. That’s not a job. You of all people cannot tell me about the things I have to do to keep my job. I have tried my best to be as honest as I can be--”

“As honest as you can --”

“Listen to me!” Namjoon thundered. His loud voice might as well have been a punch. It rang through her body and rattled her bones. She had tears in her eyes but clenched them down as Namjoon continued yelling, “Enough… enough with the fucking tears. What the fuck are you so sad about?! I don’t need you to pity me. I don’t need anyone to feel sad for me. I have tried to be a good man - do you even know how much other men don’t even mention to their wives?! I told you everything. EVERYTHING. And now I’m being punished for it. Time and time again I tried to console you… even though I was the one hurting… I tried to be there for you and tell you… as long as I have --”

Brishti couldn’t take it anymore “Don’t. Say that.” She didn’t yell. Her voice was just above a whisper and yet it sent a chill down Namjoon’s spine. She wiped her tears. “I didn’t ask to be consoled. I was just… curious. If a few questions from me hurt so much maybe you should ask yourself why. I’m not lucky that someone decided to pay me for my hobby. It’s nice to know what you really think of my job. But whatever you think, I created my job. I created my life. I fought to come to london. I fought for the right to earn--”

“Oh please... spare me the feminist lecture...” scoffed Namjoon.

“Sure. Take up Jimin’s case.”

Namjoon felt the burn of white hot rage. He wanted to strangle her. He was so used to touching her… and she was his… in this bedroom, he had made her his. He wasn’t thinking. Namjoon strode toward her and held one massive palm over her mouth and the other on her neck and pinned her to the wall. “YOU WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THAT IF I DIDN’T TELL YOU.”

It took him a few moments to realise what he was doing. Brishti was shocked and tried to scream but no voice came out. She was trying to get him out of his daze when he finally saw her, saw his Rim, horrified… by him. Namjoon pulled his hands back instantly. He saw a red bruise bloom where his hands were - on her face and on her neck.

“This is how you make your conscience shut up?” Brishti’s voice was hoarse. “You think this has nothing to do with your conscience? With the best part of you? The part that you made me fall in love with? Are you really telling me you don’t know that this is why you can’t write the way you used to… You’re killing my Joon and asking me to stay silent. I can’t.”

The searing anger still hadn’t died and it burst out of him, “Why are we fighting like this… over Jimin… why don’t you take up his case if you fucking love him so much?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

“You… Why are you fighting for him against me?!” It was here that Namjoon realised his armour was gone. The idea of who he is... suddenly vanished. And the one thing that had made him feel safe, like his true self, was slipping away. “You’re saying… just tell me… you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Brishti did him the only kindness she had left in her, she explained, “Jimin wants to leave but can’t. He stays because he needs to dance. He stays because he cannot get out of his contract. You say you want to help people like Jimin, you roll your eyes at white people who can’t pronounce our names, you feel guilty for asians who have much less than we do… but then you also don’t raise an issue when your boss holds meetings in clubs where people of other races and dogs and women are not allowed. You work overtime for the privilege of weekends… You say you are trying but… as far as I know… you don’t have a non-compete clause in your contract, Namjoon.”

That hit him like an iceberg. Namjoon’s legs gave way and he just sat on the bed.

He watched as Brishti put on her coat and left, covering her bruises with a scarf.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 6 - to be posted.

#bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon #forever rain #fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon arranged marriage #namjoon x oc #arranged marriage #slow burn #slow burn fic #fluff fic #bts fanfic #bts #indian oc #red thread fics

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x0401x · 4 years

Text

Pash! August 2014: Mekakucity Actors Ending Explained

(Commissioned by the lovely @sodasexual. Translated from this post.)

Summer goes by. The “afterwards” of these boys and girls.

On a hot summer day, despite each of them carrying their own share of problems, the Mekakushi-dan fought on, earning themselves an “afterwards”. Let’s take a look back on their actions in order to find out what the future they reached was like!

Blindfold Complete: Shintarou & Ayano

“Remembering” the past and walking on.

With a picture of Ayano as the trigger, Shintarou reminisced to memories of the Mekakushi-dan from a “different world”. In order to avoid the tragedy awaiting the Mekakushi-dan, Shintarou ripped his own throat with a pair of scissors, thus acquiring his Ability. After remembering everything through the Ability and summoning Ayano back from the “world beyond”, Shintarou became invincible! Everyone from the Mekakushi-dan used their Abilities together and defeated the snake!!

“My memories of everything... They were all for this.”

↑ Shintarou conveys the recalled “memories of every world” to Mary through Ayano’s “warm power, the Favoring Eyes”. As long as the two of them are together, as long as the Mekakushi-dan exists, they fear nothing!

“I sure took my sweet time, huh.”

↑ “Your days of fighting by yourself are over.” Tears overflow from Ayano’s eyes at Shintarou’s words. This is the moment she had always been waiting for.

“Let’s go together.”

→ Having obtained his Ability, Shintarou reunites with Ayano in the “world beyond”. He finally showed his cool side!

“Wah, wah, wah—sorry!”

↑ A peaceful summer day finally arrived. Ayano and Shintarou were alone together, but by the moment that they’re on their own, they get flustered!? It seems there’s still some time to go for their lighthearted romance to develop.

Blindfold Complete: Mary

“I’m not alone. I have friends, after all.”

Due to the Abilities gathering up to her, the Queen, everyone around her would die – Mary used to be overcome with fear, but now, she has friends in the Mekakushi-dan! Encouraged by her companions, and by learning about the past through Shintarou and Ayano’s powers, Mary succeeded in taking control of all the Abilities! Having turned into a Medusa, Mary pulled everyone into the “world beyond”, granted Kenjirou’s wish and destroyed the snake’s plans!

“I want to have fun with everybody one more time.”

↑ This girl who narrates things as if it were a fairy tale and lost all her friends is Mary. Tempted by the snake with an “I shall make your wish come true”, she had been resetting the world on repeat.

“You’re the one who called for me, right?”

→ The truth was that she hated being alone. Seto, who read these thoughts of Mary’s and brought her outside, is a big existence to her.

“He’s my friend!”

↓ Mary cheerfully introduces Konoha to the Dan members. She was able to become stronger after making many friends!

“Yep... I’m super happy.”

→ Mary absorbed everyone into the “world beyond”. Having taken back all of the Abilities and turned into a Medusa, her power was enormous. What she wished for in this form was a “very happy world”!

Blindfold Complete: Kido, Kano & Seto

Restored family bonds.

Kano was actually being threatened by the snake, who used his family’s lives as a shield, and was forced to obey him. Unable to reveal this secret to anyone, Kano had been suffering behind his carefree façade, and so, unable to endure the fact that Ayano was being forgotten, his emotions finally exploded. Seto and Kido accepted these feelings of Kano, who had been unable to take a single step forward out of fear of losing his family.

“STOP! NEE-CHAN!”

→ He screams at Ayano as she jumps off. Having already lost his mother, after losing Ayano right before his eyes, Kano is in a state of panic.

“Sooner or later, we’re all gonna get killed...”

↑ Still suffering even now, Kano can’t handle the fact that Ayano’s death will become something of the past. Unable to suppress his emotions, he lets the tears flow...

“Let’s shoulder this together. We’re siblings, after all.”

↑ Seto firmly embraced Kano, who was unable to move amidst his despair. He even went as far as using the Ability he hates in order to read Kano’s thoughts.

“Burdening yourself on your own is against the rules.”

↑ Kano is punished with cleaning the bathtub for keeping secrets from his family. They forgave him like this even though he had been quiet about the enemy’s intentions, because they’re family! Kano is also well-aware of that.

Blindfold Complete: Takane & Haruka

The reunion after sunset.

In order to increase the number of Ability users, Takane and Haruka, whose bodies were transformed into Ene and Konoha, also regained their bodies and finally went back to their original forms! Takane had also attained the special Ability to live in a virtual world as Ene. Now that they have reunited, it’s unknown whether or not Takane was properly able to convey what she wanted to tell Haruka on the day that they were separated. But she should surely be able to say it one day!

“Is that me...?”

← In the school, she discovered her and Haruka’s bodies! Ever since she had awoken her powers by Kenjirou’s hands, her body had remained intact?

“Why’re you making a convalescent like me run so much!?”

→ Returning to her original body, Takane became able to move around in her real self! And so, her bullish and impatient personality also went completely back to normal!?

“I want to keep our promise.”

↑ As Kenjirou’s wish was fulfilled through him being taken to the “world beyond”, the snake, about to disappear, sought for a new “wish”. As he did so, the other Haruka-Konoha made a wish to the snake about the promise of “saving everyone” that they had made with Hibiya!

Blindfold Complete: Momo

Having fun like a normal girl.

The Momo of the past couldn’t even freely go shopping like an ordinary girl because of her Ability. But now that she has met the Mekakushi-dan and became able to control her Ability, she’s all right. From now on, life as normal girl, where she will take a long time to get ready when going out, is waiting for her!

“I was thinking about singing a little bit.”

← Her Ability opens up fully, enough to engulf the whole city! The power of the Snatching Eyes once made her suffer, but now it has turned into everyone’s strength.

Blindfold Complete: Hibiya & Hiyori

Taking you back.

When they opened their eyes, they were in a mysterious world – thinking back on it now, the place that Hibiya and Hiyori were swallowed into was the “world beyond”. Hibiya is still a small child, but thanks to his clairvoyant-like Ability to see through everything, he was able to locate the snake’s whereabouts. It was not made clear whether they managed to rescue Hiyori from there or not, but since she can be seen in the last scene... his wish came true, right?

“I’ll do this!”

↑ Knowing no way to rescue Hiyori, Hibiya was once disheartened about it. However, cheered up by Momo’s song, he regained his spirit!

“We’ll definitely save you.”

↓ Despite her coldly scolding him and leading him around by the nose, Hibiya adores Hiyori. Her appearance in the last scene definitely means a happy ending!

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