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yatorihell · 5 months

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Noragami Reread Volume 22-27

I've finally reached the end of my reread. I am reading the final chapter tonight, and I haven't seen a single spoiler for the cover nor ending. This is going to be crisp.

Vol 22

Nora trying to keep up with Father walking away knowing she's being abandoned

Yato realising he abandoned Yukine like yes the mommy issues are now here

Yukine partying and living it up like he did when he first got named, but now he's more self aware

Remember when Yukine started become an ayakashi and then

'Your god is not your dad' Nora projecting the abandonment but yh she's right

Nora with the 'please say my name' I hate this

Takemika is ripped fuck damn bitch

Kofuku figured out Yato's plan to kill Father

Ojkjbj Takemika spins Ebisu to divine the Sorcerer's location

Oh the seahorse he buried is called Takemika how cute

Adult Yukine vision like we didn't need the reminder he won't grow up

I WANTED TO GROW UP

Hagusa is born and its a bad time for like a year

Oh Father's so evil (he is hugging Yukine) and he's going to the house

Yato can't believe Yukine is stray bitch same

Nora seems to have turned a corner with Father leaving her (this lasts like 10 chapters)

'Can I even be normal again' (as of right now I have read the chapter nor been spoiled so idk!!!!)

Hiyori doesn't want to be stuck this way which is good

Nora mumbling to herself about Hiyori

Nora played pretend family because she's a good girl

Foreshadowing of Nora asking why it's easy for girls to come into the world because she never made it

Shinigami protecting Hiyori from Nora and it turns out its actually her grandpa

Grandma Iki's death and her telling Hiyori to go to the person she loves

'If you wait until he's gone it'll be too late' I hate this manga

Seeing grief affecting the family reminds Hiyori she has to come back

Plot to hide Nora's names revealed

God it was all a ploy to befriend yukine

Hiyori and Nora the unlikely friendship

Ebisu trying to throw salt on Kofuku to protect the economy nsnd

Old Ebisu talking to himself is so cute and sad when we know what he's been through

Oh we've reached the refrigerator I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

Oh they're at the old house I hate this

Yukine's been dead 35 years which was a surprise

Hiyori laying flowers on the fridge and praying

Oh he's learning who he was and the barber wouldve been his friend I'm so sad they forgot about him right when they were talking

Yukine's dad was handing out fliers to search for murdered son this plot is dastardly and I don't believe we'll get resolution because that's how the world is

Sobbing they knew there were problems and thought Yukine chose to stay

Yukine finding out his life wasn't all sunshine and not wanting to know more mood

Vol 23

Oh it's Yukine's grave and sister's house I'm so sad

'Even you've got one or two assholes you don't want to probe'

Yato thinking Yukine would want to kill his family

Yukine wanted the dogs to eat him that killed Suzuha hate!!!

Living Yukine encouraging his sister to live and run towards the future he wouldn't see

Father goading Yukine into finding his family and talking about giving him a proper burial I've had enough of this dude

Gunna throw up there's a beer can in the fridge

'Even now my father is still killing me'

Yukine's had his reverse Kaneki phase

Fuck offf with the flower Father you heartless bitch

Oh Yukine's gone baby boy he's Hagusa nke

Yato's face that Yukine is changed and the ending saying unprecedented agony fucking mood

Yukine's mother is dead reveal

'He's my hafuri'

Yato apologising and explaining immediately why he did it

Yato's hesitation to draw his sword against Yukine

We've got a catboy on our hands

Sorcerer was human and has a grave finally a plot to kill him for good

Yukine seeing his dad in Yato

Yato protecting the tree and cutting Yukine's hand because he chose that spot for Yuka to think of her brother and he's actually there

Yato laying absolutely fucked up on the grave of the boy who just did it to him

BISHAMON AWAKE

Oh Yukine doesn't even realise it was Yato he thought he hurt his dad

Hiyori's got a letter for Yuka oh we were dying to know what it said for ages

'You'll die you idiot' and Hiyori's face like I didn't believe it would happen

Hiyori death foreshadowing tracker: 7

Hiyori and Nora holding hands when they meet Yuka

Oh I'm so sad Yuka thinks Haruki is alive and had children Adachitoka you make me so sad

Yato not wanting to draw on Yukine because of his dad

Remember when we got that panel of Yuka and it had showed up in chapter 3 like 1p years ago the foreshadowing is insane

Yukine's possession of people is a good thing tbh but it goes too extreme

Once again the art is insane rip Adachitoka

Yuka has the letter ndnd

Yuka forced the divorce and the were forced to rock paper scissors to decide who would stay behind

Bishamon is kinda up I wish she did more in the final

Throwing up screaming thank you Okuninushi for blessing Yatori's plaques I can't wait to see what the effect of that is in the final chapter

Oh the return box of letters all torn up I hate this

Yukine's power just shows the good of humanity but its still flawed like humans

Ooharai begins and lasts like 25 chapters

Volume 24

Yato's back in the trashcan

Nora doesn't hate heaven but Yukine does because he cut it accidentally trying to save Yato logic

Father laughing about taking Yukine to the fridge he is the worst man

OK so Rekki can't cut the word interesting

'Daddy's just gunna have to take another one away from you' and trying to name Kazuma

Shocked pikachu face that Yato sold him out to Heaven

The expressions are really popping off

Father mentioning Yukine's dead in front if Kazuma hhfn

Yukine let Yato get away <3

'Mind full of nothing but viina just like normal'

Takemika and Ebisu the unlikely friendship to go lookinf for the grave

Yukine on a rager about finding his dad and Father hitting him here we gooo

'You're not allowed to have desires and wishes because that's what a god is'

Father back on his breaking Kazuma bullshit

'Kazuma's love is unphantomable like a bog'

Father neck cut tracker: 2

Adachitoka really got us with the earplugs for Kazuma a bit of common sense finally

'Yukine is mine, Hiyori will die someday, so why bother running from me'

Nora backstory

It's strange how an ayakashi could latch onto Nora before she was born

'I wanted someone who knows neither good nor evil'

Baby Yato and his ear necklace ft Sakura's tree??

Father is the delulu king he thinks Yato's putting on an act to save him

Oh the image of baby Yaboku fighting father sjbdbd

Father was this close to getting killed and then nothing

Takemika and Ebisu did a room of requirement finding the island tbh

Amaterasu feeling the net

'Heaven has missed things so we have to find someone to punish' logic

How did we go from Father's pinned down to back fighting

How dare Yato betray him after getting food water shelter

Oh Yukine can't look when he's told to attack Yato I hate it here

Gods are getting stuck in the net

Saving Yukine is priority over killing Father <3

Kazuma gets called Kazune and makes up a sweat song ldndb

We're so close to saving Yukine and then it gets worse

Volume 25

Oh the letter Yuka never got his letters and he's asking why she won't wrote back I'm so fucking miserable

AND IT LED TO HIS DEATH oh I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

Kazuma trying to fly to Yukine with Rekkis scarf sjdb

Oh yes we're getting Okuninushi fucking it up like I wished

Nora be like I'm not stupid he's trying to use me and then....

Ah now the gods are calling the shinki when they shouldn't

Oh Nora why did you have to go to him

Nora's just so happy to be useful again

Damn the town's really just burning

'Someone like me who's ever called her Nora doesn't have the power to call her back' hopefully Nora gets/choses a name for herself irrespective of shinkihood

Likening having a name to being given life

Fathers lost it he doesn't even want to do what he wanted he's just angry and wants to kill Amaterasu now and Nora's like no

Grave has been found and the gravekeeper family was a surprise

The Sorcerer killed someone who escaped justice and saved the gravekeeper

Lol remember when we got Father's backstory and people were trying to argue that he didn't kill the monk

I wonder if he stole the clothes off his body they're awfully similar

Nora is absolutely fucking them up go girl

Father used Heaven's systems to his advantage to name Nora, control ayakashi and create Yato

Father calling himself a necessary evil and Amaterasu clapping back that Yato is the necessary one

Amaterasu starts taking Nora's names

Father flashback to Yomi and Kaya revealed

Yukine stopping Amaterasu as she tries to release Chiki

Oh all the vents opening

Amaterasu can't take names made with the word

Yato's back in the fight let's gooo

Father does have a bit of a point to be like why do gods do this to the world

Father's finally been shot

We never really get Amaterasus story, was she reincarnated to keep young and manageable, is that just how old she grows

The living live and the dead die

Yukine's finally realised what he's done to the world

'To death do we part and in death we shall meet again' oh I'm so sad that's such a Yatori thing Adachitoka you make me so sad

Yukine's gone to Yuka oh he sees her as a young girl I'm so sad adachitoka you make me so sad

Oh this is the last time Yukine sees Hiyori before That happens I'm so sad this is awful

Their mother was absolutely spinless she just have the letters back to him and gave him money and she never heard from her son again

Oh Yukine's realised he's dead and he sees the truth and Yuka I'm so sad

Oh I'm so fucking miserable Yukine's memories and the burial and he's at the postbox and he's got the protection charm Yato and Hiyori gave him and Yato's hand reaching out and he's called him name and he's gone back to blond I'm actually so miserable this is awful

LIKE SNOW FALLING INTO YATO'S ARMS!!!!

Oh he knows he's dead I'm so fucking miserable this is the worst chapter in my opinion (so far)

Vol 26

100

Oh Hiyori can smell Yato now I'm

DID YOU BURY ME YATO

Oh I'm actually so sad this is the worst manga in the world

Kazuma still blissfully ignorant of death <3

Father's lost it again he's so mad

Bishamon shown up

Bishamon wondering where Kazuma is and that she won't forgive herself if something happened to him hsdbdb

Yat about to finish the job and Nora has to go break Kazuma

101

Oh Bishamon can feel Kazuma fading

Nora was holding back all that time hdhd

Kazuma believes he and Nora are even

It's been quite a day yeah it started with Hiyori and Nora meeting Yuka and it ends with That

Back to Father's backstory

Father saved the village from a boulder and was enshrined by the villagers who keep his grave

Takemika is just ready to destroy the grave

Oh Yuka says about visiting Haru's grave if she knows where will Hiyori even get the chance I hate this

Father I'm begging you just die Yato isn't coming back to you this wasn't a little prank

Oh Hiyori no go home

'Because I love my father'

Oh Hiyori's tail is hanging by a THREAD

Hiyori death foreshadowing tracker: 7?

102

Nora healing Hiyori's blight and sorting her body before leaving she is a good girl really

Remember when we found Hiyori couldn't go back to her body shdhf

'You're gunna be fine' my mantra until That happened in 108

Quickly flashback of baby Yato foreshadowing what's about to happen

Ebisu figuring out the gravekeeper does soul calls

Remember when we thought they were gunna kill that whole family jdbdb

Father is the queen of gaslighting himself

Father neck cut tracker: 3

The reveal that the gravekeepers family were ghosts was so good

Ebisu promising to keep going but I know that his name will never be revealed not even to us for that fourth wall content

Love how the gravekeeper just died like immediately thank you king

'I'm going to go on with them living in a world without you' please please please final chapter they get to live together (they can't <3)

Oh Yato's hand is small in Yukine's he's ready to reincarnate

103

Oh Kazuma is remembering

Oh we were so pressed that he said he could go home and he vanished but its because he's gone back to Bishamon I'm so sad

DISAPPEARING WITHOUT A TRACE WOULD BE A FITTING END FOR ME this is the worst I'm so sad this is awful I hate foreshadowing

It's just endless isn't it Father with 5000 lifelines

Back to Father's backstory ie how he got killed over rice and then rejected dkndn

Oh he made a mask that looked like her

Father likening Kaya to paradise in death

Oh I'm so fucking miserable Kazuma returns to Bishamon and asks if he's in Heaven this is peak romance

'Can you just shut up and die already' fucking mood

Father with the two lifelines like just die

Vol 27

104

We are shook that Father's original form has appeared

Poor Fujisaki's gunna feel so hungover been possessed by that musty bitch for like 16 years(?)

Oh he called Nora a dumpster baby now its personal

Oh Yomi powers we've got the final form and new nation

Shiiho calling Arahabaki dad <3

Oh Okuninushi and the reincarnated gods I'm so sad

Hiyori is in the nation and the Sakura tree is there I hate this I wanna stop

Oh he's put Yato and Nora in their weakest forms I hate him die die die

Oh Nora has completely given up same

And now it's world domination some men just need therapy tbh

It's interesting that all the sacrifices of the real world are apparently in the new nation and Father really thought he'd find Kaya alive in there djbdbd

People say he's a good dad and I agree <3 (he is attempting deicide)

This is the worst manga in the world the fridge is full of sakura blossoms and Yukine is coming to save Yato and now he's a fucking ayakashi dog he's fully evolved into a furry

105

If you told me this was the final boss fight when I joined this manga I'd be like how the hell did we get here

Now we've got the human possession

I wonder if the people who were killed will come back or if the gods just had to kill them for real

The gods telling their shinki they have to kill and like this is a fucked up situation but it needs to be controlled ig

Nora beginning to question Father and what he does and realising she's scared of him and she's been a pawn

So Sekki is able to break the barrier

106

Oh Hiyori you're looking rough

Oh Yukine is disintegrating help

It's strange how we never get an inkling he's looking for Kaya and this new nation, it was about culls and removing the gods not finding her

Amaterasu really doesn't interfere she just watches or sometimes gets involved

How is it that the shinki can be seen by the near shore now its still the true world

Father be like I've returned from the dead and I scare you why don't you love me you were crying

Someone says divine punishment and immediately Father is like the gods did this specifically like he didn't play a part in her death

Father bitches that forgiveness is for the weak but thinks Kaya would forgive him

Father says he couldn't do anything but the belief system back then meant that he could be recalled after death did he even try?

Daikoku refusing to kill that child like a normal person

'He's been seeking something his whole life just like me' and there's the shrine and Yukine

We fr thought we'd found Kaya lol I mean I guess we did but Father thought she'd be normal and not like the others he called sacrifices

Oh he's so sad it's giving Pedro Pascal (I think I said that when it came out and I was shot)

Screaming throwing up Yato knows Hiyori is here

Oh I'm so fucking miserable 'we shall meet again those words have come full circle' I gate this life

For a brief shining moment I thought it was a trick and the real Hiyori was elsewhere but then SOMEONE had to go and do THAT

LET'S GO HOME

Oh I'm actually so fucking sad Yato's voiceover saying its his fault he wouldn't fix her problem with the flashbacks and then Sakura's words about you can never see them again when they die Adachitoka you're the worst

Kiun seeing sense and letting the young lesd because times have changed

Kofuku calling Daikoku's actions irrational like he's just not only locked him in a phone box for a bit instead of killing him

I wonder who summoned all the shinki though because how are Kuzuha and Kuruha helping with containment, Bishamon's not around

Takemika saying that Amaterasu may never change

'Why would you do that to her' because he's a bitch!!!!!!!

Oh I hate this manga Father's trying to name Hiyori and he pulls her head back and the light is gone fron her eyes and there's a tear and I'm ending it after tbe final chapter

Oh he's naming her I hate my life Yukine's nearly gone too

All this time all the warnings we never believed we'd get this

Oh its all her memories and one page is just Yato and he's thanking her for the shrine I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad why did you do this

Oh the shattered image if Hiyori like reflections of my life

FINAL FATHER NECK CUT TRACKER: 4

OK so theory is that because Hiyori was a shinki made within the nation of the word, she was able to destroy it?

Also if the brush is gone then Chiki and Yuuki should be gone

108

Yukine's back oh I'm so sad

Oh I'm so fucking miserable Hiyori looks so innocent and Yukine nearly says her name but Nora stops him and then Yato nearly says her name and then he realises he can't and then he screams and so do I

Father die challenge?????? Stfu

Yukine furry form is here to stay ig I wish he mauled Father a bit but he found her body!!!!!

Yato saying be can't handle a world without Hiyori but he can't destroy it like his dad would

Oh I'm so sad 'this world she protected is the grave where she sleeps' worst manga ever

'You can make miracles happens can't you'

DON'T GIVE UP YET

Remember when we thought Yato was looking up to Amaterasu for help lol

Kazubisha having a quick catch up

Now is not the time but Yato looks good jdhdb

Hiyori just not got a clue whats happening

Father's still being a little bitch

The fact he has no lifelines like when did Yato cuts Fujisaki's ties???

Nora finally standing up to Father

Father has drowned, ignored by his children <3<3<3<3<3<3<3 my heart is so full

Oh I'm so sad they've been there so long there's snow on their heads and Yukine is crying and I hate it

But that also means they keep Hiyori clear of snow to keep her warm I hate it here!!!

Yato disappearing because everyone who knew him was dead and he breathed Hiyori back to life and saved her (and himself I'm maifesting)

Oh now they're both crying for Yato and Yukine's hugging him this is the worst day ever

I'LL GIVE YOU ALL THAT I AM

Oh this really is the worst day ever the final kiss of life and HIS TEAR IS ON HER FACE WHEN SHE WAKES UP

Oh she nearly says his name I'm so sad how is this going to end there is so much to unpack in this manga

#noragami aragoto #hiyori #noragami #bishamon #kazubisha #kazuma #daikoku #kofuku #daifuku #yukine #yato #yatori #goodbyenoragami

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yujo-nishimura · 5 months

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The Rescue

Comment: We had the escape, now comes the rescue. ;) This is another idea I had with original characters, please bear with me since I will soon write something again with 2nd person..

Warning: Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC, a little bit of angst and fear, violence since it is the great pirate era...

Words: 699

Today marked the long-awaited day for Yujo, and she felt a sense of relief as the anticipation finally came to an end. The previous night, she had made peace with her life, spending hours in prayer and expressing gratitude to the spiritual forces that had both treated her well and inflicted hardship upon her. She had no name for the things she believed in, but she knew that something had always been around her. Thoughts of her parents and siblings crossed her mind, though she was uncertain of their current fate. Nevertheless, she included them in her prayers, holding onto the hope that they might still be alive.

Now, in the cold and damp cellar, the gentle rays of sunlight streamed through the prison bars. It wouldn't be long before the guards arrived to escort her. Helga sat beside Yujo, her desperation palpable, yet she had stopped weeping. When Yujo had encouraged her last night to pray for her own family, Helga responded with disdain, spitting on the ground. "For someone who treated me like garbage in the past, I won't even utter a curse word," she had exclaimed in anguish, before curling up and softly sobbing. Yujo chose not to offer comfort to her friend at that moment, allowing her to experience the full range of emotions she was feeling.

Now, in her despair, Helga remained silent. She had resigned herself to leaving this world, yet she couldn't help but feel anger at the lack of control she had over the timing and circumstances of her final breath.

Indeed, it was the day of their execution. During a devastating raid, the marines captured the entire crew, with many of them already meeting their death through execution. Helga and Yujo, the only women aboard the ship, remained as the last two members, their lives spared until the very end. This was due to the marine judge's womanizing tendencies, as he attempted to trade their lives by selling them as slaves to celestial dragons. Faced with the choice between serving as slaves in the households of celestial dragons on Sabaody Island or facing the death penalty, both Helga and Yujo resolutely opted for the latter without a moment's hesitation.

"There is nothing more disgraceful for a pirate than to die without honor!" Helga declared at the time.

"I would rather endure torture than grovel before a celestial dragon!" Yujo vehemently responded.

And so, their fate was sealed on that fateful day.

"Yujo?" Helga's voice broke the silence, her red hair framing her face as she looked up at her friend who stood basking in the rays of the pouring sunshine. "Is there someone you would like to see again before we meet our end?"

Yujo was taken aback by the question, her voice hesitant as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean... I used to serve under Captain Buggy for a while when I was younger. Do you remember?" Helga's face turned a shade of red, and she playfully twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "I would love to see him once more, just one last time."

Yujo remained silent, her gaze fixed on her friend, who now appeared vulnerable, burdened by the weight of the world. She let out a sigh.

"There's no one like that for me. I've made peace with this world," she replied curtly, turning her face towards the stone wall of the prison. Memories flickered in her mind of her time in the revolutionary army, fighting alongside Emporio Ivankov, and encountering a tall, handsome man with a scarred face and the ability to turn everything into sand. She had vowed to herself never to become sentimental over a man again.

"I value our friendship above all else," Yujo whispered softly, a smile gracing her lips as she looked at Helga.

At that moment, the sound of echoing footsteps reverberated through the damp cell walls as the guards descended the stairs. Helga swiftly stood up, her face contorted with anger, while Yujo's breath quickened, a wave of fear washing over her as she contemplated what awaited them.

"Prisoners, prepare yourselves for your execution!" the guards commanded, their words hanging heavy in the air.

#yujowriting #onepiece anime #one piece x oc #friends on tumblr

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yhwhrulz · 2 months

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Worthy Brief - March 19, 2024

He makes intercession for us!

Hebrews 7:25-26 Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them. For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.

Romans 8:26-27 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

One of the most important aspects of prayer is understanding how God Himself is interceding for us in ways we cannot fathom or comprehend. While Yeshua’s (Jesus) atonement was completed on the cross 2000 years ago, His continuing work of intercession rests soundly on the basis of it. He now lives … to make intercession for us! As our Lord is the same yesterday, today and forever [Hebrews 13:8], He is “faithful and true” and will always intercede according to the Father's will, both in personal, individual matters, and also as we take up battles in prayer for others, including every arena of spiritual warfare.

In this light, our opportunity in prayer is simply to "show up" for it. This can be a real relief for many, who might say or think, "I'd like to be more involved in prayer, but I just don't know how or what to pray." The passage in Romans 8, above, is such an encouragement. The Lord has already acknowledged our ignorance and helplessness in prayer, "For we do not know what to pray as we ought…"

But if we resolve to simply "show up" as His volunteers [Psalm 110:3], He will immediately "show up" to help us and to inspire and even interpret the prayers His Spirit in us prays, even with "groanings too deep for words". You see, we don't even need words to know how to pray.

Prayer may be the most multi-faceted spiritual activity, since it can find expression in virtually every realm of human existence. It is praise, counsel, cries for help, desperation, vindication, deep love, compassion, rescue, comfort, appreciation, gratitude, confession, sorrow, grief, groaning, intercession, intense joy, etc.etc.etc. There is and never will be a limit to the possibilities of prayer. This is why Paul unhesitatingly encourages believers to "pray without ceasing".

DOn’t worry about saying the “perfect prayer” or having the “perfect words” … just "show up" with your faith and resolution to commune with God's Spirit in prayer. If you persevere in this, casting away every vain thought, determined to connect with Him, pour out your heart, express your cares and concerns, fight your battles, you'll discover a depth of relationship with God which you've always longed for, and be piling up treasure with and for Yeshua.

Your family in the Lord with much agape love,

George, Baht Rivka, Obadiah and Elianna (Dallas, TX) (Melbourne, Florida)

Editor's Note: We posted 3 new videos on YouTube -- Is there a Great Harvest Coming? - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVpm0xY8fJg&feature=youtu.be | The Simchat Torah War - Is this a Water Breaking Moment of Revival? - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yne7SqMfNj0&feature=youtu.be | Eclipses, Red Heifers, Purim and a Move of God! - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2xI7iatz6Vk&feature=youtu.be

Editor's Note: During this war, we have been live blogging throughout the day -- sometimes minute by minute on our Telegram channel. - https://t.me/worthywatch/ Be sure to check it out!

Editor's Note: We are planning our summer Tour so if you would like us to minister at your congregation, home fellowship, or Israel focused event, be sure to let us know ASAP. You can send an email to george [ @ ] worthyministries.com for more information.

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cimlovesyou · 4 months

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DNA 1-24-2024: Got Motivation?

This DNA gathering presented the question "how do we place God in our motivation?" or "how do we use our faith to power our motivation?"

Whether you made New Year's resolutions or you’re just trying to improve yourself in some way, for many of us, there always seems to be something that gets in our way. Oftentimes, it’s us!

Why do we struggle with motivation, especially for those of us as Christians? We know what’s good for us, but we keep pushing the good off for later… Or never in some cases.

That “why” might be different for each individual, but the “what” that will help us get out of that funk, is essentially the same. If we insert our faith as the key ingredient to our motivation, we might understand the help we need.

As Christian we understand that we are here with purpose. Our lives are meant for more than just day to day living. We aren’t “basic creatures”. Even our pain has purpose. And that purpose isn’t a one and done deal, then you die. Our lives are FILLED with purpose, living breathing purpose.

Have you ever wondered where God will use you? This is where we find our motivation. Follow me as I attempt to break this down.

It’s the “little” moments that get us to the big moments.

Picture these scenarios with me, if you will.

Finances: You want to manage your money better. You’re living paycheck to paycheck or simply thinking “I can do so much better than this.”

God ➡ Purpose ➡ Motivation

You want to manage your money better. You develop a plan and budget and put it into action. Five months later your budget is working and you actually have a decent financial cushion.

You run into a family in need and instead of thinking “I really wish I could help, but I’m barely getting by myself”, you’re freely able to act as God’s servant and provide a blessing for that family.

Health: You want to get in better shape and become healthier. You’re struggling with your weight and you just feel awful. Your discomfort makes leaving your comfort zones nearly impossible.

God ➡ Purpose ➡ Motivation

You want to get in better shape and become healthier. You get into a workout routine and start to practice healthy diet choices. You start to notice overall physical improvement and you feel great!

You’re feeling lighter, happier, healthier and ready to take on whatever comes your way. You feel encouraged to pursue the career you’ve been praying about. God proceeds to use you greatly in said career.

Addiction: You have this horrible addiction and you want to take back control. You know it’s not right and it fills you with insecurity and perhaps shame. You want it to stop, it needs to stop; it just has such a tight grip on you.

God ➡ Purpose ➡ Motivation

You have this horrible addiction and you want to take back control. You decide to look into finding help and join a support group. You start taking responsibility and find ways to hold yourself accountable.

You’re 15 months free from addiction and you meet the person who becomes your partner in life. Even though they accept you and your past, you have zero worries that you might hurt them down the line. You and your partner go on to serve God in ways you couldn’t imagine had you stayed enslaved to addiction.

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However you shake it, when we keep in mind that our goals aren’t just casual achievements and changes, but rather purpose-lead, motivation gets a bit of a boost. It’s having that mindset of “I’m going to do better so that I am better prepared to serve the Lord.” That's not saying God can’t use you where you are, but why not give yourself a leg up, if you can? Sometimes we have to be in the right place for blessings to happen.

Having this mindset isn’t going to make the work 1000% easier, but it will change how you look at motivation.

Perhaps it’s time to ask yourself this. What motivates you?

#christian living #DNA #life #motivation #thoughts #health and wellness #finances #Divine #truth #Nurturing #relationships #Apostolic #mission #bible study

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stonewallsposts · 5 months

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Philippians 3:12

One of the recent sermons featured Philippians 3:12 "but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me". Since we often make resolutions for the new year, why not make this a resolution- take hold of that for which Jesus took hold of me. He encouraged us by saying that since God has taken hold of my life for a purpose, I'm going to make my purpose to take hold of His purpose. That's the sweet spot for Christian living.

The frustrating spot is trying to get God on my program. "God... it's not working... I'm praying... this is a good thing... God you need to be doing this thing.... why isn't it working out..."

Trying to recruit God to our plan is frustrating. When we try this, we have it exactly backwards- essentially telling God to take hold of the things for which we took hold of Him.

I have to admit to having done this. It's painful to admit, but painful isn't the point, true is the point. Focusing my efforts on trying to eliminate the pain without regard to whether or not I'm living something that's true or false is just trying to treat the symptom, not the problem. I'm engaged in trying to fix this right now. But to be perfectly honest with myself, I was just unwilling to submit to the Lord in certain areas. As such, it has been a hindrance to my spiritual life... particularly my prayer life. I could try and ignore those areas for a short time, and pray around them, but after a certain point, the Lord would just come back and be like: so... what? You're just going to ignore what I'm saying and then expect me to start answering your prayers? It doesn't work like that. You need to deal with these issues and then we'll go from there.

I was particularly struck by some recent messages from James that challenged me:

"If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. 6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. 8 Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do."

God will give, but if you doubt, you should not expect to receive ANYthing from the Lord. That hit home. I say I trust in God, but when He tells me to do something, and I say- ' No, I don't want to do that because I think I won't like it very much! ', then clearly, I do NOT trust Him. I, in fact, DOUBT Him, and at that point, what makes me any different from a non-believer? As it was pointed out.... perhaps I should expect to receive nothing from Him... and maybe that even means salvation. After all, our faith is tested, and if I fail the test of faith, then it's proving I don't have faith. And it is by faith we are saved....

I don't know if this is a conflation, but I decided I didn't want to find out. Temporary lapses are one thing, but I was starting to build a habit.... and a lifestyle... of disobedience. The Lord had consistently warned me... and I knew it... and I kept ignoring Him.

But all you can do is start from where you are. So I'm trying to make the requisite changes and listen to the Lord. It's a new year, so why not resolve to take hold of that for which Jesus took hold of me.

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joyfuldeepend · 7 months

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Thank You Next

I was reminded recently why God doesn’t give me more than a step at a time notice. The moment he does I have zero patience and want to take the step even if it’s months away. I always think I’m going to do better and it will help me prepare. Guess who’s wrong lol!

After another set of 3 months of foster teen support ending in more destruction, spending the morning of my birthday navigating a fight, the police and an arrest (not mine)…I knew it was time to take a beat and evaluate my status. I took the month of August to pray and check in with God, my passion and my path.

During that time of introspection and prayer some potential opportunities came to light. Despite the life altering things they would bring, I felt excitement and peace around the change. It confirmed what I had been leaning towards and I made the decision to not renew my foster care certification. There were a lot of tears, fears and why God within that time, yet I can’t deny doing what I know is right…although my heart has not found it easy. I don’t know what the future holds for me in foster care, as God and I wrestle with my desire and His will and protection.

While the next move is not set in stone (though what is 🤪), I know it will happen when my lease is up in April 2024. As I count down to the time the Lord has been really clear about me creating space and not filling it with new things or productivity. I’m a doer and a fixer and so I’m both anxious about the in between time and resolute in my response. I’ve been doing a lot of coloring, crying, listening to podcasts, purging and letting go of what I thought I knew over the last couple months.

I was encouraged, by some very wise women, when I turned 40 to fight like hell for the person you are! I continue to battle feelings of selfishness and guilt as I think of what I feel I have left undone. I told the teens who have filled a large part of my heart for the last two years. I knew it was necessary to give them time to come to grips with it and shift into what will be our new style of relationship. I thought fight like hell would look a little different but here we are learning that it can all feel like hell and it can all be worth it too!

I’m thankful for what has been and the almost 3 years of this chapter of my journey…and I’m facing forward to the next. My heart is a little squishy and hella vulnerable…and hanging on like hell to what I know to be true! Thanks for diving into the deep end with me once again!

#mylife #tumblr #blog #joyfuldeepend #blogpost #myloves #dowhatisrightnotwhatiseasy #createwhatyoucrave #vulnerability #fostercareflow

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matthenslee · 1 year

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Dear Southern Baptist,

As we approach #SBC23 in New Orleans, I am writing this letter to you––yes, you. I am also writing it to me. I also wrote the exact same thing last year, and the year before that, but it bears updating and repeating…

By now, you know there’ll be the Southern Baptist Convention Pastors’ Conference on Sunday and Monday, our Annual Meeting on Tuesday and Wednesday, and many events and exhibits to take in along the way. You know when there will be votes, motions, and all that stuff. You probably already know who you can/will vote for (if you don’t, I recommend listening to this), but this is not about that.

This is about your witness.

Every second of every day in New Orleans, you will represent Christ. In the room, out of the room, on the plane, out to eat, at the hotel, on the escalator––wherever you are at any given time, you will be a witness. The bigger question is whether or not you will represent Him well.

In the room…

There will be reporters from all over. There will be a live stream (live.sbc.net) capable of sending the meeting across the globe. Before you step to a microphone, remember James 1:19. Before you ask that question, make that motion, or whatever, take a moment to ask yourself, “Does what I am about to say represent Christ?”

And, as I said, there will be countless reporters. If you see one, for crying out loud, show Christlike kindness and hospitality. Smile at them, welcome them, and reflect the love of Christ to them.

Out of the room…

Maybe an election does not go your way, or a particular motion or resolution irks you. Before you vent in earshot of those passing by, remember Proverbs 29:11. Additionally, you will be surrounded by workers from the Convention Center and volunteers from churches that are there to help you. Thank them, ask how they are doing, encourage them, share the gospel with them, etc.

On the plane…

You hopefully see a trend here. Travel is stressful. I personally hate flying, but from the terminal to the giftshops to your time on the plane, there will be people around you. Will they see Jesus in you? Will you take the opportunity to share Jesus with them? The Great Commission speaks to this––as you go, brothers and sisters, make disciples.

Out to eat…

One of our girls stuck a stick in a giant ant bed a year ago because she “wanted to see the ant move around more.” Moments later, she exclaimed, “Ouch! Some of these sting!” When we break for lunch or dinner, the Convention Center will look like an ant bed that just got jammed by a stick as thousands upon thousands of people rush out to grab a bite to eat. Will you sting?

You certainly represent Southern Baptists, but more importantly, Jesus Christ as you enter the restaurant. Be nice, be patient, tip well, and consider a short gospel presentation when the opportunity presents itself.

At the hotel…

From the front desk workers or breakfast servers to the housekeepers, will you represent Christ in your interactions with and around them? Will you look for opportunities to share your faith? If you meet a fellow Southern Baptist, I encourage you to take some time to hear their story, ask how you all can pray for one another and the Annual Meeting, and pray. If they are not, share Jesus with them.

Also, there will be plenty of temptations when you are alone in your hotel room. Honestly, I would simply suggest unplugging your TV and not connecting to the WiFi. Instead, work on your next sermon, pray for the next day of the Annual Meeting, etc.

Along the way…

This just kind of conveys all the other places you will be at any given time. With 10,000+ Southern Baptists around, do not use this time to gripe and moan but encourage. If you find yourself next to a fellow Southern Baptist, ask where they are from, what God is up to in their life or church, and encourage them.

This is about your witness.

Your witness will either be good or bad. Things may go your way “in the room” or not. Regardless, you represent Christ. Keep that in mind as you make your way in and around New Orleans, so we can show and share His love with those He came to save. Until we meet in NOLA, I love you and am rooting for you.

#sbc23 #neworleans #southernbaptist #sbc

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freehawaii · 2 years

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KE AUPUNI UPDATE - AUGUST 2022

Hauoli Lā Hānau Liliʻuokalani Next Friday, September 2nd, we will celebrate the 184th birthday of our extraordinary Queen Liliʻuokalani. Not only was she the beloved, compassionate, courageous and wise Mōʻī of the Hawaiian Kingdom, she set the example for non-violent resistance later adopted by world-changers, Mahatma Ghandi, Rev. Martin Luther King and others... including todayʻs kiaʻi Hawaiʻi. When faced with the certainty of bloodshed in repelling the U.S. invasion, she chose to seek a peaceful, diplomatic remedy, temporarily yielding (not surrendering) her authority to the United States (not the traitors). Even though her diplomatic protest was acknowledged and honored by U.S. President Cleveland, “the swamp” in D.C. ignored it and conspired with the insurgents to annex the Hawaiian Islands. The showdown came in 1897 when President McKinley, a fervent supporter of American expansion, signed a treaty to annex Hawaii and the U.S. Senate sought to fast-track ratification of the treaty. In an unprecedented, masterful move, Mōʻī Liliʻuokalani spent a year in Washington, D.C. to personally lobby against annexation, and with strong support of the Kūʻe Petition, defeated the ratification of the McKinley treaty. But what can you do when a country as powerful as the United States cheats? First through the unlawful 1893 aggression to force regime change; then the seizure of Hawaii through a bogus domestic congressional resolution and the pretense of fighting a war against Spain in the Pacific. How did our Queen deal with such flagrant corruption, injustice and mind-boggling cheating of international law? Not to mention the deep personal disappointment in not being able as Mōʻī to protect and save her people and the lāhui from being taken over by the betrayal of a foreign power that was once a trusted best friend, that pretended to stand for all the noble ideals of fairness, freedom and democratic self-government. She spent many hours in prayer to Ke Akua for strength and wisdom, for compassion and forgiveness. She prayed for her people and did her best to protect them from harm. All of her actions — Yielding her authority (but not surrendering the nation) to keep her peole from being killed... Choosing diplomacy instead of war... “Abdicating” her throne (under duress and wrong identity) to save her subjects from being excecuted... Lobbying the U.S. Congress to defeat annexation... Filing lawsuits over the seizure of the “Crown Lands” (private lands) by the usurpers... Absorbing the blows of racist lies and character assasination against her by the American media... Forgiving her tormentors... Encouraging her people to be peaceful even under extreme provocation... Giving of her personal wealth to help the needy. All of her leadership by example preserved and defined not only the character of our nation, but the ashes from which to rise again. The life and mōhai aloha of our Mōʻī Liliʻuokalani, is what gives us the inspiration, the legal right and the kuleana to reactivate our nation. Aloha lā hānau e Liliʻuokalani Ua mau ke ea o ka ʻāina i ka pono. The sovereignty of the land is perpetuated in righteousness. ------ For the latest news and developments about our progress at the United Nations in both New York and Geneva, tune in to Free Hawaii News at  6 PM the first Friday of each month on ʻŌlelo Television, Channel 53.

------ SIGN THIS PETITION…

 Rename McKinley High School and remove the McKinley statue! He was the president who turned Hawaii from a peaceful, neutral country into a major hub of America’s war machine. Sign this online petition NOW! Tell everyone you know to sign it too! TinyURL.com/AlohaOeMcKinley PLEASE KŌKUA… Your kōkua, large or small, is vital to this effort... To contribute, go to: • GoFundMe – CAMPAIGN TO FREE HAWAII • PayPal – use account email: [email protected] • Other – To contribute in other ways (airline miles, travel vouchers, volunteer services, etc...) email us at: [email protected] “FREE HAWAII” T-SHIRTS - etc. Check out the great FREE HAWAII products you can purchase at... http://www.robkajiwara.com/store/c8/free_hawaii_products All proceeds are used to help the cause. MAHALO! Malama Pono, 

Leon Siu

 Hawaiian National

#ke aupuni #leon siu #koani foundation #free hawaii #hawaiian kingdom

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fatouseckcreates · 2 years

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Artists have a lot of feelings.

So I wanted to talk about my feelings for a bit. Ive been going to therapy (inconsistently) but the volume I need I just dont have the funds to afford it lol. SO I decided to come on here and ramble for a minute. Ive been having a bad couple of weeks, a bad few months, the last few years haven’t been too great either, if we’re being honest. Thats not to say that I haven’t received some amazing blessings throughout that time. I absolutely have. But I’ve been going through such a dramatic growth period some parts of this journey have felt overwhelming.

Thinking about freedom, personal choices, self acceptance, what is objectively right? Does that matter, when people are not meant to live objective lives? Life is subjective by nature we are meant to have very different experiences. So I wanna talk to yall and encourage myself to be a bit more free and more accepting of myself.

Pandemic aside, so many of us have been going through traumas, huge endings, beginnings, while still trying to remain present in the world. After all the changes I went through I had to look at myself and say wow, you have changed. And part of this change is exactly what you asked for. Exactly what you prayed for. But it doesn’t look the way you thought it would so now you feel like its a punishment. Right?

I had a talk with myself, because I was in a situation recently where I felt like I was done so wrong, and I lashed out. And later regretted it because I felt like even though my feelings were justified I should not have responded in a hurtful way if I wanted to be received and just continue having a conversation that ends in changed behavior or some kind of resolution. No matter who anybody else is, I should always remember my principles and treat people how I want to be treated. If I am the one causing the confusion or the pain and someone is telling me their experience I dont want to shouted at bombarded etc so give people what you expect from them, right? Even if I dont get it back all the time thats the standard I try to hold for myself because I want to be someone who treats people with integrity.

And as I replayed this last conversation over and over in my mind and how I wish I would’ve spoken differently I start to take it even further back. What was the root of my anger? Why did I go off like that in THIS particular moment, when all up til now I had been able to contain my anger in a way that was not an attack. So I took it back even further. Waaaay back. To last year back. And I started to look at things from the other person’s perspective. WHYYY did they think this was ok? Why did they move like that?

In the midst of my outburst I told this person dont act like a victim. Which is essentially what I was doing. And because the basis of me and this person’s friendship was literally that we have so much of the same experiences, so much of the same heartbreak and so many of the same trauma responses, I had to look again. I obsessively replayed the conversation in my head. I listened to their voice their words and I knew that I fucked up.

Me, I’m the one who cries anytime I have to talk about my feelings. I wasn’t always like this. IN fact, I wouldn’t know what I was like before because I never spoke about my feelings. All of this was new for me. But I appreciated this person because they wouldn’t let me go without speaking my mind. So I forced myself to get comfortable telling my truth. But yeah, so now I am a giant cry baby. I have accepted it. Its my new thing, as a result of all the bullshit I been holding in. All the things Ive been trying to deal with on my own that have not amounted to any sufficient healing, just a little bandaid here and there. Maybe I will always have those scars? Maybe one day they won’t creep up on me when im trying to speak on something else. Hurt is not logical, pain is not logical, but it is mathematical. It adds up, multiplies itself. The more you pile on top of it, the more you try to suffocate it ,it will turn around and swallow you up. It will totally consume you during conversations that have very little to do with it.

Here I was, feeling that I had been done wrong after wrong after wrong because I wasn’t getting my way. Because I couldn’t manipulate the situation. Because I couldn’t deny the situation. What I wanted was essentially to live in my own world where I get to be happy because I get what I want. Because I felt like there’s nooo way im going through 3 straight years of bullshit and then I STILL end up with a shitty ending there just no way God would do me like that? Me, your homegirl?? Your beloved daughter?

I put myself in their shoes. From the very beginning of this misunderstanding. Last year. I replayed all our old conversations. What went right. What I was thinking, what they were thinking. What I wasn’t saying, what they weren’t saying. What they did say that I wasn’t listening to. And I remembered being in a state of denial. Not wanting to make a final decision. Feeling caught in between 2 difficult choices where I felt like I was betraying people who were loyal to me, potentially fucking up life long relationships, to take a chance on something that felt right in the moment. I was frozen. I was prepared to wait it out until a decision just kind of made itself. Because I was afraid of making the wrong choice. Afraid of being ostracized. Afraid of people gossiping about me. Afraid of being messed up to someone who was there for me when I felt alone. I was afraid to break a promise. I froze. And while I was frozen pretending that I had all the time in the world, they were waiting on me to make a choice. And when I wouldn’t, they decided for themself. As most self respecting people would. But for me, this was a huge betrayal. And another layer to add to my drawer of L’s. While I was enjoying their company using it as an escape from the unhappiness and the grief that was swallowing me up, they were feeling like I would never make a decision. Like they would be caught in the wind waiting forever. When they brought it to my attention. I froze, again. Didn’t know what to say. I was leaning towards a decision, but again, wanted to be super super sure so I didn’t say much. I didn’t say what I should’ve. And because I decided to hold back, to be intentionally unclear, they decided their best course of action was to move forward without me.

While this was being communicated to me I did not understand that they were telling me “I am moving on from this because it is painful and I no longer wish to be in pain. I am avoiding any more hurt. I am giving up on you because you cannot make a definitive choice about me.” I thought once again I could sweep the conversation under the rug until I was ready to speak. Me, I need time to formulate my thoughts. Especially where feelings are concerned. Off the top of my head I DO NOT KNOW. I have to put them together. I have to make them make sense I have to break every single thing down because I am so afraid of being wrong. And I was still wrong lol.

This was the beginning of sooooo much pain for me. And the heaviness sat right on top of my chest, and wound itself up in the pit my stomach, and took all the other fucked up feelings and made this poisonous cocktail of insecurity, betrayal, confusion, regret, anger, toxicity. And this person, being who they were, believing that they were doing a noble, kind thing by helping me through my hurt, wanted to take responsibility for my feelings. To continue “fixing” me. (Maybe their lesson was that you can’t fix people?) Now, mind you, this whole time I had been receiving messages to let this situation go. Almost daily. But!! I refused. Because how tf was I gonna let go the only person in my life who was consistently providing me a safe space to be EXACTLY who I am. I was not willing to let that go because in my mind I would never feel this safe again. I would never feel this free again. Me who has perfected so well the art of compartmentalizing my life so that no one person knows every thing about me. I was felt comfortable to show up as myself, warts and all. And it felt GOOOD. To be seen, heard, understood. It felt amazing and I held on so fucking tight believing that THEY were the reason I had some relief from feeling fucked up all the time. When the wholesome this freedom was a choice I could have been making all along. But thats for another day.

And I took this hurt and rationalized it and told myself that I would still be able to have the ending I wanted, the one I came up with in my mind. And so I held on to that. As they were moving further from our shared history I was holding tighter. And as I clenched tighter the hurt multiplied. The WHY ME’S? What did I do wrong? Without actually believing I had done anything wrong. Without truly understanding that just because I had certain intentions doesn’t mean that everyone will go along with your plan, even if they are your friend and they like you. I thought how can someone who cares about me treat me this way? How can this person know exactly what the fuck I been through and continue treating ME this way? He wasn’t treating me anyway, he was moving forward from a potentially painful situation. I felt like I was supposed to fight. Fight to earn this love. Fight to earn this friendship, fight to keep them around because losing them felt scarrrrrry. And every time this person moved on with THEIR reality I took it personally, it felt like a shot straight to my heart. And I kept explaining myself explaining myself because thats what I didn’t do before right? So maybe if I explain myself now I can talk my way out of this. Maybe I can get my way. I gave up on having my way after a while. It was becoming too toxic. They, wanted to remain friends. Because how could this person live with themselves believing they caused me so much pain. That was their bandaid. I thought I could fix things by explaining my feelings. They thought they could fix it all by offering ”friendship”. Friendship at this point was an insult because how dare you love me so intensely and then take it away, and go on parading your new happy life in my face as if im supposed to congratulate you. Alhough this concept of going BACK to being “friends” was not something I wanted to do, for me to be the one to cut everything off and have them now heartbroken and upset didn’t sit right with me. So I stayed around. And I never took the time to look at the situation from any standpoint where I was not the victim.

I knew they were hurt, but no one was hurt more than me. No one had suffered more than me. No one had given more than me. No one was willing to sacrifice more than me. And I wore that as a badge of honor but thinking back, it was too little too late. It was hurt I caused myself. I sacrificed myself, and to what avail? No one asked me to. I was afraid of going back to crippling loneliness, feeling boxed in from other ppls expectations. They were afraid of the same. We went about it in two different ways and this is the truth I have to accept. He was not wrong. He was so afraid to hurt me anymore that he just played along hoping one day I would be better, while he continued to live his life. And I was MADDDD that he could try to live his life separate from me.

The moral of the story is, your feelings are valid. Your hurt, anger pain is valid. But sometimes the villain of the story is not them. Sometimes you are your own villain. Sometimes you cause your own mess and that still doesn’t make you a bad person.

Everybody has skeletons. No one is perfect. No one is above being judged. But that doesn’t mean you have to stop living your life for fear other ppl will not understand your motivation. Life is for the living.

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violstonesofficial · 2 years

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The Tools God Uses to Bring Us Closer to Him

In this current season in my life, I've felt far from God, admittedly. It has felt like the depression has grown so strong and that it's been all-consuming. I've tried praying but have felt that He has been silent during this time, feeling as though the Holy Spirit is dormant within me. I know this is not necessarily true, but that is how it feels, and it's led me to wonder if God might be communicating with me in ways I might not have noticed before.

My healing journey during this time has looked very different from the other God-centered seasons of my life. I've been less active in bible study, isolated from other members of my faith, and felt less impacted by moments of worship that used to overwhelm me with His presence. But I've done so much work on the mental health front with my therapist and my support system that I know healing is happening. Yet, the fact that God seems to be playing a less evident role in the process has raised some concerns about whether my healing is “real” or if I'm being led astray by secular practices.

I know this makes me sound a bit fanatical and religious, but having lived my life as a Christian and now knowing how much God saves and loves me, I'm pretty sold on living for Him in the best ways I can. These concerns are just part of the faith, evaluating whether or not your actions and choices reflect the transformation that Jesus induced at the moment of salvation. So as I go about my journey, I'm still looking for signs of his hands in it, even if I don't readily feel or see it the way I used to.

With that in mind, these are some reminders I like to tell myself about how God is still present and involved even if it doesn't feel like it.

Coincidences

God doesn't want anything other than our healing. I believe and trust that he is a good and loving father. And I believe He is always working. So in times of silence, I take it as a chance to be even more observant of just how he operates. His silence allows me to take notice of the things that have been strategically placed in my path. It can be the way things play out in a day that I was anticipating to be very hectic and stressful, or a resource or a person offering me the encouragement I needed at just the right moment. Even a well-placed flower during a lonely walk is a sign that God is looking out for me. He knows just what my spirit needs at any given moment. These little things are not coincidences. They're God moments.

Hindsight

I have also found that God will use memories as a way to reconnect with me. Especially when it's particularly emotionally challenging, I'll find myself ruminating on something from my past, and I may even be angry at God for his seeming absence or in my current and past situation. I'll analyze a memory repeatedly to try and understand why it happened, how I could've changed it, and ultimately where was my Savior through it. I know the former two questions are manifestations of depression and anxiety, needlessly going over the same thing to no end or resolution. But that last challenge to God -- “where were you?…” -- I'm often met with a new realization and a better understanding of that situation in light of his character. I may not have seen him there in the moment the way that I wanted to, but how he orchestrated things, how I was comforted after, or a tiny God moment that I may have overlooked, will remind me of who He is and how good he is.

Signs

The last thing I've noticed is that God will use signs and superstitions to connect. He is the creator of all things, after all, and He is not above using symbols that you or I gravitate to in order to draw us closer to him. Anytime I've noticed something in the realm of superstition, say 11:11, for example, I examine the moment through the Christian lens to find that He was calling my attention to something pertinent to me at that moment and was working it out on my behalf. Noticing these signs makes me wait for him or reminds me to seek him for help. And that is all He’s asking for when we stray far away.

This is all to say that God is still there, that He’s literally everywhere. We only need to open our eyes/ears/hearts to witness Him. We have to be willing and ready to notice when he speaks. It may not be the way you were thinking, but He is capable of speaking to us in any language or mode we know. And he is so loving that he will and does. He's not ignoring us or refusing to answer. But when our path has led us somewhere we didn't anticipate, the only way we can get back is to recognize a sign for what it is: him showing us who He is, where He is, and that He is with us.

Have you been feeling distant on your faith walk lately? How has God communicated with you in the past or now? Let me know in the comments below!

Til next time, Take Care!

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sacerdotessa · 3 years

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TAROT GUIDE FOR BEGINNERS

Hi cuties! I tried to create an apposite blog for witchcraft/spiritual stuff but tumblr decided to be a bad bitch and marked my blog as a spammer, so I decided to post this guide here on my main blog. These observation are based on my 6+ years experience with tarot cards. I need some friends in the witchcraft community and more blog to follow, like this post and I will check your blog! <3

⚠️ If you want to repost this on your Instagram, please tag the creator: @sacerdotess4 on IG⚠️

Sorry for my bad english.

MAJOR ARCANA:

The Fool (0) : This card is all about cycles, it could be referred to a new beginning in your life, a feeling of joy and excitement. It could also be associated with an happy ending followed by the beginning of something even better.

it's usually a positive card and it's energy's able to protect you from the energy of negative cards. It suggests you to have faith, to act in a positive and optimistic way and to follow your instinct.

in some occasion it could mean impulsive and childish behavior and a return to “point zero”.

It's referred to something that's going to happen pretty soon.

The Magician (I) : This card's about YOU and your ability to excel in a specific aspect of life. You have the ability to be successful and the strength to overcome obstacles, it reminds that you are the creator of your destiny. It's also connected to intelligence and suggests you to connect to your higher self. It's an invite to ACT NOW and to avoid procrastination.

In a negative scenario it could be referred to a manipulative person with bad intentions.

It's referred to something that's going to happen pretty soon.

The High Priestess (II) : This card's all about secrets and things that are hidden from you. It could also mean that you're not allowed to receive the answer for your question (I noticed that if this card come out frequently during your readings it's signal to stop doing tarot for a while and to recharge your energy). It suggest you to connect with your spiritual side and to follow your intuition or that you're going to receive a wise advice from someone that's close to you.

The Empress (III) : It's all about confidence, self-love and being happy with your yourself, sometimes it could be related to a mother or to a woman in your life. It announces a time of personal growth, self discovering and connection with your truer self. It's related to a happy state of mind, creativity, new projects and love stories. It suggest you to believe in yourself and in your ability to create something new.

It's related to spring/summer and announces that you're going to see the product of your work in a while, changes will not be noticeable immediately.

The Emperor (IV) : This card suggests you to act in a strong and powerful way, to persist and to follow your goals. Like The Magician it suggests that the right time to act is NOW and that you should put your needs first. What you're hoping to achieve is already yours.

In a negative scenario it could be related to a stubborn and closed minded individual who's not going to compromise.

The Hierophant (V) : Like the High Priestess, this is a card about secrets and things that are hidden, in this case the card shows you that a secret's going to be revealed pretty soon or a conflict will be solved. It reminds of a situation of peace and clarity. It's also referred to a marriage or a long term relationship, to your father or an older man in your life, to a teacher, mentor or a guide. It announces the resolution of a problem.

In negative scenarios this card protects you from the negative cards and suggest you that the obstacles will be solved fast.

The Lovers (VI) : This card's all about duality, choices and relationships. It could suggest a romantic relationship or romantic interests, but it's not always the case, sometimes it suggest an important decision that's going to change your life. It reminds that you should trust your emotions and follow them. It can talks about a partner or someone who's in love with you, a reciprocated crush, good choices and happiness.

The Chariot (VII) : It's a card about victory and overcoming fears. It suggests that you're going to win and to excel, but first you need to overcame some obstacles. It could be related to travels. It reminds you that success is around the corner, your commitment will be repaid.

The Strength (VIII) : It's a card about commitment, power and pride. In a love reading it reminds of a strong feeling, true love and honesty. It suggests to maintain a positive and optimistic attitude e to stay focused on your goals. In a reading about a specific problem it suggest that you need to be patience because the solution of the problem's not there already, you need to wait for a while and to fight against your problem a little more, it suggest you to be optimistic because you have all the abilities to overcame your obstacles.

It's usually referred to the summer.

The Hermit (IX) : It's related to intelligence, being wise, loneliness and research. It suggests a lonely period and introspection, a transitioning phase in your life, you should take advantage of this period for studying something new and the card suggests you to read more books. If you are asking if you're on the right path the answer is “yes”, it suggests that your soul chose a difficult path but you're going to overcame all the obstacles. It's the right time for counseling or seeing a psychologist.

It's associated with waiting for a long time for an effective change in your life.

The Wheel of Fortune (X) : It's about changes, new opportunities and the beginning of a new cycle, usually it's a positive card but it's pretty sensitive to the influence of other cards. It suggests that you're entering in a new chapter of your life or that you're going to move on in a painful situation.

The Justice (XI) : It's a card about equality and fairness. It could be either a positive or negative card, it means that those who act good will be blessed with a positive change, those who act bad will be punished for their action. It could be related to authority and making choices, a marriage or a divorce. It suggests you that your problems will be solved in the right way, you just have to trust the universe and allow the divine energy to guide you. It's about telling the truth and talk in a clear way.

It's related to patience and long time waiting.

The Hanged Man (XII) : It's a card about blockages, anxiety, bad periods, waiting for something, impossibility to act, stagnancy. It's related to a bad situations, feeling trapped and problems that cannot be solved for now. It suggest you to wait for better occasions and to explore your spiritual side, the right intuition will come to you at the right time.

It's associated with long time waiting.

The Death (XIII) : This card's about the natural end of a cycle, radical changes, moving on and ending in general. It's not always a bad card and generally it's not related to an actual death, it will just bring a change in some aspects of your life or in a relationship. It suggests you to let go of the past. In some cases it could mean that someone of your past is going to get back into your life.

The Temperance (XIV) : It's about finding a new balance after a bad period, healing and inner work. It suggest you to relax, to calm yourself, to stay in the present moment and to take care of yourself. It's a positive card and announces a period of calm and peace of mind. It's a good time for counseling, seeing a therapist, begin a diet or take care of yourself in general.

The Devil (XV) : It's a card about obsession, secrets, negativity, manipulative behavior, gossips and bad energy in general. It announces an obstacle in a situation or that someone's not being honest to you. It's related to anxiety, being worried, hyper sexuality and toxicity.

In a good scenario it could be related to a passionate person, with persuasive manners and a charismatic personality.

The Tower (XVI) : It's about destruction, surprises, shocking events. It's not necessarily a bad card, it's always associated to an unexpected event, in a good scenario it could mean “love at first sight”. As a mental state, it's connected to depression, anger and mental breakdowns. It forces you to let go of something to make space for something better.

The Star (XVII) : It's all about dreams, good luck, protection and hope. It's a good card and encourages you to dream bigger and to trust the universe. It announces a dream that's going to came true, a good opportunity and success. It's connected to spirits and suggests that they're protecting you. Everything will turn out fine. It suggests you to pray and to connect to your higher self.

In presence of bad cards, it could be referred to a dream that's not going to came true or false hope.

A change will shows up into your life at the right time.

The Moon (XVIII) : It's a card about fears, insecurities, danger and lies. Like The High Priestess, it suggests that the cards are not able to answer your question. The situation in unstable and it generates anxiety and fears. It suggests to connect with your spiritual side and make clarity inside you mind.

The Sun (XIX) : It's a positive card that announces happiness, joy and clarity. It's connected to a secret that's going to be revealed, peace after a conflict, harmony, beauty, something good in your love life or good times with friends.

It's related to summer.

The Judgement (XX) : It's a positive card related to resurrection, resolutions, shocking news. In some ways it's like a positive version of The Tower, it could be connected to love at first sight, someone of the past that get back into your life, insights and unexpected news. It could be referred to the internet.

It's associated with something that happen in an unexpected way.

The World (XXI) : Like The Fool, it's a card referred to cycles, ending a chapter, receiving gratification after hard times. It means that now you're able to see the “biggest picture” and see things in perspective. It could be referred to an important gift, a resolution to a problem or a dream that came true. It's connected with abundance and being wise.

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Kind of Stardust (Legolas x Reader)

Synopsis: After taking Legolas, your partner, to visit your “Stardust” addict brother, things get a little chaotic.

A/N: I’ve been thinking about Legolas a lot lately, and one thought that’s recently crossed my mind is “what if Legolas got high on crack?” and my brain ran with the rest. Sometimes you just gotta write about an elf on cocaine.

Warnings: drug abuse, addiction, peer pressure, mentions of sex, a very crazy and over-the-top elf high on Stardust.

Dismounting your respective horses, both you and Legolas dropped to the pine needles below. You had finally arrived at your brother’s secluded cottage in the forest, away from the hustle and bustle of the cities.

“I can’t believe he actually managed to afford a place to live,” you scoffed, thinking of your brother.

He had suffered many years with addiction to “Stardust”—a white powder when once inhaled, made your body react faster and more impulsively than usual.

“Try to be optimistic,” Legolas soothed. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder and kissed your head. “Keep in mind how much you want your older brother at our wedding, and that’ll put things into perspective.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, supposing he was right. “This wouldn’t be the first time Franny lied about ‘being better’, though.”

“No,” Legolas agreed, walking you both forward towards the cottage, arm around your back. “But this is the first time he’s said so upon us getting married in a month.”

The grin he gave you was one brimming in lovesickness, as he studied your eyes.

You arched a brow up at him over his words, knowing exactly how elvish marriages were undertaken, and how you technically already were husband and wife.

Catching your expression, he cleared his throat sheepishly, and responded with, “Well…married formally, at least.”

You rolled your eyes away from him, but couldn’t fight the smile on your face. However, it soon ran away, as you both arrived at the closed front door.

You inhaled tightly, and spoke aloud. “Here we are, I suppose.”

Hearing the premature disappointment in your voice, Legolas looked down his side at you. Grabbing hold of both of your hands, he gazed into your eyes and reassured you.

“Hey,” he lulled, earning your full attention. “It’s all going to be fine, all right? You needn’t worry about your family embarrassing you in front of me, like you mentioned on the road. We’ve talked about this whole ‘prince and commoner’ thing at length. I wouldn’t have…married you if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Your heart melted and your knees turned to mush, as you smiled up at him—bursting with love.

He returned the look and brought one hand up to cup your cheek. Running a thumb along your cheekbone, he began tilting your head upwards.

Still feeling your stomach flutter after all these years, you eyed him in excitement, before steadily closing your lids.

Right before his lips could brush against yours, however, the door to your brother’s cottage slammed opened.

Jolting away from one another, you both looked at Francis in shock. He looked every bit like you, but taller.

A broad grin was on Francis’ face, as he eyed his sister up.

“Y/n!” he exclaimed, rushing forwards to tackle you into a hug. “I’m so glad you made it! Oh! I haven’t seen you in years! And to think that you’re now getting married! Speaking of which—”

He pulled back from squeezing you blue, to size up Legolas instead. He strutted forwards with a low, manly laugh, and gripped a suddenly rigid and wide-eyed Legolas tight on the shoulders.

“My future brother-in-law!” he exclaimed, quickly pulling the protesting elf into a bear hug. “An elf, AND a prince! I can’t believe how well my sister scored!”

Laughing nervously, Legolas awkwardly wrapped his arms around Francis, patting him on the back. The only person he’d ever truly been skin-to-skin intimate with was you. Everyone else got a closed fist to the chest, or a shoulder clasp.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Francis,” Legolas said, politely.

“Francis?” he exclaimed, pulling back and holding Legolas straight by the shoulders. “Who are you, my mother? Don’t be so formal, your highness! You can just call me ‘Franny’, like Y/n here does!”

He turned to you with a broad grin, and you returned it, though, in a lipped manner. Legolas offered a tight and confused grin back, unsure at the best of times on how to interact with humans. Francis was certainly the most bizarre one he’d met yet.

He almost regretted encouraging you to visit him, but the thought of your nearing wedding day ahead drove him forward, as well as one simple, repetitive thought.

Do it for Y/n.

“Well, don’t be strangers now!” Francis pressed on, ushering you both inside. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea? Moonshine?”

“Tea is fine, Franny,” you said in an almost scolding tone, knowing he shouldn’t drink at all.

As you stepped inside of the home, you inspected every nook and cranny with your eyes—expecting bags of Stardust to be lying around.

However, to your surprise, there were none.

“Tea coming right up!” Franny declared, whisking away to the kitchen. “Please! Make yourselves at home down at the table!”

Legolas thanked him with a smile, and sat you down in a gentlemanly manner, before taking his seat next to you.

Looking around the room, and pleasantly surprised with your brother, you voiced so aloud.

“Wow, Franny, this place actually looks amazing! I’m quite proud of you—it seems as though you’ve really cleaned up your act this time, as opposed to the last occasion.”

“I’m completely clean, sister!” his voice came from the kitchen. You could also hear the whistling of a kettle and the rattling of drawers.

You smiled up at Legolas with excitement in your eyes, as you truly believed your brother. He returned your smile, and offered a brighter one as you spoke.

“I think he’s really done it…should we invite him now?”

“Absolutely,” he encouraged. “Do you want to go get the invitation out of the saddle-bags?”

Nodding resolutely, you stood to your feet. You placed a peck against his lips, before leaving out the door again.

“Make friends with him,” you said, before leaving with a happy skip in your step.

He waved you goodbye, before Francis’ voice caught his attention.

“Y/n! Hey, do you think—oh, where’d she go?”

Legolas looked over his shoulder to find Francis’ head sticking out of the entranceway into the kitchen, as he looked left and right for his sister.

“She’s just stepped outside for a moment,” Legolas answered, politely.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Francis dropped his act, and his expression.

The change in demeanour chased the smile away from Legolas’ face, as he parted his lips in shock up at the man.

“I beg your pardon?” Legolas asked, already on the “what did you just say about my wife?” boat.

“She can be a real nagger sometimes,” Francis explained. He dropped to his knees and pulled a wooden plank out from the floorboards. Underneath, a brown bag of white powder lay.

He fetched it quickly, and came to sit on the couch next to Legolas, but a few feet away. Francis then began pouring a handful out, where he next went onto inhaling some.

“What are you doing?!” Legolas nearly squealed, jumping to his feet, as if a snake was just placed next to him.

“Elevating myself. What’s it look like, elf?” Francis sassed, quirking a brow up at Legolas.

“Are you insane?” the angry side of Legolas emerged. “Y/n just left to retrieve your wedding invitation, and you’re betraying her trust?”

“Relax, would you?” Francis complained, inhaling more of the dust from his hand. “What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.”

“Uh, I’m standing right here,” Legolas pointed out, gesturing to his body.

Looking his brother-in-law up and down, Francis replied, using a very monotonous voice. “Uh, yeah, I can see that. You’re a real stud of a stallion, so what?”

“No, that’s not what I—” Legolas went to defend himself. However, he bit his tongue and pressed both hands together in a praying motion. He brought said hands up to his face, and rested his forehead against them.

Closing his eyes, Legolas took a deep breath of his own.

“Wow, you look really stressed there, my friend,” Franny pointed out, holding the bag up next. “Would you like to try some?”

Jolted back into his senses, Legolas gaped down at the man for a minute in shock, before anger gave way again. “NO, FRANCIS! I WOULD NOT LIKE SOME OF YOUR DRUGS! Y/n will be devastated when she finds out you’re using again! And I encouraged her to give you another chance—I see why she was so against it now.”

The frown and glare of Legolas only deepened, as Franny rose to his feet, squaring up with the slightly taller elf.

“Hey, pal, you have no idea what I’m all about,” he growled, nodding his head in gesture of the elf. “And besides, who are you to judge? You’ve never even tried Stardust before!”

“Oh,” Legolas scoffed, rolling his eyes, “excuse me for having never done drugs before, what a horribly ignorant elf I am.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Francis urged, holding up a handful to Legolas’ nose. “C’mon, just a little sniff! You’ll feel a lot calmer soon, I promise!”

“No!” Legolas rejected, swatting his hands. “Get that stuff away from me, Francis!”

“C’mon!” Francis drew out, trying to put it underneath Legolas’ dodging nose. “Just a little bit of Stardust won’t hurt you!”

“No, but it’ll hurt Y/n!” he protested, trying to move away from the adamant man.

“Just a little!” he urged again, chasing Legolas, as the elf was backed into a corner.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“I SAID NO!”

“Okay, you know what?” Francis rolled his eyes, now fully having the elf cornered. “Here!”

With one big puff of air, the entire handful of Stardust blew into Legolas’ face, entering his system almost immediately.

Legolas rapidly blinked his eyes open and shut, as he tried to get rid of the dust. The white powder danced between the man and elf in an equal amount, getting both high very quickly.

As the dust fluttered down to the floor, looking as though a bag of flour had just exploded, Legolas stared at his brother-in-law in shock.

“You…” he attempted to say, before he felt the pumping of his heart increase.

“Oh, yes, my friend,” Francis grinned, nodding his head. “You’re in for a good time…”

Outside, you had finally found the wedding invitation in your saddle-bag, now heading back on over towards the cottage.

You barely had time to announce your presence again, for the first thing you saw upon re-entering was your brother and husband kneeled on the floor, speaking fast and brooming up…flour?

“I feel like everything’s gonna work out, you know? Because I’m like clockwork!” your brother said, all in one go, to Legolas, as they quickly broomed everything up. “Look how fast I’m cleaning this mess up! Clockwork! I’m moving super-fast! Look at me go!”

Legolas nodded vehemently, and raised one finger to speak over the top of your brother, as they both continued vigorously cleaning the floor.

“Y-You know what’s funny? Can I speak? You know what’s funny?” he began, quick as a whip. “I feel like I should be panicking right now, and I am a little bit, but in a very, very good way—like a good kind of panic, because I feel like I want to die right now, but I also feel very, very good—”

“Hey!” you called, staring at them in confusion. “What on earth are you guys doing?”

“Y/n!” Legolas gasped, shooting to his feet.

Jumping over the couch in a way that made your eyes go wide, Legolas was instantly stood before you.

“I feel amazing!” he revealed, grabbing a chunk of blonde hair either side of his head, and pulling outwards. “LOOK HOW LONG MY HAIR IS! It’s growing out of my head right now—can you believe that? Isn’t that sort of disgusting? Ew, I’ve just made myself feel uncomfortable in my own body—”

Legolas gasped brightly, and met your eyes again. This was where you saw how dilated they were.

“CAN I BORROW YOUR BODY INSTEAD?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your waist. “THAT’S A BRILLIANT IDEA! And I know how to go inside, too, so it’ll all feel much better soon—”

“Are you high on…Stardust?!” you exclaimed, removing his hands from your waist.

Legolas blinked down at you rapidly for a few seconds, before slowly answering.

“No…?”

“I can’t believe it,” you seethed. Pushing past Legolas, you glared down at your laughing brother. “You’re absolutely deplorable, Francis! Don’t even THINK about showing up to the wedding!”

You tore up his invitation, and threw it down onto the ground below. You next began shoving a reluctant Legolas out of the house.

Fortunately, once he felt the pine needles on his feet (he was barefoot, for some reason), he gasped loudly and took off running.

“LOOK HOW GREEN IT IS!” he exclaimed. “HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED HOW GREEN IT IS? THE COLOURS ARE BURSTING RIGHT NOW ALL AROUND ME. I feel as though it’s sort of designed in my honour, you know? As in, nature really understands—SQUIRREL—what my name means.”

You rubbed your temples with a grinding of your teeth, as you watched your husband sprint off to climb a tree, where he beckoned you to join.

Growling, you spoke lowly under your breath.

“This is going to be a long ride home…”

Hearing a strangled yelp, you noticed that Legolas had already fallen out of the tree. You sighed, and began walking over—already knowing your words to be true.

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

safe

part 9 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco (Frankie, Catfish) Morales x reader

wordcount: 2.3k

warnings: none, lots of kissing

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, you discover how truly committed you are to a man you’ve only been on one real date with.

notes: just a head’s up, next week will be the last chapter of this series! I’ll give a proper thank-you then, but I also have a couple (at least three) one-shots in the universe because I... want to. hope that’s okay!

When you were younger and you attended the baseball games under the summer heat with James, you spent more time watching the people in the crowd than the players. Vague knowledge of the rules and even your grandfather’s enthusiasm weren’t nearly enough to keep you interested during the long stretches of advertisements. Now, the moments when Santi was getting strike after strike were exhilarating instead of boring and you grinned with pride, like it was personal each time the ball found it’s home in Frankie’s glove.

This season had been a whirlwind as you began to appreciate the game because of the players, and you didn’t think you had any more room for excitement.

That was, until Francisco’s mother decided she wanted to attend with you and James.

The sweet catcher hadn’t even had time to apologize and offer an alternative before your grandfather stepped in, and the rest was history. You didn’t mind, of course you didn’t, how could you? It was strange, spending time with her so early in the relationship but it made you happy that she was so excited about you. The two of them hung on your elbows, and you laughed at how awkward it made walking through the narrow gap to your seats.

From somewhere in her bag, she produced an entire tupperware of homemade pan dulce, sugar filling the grooves on the bottom, and you settled in. You were fairly sure that wasn’t allowed but you were helpless against her sweet, determined face so it only made sense security would be too.

It wasn’t work, talking to her, she felt like an auntie or a friend’s friend – someone you half already knew, and who certainly knew you. She filled the silence with stories and questions and only heard the first half of your answer before excitedly pointing at her son and his friends on the field. It felt like you were at a kids baseball game, how she clicked her tongue and freely gave them advice as if they could hear her.

At some point, Will stole second base and her and James began a conversation around you. She called them niños and matched your grandfather in her personalized affection for them. You wondered if you should feel guilty for your lingering eyes on the son of the woman next to you, but she half encouraged it, telling you he got his legs from his padre.

When the opposing team was up a point, she muttered pobrecitos and grabbed your hand and prayed for Benny’s next hit.

You caught pieces of Frankie, in her. Or more accurately, you realized what parts of her he had grown into, and learned about his younger self from her eyes and her tone and her smile. Your poor grandfather was probably exhausted but you drank it in.

“Francisco was saving all his money from his work for the neighbors – his team was taking him to watch a game at this very stadium!” Without even looking she handed you a pastry, shaking sugar onto your lap until you took it. “But then his escuela collected donations for the orphanage. I told him, you know? I told him if he gave all his money I couldn’t help him, he wouldn’t get anything from the stadium.”

Her eyes were warm in yours and she squeezed your arm, trying to communicate her pride. “Mi frijol gave it all! And he did not even complain, not even once!” You smiled at her, trying to answer however you could that you understood. Maybe not completely but you saw how much he cared about other people, how hard he tried.

Around the eighth inning, she quieted, smiling gratefully when you produced an extra water bottle. Her hand was soft and maternal as it rubbed your shoulder, a foreign but pleasant feeling.

“His hermana tests him all the time,” she murmured, and you nodded cautiously. When she resolutely added, “You give him strength, hija,” you almost cried right there in the stands.

You settled for covering her hand with yours and squeezing back.

When they won, no one cheered louder, no one was prouder, but you and James gave it your best shot.

“So,” Frankie looked at you, his big brown eyes full of questions. Alone, you couldn’t resist him, much more when the rest of them matched his gaze.

You were all at Tom’s rental, unexpectedly. He didn’t tell anyone, but he had burst into Molly’s office, only to find it empty. It had bothered him, and when he was bothered, he took extra effort to pretend that he was not. The new opportunity to spend post-game evenings with decks of cards and childish snacks had already become the highlight to his friends, so he figured he could do that. Just a little bigger, a little better. And it’s not like any of you had enough information to say no.

The elders had long since gone home, and now they all wanted to know what secrets his mother had spilled about them.

You laughed at their faces, feeling a little devious with the power. Before giving anything up, you stuck your tongue out at Santi and meandered to the kitchen, feeling them watch you as your filled your champagne flute with apple juice.

“She didn’t say anything,” you said with exaggerated elegance, lounging against an unnecessary column.

The act broke when you had to dodge a pillow.

“Okay, okay,” you held up your free hand in surrender. You looked at your catcher with a wink before grinning almost maliciously at Santiago. “She told me she had to bring Santi socks twice last season, and one time she saw Benny eat a hot dog off the ground.”

They erupted in teasing and you waited for it to quiet a moment before you added, “And she shared that Tom,” you drew out his name for extra emphasis, “Goes to the same hairdresser as her, and she once threatened to dye Will’s pants pink for calling her ma’am one too many times.” The men were howling with laughter like they hadn’t since college, shoving each other and half tackling one another, shouting their defenses and stories alike.

When Frankie extracted himself he found you curled on the armrest of the couch, watching with amusement. His hair was messed up and his eyes crinkled in the corners. “What did she say about me?” he asked under the noise and he settled next to you, trying to be confidant as he wrapped his arm around you shoulders.

He liked that he could feel your shrug.

“That you’re practically perfect in every way,” you relaxed into him and it felt so natural he could hardly imagine it wasn’t always like this.

Francisco was spending his day off with his family, doing some projects around the home, but so it surprised you when your phone rang.

It surprised you even more that it was Benny, inviting you to lunch. Just to talk, I’m not being weird, he said, backpedaling when you teased him about being a little late to ask you on a date. Is that okay? He seemed just a little bit nervous, which made you laugh. Of course, you were more than happy to.

The longer you knew him, the more you understood why they all treated him like a little brother.

He was already at the restaurant – Thai food, his choice – as friendly and kind as the first time you had met him. Unlike then, you weren't even a little bit nervous sitting across from him, despite the glares of the women at an adjacent talking the two of you were still new friends, so it wasn’t quite effortless, by the made up for it with his genuine enthusiasm.

If he had something on his mind, he didn’t get to it right away, the first half of your lunch hour spent talking about you. For how loud his personality seemed sometimes, he was well spike and well mannered, and curious about almost everything. You checked the time, before finally asking if everything was okay with him, and the shortstop ran his fingers through his hair, looking past away.

His foot tapped on the rug, and you used your chopsticks to push your remaining food into a small mound in the middle of your plate.

“I’m paying, by the way,” you looked up, back into his eyes, your own eyebrows drawing together to shake your head.

“I owe you,” he defended himself before you could voice your dissent, and when he added, “for looking out for me,” you softened.

“Relationships aren’t transactional, Benjamin.” It was a gentle scold, true, but relenting.

Broad shoulders shrugged.

“Think of it as a thank you,” he said, and you let him talk. For all that his brother and the guys worried over him, he wasn’t as young and naïve as they thought of him. His eyes and ears were sharp and it’s not like he hadn’t heard the stories, seen what they were protecting him from.

“You help us look after each other,” it was almost like he rehearsed it, and his blue eyes confirmed he had been meaning to say this to you for awhile.

“And you look after me.” That nervousness from before came back, and you wondered if he still hadn’t quite gotten to the part he was meaning to say. Ben launched into a story in between flagging down the waiter and you let him pay, but even when the receipt came, he didn’t stand.

The story stuttered to a halt and you rested your chin in your palm.

“Will and Frankie have been talking about Tom – saying he’s been off.” It was abrupt, and you waited. He was restless, his habit of changing the topic becoming even more prominent. Both of you knew what he meant.

It was messy, hard, existing with them.

“Would you… will you stay?”

There was a burst of warmth in your chest, a wave of affection as if he confessed outright how much you mattered to them.

You stood, smiling and offering your hand, as if he needed help standing.

“Yeah, Ben, what are friends for?”

He looked so relieved that you hugged him. Although, you suspected he would’ve hugged you regardless, if you had given him a moment.

After work you had a voicemail and a text from your… from Francisco, and you drove over to his place. Walking up the stairs in the cooling evening air felt strange, like it was humming with potential.

He greeted you with slow kisses, his rough hands wandering your skin and clothes like he was still grasping that you were real. If you could’ve thought, you might’ve wondered why he called you over or looked around his apartment but it didn’t matter because all you could think of what him. The gentle scrape of the hairs on his face over your cheek, your neck, the needy pull of his fingers as he curled his fists into your outer layer.

His mouth, moving in ways you’d thought you’d never quite felt before, leaving you breathless.

It didn’t escalate, neither of you pushing for more, but when he finally moved away, he was pulling you onto the couch and under his arm.

“Hi,” he said, looking flushed and happy, despite the flash of anxiety in his eyes.

“Hi,” you figured you mirrored him, and you let out a rough cough of laughter.

Francisco joined, and your head found a rest on his shoulder, cheek squishing from the closeness. The tips of his fingers wandered over your skin, and it felt like a habit years in the making, to catch up with him about his day, his family. A stretch of silence followed, and your realized he was tired.

“I should probably make you dinner or something,” he whispered, almost to himself, dark eyebrows drawing together. Suddenly you felt shy, aching because you should’ve brought something, should cook or… he was the one who had a long day, but this was his home.

You had memorized the feeling of his hairs on your waist, and yet you didn’t know if he would be okay with you cooking in his home. Actually, you didn’t even know anything about his home.

Looking around, you compromised.

“I’m good, Frankie, I had a big lunch,” taking in the simple furniture and quickly cleaned surfaces, you didn’t notice his head tilt, shoulders rising slightly with tension until you looked back at him. The sweet man had realized he hadn’t heard about that part of your day yet but he didn’t want to pry.

“Benny got me thai food,” you offered, which only increased his distress. Your hand slipped into his as you explained.

“I think he’s just scared I’m not going to stick around,” you sighed, hoping he felt like that was as unlike as you did.

Against your head, you felt him nod, but he didn’t say anything for a moment.

“He’s right, though,” his voice seemed higher, as shy as you’d been a moment ago. “Things with us, with me are… a lot.”

As he always did, he was asking you more than you said, and you wanted to honor it so you though, really thought about what you were getting yourself into.

“Frankie, you told me you wanted me to be a part of your life,” you kissed the corner of his mouth, which pulled as he smiled hopefully. “I want that too, if you’ll be part of mine.”

A little rougher than they’d been before his hands tugged you into him, a solid kiss. No questions were buried in the touch, and it made you feel like you were floating.

Long moments later, you laughed a little, too warm to feel shy.

“Does this make me your novia?”

You weren't sure if the color on his cheeks was warming because of embarrassment that you caught the word in his mother’s talk, or because he hadn’t actually asked yet.

“Yeah,” a final kiss, on your forehead sealed the deal.

And when you moved away, it was to explore his kitchen for something to cook for the both of you.

translations:

pan dulce: pastries

niños: boys

padre: father

pobrecitos: poor babies

escuela: school

mi frijol: my bean

hermana: sister

hija: daughter

novia: girlfriend

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin @sarahjkl82-blog @pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @pjkimrn @dobbyjen @stuckontheceiling

edit: take 3 having tumblr save the taglist on this thing

#francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie x you #frankie x reader #catfish x you #triple frontier baseball au #hey batter batter #maybe i don't know people

56 notes · View notes

gukyi · 4 years

Text

good luck charm | kth

summary: kim taehyung has nearly everything he’s ever dreamed of: an apartment in new york city, a lead role in an off-broadway play, and a best friend to share it with. but even still, there’s one thing missing—love. and when he goes on the hunt for it, he dots every i and crosses every t, leaves no stone unturned, but forgets to look at the person who could ever love him the most: you.

{friends to lovers!au, roommates!au, actor!au}

pairing: kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff, angst, unrequited love word count: 11k a/n: a huge thank you to MK for commissioning me for this piece–i hope it’s everything you dreamed of!!!! these are tough times, but i hope this can serve as a distraction to everyone!! please stay safe and wash your hands! if you’re interested in commissioning me, check out this post! also, if the pictures are unclear, click on them for higher resolution!

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer.”

You see a tuft of purple hair sticking out behind a basket of orange pansies, two nimble hands with long fingers fiddling with the stems.

“I bet you say that to everyone,” you tease, as Namjoon peers out from where he’s hiding behind a shelf of flowers, greeting you with the same warm grin he always wears.

Namjoon pauses, gaze tilting upwards as he corrects himself, “my favorite customer who’s about to confess to her best friend of four years with a bouquet arranged by yours truly?”

You roll your eyes, thankful that there’s nobody else inside this little flower shop. Not that you seem to have an issue exposing your entire life story to certain strangers, especially if they’ve got dimples and colored hair to match. Namjoon has always been something of an exception—perhaps he is one of the closest friends you have here in the city, where everything moves so quickly you barely have time to say hello to a new acquaintance. Namjoon and his flower shop are a respite, a safe haven in a bustling world, where time always seems to move slower than it does outside.

“Don’t remind me, I’m sweating just thinking about it,” you tell him, trying to cover your nervousness with a laugh.

“Ah, well how could I forget, when you came to me to arrange the perfect bouquet for tonight?” Namjoon says. He chops a wilting flower from its stem and places it behind his ear. Even though it’s a little sadder, a little less lively than its comrades, the bright yellow of the primrose complements his hair nicely, making him look even more ethereal, magical, than he already does.

“Who else would I ask besides the best bouquet-maker in town?” You ask as Namjoon leads you to the counter, where various bouquets have been laid out in vases, ready for pick-up. It’s a secret garden here, all green and fresh and calm, a sharp contrast to the industrial machine outside.

Namjoon heads to the back, a room behind a little wooden door that’s the slightest bit too short for him, so he has to bend down to avoid hitting his head (he still hits his head rather frequently, though), as you breathe in the scents of the flowers surrounding you, the roses and the daisies and everything in between. It’s not much, but it does calm the thick beating of your heart ever so slightly, and that’s enough.

He emerges a minute or so later, banging his head on the way out. In his hands is one of the biggest bouquets you’ve ever laid eyes on, thick with some flowers you recognize but more you don’t. It’s breathtaking and gorgeous and impressive, all at once.

“Namjoon, you know that I didn’t ask for this many flowers,” you chide as he plops the bouquet down onto the counter, clicking away at the ancient cash register to his left.

“Consider it a good luck gift,” Namjoon tells you with a wink.

You sigh, pulling out your card to pay him. “I could use all of the luck I could get.” The likelihood of tonight going more right than wrong is miniscule. But what else can you do, besides try? “What do they all mean?”

“Well, the daffodils represent honesty and truth. The red carnations mean love, obviously. So do the chrysanthemums. The baby’s breath is just for decoration, but it also means everlasting love. The gardenias are for secret love. And the freesia is just because I thought it went well with the bouquet,” Namjoon says expertly, pointing to each one as he tells you what it means. “I don’t know if Taehyung’s super up with his flower meanings, but I think that even the gesture will say more than enough. But if he is, this is just a bonus.”

“I feel like it’s going to go really badly, is that wrong?” You say, the nerves overtaking you. You were hoping to just act calm and collected, thank Namjoon for the bouquet and be on with your lives, but even you can’t help but seek advice from him.

Namjoon lets out a laugh. “If you think it’s going to go so badly, why have you planned so much?” He poses. “It’s normal to be nervous about this sort of thing—what if I mess up, what if he doesn’t feel the same way, what if he rejects me—but I think that, deep down inside of you, there’s a part that thinks that it will all be worth it. And I don’t know, maybe I’m just a sucker for happy endings, but I think that that’s the most important. The part of you that doesn’t want to spend the rest of its life thinking about what might have been.” Namjoon’s phone lights up next to him, his lockscreen a picture of him and another boy, shorter, but with the same dyed hair. The two look so happy together. He gazes down at it, exhales, and shuts his phone off. “Just my two cents.”

“You’re wise beyond your years, Kim Namjoon,” you tell him with a smile. Maybe you are nervous about the what ifs, nervous that this whole thing could blow up in your face, but is it so naive of you to listen to that whisper in your heart? The one that says, maybe he feels the same? “I wish you’d take your own advice, sometimes.”

“It’s different,” Namjoon murmurs to himself. “He and I… this is all we’ll ever be.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” you tell him. You know the feeling. Perhaps, if tonight goes well, it will encourage him to give it a shot himself. “You never know.” Namjoon looks up at you, smile wide but eyes sad. There’s clearly something more that he isn’t mentioning, but you won’t push it. You get it. How could you not? “What if he does feel the same?”

The bell above the door rings on your way out, fingers clenching onto a bouquet, praying and wishing and dreaming that maybe this will all be worth it, in the end.

Something is up with Kim Taehyung.

When you return to your apartment, Kim Taehyung is slouched on your dinky loveseat, arm deep inside a six-month-old box of Frosted Flakes, as an episode of Jeopardy! plays on his laptop, his eyes empty and glazed over as he stares at Alex Trebek, wordless.

You nearly jump in shock, terrified that he’ll spot you and the enormous bouquet in your hands, terrified that he’ll ask you about it, terrified that your entire plan for tonight will get flushed down the toilet the moment you and him lock eyes. But it doesn’t, because Kim Taehyung doesn’t even acknowledge you when you walk in, for better or for worse, and you manage to stash the bouquet into a vase in your bedroom before rounding on your roommate, because something is up with Kim Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung hates Frosted Flakes. The only reason they’re in your apartment to begin with is because Jungkook had brought them over one time when he was visiting, and even then they were stale. Now they’re extra stale. So stale that they make a hollow sound on your countertop when you tap them against the laminate.

Kim Taehyung normally shuffles through Jeopardy! like it’s nobody’s business. He gets at least a quarter, if not half of the questions correct, and always earns more points than you. But he doesn’t even open his mouth when Alex Trebek says, “This Renaissance artist left Florence to serve as principal engineer for the Duke of Milan’s army” and you know that he knows it’s Leonardo Da Vinci.

Kim Taehyung normally has plenty to say, especially to Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip, who currently resides in your living room. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip has been your honorary second roommate ever since the two of you moved into this apartment four months ago. Taehyung made him a little museum placard that is framed and hanging on the wall above him, and he has an account on every social media website under the sun. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip has more followers on Instagram than you do. But today, both he and Sawyer are silent and unmoving.

“Tae?” You ask, treading over to the couch as he empties the box of Frosted Flakes into his stomach, finishing up the episode. “Is everything alright?”

“Mmrph,” he mumbles in response. You suppose that means he said fine, which means that no, everything is not alright.

“What’s going on? You’re normally really excited the day of your shows,” you ask. At least he hasn’t entirely turned into a soulless hermit, and he moves his legs off of the couch so you can sit beside him. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Taehyung says, louder. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s going to go really badly, is that wrong?”

You smile softly, shaking your head as you reach a hand out, letting it rest in his lap before he takes your hand in his. “No, it’s not. Tonight’s a big deal, isn’t it? You must be under a lot of pressure to do well.”

“I’m just so worried that I’ll fuck it up and everyone will hate me forever,” Taehyung says, exasperated. It’s almost as if he’s tired with himself for being so negative.

“You’re not gonna fuck it up and nobody is going to hate you. I’ll always love you, you know that,” you assure him.

“Yeah, I know,” Taehyung says, but the worst part is that you’re not sure if he really does.

“It’s okay to be nervous, and to worry. Tonight is really important. But you’re an incredible actor, and you’ve always been so good at what you do,” you tell him, thumb rubbing against the back of his hand softly. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”

Taehyung lets his head rest on your own and the two of you sit together on the couch in silence, watching as the minutes on his laptop clock tick by. You can hear his heartbeat, steady and soft, firm underneath his chest. You wonder if he can hear yours. Hear how it’s picking up speed, hear how it beats only for him.

“You always know what to say,” Taehyung tells you. “I wish I knew how to do that.”

You grin sadly to yourself, happy that the two of you are side by side so he doesn’t have to see your face. How could Taehyung tell you something like that? How could he, when every time you’re near him, you’re speechless?

You never really considered yourself to be a theater person when you were younger. You would fall asleep when you went to see plays with your parents or on a school field trip. You never made an effort to go see the performances that your school put on. You were one-hundred percent confident that you would go through all four years of university without seeing one of the fifteen different theater groups’ shows, not because you hated them, but because they never crossed your mind in the first place.

And then, you met Kim Taehyung.

You met Kim Taehyung halfway through your freshman year because the two of you were in the same Cinematography in the 1900’s class. And then, suddenly, you were eating the same shitty food in the dining hall after class ended at seven in the evening. And then, suddenly, you were studying together, spending nights watching Jeopardy! on his laptop when you didn’t feel like doing any work. And then, suddenly, Kim Taehyung mentioned in passing one day that he had a show that Friday, and would you like to come, it would really mean a lot to him, he thinks you’ll really like it.

And then, suddenly, you were a theater person.

That night was the first night Kim Taehyung had ever taken your breath away. And every performance, every night, every fucking moment after that, he never stopped.

Tonight is no exception. You can’t say that you’re super well-versed in theater fame and its technicalities, but you think that this may just be Taehyung’s best performance yet. Here, in this theater off of Sixth Avenue, to a crowd of two, perhaps three hundred people, Taehyung is nothing short of amazing. He never is. From the moment he steps on stage in a raggedy old flannel and jeans, eyes wide with dreams, he reels you in and makes sure that you won’t leave this theater, won’t leave here unscathed. But the fatal blow is halfway through, when he finally spots you in the third row, sees you staring up at him in wonder, and he smiles.

There is so much that you wish you could tell him.

After the show, you race back to your apartment, desperate to finish up the last of the preparations before he arrives, after taking off all of his makeup and his costumes, saying goodbye to all of his co-stars. Normally, you’d hang around, let him introduce you, but tonight is different. Special.

[September 8th, 9:35PM]

You: Had to go home bc I’m planning a special something for the star of the night! Sorry I missed all of the fun afterwards You: Something very important to tell you

Taehyung: ohoho Taehyung: I wonder who that could be Taehyung: Coming soon. I have something to tell you too! ^^

You stare at the text as you grab the vase of flowers from your room, setting it up at your very unimpressive kitchen table. What could Taehyung possibly have to tell you? Other than perhaps a thanks for showing up (as if you weren’t going to).

What if, that voice whispers. The part deep in your heart, the one that you wish would shut up sometimes.

“No,” you say aloud, perhaps more for yourself than anyone else. “No. I have something to tell him. I have to tell him this.”

You never know, she says. He might. What are you waiting for?

You pull out all of the scented candles in the apartment, setting them up on the coffee table and on the windowsills. There’s a plate of macarons that you had purchased from the fancy bakery in Midtown sitting by the vase, a little treat for the two of you since your diets usually consist of premade Costco pasta and takeout.

There is so much you want to tell him. So much to say, and no way to do it. It seems impossible. As the minutes tick by, as he gets closer and closer, you wonder if you even have the courage to open your mouth. It’s not as if this is life-changing news. It would be so easy, so easy to just pretend that this is nothing but a celebration of Taehyung’s very first major off-Broadway show, to push down the ache in your heart and tell that voice to stay quiet, if only for a little longer. You’ve lived like this for so long already. Who’s to say you can’t live like this forever?

Taehyung comes home as you’re flicking through late-night television show reruns and fiddling with a Rubix cube, anything to keep your mind occupied and your fingers busy. You hear as he fumbles with the lock—his key has always been a little bit off—and scramble to get everything ready, shutting your laptop and putting the Rubix cube on your designated Weird Stuff Shelf. The apartment smells like a hodgepodge of vanilla, flowers, cinnamon, and champagne, and the flowers are already starting to wilt slightly. But it’s now or never, really.

Taehyung swings the door open with a grin and gasps in excitement when he sees you, standing in the hazy, flickering yellow light of the kitchen, surrounded by candles, with a plate of macarons and a vase of flowers on the table.

“Oh my God!” He says, overjoyed, high off of the adrenaline from a successful show, eyes still sparking from the spotlight. “Y/N! What is all of this?”

“Just a little something from me to you,” you say awkwardly. You have no idea how to tell him. You’re not sure if you even will. “To celebrate.”

“Dare I say, this apartment has never looked better,” he tells you, beaming. He walks over to where you’re hovering by the kitchen table, knee deep in it all, admiring the sight before him. He leans over you, ever so slightly, as he takes in the scent of the flowers, the macarons sitting before him. And then he turns to you, the glow from the candles making his eyes warm and caramel-y, almost as if they’re shimmering in the light, and he says, “You did all of this for me?”

“Of course,” you tell him, because you would do this again and again if it means you could see him like this. If you could watch him burst through the front door for the rest of your goddamn life, watch as he comes home to you. “Tonight’s special.”

“It wouldn’t be without you,” he tells you honestly, candidly. He tells you that because he means it. You wish you could say the same things to him. “You’re my best friend, Y/N.”

It’s now or never. If he takes one step closer, turns to look at you one more time, you don’t know if you’ll still have the courage. You don’t know if you even have it right now, but tomorrow, when you wake up, you don’t want to regret this night. You don’t want to wonder what if, what might have been. You’ve been friends for so long. Who’s to say you can’t be more than that?

“I have something to tell you,” you breathe out, words heavy on your tongue. You can feel your heart seize up, almost like it’s holding its breath with you.

“Right, you said that,” Taehyung says with a nod, stuffing a cherry macaron into his mouth. “I have something to tell you, too.”

“Do you want to go first?” You ask him. You just need a little more time. You just want to hear his voice once more.

“Okay,” Taehyung says happily. “I got a girlfriend!”

Oh.

Well.

Okay.

“Really?” You ask, trying to make it sound more like a Really? That’s great! and not a Really? I thought that we had something special. You don’t think that you’re doing a very good job.

“Yeah!” Taehyung says. He’s ecstatic. It tears your heart in two. “I mean, I know I’m just… a super, hopeless romantic and I fall in love with people when they hold the door open for me, but I’m really happy with her. It’s Ariel, actually, she played Lucy! Isn’t it funny how even though our characters never even officially met, we still found something there?”

“Yeah,” you say, emotionless. Taehyung is far too excited, far too joyous to notice.

“I just—I wanted to tell you, because you’re my best friend and you deserve to know,” he says, breaking off half of the raspberry macaron and holding it out to you. “What did you want to tell me? Did you say it was important?”

“Oh, uh…” you fumble, shaking your head at the macaron. Your stomach has never felt smaller. It’s like there’s nothing left to say to him. “I think I’m getting transferred to another office.” It’s not news. Your job told you that last week. But it’s something, and it’s better than being honest. Anything is, at this point. “They might pay a little more.”

“Yay!” Taehyung says. “That’s great! Now, maybe we can fix up the lights in the kitchen. So they don’t read horror movie every time I try to make pasta at 2AM. I’m happy for you, you deserve it!”

You smile, putting on a brave face, just for him. “Me too.” You can’t muster up the strength to say anything else.

Taehyung spends the rest of the night gobbling down the macarons and telling you all about Ariel, as you try desperately to tune him out. Even the sound of your own thoughts would be better than this. Anything. Anything. Eventually, after it’s long past midnight and Taehyung realizes he’ll need his sleep for the show tomorrow night, he bids you goodbye and sets off to his room, a bounce in his step.

You stand in the middle of your apartment. Even though it’s small, and even though you have him, it’s never felt emptier.

Namjoon always says that flowers don’t just need food and water to stay happy. They need love, they need to be surrounded by happiness. He says that they can feel it, that they react to it. That’s why he always tries to be happy when he’s working. Because he hates seeing the flowers so sad. He says they remind him of himself.

It’s no wonder why the flowers in the vase look even more wilted than before.

Here’s the thing: You had pretty much always known that it was going to hurt like this. There had always been that part of you, deep down inside, that knew that there was no way it wasn’t going to hurt like this. That knew that there was nothing you could do to stop it from hurting like this.

And still, foolishly so, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, telling him would make it stop. You gave into this fantasy that, even if he didn’t feel the same, even if he let you down easy, even if he told you that he just wanted to be friends, it would be better.

That’s the worst part of it all, really. The fact that you never even told him. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t. You never told him, and now, somehow, everything is even worse than before.

The flowers have long been thrown out by now, tossed out after hardly a week, unable to stand the tension in the air, the emptiness that lingered far beyond that night. Still, you remembered to keep one, plucking it from the vase before it died of secondary sadness. Because even if they hurt you, even if they tear at your heartstrings one by one, you’ve always had this terrible habit of never letting go of what you love. You pressed the flower with an old college textbook, placed it into a thin little vase, meant for one flower only. A red carnation, to remind you of what you could have had. What might have been.

Kim Taehyung is significantly less worried this time around as he prepares for the opening night of his latest play. He wakes up early and does some yoga in the living room, pushing all of the furniture to the walls so he has enough space to Downward Dog in peace. He watches a couple episodes of Jeopardy! as he eats the Pad Thai he Doordashed to your apartment, and gets half of the questions correct. Even from your bedroom, you can hear him talking to Sawyer.

“I’m excited for tonight, Sawyer,” he says to him. “I don’t know, last time I did Shakespeare was sophomore year in college, I think? I was Mercutio. It was fun and I got to use a sword. Y/N came to that show, too. I annoyed her so much that night that she told me that she was glad Tybalt killed me, but we had a good time anyway.”

Sawyer doesn’t say anything back, because he is a Suspicious Floor Dip in your living room. But it’s so lovely to hear Taehyung’s voice again.

“Do you think that Y/N’s been acting weird, lately?” Taehyung asks. “I just feel like—I feel like she and I aren’t as close these days. She works in her room a lot more and some days I don’t see her at all. Which is crazy, because we live together. My ex always said it was a little weird how I lived with my best friend who is also a girl. But I don’t think it is. Do you think I did something wrong?”

No, you wish you could say, leaning against your thin bedroom door as you hear Taehyung wonder aloud. Never, in a million years. It was me, you want to tell him. I got my hopes up and now I’m paying the price. It’s not you. It’s never you.

“Yeah, I guess she’s just busier these days,” Taehyung says with a sigh. “She did get transferred to that new office a couple of months ago. But she’s still my best friend. I’ll never stop telling her that—she deserves to know that no matter what, she always has me.”

“Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Therapist, huh?” You interrupt, finally getting the nerve to open your door. Taehyung’s on his way out, all dressed, backpack on his shoulder. He has to be at the theater a few hours before the show begins, anyway.

“He’s just so easy to talk to,” Taehyung jokes. “Did you… uh… did you hear that?”

“The part about being your best friend?” You ask with an eyebrow raise, making Taehyung smile. You don’t mention the other things you heard. You don’t think that would make things better.

(You’re not sure what will, at this point. Telling him is off the table. You distantly wonder if it was ever on the table to begin with.)

“Just making sure you knew,” Taehyung says with a grin. “Don’t want you forgetting about that.”

“How could I?” You muse, and it makes him smile something fierce and makes you wish that things were different.

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Taehyung says. He must know the answer, already.

“Of course I am,” you tell him. “Who do you take me for?”

“I’ll look for you in the crowd, okay?” Taehyung says, a hand on the doorknob as he gets ready to leave. “Keep an eye out for me. Promise?”

It’s always been so hard to say no to him.

“Promise,” you tell him.

That night, you sit a little further back, shadowed by the mezzanine above you, but Taehyung finds you anyway. As he schmoozes his way through the storyline on stage, he sends a wink your way, a couple of the girls in the row in front of you giggling to each other when he does. You sort of wish he was really winking at them. That way, it would hurt a little less.

Afterwards, you linger around in the lobby, waiting for him like you always have, like you always do, like you always will. You don’t have anything special waiting for him back at your apartment. There’s nothing left to tell him.

You spot his head of soft, wavy brown hair far before he spots you, can make it out in a sea of cast members as they cheer for themselves, celebrating another successful opening show. Your face lights up when you see him, when you see that he sees you. This is how it has always been. This is how it should be—you find each other in the crowd, grinning as you congratulate him, as he introduces you to his cast members and then invites you to the afterparty. You spend the night together, high off of the adrenaline and just a little tipsy, before stumbling back to your apartment, basking in the afterglow.

You want nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were.

And then, you see her.

“Y/N!” Taehyung shouts excitedly, and it takes all of your strength to not let your face fall as she comes into view, hand interlaced with Taehyung’s. “I knew you’d be here!”

“How could I not be?” You say, letting Taehyung wrap you in a one-armed hug rather than two. “You know me.”

“This is my girlfriend,” Taehyung introduces proudly, motioning to the pretty girl beside him as she waves at you good-naturedly. “Madison, this is my roommate and college best friend, Y/N.”

“Taehyung talks about you non-stop,” Madison says with a smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the love of your life’s new girlfriend? How else can you salvage this conversation when you already see it going terribly? “You both were really good tonight. I’m happy that I came.”

“Me too!” Taehyung grins. “Did you see me wink at you? I promised you I would.”

You nod, eyes desperately scanning the rest of the room, the rest of the people, the floor, anything to keep from watching as Madison drapes herself over Taehyung, intertwines their hands as she leans against him, like she can’t get enough of him.

“Hey, do you want to come to the afterparty? It’s at Alex’s house, apparently he has this brownstone in Brooklyn all to himself, I’ve heard it’s gorgeous—”

“No, actually, I have a lot of work that I need to catch up on,” you interrupt. You don’t think you’d last five minutes there, where the only person you know is Taehyung, where he’s got a girlfriend on his arm the entire time. You aren’t even sure how you’re faring now, if you’re even breathing, standing before him and his equally-gorgeous new partner.

You just wish everything could go back to normal.

Taehyung’s brows furrow, disappointed. “Oh, you do? But—”

“Yeah, I’m just—I’m really sorry, Tae, you know I want to. But I should get going. It was really nice meeting you, Madison, I hope we can see each other again sometime—” You spew out a few more goodbyes and even more apologies as you rush towards the exit, turning away so you don’t have to see Taehyung calling after you.

On the way back, you bump into Namjoon, who’s closing up shop for the day. He looks positively exhausted, always working diligently from morning to far past sunset every day, but he smiles when he sees you, setting aside his tired eyes to say hello.

“Hey, Y/N, fancy seeing you here,” he greets. “How are you? How’d it go?” He gives you a sort of grin that means that he thinks it went super well.

“Not great,” you tell him truthfully, because it’s late and you don’t feel like hiding things anymore.

“Oh,” Namjoon says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you can see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he thinks that none of the things he has to say will go down very well. You know the feeling. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, even though it’s not. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Namjoon asks solemnly.

You frown. “Do you really think we should both be having this conversation?” Namjoon has his own secrets, his dreams of a short boy with colored hair by his side. “You aren’t much better.”

“No, I’m not,” he muses to himself. “But it is a big deal, Y/N. Please don’t act like it isn’t. You love him, don’t you? Even if he doesn’t love you back.”

You love him.

It’s not a secret anymore.

You love him like the stars love the moon, surrounding her in their light, making sure she never gets lonely. You love him like an old Hollywood movie, film faded and worn, getting played once in a while to make sure you never forget where you started. You love him like a flower, carnations, daffodils, chrysanthemums, perking up when you’re around him and wilting when you’re not.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say with a sigh. Certainly, there are more important things to dwell on. You’re looking for a new job because being an office temp isn’t exactly what you were envisioning for your life. You want to start fixing up the bathroom, because the grout by the shower is starting to disintegrate. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip is a fire hazard. “I’m okay with just being friends.”

Namjoon smiles, and it’s so sad, but not with pity. It’s sad with I know, and sad with feeling, because he gets it, and that must be why you’re here, standing on the sidewalk at ten on a Friday night, underneath the street lamps as the city begins to open its eyes. “But when you have him the way you do, how can you be okay with any of it?”

Taehyung comes home late that night, and you only know because you’re running to the bathroom at the same time he fumbles with the door. He takes longer than usual, which means he’s drunk, and you can only hope and pray that he’s alone. You watch as he finally manages to unlock the door, stumbling inside, managing to turn on the main overhead lights in your apartment as he does. From where you’re peering at him from the darkness of the hallway, you can make out dark red, purple spots all along his skin.

You pull the bathroom door almost shut, leaving it a little ajar so you can gaze out at him, watch as he pours himself a glass of water and downs the entire thing before he makes his way to the hallway, heading for his bedroom. From here, you see the way his hair is mussed, all fucked up from someone’s hands in it, see the marks up close, the way they line his neck, his jaw, his collarbones. He finds his way to his bedroom and shuts the door behind him as you stand, trapped in the bathroom, mad at him for not knowing but furious at yourself for being so ridiculous.

Love was never supposed to hurt like this.

The next time that you attend one of Taehyung’s opening nights, you don’t stick around long afterwards.

You were planning on it, of course, like you always do, because ever since college you’ve made a point to see him after a show, tell him all of the things you wish you could say to him all of the time, you were amazing, you were brilliant, you were perfect in every way. You even have a small bouquet of flowers in your hands, arranged by none other than Namjoon—a pity bouquet, an I hope that you two can still be friends bouquet—ready to give to him, ready to see them sitting on your kitchen table as a reminder.

And then, you see the way he kisses her, overcome with joy, running on that post-show high. You see the way he pulls her into him and plants one on her, arms wrapped around each other as they celebrate, in their own special way.

Suddenly, the flowers feel like dead weight in your hands.

You manage to catch one of the few co-stars of Taehyung’s that you recognize, one who was in Our Lives with him. His name is Seokjin, and he’s gorgeous. Broadway material. Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony material. He stops to say hello to you, and you ask if he could give the bouquet to Taehyung, tell him it was from you.

Seokjin’s nice. He doesn’t ask why, he just nods. It saves you the trouble of telling him. Nobody wants to listen to your sob story. He says goodbye to you, and that he hopes to see you again soon. You hope so too.

You spend the night curled up in your room pretending that everything is fine. You don’t see Taehyung when he comes home, and you don’t see him the next day, either.

It’s not as if you’ve started to avoid Taehyung entirely. You live together—it would be downright impressive if you didn’t see each other for a whole day. It’s just, sometimes he still—

“Y/N? Wanna order Pad Thai?”

“Hey, Y/N, they’re playing The Devil Wears Prada on Freeform, do you want to come watch with me?”

“Central Park is having a Dog Festival, do you wanna go together?”

And sometimes, you just can’t. The thought of spending time with him makes your heart ache, whether it be from not wanting to be too close, or from missing him terribly. Either way, you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to muster up the same courage you once had.

Turning to look at the pressed carnation in the vase atop your dresser, you laugh to yourself. It’s hard to believe that just a few months ago you thought that you would finally be able to tell him, to open up your heart and let him look into it like a kaleidoscope. Hard to believe that there was once a time when you thought that maybe, just maybe, he loved you back. It feels like it was eons ago. Like it was another universe entirely.

You know that it’s not right for you to do this to Taehyung. He’s still your best friend. He always will be. He has no idea. He’ll never know.

But sometimes—

Sometimes he comes home love drunk, wasted on kisses, splotches of pink lip gloss decorating his skin.

Sometimes he spends dinner telling you all about the date he went on, the amazing vodka shrimp linguine he had, as the two of you eat Kirkland spaghetti in your dinky apartment.

Sometimes he tells you that you’re his best friend, and that he misses you.

Being in love with Taehyung had always been easy. It was being best friends, and making sure to keep the feelings a secret, that was hard.

Taehyung isn’t home tonight. You hadn’t asked him where he’d be. You didn’t think that it mattered.

And you tell yourself, over and over again, that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t need to know where he is every second of every day. He’s got a life outside of what exists in your stuffy apartment, a whole world of people craning to see him. He has reviews written about him in The New York Times and people lining up outside the theater for his autograph on their Playbill. There’s so much more to his life than what he has with you.

It’s better this way, you tell yourself, even if it’s not. Even if every time you step into your apartment, glance over at the vase on the kitchen table, you are reminded that it’s worse. Every time you see a damn carnation, daffodil, chrysanthemum, you can’t help but wish that things were different. You’re even starting to avoid Namjoon.

That night finds you at a small Italian restaurant in a tiny alley off of Ninth Street. You’ve never been, but it had good reviews on Yelp and you could do with spending some time alone, wallowing in your feelings somewhere other than your bedroom. You’re starting to feel suffocated just being there. It would be good for you to get out.

It would be good for you to get out, because the apartment reeks of what ifs, of what could have beens, and you can’t spend more than five minutes inside without throwing yourself your own personal pity party. You hardly see Taehyung nowadays because you can’t bear looking into his eyes anymore. Everything is awful, and you wish that it wasn’t, but you don’t know what to do to fix it.

But Fate seems to love doing that thing where it’s out to get you. From the moment you met Kim Taehyung, Fate decided that you would be her next target. That no moment with him would leave you unscathed. And tonight is no exception.

It’s just your luck that, ten minutes after you’re seated, the bell above the door rings to signal another customer, and you look up to see Taehyung and his girlfriend strolling in, glowing under the warm yellow light. You’ve never been more thankful, in that moment, to be seated right beside the bathroom, just out of sight of the booth that the hostess leads them to. It’s terrible, and it’s terrible, and it’s terrible. You watch as they order two glasses of a fancy rosé and giggle as they cheers to their show, to their lives, and to themselves. They spend the evening in the light of a single exposed bulb above their head, laughing and smiling and talking.

The craziest part is that once upon a time, that would have been you. You and Taehyung would have decided that the night was a restaurant day and not a stay-at-home-and-cook-meal day. You would have found a quaint little place on Yelp and gotten the cheapest food on the menu. Once upon a time, you looked like that.

[April 17th, 7:34PM]

Taehyung: [image sent] Taehyung: MMMMM look at this yummy yummy fish that I had tonight!! Taehyung: We should go here sometime!! I think you’d like it hehe

You look down at your plate. The food in front of you tastes like ash.

“Congrats,” you say when you hear Taehyung leaving his bedroom, feet padding against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“Huh?” Taehyung asks, eyes wide. It’s almost as if he’s surprised to see you out here, sitting on the couch, answering emails. Like he can’t believe you’re in your own home. You can’t blame him. “What are you talking about?”

“The review on The New York Times,” you tell him distantly, switching over to the tab on your computer where you read it. There’s a picture at the top of Taehyung and his co-star, front and center, holding hands as they look off into the distance, staring into an unknown future. “It’s your first five star review, isn’t it? They even listed it as the Critic’s Pick.”

“Oh, I… uh,” he begins, “I haven’t seen it yet. Been too busy.”

Bitterly, you wonder why. Even when you two are further apart than you have ever been, even when he spends all day out of the apartment and you spend all day inside, even when you barely fucking see each other, you can’t help but click on the articles that mention him, scroll through every review that mentions his name.

Things might be different now, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t be proud of him. Of what he does. Of who he is.

“Well, they said great things,” you tell him, sparing him the trouble of looking. “You deserve it.”

“You’re coming tonight, right? You have to, if the play is getting such good reviews,” Taehyung asks, an olive branch. You’ve spent so much time doing everything you can to keep your relationship as distant as possible, hiding in your bedroom and eating dinner at odd hours. But this is the one thing that you both can still hold onto. Taehyung’s shows, his performances, and you, in the audience, always finding his eyes. If everything else is in shambles, at least you will always have this. “I think you’d like it.”

“It sounds very Matrix-y.”

“Well,” Taehyung says, shrugging. “It sort of is. But it’s also about love. You’d like that, right?”

You suppose you’d like it a little more in another timeline.

Taehyung continues, barely giving himself time to catch his breath. “Basically, these two kids are playing this life-simulation game where every move they make directly corresponds with the actions of the characters they’re playing as. Cue me and Lancaster. And we meet, and slowly fall in love, over a series of chance encounters. You know, a coffee shop, the bank, a restaurant.”

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowed.

“Why?” Taehyung’s eyes widen in concern, smile downturned ever so slightly as he takes in your expression.

“I don’t know—” you begin. There’s just something about the storyline that rubs you the wrong way. “Maybe I’m just being cynical. But is it really possible for two people to find love like that? Through chance? Luck?”

Perhaps, Namjoon would say. You can hear his voice echoing in your head now. After all, wasn’t it luck that brought the two of you together?

You shake his thoughts away. Namjoon’s got his own set of problems—he’s in no position to be the wise one in this scenario.

Taehyung shrugs, as if he’d never given that a thought to begin with. “I don’t know,” he says. “I think that love can blossom anywhere. Just so long as you nurture it, water it and give it lots of sunlight. I just—I think that if you look hard enough, you can find love anywhere.”

You turn to face him, blinking up at him as you stare at each other, sitting on this damn couch in the middle of your apartment. Taehyung waxes poetic in front of you, tells you that if you just fucking look for love, you’ll find it. But he doesn’t know—and he never will. You’ve been looking for love for the past four years, you’ve been searching in all of the nooks and crannies of your body, and the only place you’ve ever found it has been in the deep pit of your heart, dusty and quiet and forgotten. Even now, staring into his eyes, scanning every bit of his irises for even a sliver of it, a spark, you come up empty.

How could he say something like that, when he lives with you? When he looks at you while you’re eating takeout or sitting and watching a movie together. Does he just not see it? Or worse—does he know, and just refuse to say anything?

Suddenly, your body turns cold. It’s hard to believe that someone as hopelessly romantic can’t see what’s right in front of him.

“I wish that was how it worked,” you say sourly, the words leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. You snatch your laptop from the table and head into your room, leaving Taehyung alone on the couch, speechless.

He may be the one with flowers blooming in his heart, but you have been drowning for the past four years, and never have you felt further from the surface than right now.

You don’t go to Taehyung’s opening show that night.

Taehyung leaves to get ready at the theater at three in the afternoon, and you bid him goodbye before holing yourself up in your bedroom and keeping yourself busy. You start watching the newest season of Stranger Things and tidy up the knick knacks you have scattered all over the place. Anything to keep your mind occupied.

Taehyung texts you during intermission.

[June 3rd, 8:55PM]

Taehyung: Hey are you here?

You don’t respond.

By ten at night, you end up with the cleanest room you’ve had in years and half of the season left to watch. It’s not a great kind of busy. The red carnation atop your dresser stares into your soul and you nearly throw it out three different times. But it’s an okay kind of busy, because you don’t know if you could have beared to see Taehyung on stage tonight. See him dancing around with a beautiful girl on his arm, confessing his love for her and pulling her in for a kiss.

Over the years, you have seen Taehyung kiss so many people. From the shy freshman boy cast next to him in a student-written play in college to the model-esque women on stage in an off-Broadway play with him. And it never used to hurt—not like this. You saw him lock lips with another and you supposed that that was just show business.

But it’s not show business anymore. It stopped being show business that night, when he came home to an apartment lit up with candles, the sweet scent of macarons wafting through the air, and told you he had found someone. It hasn’t been show business since, not when Taehyung is looking for love and finds it everywhere except where you wish he would look most.

Maybe you’re just being selfish. Taehyung doesn’t have to love you for you to love him. You knew that. You lived with that. He’s your best friend. He always will be. You can’t do anything to force him to love you back. You had always been fine with just being friends.

But just—knowing that he doesn’t feel the same. Having that certainty rooted deep within you. That’s the part that hurts the most.

Taehyung comes home earlier than he normally would on a day like this, catching you in the kitchen as you brew some chamomile tea, hoping that it will calm the waves that crash against the pier inside you. You turn to meet his eyes, and suddenly, you feel like you can’t see anything in them at all.

“Why didn’t you come tonight?” He demands. “I looked for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“Here,” you tell him. “I was thinking maybe I would go tomorrow.”

“But you’re always at my opening show,” Taehyung says, like you don’t know that already. “Why didn’t you come? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” you tell him. You don’t think you’re drunk or tired enough for this conversation. At ten at night, you’re still cognizant, aware of what consequences this conversation might have when you wake up in the morning.

“Then why weren’t you there? You know I need you there,” Taehyung pleads, coming up to you as you stand in your kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil.

“No, I didn’t know that,” you tell him firmly. You went to his opening shows because it was tradition. Not because it was necessary.

“You’re my good luck charm, for god’s sake, Y/N,” Taehyung says, fists curled up at his sides. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to burst at the seams, like there are so many things he’s holding at the tip of his tongue. “I did such a shit job tonight without you there. I spent the entire first half of the show looking out into the crowd so much that Lancaster asked me if I had taken anything before we started.”

“That’s not my fault,” you tell him. “I didn’t know that you thought I was your good luck charm, or whatever.” And, because you’re bitter and petty and heartbroken, you add, “I would have thought that would be something your girlfriend is.”

Taehyung loses it. “What’s been going on with you, Y/N? Why are you being like this? Ever since my first show, I feel like we’re drifting further and further apart. You never want to spend time with me, you never want to come to my afterparties, you barely spare a glance at my girlfriends when I introduce them to you, and now, you’ve stopped coming to my shows. All of these things that I thought that we shared, ever since college. Tell me, Y/N, am I doing something wrong? Is there something that I’ve missed? Because it feels like we’re fucking strangers.”

The water finishes boiling, the kettle whistling on the stovetop as steam billows from the spout. “I’m not obligated to do any of those things, Taehyung,” you tell him harshly. “Just because we did them in college doesn’t mean I have to keep doing them now. What, did you think we’d still be doing that sort of stuff when we’re thirty? Forty, fifty? They were just college traditions.”

“‘College traditions’?” Taehyung asks, astounded. “Were all of those nights that we spent together just college traditions, too? Are we not allowed to do those things anymore? I miss you, Y/N. I hate not having you around and tonight was the worst it’s ever been. I don’t know what to do or say, I don’t know how to fix this, I don’t even fucking know what’s broken.”

“I just need space, Taehyung,” you tell him, hands gripping the edge of the countertop as you stare at the laminate, eyes tracing the lines to keep you from meeting his own. “I just need some time to myself, that’s all.”

“But why, Y/N?” Taehyung pleads, He reaches over to grab your hand, holds it in between the two of you like a lifeline.

“‘Why?’” You echo angrily. “You don’t know? You can’t tell? We’ve known each other for four years and you haven’t realized?” You tug your hand from his grasp. It’s clear you’re beating a dead horse. You wonder why you even tried in the first place. How naive you were, standing in the kitchen surrounded by scented candles and flowers and macarons, dreaming of a life with him by your side. Foolish.

“Realized what?”

“That I’m in love with you!” You shout, and the world goes silent. The kettle stops whistling, the water having evaporated into nothing, the packet of chamomile tea left, forgotten on the countertop. You stand there, breaths heavy, chest heaving, as you look at Taehyung, angry and mad and in love, all at once.

“You’re what?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” you hiss. “I already know that you don’t feel the same.”

“Y/N, wait—”

“Goodnight, Taehyung.” You turn on your heels, storming into your bedroom and collapsing against the door. Finally, finally, finally, you let the tears wrack your body, sending shivers down your spine. There’s salt on your tongue and smudged liner beneath your eyes.

You thought pressing flowers makes them last forever. But even the red carnation is starting to shrivel.

Subject Title: New Project????

From Park, Seojoon, to me

Hi Taehyung,

You did a great job last night in Chance Card! Really proud of you for accomplishing so much. Pretty soon you’ll be on Broadway and be too big for a small manager like me. You’ll need an agent, and a publicist, and a stylist, and a dog-walker…

Anyway, just emailing to let you know that Hugo Cleveland reached out to me to see if you were interested in auditioning for his next play. He personally wanted to see if you liked the part, and would give you preference if you did want to audition. It’s called Cupid, and it’s another one of those modern-day retellings of an old tale. I thought you might like it. Attached is the script and a short description of the play. Let me know if you’d like to give it a shot! I think this might be the project that gets you onto Broadway!!

As always, contact me if you need anything at all.

Park

Taehyung, still in bed despite it being nearly noon, taps around on his phone, pulling up the description of the play. He hates reading PDFs on his phone, so he’ll check out the script on his laptop later.

Cupid by Hugo Cleveland

Cupid chronicles the tale of the world’s most well known hopeless romantic—Cupid himself. Set in a world of magical realism, Cupid has the power to make two people fall in love with a single shot of his arrow, and spends his life walking around the city of New York, bow and arrow by his side.

The only problem is that Cupid has no way to make people fall in love with him, because his magic operates under the assumption of soulmates—a single person meant for another. And as the years have gone by, he has searched and searched and searched over millennia, desperate to find love, but it’s almost as if everyone has soulmates except for him.

Little does he know, he need look no further to find the person he shall spend the rest of his life with—not when his best friend has always been by his side.

Taehyung glares at the description like it’s personally offended him. He knows that it’s just a coincidence that he happens to receive this email the morning after his fight with you, but he can’t help but feel like God is playing the world’s worst practical joke on him.

Cursed with the memory of an actor, he replays last night in his head over and over and over again, looping the feed back and forth as your words echo in his mind.

You don’t know? You can’t tell? We’ve known each other for four years and you haven’t realized?

He never knew what he was supposed to be looking for. You were just friends, you had always been just friends. But then he looked out in the crowd and couldn’t see you anywhere, couldn’t make out your eyes even in a sea of hundreds like he always does, and it felt like there was more than just another audience member missing. He spent the rest of the evening getting his hopes up, thinking that maybe you’re just sitting somewhere else, maybe you put in colored contacts, maybe you’re hidden by some really buff guy in front of you.

He missed you, last night. He’s been missing you a lot recently, missing the way the days you spent together would bleed into nights. Missing the way you wrap your arms around him and smother him in cuddles, missing the way you always remember his takeout order for the fifteen different restaurants you frequent. Missing the way he once thought that you could spend your whole lives together.

Realized what?

He supposes that he has always been a bit foolish. All of his ex-girlfriends broke up with him, never the other way around. And while they all ended on good terms, they all said the same thing to him: it always seemed like his heart belonged to someone else. But he misread that, too. He just thought that he hadn’t found the right person, yet. He would keep searching until he did.

That I’m in love with you!

The craziest thing about it all is that your confession didn’t even shock him that much. After the initial surprise wore off, it was almost as if the dust settled around you, the storm finally calming. Like finding the last puzzle piece after thinking it had been lost for days. Like feeling everything click into place.

Taehyung has been thinking a lot about last night, but his least favorite part is always this:

I already know that you don’t feel the same.

He wishes that he could have told you. He wishes that he could have been strong enough, could have realized what he had before it slipped through his fingertips. Wishes that he could have reached out and grabbed onto you and never let go. There’s nothing more that he wants to do than see you again. You live in the same tiny New York apartment, and you’ve never felt further away from him.

Taehyung wills himself out of bed and washes his face, clearing away the leftover makeup and the sleep in his eyes. It’s a fresh start. It’s a new day.

He sees you standing in the kitchen, making that tea that you had left forgotten last night. He catches your eyes for just a second before he loses them again, watches as you turn your back to him in a desperate attempt to avoid contact.

“I got a new potential show to audition for,” he says loudly, breaking the silence.

“That’s cool,” you say, emotionless.

“Do you want to know what it’s about?”

You don’t respond. Taehyung takes this as a cue to continue.

“It’s about a boy on a search for love,” Taehyung begins, rallying himself despite only being able to see your back. “And he goes out and sees all of these people falling in love and wants that for himself. And he wonders why nothing is sticking, why he can’t seem to fall in love with anybody. And then he realizes that the reason he can’t seem to fall in love with anyone else is because he’s already found his person.” A pause. He’s just summarizing a story, but this feels like a confession. “His best friend.”

You turn around sharply, tea sloshing in the cup in your hand. Taehyung inhales, then exhales. It’s now or never. You’ve been friends for so long. Who’s to say you can’t be more than that?

“Don’t you think I’d play this part well?” He asks.

You shrug, closing your eyes and breathing heavy. He can tell that you’re holding something back, trying not to burst at the seams. “I’m not sure, Tae.”

“I think I would,” Taehyung tells you confidently. He takes a step closer to you, reaches over to take the cup of tea from your hands, placing it on the counter. “Because I’ve been doing it for so long, already.”

You gasp when he kisses you, a gust of air escaping your lips and immediately mixing with his, seize up at the feeling of his lips on yours. Immediately, Taehyung wonders if he’s overstepped a boundary, or two, or five, but then he feels you relax under his touch, feels you reach your hands up to cup his cheeks as you press against him insistently, drunk on the taste of his lips on your own.

Taehyung’s kissed a lot of people in his day, but this one is different. He’s felt sparks, seen fireworks, but with you, it’s as if he’s sinking into a warm bath after a cold day. As if he’s returning to an apartment filled with the things he loves after a long day out. As if he’s coming home.

All of these emotions, all of the little things tucked away in the corners of his soul, in the dark attic of his heart, come bubbling up to the surface, and all he can do is hope that you can feel them, swallow them up like wine, as you press your lips against his, grinning.

Finally, you pull yourself away, almost as if you think you’ll get drunk if you keep going.

“How long?” You ask.

Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t know. A while now, definitely.”

“Really?”

“I think so,” Taehyung says. “I guess that I was wrong, what I said before about looking for love. I looked everywhere, I wanted to see it in every spark that was set my way, but I forgot the most important place. I should have known.” You curl into his touch, resting your head against his chest as his arms wrap around your waist. “How about you?”

“Forever,” you breathe out. “It started and it never stopped.”

Taehyung beams. The flowerbud in his heart had been shuttered for so long, hardly watered and never in the sun. And then suddenly, the curtains opened up and the clouds began to cry, and everything blossomed. You make him feel like he’s always home. You make him feel safe.

You make him feel like a red carnation in bloom.

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#taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #v fluff #v angst #v scenario #taehyung scenario #bts imagine #taehyung imagine #v imagine #bts au #taehyung au #w: good luck charm #formatting this on tumblr was a BITCHHHHHHH

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