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randomvideogameblog · 2 years

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The Character Customization Files

The God Eater Series + Code Vein

Genre: Anime Style Hack and Slash/RPG

Customization: Yes

Romance: Haha. No. But we can dream.

I am biased. I love this series with a passion and I'm excited to see what the next entry will bring in terms of lore. Lore that was expanded upon slightly with Code Vein offering new questions. With that said here's what can be said about the games in terms of customization/gameplay.

God Eater 1/Resurrection:

Hoh boy. The game shows its age now. But it's a classic. In the facial category, it's lackluster. Giving you a set of faces to work with and few hairstyles, but for me the clothes were always something I loved. There's a good plenty to be unlocked as you play. The story is a bit rushed; I wish it was more fleshed out and drawn out. But what is there is enough, the characters are iconic and absolutely lovable. As for romance, ha-ha I wish. But we have Alisa, who seems to have a crush on the player. That's a plus. Also, background romances? Yes.

God Eater 2/Rage Burst:

This game also shows its age. It lacks polish, like really lacks it. Translation errors and dialogue not matching what was said. I may have to go back but I swear in a cutscene that was meant to be heart felt my character was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was the generic male protag. When I played as a girl. I laughed because it was hilarious. This time around in the customization the clothes are still plentiful, more so in fact. I... like to collect them all.

The characters this time around are a bit more extra. Whether that's good or bad, depends on who plays it. Because I loved some but loathed others. Just one. But even he grew on me to some degree. Romance? Not you there's not. Implied? Maybe. If you squint.

God Eater 3:

I miss the clothing from its predecessors, the variety isn't there in this one. But the overall aesthetic and look of your protagonist is good. The model itself is good. I just don't like the hair shine, but that's a small thing.

There isn't romance, but oh boy. You play the game and tell me there isn't love. Platonic or romantic whatever is going on between your protagonist and Hugo. I love it. Found family. I live for it. While the game could do with more fleshing out of relationships and in general being longer it does have DLC that's free that expands a bit further.

Code Vein:

Hello, good looking! The character customization is off the charts in terms of options. Not clothes, which is a bummer. But hair, accessories and make up galore! The options to make an absolutely unique character are there. The characters still suffer a bit from the same issue I had with God Eater. Lack of overall interaction with the characters. I wanted more. Still, I enjoyed it very much. There's no romance. But that's fine. There are characters who's romances I enjoyed to see.

Code Vein is special since you don't have to play the God Eater series to enjoy the game. I believe it was said it was not in the same universe as the God Eater series. But that's only a half truth. It does, but it requires no knowledge of the God Eater lore to play. It exists somewhere alongside it, a side story existing in its own bubble.

With the God Eater games I like to say the story carries on from each one. Almost like a cause and effect. God Eater 3 can be played alone as it's not as tight knit as the other two but is a delight to play when you see a certain character appear again having been there from the beginning.

If you want to start with this series start the old ones first. Here's my reasons why.

First. The older games are clunkier. If you start with the more recent titles going back will psyche you out. They'll feel heavy and it's a relief when you get to the more recent titles.

Second. Lore wise. I liked getting to see the story progress throughout the series. You get to know them and get attached to them.

Third. I feel like the older ones are more likely to go on sale. Don't get them full price.

Counter point:

If you'd like. Play the newer ones first. God Eater 3 and Code Vein make good introductions on their own. They're smoother to play and you don't need to play the others unless you'd like to.

Ratings:

God Eater Series

Overall: 7/10

Would I recommend? Yes and no. Yes, because I am biased. No, if it's not to your taste.

Code Vein

Overall: 8/10

Yes, I would recommend. Like I said. This game can be played alone without the others, offers a good introduction to the world via a teaser. The customization is amazing too.

#The Character Customization Files #character customization #video game review #god eater #god eater 2 #God eater 3 #code vein

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extasiswings · 3 years

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“I felt it shelter to speak to you.” for Buddie

This was...not supposed to be this long but all the recent promo content has been...inspiring. Anyway...on ao3 here.

The first attack happens on a Saturday afternoon.

There’s nothing special about the day, nothing strange. Christopher is at a friend’s birthday party, Buck is off somewhere with Taylor, and Eddie is grocery shopping before he’s meant to meet Ana for an early dinner.

His shoulder aches a little—that’s what he notices first—but that’s not too unusual. It happens sometimes. Even as physical therapy has helped him regain strength and mobility in his arm and shoulder, a high caliber sniper round ripping through his upper chest is no minor injury. Plus, while he’s hardly ancient, he’s not even as young as he was when he was shot the first time, and those bullets left behind their own patches of scar tissue and occasional twinges.

So. His shoulder aches. It’s fine. He ignores it and moves on. Goes through the store, checks out, put his bags in the backseat—

There’s a glare off a window in the apartment building across the street.

Eddie reaches for the handle of his door.

Suddenly, his fingers start tingling, uncomfortable pricks of icy numbness traveling up his hands like they’ve fallen asleep, but shaking them out doesn’t help. And then, without warning, pain lances through his chest, sharp and acute, and he can’t breathe properly, as if his torso has been trapped in a vise that’s slowly tightening more and more.

His vision swims. He sways on his feet, grasping at the door handle with clumsy, numb fingers to keep himself upright.

He feels like—he feels—

He feels like he’s dying. It strikes him with sudden clarity. He’s dying. Dying in a random parking lot—he always assumed he was too young to have a heart attack but the symptoms fit and he’s just—

He can’t. He can’t die. Not when he’s survived everything else. This can’t be—

“Sir?” There’s a woman with a station wagon parked in the space next to his truck and she’s looking at him with no small amount of concern. “Are you okay?”

Eddie’s mouth is so dry and his breathing so irregular that it takes him a moment to respond.

“I—I think I need to go to the hospital,” he grits out as another wave of dizziness threatens to send him to his knees.

She calls 911. Eddie spares a moment to be grateful that the paramedics who show up a few minutes later aren’t from the 118.

As it turns out, he’s not dying. And he didn’t have a heart attack.

“A panic attack?” Eddie’s voice is distant to his own ears as he stares at the ER doctor in disbelief, his stomach flipping with a new kind of dread. “Are you sure?”

“Your symptoms resolved on their own and your EKG is normal, Mr. Diaz,” she replies as she flicks through the screens of his chart on her tablet. “And nothing in your prior history or other recent tests indicates that there’s anything physically wrong with you—you were healthy before you were shot and your recovery has progressed smoothly up to this point.”

She pauses and looks back at him. “Have you...spoken to a therapist? I noticed that your treating physician made a referral for counseling when you were originally discharged, but…”

Eddie clears his throat roughly. “Yeah, no, I, uh...with the PT schedule and everything else going on, I never followed up with that. But I’ve been fine. It never seemed necessary.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Diaz,” the doctor says, “you’re in the emergency room because of an acute stress response in which your brain tricked your body into believing you were in danger to such an extent that you thought you were dying. I’m not sure you’re as fine as you think.”

There’s probably some truth to that. Eddie can admit that much. But that doesn’t mean he needs—he’s been shot before. He’s been in a warzone. He didn’t need therapy to move forward from it then and he shouldn’t now. He can—he can handle this. He can make himself get over it.

He’s already spent months leaning heavily on everyone around him. The thought of not being okay, of asking for more help when he’s finally easing back into working, when things are finally getting back to normal, when they all have their own issues to focus on—

God, it makes him want to throw up.

So...no. He’s okay. Because not being okay isn’t an option.

He’s fine. The panic attack was...a fluke.

“I appreciate the advice,” Eddie says finally. “I’ll think about it.”

He can tell the doctor doesn’t believe him when her lips thin.

“You know, more likely than not, the panic attacks will keep happening if you do nothing,” she points out. “Ignoring this won’t make it go away.”

“I understand,” Eddie replies. “If that’s all, does that mean I can get out of here?”

The doctor sighs. “Sure.”

Eddie’s phone rings while he’s in an Uber on the way back to his truck. It’s Ana.

He swears under his breath as he sees the time—he hadn’t called anyone, hadn’t wanted the hospital to call anyone either, but that means he’s now late for a date that he doesn’t really want to keep after everything and further doesn’t leave him with any good excuses for his absence except the truth which...he doesn’t really want to admit.

Before the shooting, Carla told him to make sure he was following his heart. And he’s been too exhausted and focused on his recovery to really think too hard about that. But now—

For a moment, Eddie considers it. Telling Ana the truth. Showing her some of the dark, messy, ugly pieces of himself. Being vulnerable.

The very idea makes him recoil. Not because he thinks she would run away necessarily, but because he just...can’t.

He can’t. Not with her.

And if he’s that uncomfortable with the idea of letting in someone he’s been dating for over half a year, if he can’t imagine himself ever actually being comfortable with that...then what the hell is he doing?

He calls her back when he gets to his truck.

“Hey—I’m so sorry, I had a little emergency—yeah, everything’s fine now, but I’m not sure I’m up for going out. Can I meet you at your place? ...okay, great. See you soon.”

He may know even less about ending a relationship than he does about dating in general, but he figures he at least owes it to her to end things in person.

Eddie goes to work on Monday feeling fine. Great, even. He sleeps well the night before, he gets Christopher off to school on time, traffic is light enough that he gets to the station early—

Everything is fine. By all accounts it should be a good day.

At least, that’s what he thinks right up until all of them get different emergency alerts sent to their phones and they find out the city’s systems have been hacked. From that point forward, everything is chaos. Damage control. Twenty-car pile-ups because stoplights are being messed with, an outbreak of animals from the zoo when the electric locks on their enclosures released—

Eddie’s fine though. He’s fine. It’s nothing he can’t handle—in fact, he’s usually great with chaos. He’s focused and sure and capable. Nothing else matters but the work, certainly not himself. When he’s busy, he has no time to think about anything else.

The gradually worsening tension in his shoulders can be ignored. The way he has to clench his hands into fists to keep them from shaking in a way he hasn’t had to do since his earliest days in Afghanistan can be brushed off. He doesn’t have time to think about anything but the jobs in front of him, which means he doesn’t have time to think about his own state.

Brush it off, pick yourself up, keep moving forward. That’s what he knows, that’s what he can do.

Except, then they end up at the hospital and—

A medevac helicopter falls off the roof. Bobby nearly joins it. Buck and Eddie barely manage to get him back.

A cold sweat breaks out on Eddie’s brow as Bobby leans heavily against the wall next to the roof access door to catch his breath. His stomach roils. He doesn’t feel fully connected to his own body, caught somehow between present and past, a rooftop in Los Angeles and a desert in Afghanistan.

He breathes in. He tamps down on the rising panic.

Bobby is fine. The helicopter pilots and their patient are fine.

He’s fine. He’s fine.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie jumps at the question, his head whipping around to find the source. Buck’s brow furrows as he holds up his hands.

“Sorry,” Buck says quietly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Eddie swallows hard and shakes his head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it.”

He glances toward the door. “You know, I think I’m going to head back down,” he says, hoping Buck won’t notice the fact that he hasn’t answered the original question. “I want to make sure the pilots are holding up alright.”

“I can come—” Buck starts to offer, only for Eddie to cut him off.

“Someone should stay with Bobby,” he replies. He forces a smile as Buck’s eyes search his face. “I’ll be fine.”

Buck glances at Bobby, then back to Eddie before he finally nods.

“Okay,” he says. “But here, take the radio. If anything happens—”

“I’ll let you know.”

Eddie makes it down one flight of stairs before he decides to take the elevator the rest of the way down. The numbers on the top of the doors tick down, down, down—

And then, abruptly, the elevator lurches to a halt, throwing Eddie off balance and into the wall as the lights go out, plunging him into total darkness.

His ears ring from the impact.

He’s trapped. Trapped in a metal box in the dark. A box that could easily become a coffin if the emergency stop failed and sent it careening down to crash at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

Eddie’s breathing speeds up against his will. His chest starts to hurt.

Not again, he thinks vaguely. Not here, not now, not again.

But. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. Some distant part of his mind recognizes that what he’s feeling isn’t real, that he just needs to calm down, but he can’t—

He’s going to die. He’s going to—

The radio crackles in his belt.

“Eddie? Eddie! Can you hear me?”

Eddie’s mind latches onto the sound of Buck’s voice like a lifeline in an ocean of distress. It takes him a moment to make his trembling hands work through their numbness, to remind his fingers how to work the buttons, but eventually, he lifts the radio to his mouth.

“I’m here,” he says. His voice shakes. “I’m in the elevator. It’s—I don’t know which floor. Or if I’m between floors. I don’t—”

He shudders. His eyes close, not that it really matters given how dark the space is already.

“It’s okay,” Buck replies. “It’s okay, Eddie, we’ll find you. We’ll get you out, don’t worry.”

“I don’t want to die here.” It slips out of him before he can pull it back. Buck takes a sharp breath on the other end of the line.

“That’s not going to happen,” Buck says firmly, although his own voice seems less steady than usual. “I would never let that happen. I’ve got your back, remember? Always.”

A shudder rips down Eddie’s spine and he slides against the wall to sit on the floor. The walls still feel too restricting, like they’re closing in on him more each moment that he looks away.

The radio crackles again.

“Eddie. What can I do? What do you need?” Buck asks.

I don’t know. I don’t—I can’t—

“Eddie.” The fear and desperation in Buck’s voice cuts through the fog in Eddie’s mind.

He never wants Buck to sound like that.

“Keep talking?” Eddie replies. “I—just keep talking to me. Please?”

Don’t go, is what he really means. Stay with me.

He’s never allowed himself to say those things though. Not during the early days of the pandemic when they were sharing a bed in Buck’s loft. Not after he moved back home with Christopher and the other side of his bed felt too empty for sleep to come easily. And certainly not after he started dating Ana.

During his recovery, he never had to ask Buck for anything really. Buck was always just...there. Even though he was with Taylor, he was still there with Eddie and with Christopher whenever Eddie needed him. Like he knew somehow. Or maybe as if he needed to be there as much as Eddie needed him there.

Eddie hasn’t looked too closely at any of that. He’s not ready to. It’s too much, too complicated, too—too—

Dangerous.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Eddie swallows hard as his head rests against the wall. As he allows the sound of Buck’s voice to wrap around him like armor. Like home. Insulating him against the panic and isolation.

“Anything,” he says quietly. “Just keep talking.”

And Buck does. He talks about everything and nothing, random facts and stories from his past that Eddie hasn’t heard before, he talks and talks and talks until his voice grows hoarse in Eddie’s ear and the pressure on Eddie’s lungs eases.

Eddie exhales shakily and takes a few deep breaths as he continues to listen, as his body shifts from hyper-awareness and panic to wrung out exhaustion. When Buck finally cuts off, it’s because there’s an ugly screech of metal as the elevator doors are pried open, as light filters back in.

Eddie’s legs are unsteady as he gets to his feet. He trips on the edge of the elevator door when he exits—

Buck catches him before he can fall. Because of course he does.

“Thank you,” Eddie breathes into Buck’s shoulder as he finds his balance.

Buck shakes his head. “I promised we’d get you out, didn’t I? Besides, I—I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“I decided—”

“I shouldn’t have let you,” Buck repeats, low but insistent. His eyes meet Eddie’s and Eddie swallows hard.

“You weren’t okay. Were you?” Buck asks. And Eddie—

He wants to lie. Part of him does at least.

But he can’t lie to Buck.

Not to Buck.

“No,” he confesses. It’s half a whisper. “No, I wasn’t.”

Buck bites his lip and nods once.

“Okay,” he says. “We’ll figure it out.”

And somehow, Eddie believes him.

#chapel writes #prompt fill #letmetellyouaboutmyfeels #buddie #eddie diaz #buddie fic #buddie ff

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writing-in-april · 3 years

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Training wheels

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Years later after Spencer teaches Reader to drive even though he hates driving, Reader becomes good enough to ride a motorcycle they get him to come along on a ride.

A/N: hey heyyyy- this is my seventeenth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! This fic is based on this request- which I decided to make smutty instead of full on smut so I could make it a bit more fluffy. Disclaimer- I know nothing about motorcycles and I can’t even drive lol so sorry for the lack of terminology. This ended up being gender neutral- I checked it over for the correct pronouns a few time but I could have missed something- please let me know if so! Feel free to give me your response by sending something to my inbox here. Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy.

Warnings: 18+- (if you are found to be violating this I will tell writers who you are), no full on smut- in the smutty/spicy category, a bit of grinding, implications about having sex in the future, In public sexual teasing (who’s fucking surprised), hints at Sub!Spencer, A few swear words

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.0k

Spencer hated driving. He always shook whenever he couldn’t stop the racing thoughts about the dangers of moving vehicles. He knew he was a good driver, but it was easier for him to trust the metro which stayed on its tracks (most of the time). A car with no rigid path and with so many variables just made Spencer’s mind race too much.

You were the only person that could get him to get into a car, without any sort of coercion. At his job he had accepted it as a reality of his situation; there was no way that he could get around it. He agreed to teach you how to drive to your job, which happened to be where you had met him. You ran a small thrift store just walking distance from your apartment. There had been no need to drive anywhere, until you opened up another branch on the other side of town.

You had met Spencer there, he had come in at night, just before close. He shopped around for a few sweater vests and cardigans until you had told him that you needed to close. His mumbled apology had been so cute you remember it to this day.

When he noticed that you walked home in the same direction as his, he offered to keep you company. At first you thought he had done it out of guilt since he made you stay late, until you realized he liked your presence. It was not a romantic relationship (not yet at least), you both didn’t kiss or anything, but you did love to tease him.

He cared about you, and you about him, which is why he eagerly offered to teach you to drive when you mentioned that you were scared to learn with an instructor. You preferred to be taught by someone who you knew and knew was a good driver. Spencer was just that, even with jittery fingers and tapping feet.

Since then you had become a great driver, good enough that you felt confident indulging in one of your dreams. You had always wanted a motorcycle, the wind blowing in your face and the freeing quality it had, had always made you desire one. Despite Spencer’s protests about the potential for even more safety hazards than a car you still indulged your dream, confident in your skills that Spencer had laid the foundation with his excellent teaching skills even while slightly fearful.

You had taken to it like a fish to water, it had been even easier than when you had Spencer teach you. Now it was the time to show the master how the apprentice approved, though you highly doubted Spencer liked to be called a master at driving. More like a teacher, a nervous one.

It did take some convincing for him to agree to ride on your motorcycle with you.Somehow, through gentle persuasion throughout the last few months, you had done it. He had prefaced it saying that it would be the only time it would ever happen, and you made it your goal to change his opinion. You highly doubted he’d ever want to drive it, which was fair considering he couldn’t stop the thoughts of statistics about safety in his head. You hoped though, that maybe he’d like riding with you.

“Is it safe?” Was his first question as soon as he arrived at your small thrift store you owned, jittery with nerves.

“Well- hello to you too.” You sassed cocking your hip to the side while holding your helmet in the small of your waist. He blushed bashfully, then finally said hello before you assured him, “I wouldn’t be bringing you if it wasn’t safe- I wouldn’t be driving it if it wasn’t safe.”

“Ok- I trust you.” He relaxed a little, though he was obviously still nervous.

To cheer him up a little you pivoted the conversation onto a more jovial topic, “Will you wear a leather jacket?”

“Maybe next time- if you convince me to get on the death trap again.” It was rare to see Spencer tease you back, but you thoroughly enjoyed it.

Quipping back you said, “Maybe I could get you to drive it too”

“I think I’d need training wheels for that.” A snort came out of you at that; it was funny imagining Spencer riding a motorcycle with bicycle training wheels.

“That would be a sight to see.” You swung your leg on to mount the vehicle, ready to take him on a spin. You then prompted him while getting your helmet on, “Come on pretty boy, let’s do this- and get that helmet on.”

He was a little nervous just going by the shaking in his palms, but he still put the helmet on and climbed on- albeit a bit awkwardly.

He wrapped his hands around your waist snugly when you roared the motorcycle to life. Whenever you had to break he clenched tighter, maybe not enough to leave bruises, but enough that it would be implanted in your memory for a good long while. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him.

You could tell he had slowly relaxed a little bit more even while keeping a strong grip on you as you made your looped path charted out in your head. Starting at your store and ending at your store, it was longer than maybe it should have been, considering Spencer’s grip on you had made your arousal spark to life.

You soon realized you weren’t the only one enjoying this, feeling something slightly stiff as Spencer shifted slightly at a red light. Oh, he was enjoying it. His cock confined in his pants was growing harder as the journey progressed.

“Did you have fun?” You questioned just as you pulled back into where you started, even though you already knew he did.

He squeaked out a measly, “Yeah!”

You smirked again, out of sight from his face. Biting your inner cheek in thought, you contemplated whether or not to act on it. It would be so easy to just swivel your hips and begin to grind down on his erection that had been pressing into you during the whole ride.

Fuck it, this might be one of your only chances to make a move. You tilted your hips just a smidge, leaning back just a little into him. You heard a hitch in his breath, his hands he had around you tightening back around you, pulling you in closer.

He whimpered when you sat back a little more, testing the waters just a little further. When he himself rolled his own hips once you had to ask, “Do you want me to keep going, Spencer? Do you want this?”

His helmeted head dropped into the crook of your neck, nodding into it as he began to rock into you a little. You gripped around the handles that you were still holding, all you had done was break so far. You were both in broad daylight perched on top of the vehicle. Turning your head as much as you could when you realized he hadn’t verbally responded you prompted sharply, “I need you to speak up, pretty boy. Do you want this?”

“Yes!” He gasped quickly at your prompt.

You then ground yourself back onto his bulge, rotating yourself slowly to feel the torturous friction. The fact that your bottom halves were still clothed only made it even more devastating. No one was around as it was the weekend, when you weren’t open and no one was really around. You still tried to stifle any noises you were tempted to make as his own hips started to undulate into your own.

A person could round the corner and immediately see two people grinding like teenagers onto each other. You both may have been completely closed, but it was quite obvious what you were both doing.

The extra friction you were getting was building a burning orgasm in you, the noises you had been trying to hold back were too hard to stifle. A moan came out of your mouth when Spencer moved down his hands from your waist to the outside of your hips, pulling you down on him with even more ferocity.

When his phone then began to ring you both let out a groan, your hips stopping any movement you had been making over his hard bulge. He reluctantly pulled out his ringing and buzzing ancient phone. Which you would normally find endearing that he carried around somewhat arcane technology, but your weaning arousal was wanting you to smash it on the ground.

“Hello? Hotch?” You groaned, knowing exactly what this meant. There was no way this was going to go further tonight, Hotch wasn’t calling him on the weekend just for paperwork. He was about to leave for a case.

You ripped your helmet off of your head out of frustration while he continued to talk. Grumbling while wiping the sweat that had started to accumulate, Spencer chattering away quickly at Hotch telling him he’ll be there in about ten minutes.

When he got off the phone he began to stammer in apology, this was the only time I’d ever want to cut him off, “There’s no need to apologize- go catch a bad guy.”

“Thank you- and thanks for-r the ride and- um the other thing… I’ve got to go now, I’ll uh- talk to you later.” He then awkwardly shuffled off, trying to conceal his obvious bulge even though you were the only one around to see it.

When he got into his car, you were happy he had brought it for once. You wouldn’t have let him walk all the way to his office from here, and you would have had to drive him with his bulge pressing into your ass again.

“I’m gonna need a cold shower.” You added, mumbled underneath your back as you put your helmet back on, ready to drive back to your apartment to hopefully freeze your frustration away.

—-

The next time you saw him- about a week later, a little blush immediately graced his cheeks, probably thinking about what happened last time. You kissed his cheek and felt how hot they had gotten just by being in his presence. He was here again, early this time, ready for you to open up your shop for the day.

“You’ve got to wait 30 minutes until you can buy something, I don’t open till then,” You then flashed a smirk towards him, he might die from being overheated if you kept teasing him. Still, you continued to do it, “Can’t be seen to show you any favors, pretty boy. Then everyone would want one.” As soon as the keys turned to unlock you didn’t open the door right away, instead turning back to face him. He fidgeted even more underneath your direct gaze, also averting his eyes. You let go of your hold on the keys, bit your lip and added, “Though, I think you’d be the only one I’d want to be my favorite.

He stuttered a bit at that, before changing the subject, “Um- I came here to actually thank you for last week… I had a lot of fun.”

You then cocked your head to the side in question, “Didn’t you already thank me last time?”

“Yeah.” He responded meekly, clearing his throat a few times while he collected his thoughts. “Can we finish what we started?”

You beamed, as it had been exactly what you were hoping for. You made your way back over to him, this time to pull him by the front of his shirt to press a steaming kiss to his lips. He moaned, letting your tongue run over his teeth a few times before you deepened it further. You were panting by the time you released him, but worked through the gasping breaths to answer verbally now, “Of course- come inside with me. If you won’t go on another ride with me after this while wearing a leather jacket, I’ve got a leather jacket you can wear while I ride you.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill out this form to join):

All Works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @spenxerslut @boxofsparklingmuses @katexrichardson@takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @spenxerslut @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #30 fics in 30 days

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thequibblah · 3 years

Note

directors cut for WTRF? 🥺👉👈 not biased at all obviously just objective third party asking for a directors cut hmmm hmmmmm

literally how could u do this every other word in that fic is an easter egg i can't shut up about..... bestie u are about to have regrets

one thing u should know is that 90% of things in this fic have real-world equivalents and its not even like....... hidden equivalents. serie primo = serie a, for instance. this trend is going to continue and i won't apologise <3

fun fact i named the bar the Bar and the drinks after shapes because i was too lazy to come up with something actually clever

this bit

I’m grinning to myself by the time she approaches my table.

was a very intentional fakeout and if you read this and thought "she" would be lily, feel free to sue me for emotional damages

the biggest conundrum of this AU was, how are jily not going to have met in school when magic exists? the solution was, of course, having multiple magic schools. but i couldn't let one of them have hogwarts, that didn't seem fair. i know i did sort of let lily have it..... but i felt more comfortable making hogwarts a university so there was a legit reason why james wasn't there and in gryffindor (if he'd gone he absolutely would have been)

once solved, i did the fun thing of naming them! ottaline gambol's was easy, i just scrolled through the list of ministers for magic and picked a progressive one. peverell hall was a whim, made all the funnier when lily's reaction is:

Much was made at Otty’s — one of the more progressive magical schools, named for one of the more progressive Ministers of Magic — of schools like Peverell Hall and St. George’s. The latter, I know, is chock-full of pureblooded elite. Peverell Hall is supposed to be slightly better, but still.

dang, it's gonna be funny if she ever finds out james is a descendant of the guy it's named after

fun fact, i included this because peter's question was a real thought i had when reading bond and free, your inspiring writing knows no limits:

The first thing you conjure in Walking Wombat is a yellow quill... “Why yellow?” Peter asked. Eddie gave him a strange look. “Why not?”

i realised i'd put jily in the same conundrum they had in tis the fucking season here:

It’s only then that I remember she’s just bought us drinks. I turn back to my triangle. “Oh, shit.” I suppose I can pawn it off on one of the others.

...but of course the resolution is rather different, and i do so enjoy a james with no filter (aka default james)

I briefly lose control of my brain and my tongue. “Is it too soon to say I’m in love with you?”

by the way, no-filter james will be a theme. wild things sure do run fast but not as fast as this boy runs his mouth!

also, another interesting challenge here was making sure james has a reason to be the way he is in AU. i love playing around with james's childhood/background and seeing how that affects his character while (hopefully!) staying true to who he is. i did that in ttfs by having him move around a lot and not meet the marauders until after the flashback timeline, which is why he's less of a git — he doesn't have the level of comfort in a social setting that canon james has with hogwarts, which is basically his playground from day 2 of first year lol

here, james was probably a fkn nightmare all through school, but of course he gets a big ego check when his quidditch career is derailed. i imagine his years in italy as a continuation of that humility lesson.

I will fully admit I used to be a cocky prick. This is what comes of being a kid who grew up with everything. But one useful thing that the whole fiasco four years ago taught me is humility. I’ve learned how to ask nicely for another chance.

and so much of writing him in wtrf is juggling that typical confidence with the insecurity/fear of losing something he's invested so much in (and has seen slip away before). it's really new to me, because typically i give lily uncertain life circumstances, but i suppose it's both of them in this AU.

the car thing was... i swear didn't start out as smutty, it was purely because i wanted a way to establish lily as muggleborn in a world where the connotations of not having magical parents is very different. more to come on that!

also, come to think of it, by this metric...

I’m now in dangerous territory, since that adds another impressive action to her running tally.

...i think james is already in love with her LOL

this bit:

The street is considered indecent and the downstairs hallway would have our landlady come running at once, so if it pleases Your Honour, we would recommend the sitting room sofa.

...was actually because in draft one lily was a lawyer, but then it was funny enough that i didn't want to take it out, but NOW i realise it makes it sound a little like she's addressing james as your honour, which.... hm. but anyway, we move on

Marc Bolan begs us to get it on through the stereo, vocalising my thoughts exactly.

the song here was initially "you shook me" (h/t @keepingupwithpotters) but i chickened out because zeppelin is SO horny dfjkhgkjs

also, it gave me so much joy to read everyone reacting to lily thinking about her ex (the general vibe was "who the fuck is this guy!!! ew!!!!") — rest assured (or, unassured??) that he has a part to play in all this. anyway, this is one of my fave lines:

He’s just a person, and there’s such a relief in sleeping with James and not the myth of a guy.

because as any come together reader knows....

Just James. Just James. It was never just James.

wtrf lily will learn!

literally the whole world knows i'm obsessed with needle drops that have no subtlety at all, but this one...

We just laugh, tangled together in a sweaty heap, as “Heaven Is in the Back Seat of My Cadillac” plays through the car’s speakers. “On the nose, isn’t it?” James says, sitting up.

...was pure luck, because i was looking up the top hits on the uk singles chart for the week(ish) this scene takes place in so that i could find a song that would realistically play on the radio, saw this, and was like omg the stars really do align

i feel like the thing i enjoy most about writing romance is the importance i get to place in noticing/looking/observing (and sometimes, not noticing!). it's just such a powerful but simple writerly tool, and god knows i am obsessed with pithy descriptions anyway, so this bit i am especially happy with:

James is already waiting, leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets. I feel as though I’m seeing him for the first time, the faint light of the flickering streetlamp catching him in profile: the strong slope of his nose, the hard line of his jaw, the curve of his smile. He studies the facade of our building with open curiosity, and I wonder what he’s looking for.

(one can only imagine james's train of thought in this moment. perhaps "ah. here lives the future love of my life"?)

“Thanks,” she tacks on at the end. I tip my head to one side in confusion. “For what?” “For, I don’t know. Being nice.” She laughs awkwardly. “I don’t do this very much.”

it wouldn't be a quibblah original tee em without some discourse to come about the nature of romantic/sexual relationships, would it? one thing i enjoy about this AU ("one thing" i say as if this isn't the billionth thing in a list) is that i get to write a romantic lily who's squaring that romanticism with what she perceives as the culture of the times. (this is a bit of a staple in all my characterisations of lily, but it is not often paired with casual sex, the complication of all complications!)

oh this bit literally wrote itself like i didn't even pause to think just vomited it out:

In the morning — and it must be early still — the sun streams through Lily’s sorry excuses for curtains with aggression that cannot be ignored. I crack open an eye to find myself sprawled out across her bed, quite literally spread-eagled. She’s attached to my side like a barnacle. Or a very pretty barnacle, anyway.

i'm especially proud of james's voice in this story. i don't often write first-person fic and i was worried how it'd turn out, but i think james as a character/narrator typically colours his own 3rd-person narration so strongly that it ended up a smoother transition than i'd feared!

also i just. i can't resist throwing in comic relief and i hope that this whole segment was a gentle enough preparation for the awkwardness that followed LOL

All of a sudden, the balcony door bursts open. I nearly drop the mug. “What the—” Mary pokes her head around the corner, sporting a righteous smile. “Morning, handsome.” Over her shoulder she shouts, “He’s on the balcony!” I blink. There’s a sound from inside the flat, as if something very large has just been dropped. Then a swear. “Oh, shit,” I say, realisation dawning, “you weren’t looking for me, were you? It’s so loud out here—” Mary cups a hand around her mouth and stage-whispers, “Lily was frantic.” She’s quite violently yanked back, and Lily herself appears in the doorway, slightly out of breath. “Should’ve checked the balcony first,” she says, and closes the door before Mary can insert herself into the space again. “Hi,” I say, which is agreed-upon best practice for greeting a woman you’ve just had fantastic sex with and ideally would like to have sex with again.

to this day i don't know what lily dropped. let's hope it wasn't expensive!

Captained the under-17 English squad at the World Cup some years back, Serie Primo’s lead goal-scorer of last year… Only an injury in what should’ve been his first season at Puddlemere mars his record. I wince reading about it and comparing it to a heap of press clippings. James Potter was hurt, and Puddlemere didn’t fancy paying for him not to play, so they shipped him off to Milan.

(you cannot imagine how much pointed interrogation of my brother it took to gather this intel.) i constantly worry that i've got dates or timelines wrong somehow — you might notice i tweaked under-17, which used to be under-19 until i realised that made no sense (even though in terms of its career importance i would much preferred it to have been u-19.... anyway). i also found out that u-17 football squads don't actually have captains but i said fuck it on that count.

but obviously i started writing this AU for the sports possibilities, only to discover i'm going to have to interfere a great deal with the Timeline (you shall see in future instalments).

god i really went through the whole fic. like i reread the whole thing to do this. here u go clare jfbghjfd

#this has no right to be this long #wtrf #clareee75 #ask me #director's cuts

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brooklynislandgirl · 3 years

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A boy, a girl, and their symbiote...

@tangleweave {{xx}}

It’s quite alright that he laughs ~gently~ at her and not just because she loves the shy sound of it, that she feels she could wrap herself up inside of the sound and experience the same warm comfort as when he allows her to occasionally borrow one of his hoodies. There’s always a reluctance that comes with having to give it back even though she knows he needs it more than she ever will but that’s not really the point. There’s also the fact that she’d been trying to be funny after all and Eddie’s laugh held none of the nastiness she can sometimes hear in other people’s tones when they are trying to be mean right to her face as though she can’t understand what was going on around her. But in all the time she has known him, Eddie has never treated her so shabbily. He has been a gracious friend. Kind. Without the condescending feeling she gets sometimes in the social circles she haunts because she has to. Eddie is different in that he listens to her and to the things she never really says aloud. She doesn’t know exactly how he learned to do that, if it’s a skill he’s taken away from his past or if it’s a natural empathy baked into his very being. It’s entirely possible that it’s an organic blend of both, something she’ll think about later. When there’s time to breathe and reflect, which she does a little too often. Takes their moments together and strings them together into a mental photo album where she can chart the progress they have made from just this side of naked hostility to genial silence, from avidly engaging each other onto the rooftop to trying to coax him into her home like some feral creature that he isn’t, because she’s worried about how cold it gets and if he’s eaten a good meal. Because she wants to know he’s safe, that he has someone looking out for him. He deserves that much. And...now. She isn’t really sure what now is.

She’d never really had the impression that Eddie saw her in this kind of light. None of his actions have ever reminded her of the kind of people who want to capture her like an exotic creature to be put on display until the newness wore off and they found that her meagre charms and her unwillingness to be exactly what they wanted did not hold much value to them. He does not see her as some cute childlike thing that needs protecting from the world and maybe especially from herself, either. She might not feel attraction the way most people do, but she’s absolutely sure that he’s never looked at her in the way that makes her feel like he’s devouring her with a single gaze. So perhaps she’s put it out of mind and got on with being friends, taking delight in just spending time with him, listening to the stories he has to offer, and living in those moments. This isn’t exactly that, though, is it?

When she thinks of Eddie ~far more often than she has any right to~ she has a distinct mental image. There is a sadness that always seems to linger in the back of his eyes especially when he thinks no one is watching. Which would lead to him lowering his face and staring into his coffee and the way that his hands would wrap around the cup always felt like he was afraid to let go. Gives him the impression of searching though she’s never sure for what. Sometimes she swears he’s having some internal debate with himself that comes across as starts and falters of sound, that soft-spoken tone that sends shivers down her spine in the best of ways, but still never really becoming words. And in her own way, she knows what that’s like, having so much inside but no real way of expressing it.

Lately though, it’s becoming harder to see him that way. It starts with the way he makes her laugh. Something she hasn’t really done in a long time, and then follows up with thought-provoking questions, and not ones from his list which had been terribly fun. The way he offers to walk her home when he realises she’s afraid of the dark fits in as well, followed closely with the way he curls up protectively around her on the bus or cable-cars. Stupid touristy things he doesn’t seem to mind at all. The keen and sometimes biting observations that he makes of people and the world that compel a shift of perspective. Murmured against her ear, a private conversation that has the power to weaken her knees a little. And more slowly, maybe, she begins to add...other things. How much she likes his smile when he offers it, and the fullness of his lips. How soft they look even when chapped. His eyes again, this time deep and soulful, how they darken in colour, in emotion. How it brings out the sprinkle of the palest freckles across his nose that like hers don’t show very often. She notices how steady, patient, and most importantly, how gentle his hands are. Eddie is, after all, a handsome man if a little rough around the edges. And maybe she really likes those too, a sharp contrast to her own softness. She wants to know what it would feel like to cut herself on them, and if he would kiss the wounds better. Eddie is an orchid, slowly blooming into a beautiful person right before her eyes. A person she wants to nurture and cultivate. Except maybe those aren’t the right words. Again, feelings she has no right to want. At what point do those kinds of nascent wishes become pushy? Seems like some kind of underlying motivation that has been so very carefully orchestrated so that she might take advantage of him? This is the critical part of relationships that are unfathomable to Beth, something everyone else seems to be aware of but that she missed out. Like there’s some kind of manual and it’s written in a foreign language that she doesn’t speak. And what good does it do to become aware of being increasingly attracted to Eddie...when he isn’t interested? She’s never been able to say he’s been less than a perfect gentleman to her. That he doesn’t go out of his way to carefully broach subjects that might make her uncomfortable and then if there’s any hint of distress, to quickly course-correct. If she’s to act in kind, how does she go about asking if maybe he isn’t a little like her? What did her friend call it? A different kind of umbrella, so to speak. She’s never felt an appropriate time has come to try and figure that out in any serious fashion.

Except... It’s quiet now. The wine still lingers on her tongue and soaks into the back of her mind, easing some of the tension right out of her, even if she’s watching him more intently than she ever has before. Wills him to maybe hear that unspoken question as he sits there, comfortable on the couch because the words escape her. He doesn’t recoil from the tap against his leg. Not that she can imagine he would really do that, but one never knows. And sometimes Eddie has odd reactions to general affection, at least from her and her inability to keep her hands entirely to herself.

And despite the myriad of problems she could catalogue, the subtle vocalisation is enough to have her pause precariously on the edge of the cliff they’re on. She can feel the churning of nerves deep in the pit of her stomach. Rogue butterfly wings pounding to be let out or smothered by any other feeling. By itself it should have no power over her except that it does. Makes her want to hear it again at a much closer distance, letting its echo wash over her. There’s such a power to that, one that gains as much as it gives. She can feel it dance beneath her fingertips, the way it feels like he almost presses back into them though she knows he hasn’t moved at all. It’s the wild flutter of his pulse, the song in his blood. It would only take a little pressure to have it gush over her lips and she’s very aware of that. Which is why she doesn’t listen to every instinct screaming for her to do so. She doesn’t want to take from Eddie, but to share. That’s an important distinction, the only one that would ever feel right. His ha comes out hot against her skin, strong. Tells her so much more about him than a hundred conversations, feels like witnessing the birth of islands and the death of mountains, all the life that comes between the two. And just as she’s on the verge of losing herself in the joy and terror of it all, he utters a single word that freezes her to the very marrow of her bones and her heart plunges somewhere down between her knees. Just like that… Eyes widen as she feels the instant backlash of having made a mistake she can’t take back.

She wants to. She should. She should blame the wine and the proximity and the fact that she read into his query wrong, through no fault of his own. That it isn’t his fault in the least. Anything that might make him laugh again and find her silly and that will make him stay. But before she can get the seeds of her apology in fertile soil he continues on. For a moment she finds herself unable to experience anything that isn’t the exquisite ghost of his touch in return. Pressing hers closer as if for one brief moment they both share the same fear and wonderment. And she has no idea what to do about that.

He’s not pulling away. If anything, he’s encouraging her. At least that is what it sounds like. And it all cascades again. And she finds herself briefly leaning into that caress, the rough pad of a thumb just cresting the arch of her cheek bone. No satin could compete with the delicate nature, and if there’s one thing that Beth knows beyond any doubt it is that touch doesn’t lie. As long as she’s known Eddie, neither does he. Not to her, anyway. Maybe that makes this all a little more unforgivable, but she will deal with the guilt and the consequences come morning. No one, even in her wildest fantasies which are very few and far between, more nameless want than anything else, has ever said something so simple but so full of meaning. Or in a way that eats her alive with newly sparked heat. Because the truth is, most people she knows never put her wishes at the forefront of anything, much less something so delicate in nature. “I…” She shifts. Rises up from the floor to pour herself over him, one slender thigh on either side of his hips, as best as the restraint of her skirt allows her to. Her other hand lifts to cup the other cheek, brushes across the soft stubble of his jaw and from slightly loftier a height, she finds herself looking him directly in the eye a moment, her voice drying up in her throat, forcing her to swallow. It’s her turn to search for something that lacks all definition, that can’t be given shape in words.

She’s forgotten how to breathe. Or maybe doesn’t need to at all, her gaze scouring every inch of his face before returning to his eyes. Because the question is still there. Does she want to do this? Yes. More than he can know. Does she know how? In the most basic of biological functions, also yes. Her lashes drift down to shutter green and gold from the world before she gets closer, and settles her lips to his. She catches the lower tier of his lips between her own. There’s still the same heat and the same temptation in doing so, that has not diminished from her earlier exploration but the kiss is far more gentle. Softer. Sweeter. But with a gradation of intensity that mimicked the pounding of bird wings inside of her chest, against the cage of bone surrounding it. Mimicked below as her hips roll into and against his own but doesn’t offer her any more leverage.

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k-rising · 4 years

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Jennie natal chart analysis

DISCLAIMER: This is just a part of the analysis of the idol’s natal chart, which wants to show a deeper perspective on the idols life. This analysis is carried out thanks to the data that appears in the birth chart. These are my interpretations of the signs and how they work based on my experiences with them. Everyone has different opinions and all interpretation and experiences within is valid. The point of this post is to entertain. [This idol hasn’t confirmed her birth time, so I used the standard 12pm time to calculate her natal chart].

Capricorn Sun

A M B I T I O U S

jennie ALWAYS has something on her mind

she knows what she has to get done

works none stop until she achieves her goals

patient but witty

self control !!!

never fails at what she does

PERSISTENT

demanding

serious

rational

loyal

pessimistic :(

likes order

Sun sextile Moon

her will and emotions work well together

has a strong sense of purpose

seeks harmony

likes feeling attracted to people and she also likes being in a relationship

makes others feel comfortable around her

always find a way around problems

even though she does assert herself, jennie tries not to offend people

VERY creative

likes seeing the bigger picture of things

wants to relate to others as equals

things come easily to her

Sun conjunct Mercury

does not listen as well as she speaks

has the need to be active when it comes to communication

jennie stays strong to her beliefs and opinions

Sun sextile Saturn

responsible in her work

wants to live an order life

does not jump into conclusions that easy, tho

has a slow but sure way to achieve her goals

Sun conjunct Uranus

talented but unpredictable

naturally rebellious

she may be seen as arrogant and stubborn by others

needs personal freedom

Sun conjunct Neptune

jennie’s likely to live in another reality

has the ability to charm people

might have high ideals

Sun square North Node

her ego likely gets in the way of her personal development

maybe she doesn’t take criticism

Scorpio Moon

feels things in a VERY intense way

likely hides that emotional part of her

can be dominant and aggressive at times

may get jealous and holds grudges

sensual

extremist

Moon square Venus

her romantic desires and emotional needs tends to create tension

may get into bad company

can be easily used

fears intimacy

Moon trine Saturn

patient and mature

likes responsibility and structure

grows to be strong and self-assured

loyal to her family

respects women

has a strong intuition

Moon sextile Neptune

it’s easy for jennie to relate to feelings and emotions of others

perceived as glamorous and mysterious

empathic

Moon conjunct Pluto

as i said before, her emotions are intense but will hide it often

can be very manipulative

her relationships with people can be passionate, stormy, painful and very emotional

Aquarius Mercury

open minded

an independent thinker

has a sarcastic way of talking

thinks progressively

uses logic to understand the world

heartless and cold when angry

wants to win discussions no matter what

Mercury conjunct Mars

can get aggressive in conversations

might be very impulsive too

may get defensive or swear a lot :0

Mercury conjunct Uranus

wants people to see her as a genius

original

innovative

unpredictable in communication

may have issues at expressing her emotions

Mercury conjunct Neptune

jennie is naturally gifted in art !!!

has great visualization

can get lost in her imagination

it can be hard for her to express her thoughts

may feel misunderstood a lot :(

this aspect is great for creating music, acting, writing, etc

Mercury sextile Pluto

perceptive

tries to understand the world through intellectual means

VERY observant

attracted to secrets and mysteries

loves figuring out problems

extremely opinionated

she may like talking about taboo things

Pisces Venus

whenever jennie falls in love, she doesn’t fear for feeling pain

she likes to sacrifice everything for her lover

compassionate

likes helping

empathic

sensible

idealist

gets easily hurt by lack of demonstration

likes easy things and luxury

seeks for peace

fears on expressing her feelings

tries to avoids confrontations

dependable

Venus sextile Jupiter

this aspect brings good fortune, popularity and true love

may enjoy flirting

secretive about her love life

cheerful

charming

jennie is fun to be around

could be easily used for her generosity at times :(

Venus square Pluto

can be paranoid, controlling and manipulative in relationships

fears being vulnerable in close bonds

has love for forbidden things… or maybe forbidden by society lol

has a tendency to fall for toxic people

can be self destructive

Aquarius Mars

fights to inspire others

interested in social problems

rebel

might have problems with authorities figures *coff coff* yg

Mars conjunct Uranus

impulsive

independent

erratic

Mars sextile Pluto

adept at exposing secrets :0

capable of being fearless and quite fierce

may also be power hungry

Capricorn Jupiter

responsible

reflexive

wants to act in big scale

VERY devoted in her work

Pisces Saturn

it can be easy for her to feel sadness bc she may feel responsible for others

Saturn sextile Neptune

dreams BIG

has a lot of determination to get what she wants

Aquarius Uranus

drawn to changes

changes expand her way of seeing things

Uranus conjunct Neptune

intuition and intellect brings a powerful connection here

perceptive in her group

wants unity for the world

humanitarian

Uranus sextile Pluto

brings transformation and change into people’s lives

tends to enter people’s lives unexpectedly

Capricorn Neptune

business and success are idealized

Neptune square North Node

addiction, deceptions and illusions gets in the way of learning her life lessons

Sagittarius Pluto

playful

can turn anything into a joke

can be very spiritual

may like experimenting and exploring herself

Libra North Node

her life lesson is to cooperate with others and learn to be diplomatic

has to allow herself to put other people’s needs first

if jennie doesn’t do that, she might lack empathy and will become highly selfish

#kim jennie #jennie #blackpink #kim jennie astrology #jennie astrology #blackpink astrology

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fichtner-fics · 4 years

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More Than This (Alex Mahone)

Request: Could you do a Alex Mahone x Reader love/hate relationship? And a angst/fluff? (They end together)

Warnings: swearing, argue, mention of blood and death

A/N: I got my first request for a story, yay! Thank you so much, dear anon!! To be honest, I have NEVER written fighting/arguing scene in my life, I guess because basically I’m a conflict-avoiding type-o-person. I hope it’s not that terrible, and you had something like this in mind. 🥺 Tell me what you think. ✨💕 [well this came out longer than I expected, sorry😂 ; GIF’s not mine]

- . - . - . - . - . - . - . - . -

We were working on a long and difficult case in the office. It started for 3 weeks now, and though we saw the light at the end of the tunnel, the great breakthrough, the final piece, the last clue was missing. We got that on one afternoon, to be exact, a phone call came in to Alex Mahone’s office, who was the leader of our team.

To be honest, I had no clue where we were with him. We had the potential to fight even about the tiniest details, but we shared some great laughs and kind moments as well. These few times were just enough for me to completely fall for him. His beautiful blue eyes mesmerized me, his smile (when he smiled at least) was wide and honest, and he looked just breathtaking in his sunglasses. I was his inferior for three years now, just enough time for develop strong and desperate feelings. This was the reason why our arguments broke me every single time.

When the call came in, Mahone immediately gathered us in the common room to give us some vision how the raid was going to take place. Everybody got their tasks in order, and I wasn’t too nervous when he left me for last. Much more when it turned out why he did that. Alex asked me to stay in the office just to hold the fort, as he said. I got some pity tasks like follow them on the radar, stay in touch with the center, but come on, they were going to the field. At first I hadn’t found my words, and when I was ready to reply angrily, they were far gone and I was left alone – for about the seventh time in the past one-and-half or two years. Alex just didn’t let me go to the field – and this was one of the main reasons why we were fighting about the most.

Today was the moment when I got enough. I took the keys of my car, got in and headed straight forward to the abandoned storage where they were assuming the location of our suspect. After my arrival and check-in, things happened fast. At the first moment I was walking quietly in the subdued light of a corridor, and at the next I suddenly heard Alex’s scream, then he jumped, pushed me to the ground and some shots were fired too. I realized only several moments later, when he asked for ambulance in the built-in microphone of his vest, that he saved me from the bullet of the killer. He didn’t left me alone but he didn’t talk to me either as we walked down the corridor. My hands were shaking, my shoulder on which I landed was on fire, and he gave a shit about me. Halfway we met the medical team. Alex told them in a few words what happened, then he left us alone – and me, broken.

After being showed out by some medical technicians, I was given a huge aluminium foil against the cold and the potential shock. They checked my blood pressure, my pupils, and an ambulance man examined my shoulder too. I couldn’t really move my left arm, but at the time that was the last thing I cared.

My eyes were following Mahone as he walked up and down in the parking lot, while speaking on the phone. My heart was aching even more than my shoulder. I cursed myself for all the things I felt for that man, and at the moment I hated everything. I hated the way he could weaken me so that I’d give anything for him, his shiny, beautiful ocean-blue eyes, that could see right through anybody, that could burn in anger and even laugh sincerely when his lips were laughing too.

I thought if I follow them, though I act controversary his demand, the help would be greater, that nothing matters what were before – who the hell would have thought that it could turn out this bad.

When Alex finished his conversation, my heart jumped. I truly hoped he cared enough to come and check on me, but that didn’t happened. I got enough, stood up and walked to him.

“I don’t want to talk to you” he said coldly when he saw me, not even looking into my eyes. I literally froze.

“Excuse me?” I asked back, but I was too late. “Alex, for God’s sake, would you listen to me for just one time? Please?” I yelled firmly as he turned his back on me, as he did for millions of times. He stopped for a sec, and I frankly thought he were about turning back – but this wasn’t happened. Alex walked straight away towards his car, as there was no one trying to talk to him, nobody broken and confused.

Some colleagues of mine were kind enough to drive me back to our office an hour later. Just in the second when I stepped into the common room, an other one, who got back earlier than us, told me that Mahone was raving and wanted to see me as soon as possible. I sighed, thanked her the information, and looked towards the door of our boss. I knew it was going to be long and loud, so as I walked I tried preparing my soul for anything and everything I was going to get.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he started immediately as I entered in his office. I hadn’t even had time to close the door, neither to look around the room. At first I wasn’t sure from where his voice was coming.

“Well, next time you should wait until the door is closed before you start shouting someone’s head off” I replied sarcastically. “I’m glad to know that you want to talk to me now.” I added.

“You disobeyed my order” Mahone continued, without replying to what I said. He stood at his desk in front of the huge windows.

“What?” I barked. It was more than enough. “What order are you talking about?”

“I asked you one thing. One” he held up his pointing finger, almost lightnings were striking from his eyes. “Stay right here, next to your computer, not making any trouble. And what did you do? Followed us. And then? Almost got shot without any goddamn bulletproof west. Do you understand that, Y/N? Do you hear what I‘m saying?”

Alex was so angry I have never had seen him before. He was yelling, but when he cursed (for the umpteenth time of that day) he lowered his voice so, that it was almost just a hissing. He ran his fingers through his hair as he made some steps around the room. I truly couldn’t believe what was happening.

“I’m sorry, mister, you must confuse me with your assistant” I replied angrily. “I just did what is my job.”

“Your job is to investigate, not to play a heroine” he said storming. “I said what I said because I judged this situation was not for your capabilities. And, amazingly, I was right.”

“You knew I was capable, either way you wouldn’t choose me in the first place for this position” I replied. “And if you’re curious, I’ll never ever sit in my chair with my arms folded until you solve cases in the street. I’m a part of this team,” I pointed towards the door, “just like anybody else in this office, whether you like it or not. Oh, and if you may did forget that, you made me a part of this. You knew I could bear this.”

“And by being the part of the team, you must do what I say.” he added. “What do you think would happen if I’m not here? You would still lie there, frozen in… in your own blood.”

His voice shook, but I wasn’t sure if I heard it well. I just stood there, feeling like someone who got a ton of boiling water in her neck.

“He was dangerous” Alex explained slowly after a short silence. He emphasized every single word separately, as I was a stupid 5-years-old, who were incapable of understanding what the adult is saying.

“Thank you, I participated in the whole investigation, at least when you let me. How the hell I’m supposed to progress if you push me back behind working desks?” I asked sharply. “If I wanted to fill in charts and write reports, I would apply to the office next to yours. But tell me if I should leave and change, I’ll do it happily.”

Heavy, tense silence sat on the little room. Alex was leaning against his desk, looking at his feet. My eyes were staring this man standing in front of me, trying to figure out what was he thinking about.

“I thought we were more than this” I said suddenly in a lowered, disappointed voice. “And you know what, I thought we could be more than this.” I added, not caring about anything at all anymore. If he understood, he did, but if not… that didn’t matter either. “Are we done?” I spoke again, because Mahone didn’t say anything. I waited for a long minute, but he stayed silent. I scoffed sarcastically. “You’re insane” I murmured under my breath, then without caring anything I turned and walked towards the door.

Suddenly, when there were only a few steps left and my palm was already on the handle, I felt fingers carefully touching my wrist and pulling me backwards. I got so surprised that I couldn’t realize what was happening until I found myself in Mahone’s hug. I felt one of his hands around my waist, the other cupped my face and pulled me close to him. All this movements happened in a split second, and the next thing I felt was Alex, as he pressed his lips onto mines. We were kissing for minutes, fast and wild at the first time, but as we were calming down our movements were slowing as well. My fingers were stroking his neck, finding their ways into his sand-coloured hair. Mahone’s strong hands held me tightly – for which I was grateful, either way I would fly far away in the air. Though I was filled with feelings and confusion, slowly every piece found its place.

“I can’t lose you” he whispered on my lips desperately after pulling away. “I lost my wife, my kid… I can’t take your loss too. Please.”

My eyes started getting filled with tears, my hands trembled, and I felt myself as weak as never. I had no idea how he felt – I wouldn’t even dare to imagine that he may shared my feelings.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I asked when I got my voice back. His face was now far enough I could look into his eyes, while softly stroking his cheeks. His blue gaze was almost frightened, jumping fast from my eyes back to my lips. “You must have seen that it wouldn’t be… platonic.” I smiled upon Alex in hopes that it may calm him a little bit.

“I didn’t want to pull you down. You deserve someone better, someone who’s not a complete… wreck… and I thought maybe if I’m strict enough with you, your feelings pass and you could give space for someone else…”

“I don’t need anybody else” I shook my head. “Alex, how… oh God. Instead of you, who could figure out what’s going on in my mind even from a few words and my look?” my smile widened, and finally I saw some happiness on Mahone’s face as well.

“Do you have any idea how you scared me?” he asked and became serious again straight away. I lowered my eyes. “I’ll change, I swear. But... promise me you’ll never do this again. And you’ll stay. With me.”

“I promise” I said quietly and as certain as I could. As Mahone gave a small kiss on my forehead, I tried to realize what just happened.

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justasparkwritings · 4 years

Text

Illicit Affairs: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 3

Previous: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 2

Pairings: Namjoon & Reader (Barely)

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Ratings: PG15

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Therapy and Swearing, Lots of Reminiscing

Summary: Under the guidance of Dr. Aarons, Jungkook and Namjoon work to rebuild their relationship.

Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

“Let’s debrief,” Dr. Aarons sits gently in her chair, hair grown out a little, the new length carefully tossed over her shoulder. She adjusts the pen in her hand and consults the list in her notebook. “We’ve covered a lot of ground in the last few weeks, but there’s one piece we haven’t discussed.”

“What is that?” Namjoon asks.

“There’s a new stipulation in Jungkook’s contract that says he can date, I understand, similar to yours, it was a consolation prize,”

“Mm, when the lawyers and I renegotiated the contracts, it seemed fair that he get something special in return,” Namjoon answers.

“Jungkook, how do you feel about it?”

“About dating?”

“Yes, with all you’ve been through, bringing another person into your life?”

“I feel, scared,”

“Can you explain that?”

“Scared that all of the trauma is going to come back, scared I’m not enough, scared I can’t love someone,”

“Why do you think that?” Namjoon asks.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Jungkook’s earnestness slips through his syllables.

“What don’t I get?”

“Joon, I’ve spent nearly a decade thinking that Big Hit loves me because I work myself to the bone, because I damage my body and push it past its limits. Love costs,”

“No it doesn’t,”

“Your love cost,”

“No,” Namjoon shakes his head. In the nearly two months they’ve spent in this room with Dr. Aarons, Namjoon has had his share of epiphanies. This, this is new and horrifying.

“Yes,”

“I,” Namjoon lunges at Jungkook, a foreign behavior that results in Dr. Aarons gasping. But he doesn’t fight him, he pulls him in, hugging him fiercely. “It doesn’t, it doesn’t Jungkook, there is no price to my love, I swear.”

“This is the last hurdle I want us to discuss before the rest of the members arrive this week.”

“Okay,” Namjoon sits back in his spot, leaving Jungkook’s arms empty.

“We have to separate the idea that the actions you carried out aren’t related to love,”

“How do we do that?”

“Jungkook, you’ve made a list of memorable moments with Namjoon, both positive and hurtful, we’re going to work through them to separate the different emotions during those moments. Sound good?”

“Yes,” The men reply.

Dr. Aaron’s projects a table on the empty wall to their right, a natural screen. Namjoon stares at the T-Chart and reads over the first event.

“Jungkook, why don’t you read the first one?”

“Namjoon asks for a hug on stage,” Jungkook reads.

“Why did you bring this memory to us?”

“It’s always stuck in my mind,”

“Can you elaborate on why?” Dr. Aarons smiles at the blush on Jungkook’s cheeks, before she turns to Namjoon. “Namjoon, what do you remember of that day?”

“That was, what, Love Yourself World tour? Yeah, I was just feeling so emotional, we were in Seoul before going to the US to play stadiums. It was all so overwhelming, to start in our hometown, to be there, as Bangtan with all we’d been through.”

“Jungkook, why did this stand out to you?”

“Namjoon-hyung isn’t one for physical affection, he’s not like Hobi-hyung or Jimin-hyung, he doesn’t walk around with a free hug sign… it was so special that he wanted to share that with me, with all of us on stage in front of everyone.”

“Was that moment pure love, or calculated action?” Dr. Aarons inquires.

“Pure love,” The men answer in unison.

“Let’s look at the next one.”

“Preparation for Billboard awards,” Jungkook reads.

“Which time?” Namjoon asks.

“2018,” Jungkook specifies.

“Oh, Fake Love era,” He nods his head, mind already racing through the string of events that made that year nearly unbearable.

“Yes,”

“Granted, we are only on the second event, but 2018 seems to have been one hell of a year. What was going on behind the scenes?”

The thing about being a therapist is that you always know more than your clients think. Particularly when they’re famous, and Billboard has created detailed lists of their accomplishments for the last few years, you tend to be clued in when a high-profile individual waltzes through your doors. Dr. Aarons had never worked with an idol of such status and power as Jungkook and Namjoon, and eventually OT7. So, to prepare, she naturally went in to read the facts. The lists of accomplishments, itemized by year, proved indelible to her work with them. She felt prepared when Jungkook walked into her office, and through their dedicated time each day, she learned more and more. Dr. Aarons could see in that first meeting how damaged his psyche was, she could see the betrayal and confusion, the years of misuse of his body, the systems woven into his DNA that he was going to have to relearn. But she also saw the drive, the hope, the soul in his midnight irises. Now, watching him interact with Namjoon, she was beginning to feel proud of all the progress he’s made.

“We were practicing nonstop,” Jungkook’s voice pulls her back.

Namjoon nods, “We were all falling apart.”

Dr. Aarons hums thoughtlessly, an empty gesture to the two whose minds are reliving the hell from that year. “This is when you considered breaking up?”

“Disbanding, yeah,” Namjoon nods again. “We met and talked about it, a lot. It was hard navigating the pressure of becoming a more global group and the pressures of the Korean music industry.”

“Hobi-hyung and Jimin-hyung released solo stuff, too,” Jungkook adds

“I did too,” Namjoon reminds him. “It was a busy year with a lot of promotions and changes, so many music videos, we played the Tokyo Dome,”

“Mic Drop Remix came out, and we had a song go platinum for the first time,”

“We started to win big at MNET and MAMA awards,”

“Wasn’t that the first time we were in Time Magazine?”

“Mm, the world voted us person of the year,” Namjoon remembers receiving the news, they had been ecstatic.

“But you wanted to disband?” Dr. Aarons wonders. “Why?”

“All that success was overwhelming,” Jungkook answers.

“Jungkook, you’re an introvert?”

“Yes,”

“I can imagine the toll that took on you, and still does, finding time to rest and recharge,” Dr. Aarons has had this conversation with him before, the need to manage his introverted personality, how he controls his body and the world around him. The tattoos, the piercings, the hair dying. All symptoms. All things she wasn’t sure Namjoon had realized.

“I guess I thought exercise was a way to manage it,” He shrugs.

“Jungkook, what stands out to you about Namjoon at this time?”

“He was the reason I joined, the promises he made. We were together wondering if it was worth it and I just felt like I’d sacrificed so much, my body was breaking, and he was sitting there wondering if we should quit.”

“Mm, did you feel betrayed?”

“Yes, by him,”

“What about the other members?”

“They didn’t see it that way, Namjoon-hyung didn’t promise them what he promised me,”

“You were feeling betrayed by him, and working your body to the max with minimal success,”

“Yes,”

“Namjoon, how were you feeling?”

“I felt like we were gaining success but at what cost?”

“That cost was me,” Jungkook says. “It’s always been me.”

“Jungkook,”

“Namjoon, we’ve been working on this, but there’s still a disconnect.”

“I don’t know how to make him understand what I was going through too,”

“Mm, Jungkook?”

“Ttaeron naui sum makhil ttaemyeon / Mojal nulleosseugo gyesok dallyeo” Jungkook replies.

“I know,”

“You don’t, you never will. You got love, you got a career, you got a life, you got it all.” Jungkook whispers.

“Was 2018, specifically the lead up to the Fake Love performance love, or calculated action?” Dr. Aarons presses.

“Both,” Jungkook answers.

“Elaborate,” She requests.

“Namjoon-hyung wanted to walk away because he loved us, he respected us, he wanted us to be happy. But pushing me in rehearsals and building me up by complimenting the results was calculated. The lies he told were planned. He knew what he was doing to me.”

“Namjoon, do you think that’s a fair assessment?”

“Yes. You were also working out so much because you had to lift your shirt every time, we did that stupid song,” Namjoon sits back, the air in his lungs deflating.

“Who decided that?” Dr. Aarons asks. “It’s something I’ve wondered about.”

“Choreographer,” They answer.

“Could it have been a calculated move?”

“Maybe,” Jungkook answers. Namjoon sits silently, staring at his hands. His silence tells Dr. Aarons everything she needs to know, it was.

“Hmm, alright next,”

“Bangtan performing Ddaeng together,” Jungkook reads.

“Tell me about that,”

“We had two concerts, like a showcase, and OT7 decided we wanted to perform Ddaeng together. We divided the vocal line, Hoseok took Jimin and Seokjin, Yoongi took Taehyung, and I had Jungkook. We rehearsed and then performed together,” Namjoon explains.

“What was special about this?”

“We never perform rap line songs with the rap line. It was a surprise to the fans, and something we all really wanted to do. Namjoon and I have always been close, and he let me really take the verse and make it mine for those performances,”

“Namjoon, why did you pick Jungkook?”

“I didn’t, it was just, decided,”

“Hobi-hyung took Jimin and Jin because they were the least experienced with rapping, and were happier to split a verse than have their own.”

“Taehyung wanted Yoongi’s verse, desperately wanted it.”

“I would’ve been happy with either, but I guess, I’ll take any opportunity to work with Joon-hyung,”

“How was rehearsing?”

“Really fun,” Jungkook says. “It was the most fun I’ve had in rehearsal, maybe ever,”

“It was thrilling to watch him take on this song, my verse and make it his own. Our styles are very different. It was fun to watch him play with it, make it his,”

“You still rapped parts of it with him,”

“We took turns at the beginning of the verse,” Jungkook answers. “Then I did the rest.”

“Love, or calculated?”

“Love,” Namjoon answers.

“Was it?” Jungkook asks.

“You think it would be calculated?” Namjoon asks.

“Show me how I could do more than just sing, push me to explore different parts of my job, continue my drive. Could’ve been calculated,”

“But you didn’t get into rapping at that point, you haven’t yet,”

“True,”

“From what I’m hearing, it sounds like love,” Dr. Aarons decides. “You two have come a long way in the last two months. I’m excited to talk to the other members and work through a few items with them too. How are you feeling about them coming?”

“I’m excited,” Jungkook tells her. “I haven’t seen them in a while, I miss them.”

“I’m happy we’ll get to work through this, though, very nervous,” Namjoon answers.

“Good. All things to take into consideration as we ready our minds for our meeting.”

Dr. Aarons bids the men adieu, and as they exit into the LA sun, Namjoon turns to Jungkook.

“You’ve come a long way,” Namjoon compliments.

“So have you,” Jungkook responds.

“Do you want to get dinner later?” Namjoon inquires, eyes hopeful. They haven’t had many 1-1 moments, a few work activities together, some studio time and lyric sessions, but limited social time. At first Joon hated it, but after meeting with Dr. Aarons a few times outside of their group work, he came to realize how important it was for each of them to be apart, separated during their therapy.

“I can’t, but maybe we can get coffee tomorrow before the guys show up?” Jungkook offers. It’s a consolidation prize, Namjoon can see it in the way he shrinks himself in the sunshine.

“Sounds good, I’m moving into a bigger place with them, are you coming too?” Namjoon inquires.

“No, I’m staying in mine. Dr. Aarons’ wants me to slowly transition back to work,” Jungkook informs him.

“That’s a good plan,” Namjoon nods, sunglasses masking the disappointment in his eyes.

“Yeah, so coffee, tomorrow?”

Namjoon nods, “Eight?”

“Sounds good,” Jungkook waves at Namjoon before turning and going his own way.

Jungkook has plans, plans that he’s sure will go from dinner through the evening until early morning when his new love has to go to work. It’s new, a few weeks old, but feels like being on stage: familiar, comfortable, challenging, exhilarating, home. Jungkook’s only told Dr. Aarons about it, and she’s given him cautious advice. He had asked Dr. Aarons if this was a good idea, a relationship, dating at all… potentially his first real relationship with someone who looked at him like, like no one had before. It was something that was just his, in his heart, to be shared with her and only her.

So maybe he was ditching and lying to Namjoon, but after nearly a decade, isn’t it time?

Next: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 4

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besanii · 4 years

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I've just started getting into period c-dramas and I see you reblogging about a few of them. And I was wondering if you had some recs? Thanks, I love SM and DH. it's okay if you don't answers this I know this may not be the purpose of your blog.

Hi nonny!

Period cdramas are my jam!!! I love period cdramas (and fantasy/wuxia/xianxia), although I used to watch primarily HK ones and only in recent years started to watch mainland ones. I’m going to assume you’ve watched The Untamed (陈情令) since you came to me and my blog is like...90% CQL lol, so I’ll leave that off this list XD

I’ll be providing YouTube links where I can, but please note that the subs on YouTube are not...the greatest. I don’t usually watch cdramas with subs, so I’m not sure which places to recommend. Sorry in advance!

Nirvana In Fire (琅琊榜)

I think everyone recs this at some point, but it’s just THAT GOOD. It’s set around the Northern and Southern Dynasties era and is primarily a political drama, but also has elements of wuxia (martial arts) mixed in. My favourite part of this drama was the intricate plot and also the wealth of interesting side characters that give the whole drama extra depth. There’s not much romance, but the individual characters and the plot is gripping enough without it.

(I tried to watch the sequel Nirvana in Fire II: The Wind Blows in Changlin (琅琊榜之风起长林), but I never really got into it? I should really try again, but at that point I was still really attached to the first one and wasn’t ready to let go lol. I’ve heard it’s good too!)

Legend of Ruyi (如懿传)

Okay I just finished watching this the other day and I really enjoyed it. It’s set in the Qing dynasty, during the rule of the Qianlong Emperor, and is about the life of Ulanara the Step Empress. I loved the strong female friendships in this (it’s rare in a Palace drama), and the complex dynamics between concubines of different ranks. The progression of Ruyi and Qianlong’s relationship feels very organic and (if you’re familiar with the history) is like a reverse-slowburn where you’re just really rooting for her to get out and when she finally stands up for herself it’s like \o/

(also cameo by everyone’s favourite shijie, Xuan Lu!)

The Story of Yanxi Palace ( 延禧攻略)

This is also set in the reign of the Qianlong Emperor, but the story is completely different. It’s about the Imperial Noble Consort Weigiya and her rise from a palace maid to the Emperor’s favourite consort. It’s funnier and more light-hearted than Ruyi, but it still has its fair share of dramas. The main character is a ‘non-traditional’ woman in that she’s outspoken, brazen and can be quite cruel when dealing with her opponents, but she’s still fundamentally a good person so you really root for her throughout the show.

I personally wouldn’t recommend watching this and Ruyi together or back-to-back because you’ll probably get whiplash from how different the characters are portrayed and how differently the history is interpreted, but it really highlights how much we don’t know about the palace women throughout Chinese history.

The Story of Ming Lan (知否知否应是绿肥红瘦)

NOT a palace drama this time! But it still explores the very complex family dynamics in China between wives and concubines and their respective children, about marriage and social hierarchy and how an unfavoured, illegitimate daughter of a low-ranking imperial official rises to become the wife of a powerful Marquis in the Song Dynasty. I’m a massive fan of Zhao Liying, the main actress, and her husband on the show is her husband IRL and they are the CUTEST HECKING COUPLE I swear to god. Their chemistry is OFF THE CHARTS.

Three Lives, Three Worlds, Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (三生三世十里桃花)

Xianxia (fantasy/martial arts) drama about an immortal Fox Spirit and her love story with the Crown Prince of the Nine Heavens that spans over three “lives”. There’s magic, sword fighting, questionable CGI and a lot of typical romance drama stuff like pining, misunderstandings, miscommunication and jealousy etc. I found this drama more compelling than its sequel Three Lives, Three Worlds, The Pillow Book (三生三世枕上书) because the characters were better fleshed out (although a lot of the same characters appear in both), and it was easier to get emotionally invested in them. Also I find Bai Qian a lot less...annoying than Fengjiu (who is so cute, but oh my god can be quite irritating sometimes).

Love and Destiny (三生三世宸汐缘)

Apparently this is meant to be set in a similar universe to Peach Blossoms, but it’s quite different. This is the love story between a young bird spirit and the God of War, which also spans over three lives. I found it a lot darker than Peach Blossoms, and a lot more tragic, but I enjoyed it a lot more than I had expected to when I first heard about it. I really liked the main character (Lingxi) here (she’s a good mix of Bai Qian and Fengjiu), and although I wasn’t quite sold on the development of her relationship with Jiu Chen at first, they won me over with some really heart-wrenching story lines.

(I don’t know if the playlist above is Eng subbed though, sorry!)

Other dramas that I liked are:

Empresses in the Palace (甄嬛传) - it got really messy in the end, but I really like Li Sun so I kept watching. It’s meant to be a prequel to Legend of Ruyi (above), set in the reign of the Yongzheng Emperor (Qianlong Emperor’s father). Don’t watch it on Netflix though, they really messed it up by trying to condense the story and it doesn’t work.

Legend of Fuyao (扶摇) - xianxia drama about a slave girl who was cursed as a child and sets off to collect magical artifacts to lift it. I got up to about Episode 20 and then life got in the way, so I didn’t finish it, but I’ve been meaning to get back to it one of these days. It stars Yang Mi, who plays Bai Qian in Peach Blossoms.

Princess Agents (特工皇妃楚乔传) - I really liked this drama, but it gets really dark and touches on some darker themes like rape, murder and torture, and the story gets quite messy and it ends on a cliffhanger (there was talk of a sequel a couple of years ago, but nothing’s come of it). Stars Zhao Liying (from Story of Ming Lan), who is so badass in action roles.

Noble Aspirations: The Legend of Chusen (青云志) - another xianxia drama about an orphan boy Zhang Xiaofan who joins the Qingyun Sect after the massacre of his village and falls in love with the daughter of the leader of the Ghost King (an enemy of the “righteous” sects). It starts off quite slow, took me about 5 eps to really get into it, but I enjoyed it for the most part. There’s a season 2 that kind of ends on a cliffhanger, and there’s been rumours of season 3 for years but nothing has ever come of it so it was quite disappointing. Stars Zhao Liying (again, I’m a massive fan haha), and is based on the same novel as Xiao Zhan’s movie Jade Dynasty (which I haven’t watched yet).

#besanii watches cdrama #drama rec #obviously I don't stray much from my preferred genres #but here you are #hey nonny nonny #asks

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narastories · 4 years

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Happy 291st Birthday, Lord John Grey! - A Natal Chart Reading for our dearest English Lord

This is very different from what I usually share here. By now you are all aware that we are celebrating the 291st birthday of Lord John Grey of Outlander.

For this occasion I took it upon myself to do a natal chart reading for him.

This is astrology applied to a fictional character, you have been warned. Continue at your own discretion.

Disclaimers:

I am not an astrologer

This is made in the spirit of appreciation of this character and his story. The purpose of this is pure fun on my part and hopefully to entertain some of you as well. Plus, maybe to provide some character-study-style insight or inspiration.

The character of Lord John Grey belongs to Diana Gabaldon - duh

John’s birth date is canon. The time has been arbitrarily chosen by me. Yes, it is important, because there are a lot of moving parts to a natal chart. I have literally cycled through the day by the hour, compared charts and decided on the one that I’ve found most fitting to his character. Which, is by the way best practice, when you do not know your or someone else’s exact birth time, but are somewhat familiar with their character. And considering that even if our dearest Lord John were an actual historical figure, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have his exact birth time from 1729, so I don’t feel bad about my process.

The examples I may give here are both from the books and the show, but nothing too specific that would be considered spoiler.

Lastly, this is all my interpretation both about the astrological meanings and of his character. Feel free to disagree with me. Politely, if you please.

So, in good Outlander time-travelling fashion let’s transport ourselves back to the day Lord John Grey was born and look up to the sky to see what it has to tell us.

Sun in Gemini

Lord John is a Gemini, which makes him clever and witty. He takes pride in his intellect and uses it to reach his goals. He is extremely adaptable, and instantly finds his footing in the most various settings, whether that’s London’s high society, a remote village in Scotland, or a two week fishing trip in the wilderness of the Colonies.

As someone born under the sign of the Twins there is a natural duality to his personality, that we can observe many times. He is capable of great tenderness, yet he can also be extremely fierce. Brutal is perhaps not the right word, but as much as he is a gentleman, we do see him engaged in physical fight, where he is by no means unskilled. You can’t say it’s always self-defense either.

He often has an internal conflict between heart and mind, between duty and emotion.

Geminis make good actors, and Lord John is exceptional in that too. He has to be as a gay man in the 18th century, which creates another duality between the life he’s supposed to live as a solider and as a Lord, a respected member of high-society and all the things he craves but has to hide.

As a Gemini he is a great communicator. Good with people, small talk comes easy for him, but engaging in a deep intellectual conversation is what really fires him up (Shakespear, anyone? :P) He is pleasant to be around and has a good sense of humour. His skills are diverse and he makes friends easily as he moves from one adventure to the other.

Geminis are prone to restlessness, which Lord John demonstrates beautifully by fidgeting with every little knick-knack that accidentally lands between his well-manicured hands. (Why does he stash them away in his pockets? I’m afraid astrology has no answer for his accidental kleptomania.)

His Sun is in the Ninth House of mental and physical explorations. Long journeys of the mind and the body are prominent in his life and essential to his personality. He speaks multiple languages and uses them to express himself on a very personal and natural level - aka swearing in the language most appropriate to the level of shit he’s gotten himself into this time.

Libra Rising

His rising sign is Libra, which sheds light on how he presents himself and what he wants to be known for. People with Libra Ascendant have natural grace and a good style. Lord John has all of that and finds himself often in the spotlight for it. He doesn’t have to struggle to be successful, but more than anything he wants to be known as a kind and loving person, and I would argue he succeeds in that.

His rising sign is important, because his natal chart is ruled by Venus, the planet of love and beauty. He has a romantic nature, and has the ability to connect with anyone, anywhere at any given time.

Libra rising people are said to be very attractive and compatible with almost anyone and as we say around here Lord John Grey would have chemistry with a lamppost.

This doesn’t just extend to romantic partners, although he is the happiest when in a romantic relationship. He puts others at ease and is genuinely likeable.

He feels obligated to balance the situations he finds himself in, therefore he is a natural diplomat always striving to harmonize and negotiate. It also makes him a good listener.

He has a great sense of fairness and injustice angers him. He is social, has a generally positive outlook on life and is inspired by nature and art.

Moon in Aquarius

The moon sign represents the hidden side of someone’s personality, their emotions, their needs. It is also jokingly referred to as the “drunk you”, so let’s see who Lord John is after a few glasses of good Scottish whiskey.

At first glance there is nothing scandalous here, Aquarius is the most favorable sign for the Moon to be in. This gives him sensitivity and good perception. He tries to understand others’ perspective, and is rather idealistic.

However, people with the Moon in Aquarius are prone to sudden outbursts. How many times does he put his foot in his mouth and gets punched or called out to a duel for it? Yeah…

He can also push other’s over the edge emotionally, exactly because he is so perceptive, which actually does happen when he is drunk. This is not out of malice, but either out of pure authenticity or just because he knows it will get the other person out of a place of stagnation.

He hides a rebellious, progressive and unconventional soul under that well-tailored waistcoat of his and it does come out sometimes.

Ideally he needs to have a healthy outlet for this, a partner who appreciates his sometimes idiosyncratic nature and occasional eccentricities. In turn he won't flinch in the midst of the most challenging situations, because he’s not afraid of chaos.

He wants to find solutions that work for everyone and can neglect his own needs in the process.

If that wasn’t enough air for you, he also has a-

Grand Fucking Trine in the air signs

Which is a pretty big deal. (Moon in Aquarius - Pluto in Libra - Neptune and Mars in Gemini)

These influences all help and strengthen each other. He has a brilliant mind, his Intellect is exceptional, he has a deep concern for law and duty, and an unusually sharp sixth sense of unearthing shocking revelations.

He has a magnetic personality, great ability to express himself, and therefore leaves a lasting impression on others. He is able to inspire and lead others and his need for harmony and cooperation makes him a great negotiator.

Lots and lots of air influence, which also means that in the battle of the mind and the heart unfortunately the mind wins and he lets his heart break instead.

Let’s get back to Venus and love for a sec.

With this much air in the chart for him everything starts in the mind. He experiences desire in the mind first. He must have a great intellectual connection with someone, before their relationship could blossom into a romance (Venus in Gemini). His entry point to sex is also through words (Mars in Gemini). Think about all the witty foreplay and low-key dirty talk in the LJG books. And also, khm chess games...

Where does that occasional intensity and dominance come from, you ask?

Well, he does have Uranus in Scorpio (semisquare Venus in Gemini, semisquare his Sun in Gemini) which would explain why he is not always displaying the lighthearted, fun, fleeting ways of a Venus-in-Gemini lover. He does have a lot of sexual partners. But then we’ve already established that he would have chemistry with a lamppost.

His chart is heavy on the 9th and 10th houses of long distance travel, career and public standing, and these are probably the most important aspects of his life. He is a comparatively lucky person, with a lively social life, charming personality and strong morality (Jupiter in Cancer).

His great trauma lies in what squares Neptune and Mars in the 9th house. There is an opposition between his sexuality and dreams, and what ideas he is allowed to express publicly. He is sensitive to what others think (Mercury in Cancer), picks up signals very well and is therefore acutely aware of what he can and cannot say.

Here lies the greatest disappointment and loss in his life (Saturn in Pisces). He chooses to make personal sacrifices for the benefit of others.

His Chiron is in the 7th house of partnership and marriage, which I also find interesting. This minor planet get’s called the Wounded Healer. It makes me think about what Claire and Jamie says about wounds and Lord John. And it also makes me think about his marriage.

Well, if that doesn’t make for an interesting personality, I don’t know what does. I hope this has been at least half as fun to read as it was to write. Let me know what you think.

#astrology #natal chart #Lord John Grey #Happy BDay Lord John Grey #fictional astrology #fun

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labyrinthof-fan-fiction · 4 years

Text

Two Ships Passing in the Night {2}

Series Masterlist

Spock x fem!Reader then Bones x fem!Reader

Second Person POV reader named. I’m trying to leave the name out as much as possible so it’s more immersive. Experimenting with this, we’ll see.

AOS

Summary: Goodbyes and new beginnings. Leonard pining.

A/N: Honestly, I do love Spock, and this was going to be just a Spock story, but my brain decided that Leonard needed to be in this. So there goes my planned out plot. It went poof.

Warnings: Pining, unrequited love, swears, sexual themes, mentions of sex, love triangle bull****, mild language

Word Count: 1,633

Leonard continued to watch over your care, he was going to for as long as he was able. He wondered how Starfleet had processed you becoming a Captain and being pregnant. He was proud of you, not that he would tell you that, at least outright. He had watched you falling head over heels for Spock and it had killed him. He knew that Spock had set parameters for the relationship, that it was a casual nature. He had been there the night you realized you had fallen for the Vulcan and jealousy had made a permanent home in the pit of his stomach. That night you had cried in his quarters, nursed a glass of whiskey, and fallen asleep in his bed. He slept on the couch that night.

The next morning you had wandered out of his room, and it was the most beautiful sight he had seen. Your hair was loose around your face, your eyes still clouded with the remainders of sleep, your eyes met his and you gave a small smile that shattered his heart, because he knew. You weren’t his. You probably never would be his. But he would be there for you, he would always be there.

He had dismissed his feelings for a long time, denying that after his ex-wife he would ever have feelings for another. He had built up walls around his heart. Somehow you slipped through them. And damn did he try to keep you out. But each time you’d waltz in to his med bay with an injury from something idiotic, at least in his professional opinion, you had done on Jim’s orders you put a crack in his walls. After you had walked in carrying Jim, you and Leonard had become friends, close friends. And he cherished the friendship, it seemed that his feelings were only a secret from you.

When he read the report of your pregnancy he could feel another nail driven into his heart. He remembered the day he had told you that your relationship with Spock was a bad idea. No amount of conversation would have convinced you that staying with Spock, given the guidelines of your relationship, was a bad idea. He had tried it once, it ended with you in tears and him sitting alone at the dining hall for a week. Jim never really got the full picture of what had happened between the two of you, and Leonard doubted he would ever tell him. He had been forgiven eventually, that day you both had made a pact to tell each other the truth and at the least, listen to what the other said, even if it hurt.

He sighed, the Enterprise was leaving in a week, you were being released from the hospital today. You would be happy with that news, it would give you the chance to finally see your ship. You, a Captain, it was fitting, from just seeing you handle Jim he knew you were meant for leadership. He had worked hard to find a doctor that he knew would care for you in space. It had taken time, most doctors were wary of the idea of an in-space pregnancy. Adding the interspecies nature of the pregnancy made several turn the prospect away. Doctor M’benga was slated to be onboard the Enterprise for the exploration mission. Leonard was curious as to why a doctor with Vulcan specialties would be onboard the ship, his curiosity was killed when he saw Spock’s name on the docket for the mission. Bastard, he would snarl in his mind. He should have cared more that the any could see his hatred of his crew-mate so openly, but you sitting in the hospital murmuring to your stomach made it truly hard for him to give a damn about anything else.

Finally, Doctor Ambrose agreed to the prospect, she was a kind woman, had experience in interspecies pregnancies. She had come to your room and introduced herself. You both got along well, that was important. He had caught a part of a conversation between the two of you a few days ago.

“That man of yours is a real piece of work.” Ambrose had said.

“He always has been.” You answered, rolling your eyes.

Ambrose nodded knowingly, “You’re a lucky woman, he will be a great father.”

“Oh, he’s not….” You began, Ambrose’s eyes grew wide.

“I’m sorry, my mistake.” She murmured, looking down.

“But he would be a great father.” You admitted, before turning to a more humorous tone. “He’s just not the father of this one.”

“Now that my dear is quite obvious,” the doctor laughed, the tension in the room dissipated, Leonard remained on the other side of the door until Ambrose left.

She noticed him outside the door and reached out, giving his arm a squeeze before continuing on her way.

He picked up your chart as he made his way to your room. Heart heavy as he looked up as he passed the entry, Spock was there. Of course he was. “Spock.” Leonard greeted curtly, with a sharp nod.

“Doctor.” The Vulcan answered in kind, his face turning back to you. “Congratulations again, Captain.” He walked out of the room, not making eye contact with the doctor who barely stepped out of his way.

Once he was out of sight, Leonard looked up at your face, a few tears had formed in the corners of your eyes. One making slow progress down your cheeks. “Jen?” He asked.

“He’s staying with the Enterprise.” You murmured. “He and Uhura patched things up.”

Leonard didn’t want to ask the question that was coming, but he had to. “Did you tell him?”

You glanced up, eyes still glassy and glinting with the fresh tears. “No.”

He sat beside you, his hand reaching up to your cheek to wipe the tear. “It’s going to be okay.”

You scoffed, “We promised to not lie to each other, Len.”

“Somehow, someway, you’re going to be okay. You and this kid have the universe going for you.” He said, his thumb rubbing your cheek. “You’re captain of a starship. You have one hell of a doctor going with you to take care of you. You are going to be such a good mother.”

Your eye met his, his thumb continued stroking your cheek. “And you?”

“You know you’ll always have me,” He murmured, you’ll always have me, my heart, my soul, every part.

You felt yourself lean into his hand, tears falling freely. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you. You knew that the Enterprise was leaving in a week, you were going to have to learn to live without the two most important men in your life. “You think I’ll be a good mom?”

“The best.” He answered, the corner of his mouth pulling into a half smile. Partly reassuring, partly sad. “Now let’s get you packed up and out of here. Hospital food is terrible.”

Spock made his way through the halls of the hospital, leaving you and the doctor behind. He kept a determined pace until he was outside in the fresh air. He knew that you had feelings for him, that was why he had told you that he was back with Uhura. That was not entirely the truth, but he knew another truth. You loved the doctor, much more than you ever could have loved him. Spock knew that you loved him, but he didn’t love you. He knew that all of this was not fair to you, the relationship, so he decided to try to fix his mistakes. If Spock wore his emotions like a human, he would have shown that he felt guilty. He had entered into his relationship with you to care for his needs, he knew you were willing and he took advantage of you. If anyone were to ask him, he would fully admit that he was in the wrong the entire time, not that anyone ever would.

You had been odd to him today, not cold, but dismissive. Which was odd for you. He had seen you mad before, enraged even. But not dismissive. You had listened to him, he knew that much, but you seemed slightly uncomfortable. He could not put his finger on it. Something was off. Perhaps it had just been his presence, he had told you that he had planned to aid in the rebuilding of New Vulcan, and now he was committing to the mission with the Enterprise. Shock and confusion often affected humans oddly. When shrouded in anger and hurt, there was no way that one, even as intelligent as he, could definitively anticipate what one would do.

He glanced back at the hospital, before turning away, his feet carrying him at a faster pace. He cared for you, but he didn’t love you. It was best for you that he left. His mind was filled with flashes of nights, nights where flesh met flesh, where the scent of sex hung in the air until morning. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, this was best for you. After putting himself first, he had to make this choice. Your wellbeing, that was what mattered. You. He was surprised to find that part of him was sad, but he pushed that deep down inside of him. With him out of the picture, you had the chance to be truly happy. You and the doctor. That was if you ever opened your eyes to see what was in front of you. And now, he had put himself far behind you, that was where he belonged. His feet lead him back to his room, he opened the door to find it empty, he sat down and began to meditate, memories still floating in his mind.

Part 3

Taglist (I’m so excited that I actually have one of these, holy moly! Sorry, done now.)

@elizabeththefandomgirl (I’m so glad you enjoyed the first part, here’s part 2!)

#star trek imagine #star trek aos #star trek fic #star trek #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy #spock #leonard bones mccoy/oc #bones x reader #bones/reader #spock x reader #spock/reader #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy/reader

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perfeggso · 4 years

Text

Noir (yutae)

Week I pt. 1

Tokyo – fall of 1983: Nakamoto Yuta is quickly rising in the ranks of one of Japan’s most notorious yakuza families, and he’s poised to climb even further if he can stop himself from being ruined by the pretty Korean boy who’s shown up out of nowhere.

Glossary of Japanese words

Characters: Yuta x Taeyong + NCT ensemble, Twice J-line (for funsies)

Genres: Gang!AU, angst, smut, fluff, 1980s!AU

Warnings: graphic violence, swearing, minor character death, alcohol use, mentions of drugs, period-typical homophobia, xenophobia, BDSM

Rating: 18+

Length: 1.7k (will progressively get way longer)

Yuta was easily recognizable. He was of about average stature, but that was the first and last thing about him that could be described as “average.” Yuta reckoned that anyone living or working in the areas in and around Ueno Park and Akihabara could describe him to the police if they felt like it, but they all knew better, didn’t they? He had a striking face, which others often remarked could have landed him in an idol group in another life. He kept his hair in an undercut which swept over his head suggesting ever so faintly the shape of a mullet, but he would never call it that. Mullets were for Mötley Crüe, not for men of taste. Although he kept the bottom of the haircut in its original black, the long part was died white – an aesthetic choice that Yuta not only liked but which also made him feel nearly invincible in its destruction of his anonymity.

Yuta was freshly 24, a prodigy of sorts in his own world of the Inagawa-kai family, where he had been promoted to Shategashira lieutenant last year and was now the commander of a small gaijin and zainichi unit operating in Shitamachi. There was gossip that his position was due only to his relationship with Oyabun Hirai Goro’s daughter, but he knew better than that which was all that mattered.

It was late October and a crisp evening as Yuta weaved his way down Chūō Avenue. He drew plenty of looks: of fearful recognition but also of admiration from certain young women. Not one for subtlety, he wore a double-breasted dark blue snakeskin suit and a jumble of rings and piercings. A scar transversing his right eyebrow and the tendrils of tattoos reaching out from his sleeves and collar confirmed his connection to the underworld for anyone who saw him, but that was alright if it gave Yuta some space to walk in the crowd.

He took a right into an arcade where Mark was sitting absently behind a yellow desk and flipping through the pages of the latest Young Magazine installment of Akira . When he saw Yuta, he immediately straightened to attention.

“Good evening Shategashira!”

“At ease,” Yuta said casually, “how’s business today?”

Mark went back to slouching over his comic and shrugged as Yuta surveyed the room.

“Average,” hazarded Mark, “I’ve been hearing the machines in back pretty consistently my whole shift and Jungwoo’s still somewhere fixing shit and trying to get people to buy computers.”

Yuta rapped his knuckles against the desk. “Having any luck?”

Mark shrugged again. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Yuta withdrew from the desk with a performative huff and straightened his jacket. Sometimes he wondered if he should be less familiar with his subordinates, but he couldn’t imagine acting strict like some other lieutenants; he liked most of his men too much to be anything but personable. So as usual, Mark’s cautious sass went unacknowledged.

Yuta made his way to the back of the low-ceilinged white room. The walls were lined with cubbies full of manga, tech and porn magazines, and cassettes; string lights; mirrors; Nintendo arcade games; and in the center of the space, you could peruse tables of PC’s in various states of disuse alongside Mazinger Z figurines. Jungwoo had stationed himself in the middle of the clutter, fiddling with the hard drive of an ’82 Apple.

“Jungwoo!”

“Shategashira!”

“At ease.”

“This just came today!” remarked Jungwoo, referring to the computer. “The computing power on this thing is off the charts! A shame I have to fuck with it.”

“A necessary sacrifice,” said Yuta, not giving a damn about the technical side of this business since he couldn’t begin to understand it. “How many have you sold?”

“Seven today,” said Jungwoo, sinking into a chair with his whole weight and pushing at his cuticles with the end of a screwdriver, “so that’s 225,000 yen, give or take. I can get the books if you want.”

Yuta smiled, catlike. “No, that’s alright. Good work. Although I’m confident you can do better still.”

Jungwoo stood again sharply. “I assure you I can, Shategashira !”

“Good.”

In reality this was not a bad amount of revenue for the day so far. The Inagawa-kai paid the property and business taxes on the building to shore up favor with the local government but didn’t technically own it. The real owners covered all other expenses and utilities, meaning the Inagawa people ultimately could keep more of their profits than the average business owners, and this setup wouldn’t change because the landlords knew the local precinct had Inagawa’s back and that Yuta – or if not him, someone else – would not hesitate to pull a katana on them if they suddenly took issue with the arrangement.

No, thought Yuta, this is good. Jungwoo was selling near his quota, and with the viruses he had installed, many of the unsuspecting customers would eventually be bringing their devices back for costly repairs.

Yuta looked at the unassuming door behind Jungwoo.

“Johnny in there?” he asked.

Jungwoo nodded curtly in response and Yuta passed him to open the door, stepping into the windowless back room. Smoke hit Yuta instantly, warming his lungs along with the stinging scent of hard liquor. The room may have been devoid of natural light, but it did have plenty of colorful artificial illumination: a wall of well-populated pachinko machines making brassy noises so loud Yuta could have sworn they were coming from inside his skull. Each machine was a hypnotizing box of glowing neon, flashing lightbulbs, and shiny silver balls clacking in a perverse rhythm with the players’ chorus of disappointed groans and victorious whoops. The men at the pachinko machines were all around middle age, smoking their heads off and depressing the shit out of Yuta.

Yuta swept his gaze over the rest of the room; the weathered purple booths on the other wall, the checkerboard tile on the floor, the mildewy walls; until he landed on Johnny. He was in the bar in the back, under a dusty glass chandelier, smoking with a young woman seemingly attached to the front of his mahogany suit.

Johnny didn’t notice Yuta until he was a few paces away, and Yuta sensed a flicker of disappointment on Johnny’s face when he did look up, although Yuta couldn’t reproach him for that and he did well to hide it.

“Ah, Shategashira ,” Johnny greeted languidly, and Yuta acknowledged him back with a nod of his head. Johnny was a few months older than Yuta, so he could afford to be more casual with his superior. The only reason Johnny didn’t have Yuta’s position was that he indulged too much in life’s vices and wanted to keep it that way.

“Can we speak somewhere a bit quieter?” Yuta asked, and Johnny nodded, whispering something to his companion before leading Yuta out the back doorway into an alley. Yuta breathed the crisp autumn air in once outside, a relief from the stuffiness of the pachinko bar. Yuta reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of cigarettes and a lighter, smoking to match Johnny and giving Johnny time to get situated next to him against the wall. Yuta had to look up to speak since Johnny was a good bit taller than him and when he did, Johnny’s face was sharper than usual in the shadows of twilight. Yuta took a long drag of his cigarette.

“So,” said Johnny, “you know when yet?”

“A month and a half from today,” said Yuta, “gives us enough time to finish preparing, I think.”

Johnny nodded, grinding the burnt-out end of his cigarette into the brick behind him. “Good. Can you relay the details? What do I need to do?”

“You and I and the other Sokaiya members will be going into the Mitsubishi executive offices with the goal of getting 130,000,000 yen and the right to ship arms and drugs to our Triad allies in Hong Kong disguised alongside the company’s car and electronics exports.”

“Goro’s getting ambitious, huh?” Johnny figured aloud.

“Yes,” Yuta answered, “in return we’re offering our own men as indefinite security details for commerce in the South China Sea and for members of the executive board, personally.”

“Mercenaries and bodyguards, I see.”

“You could call it that.” Yuta took another drag of his cigarette and let the smoke escape his mouth in a meandering cloud. Once it dissipated, he said, “but as to your role, you’re in charge of gathering information on Sato Kenichi. He runs Mitsubishi’s finances and although we’ve found ample evidence to use against the CEO and I’m still working on some leads for the VP – Miyazaki is his name – we need dirt on as many of the higher ups as possible. They can’t refuse us or we’re dead.”

Johnny nodded, lighting himself another cigarette. “Sato Kenichi. Understood. Any leads on the guy?”

“Yes, I have them here.” Yuta pulled a small sealed folder out of the interior of his jacket and handed it to Johnny, who slipped it into one of his inner pockets without opening it.

“Thank you, Shategashira .”

“Just do a good job,” said Yuta, adding, “please.” Then he dropped his cigarette to the asphalt and ground it out with the heel of his boot. “We have almost enough stock to make the shareholder’s meeting so that shouldn’t be a problem. Also, the Triads are sending a group of emissaries to advise us on their priorities and join us at the meeting. They should be here in a few weeks or so. That is all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go meet the princess for our joint birthday dinner. We decided to combine this year.”

Yuta and Johnny pushed themselves off the wall and exchanged conspiratorial smiles.

“Tell her I said omedetou ,” said Johnny, backing away to return to his post at the dingy Pachinko bar, pulling the packet on Sato Kenichi out of his pocket and passing it between his hands. “I can’t wait to see what this Sato-san gets up to in his spare time. These executive types are all extortionists and perverts. And they call us the criminals.”

Yuta chuckled to himself. It was ironic, wasn’t it? He saluted Johnny and turned on his heel with a “work hard, please,” and that was that. The sun was setting, hot pink. He’d be late to meet Momo if he didn’t hurry, but this was important business after all. A month and a half. What could possibly go wrong in such a short time?

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