#it feels a bit like a milestone--like here's something you chose for yourself and stuck with

[faillen]

realized moments ago that i'm almost out of my fragrance of choice (the pran fragrance!) and truly like. idk, adulthood is a series of letting yourself use up the things that make you feel good, huh?

[cherienymphe]

Too Good (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, CLASSISM, a surprise crossover

{IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI}

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary:  you’ve worked for the Thrombeys for years and your professional, borderline detached, attitude has always led Ransom to take you as another low class citizen who hates the rich. A surprise run in at your engagement party proves that isn’t the case at all: it’s just his family you hate.

~

“You staying for the soiree tonight?”

You paused in your cleaning, glancing up at Meg as she pulled from her juul.

Winter break had been well under way for a few days now and the entire Thrombey family had been trickling into Harlan’s home one by one. The famous writer always welcomed his family during the holidays, and while you admired his generosity, you hated that it put you face to face with the rest of the snobbish bunch.

Walter Thrombey was spineless and his wife, Donna, wasn’t much better. His wife at least had the tendency to steer clear of drama while Walt, on the other hand, was always trying to tell Harlan how to run his business. These were things you could overlook if it weren’t for the fact that they’d managed to raise a Nazi in the making. Some of Donna’s comments during politics talk told you that this wasn’t exactly a case of a rebelling teenager.

Joni was harmless but annoying at best. It wasn’t surprising that she and Meg were the only ones you could tolerate. They were far less snobby than the rest, but there was still something about them that didn’t make you completely comfortable around them. Meg loved to refer to Marta, Harlan’s nurse, as family, but occasionally you found yourself wondering how sincere that really was. You often told Marta that she shouldn’t have told Meg the truth about her family, but Marta was a trusting girl.

Linda, Harlan’s daughter, walked around with far too much self-importance all because she considered herself to be self-made. You chose your words carefully because you were positive anyone could be as successful as she was if they too got a small loan of a million dollars from their father. Her husband, Richard, was a racist who would balk at such a label. He’s full of micro aggressions and sometimes just downright aggression. He loved the money that came with being married into the Thrombey family, and considering he’d signed a prenup, it was no secret that the man lived in fear of losing everything with one wrong move.

Perhaps you were a bit harsh in how you looked at Linda and Richard, but they gave you more than enough reasons to think negatively of them, and the biggest reason of all was due to drift in with the wind any moment now. Joni had reached some milestone in her business that was apparently quite a big deal, and so Harlan had offered to throw a celebration. You were invited, not as help, but as a guest. You were still undecided and that was what you told Meg.

She exhaled, the sickly-sweet scent filling your lungs as you slid the rag along the kitchen counter.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a better night planned with that boyfriend of yours?”

You chuckled, throwing her a small smile.

“Maybe I do,” you coyly replied.

She took another drag before replying.

“To be honest, I wouldn’t blame you if you ditched us for a hot date. Ransom is gonna show within the next three hours or so, and you know he can barely stand the sight of you,” she said.

“The feeling is mutual,” you murmured, turning to face her as you finally finished.

She laughed, offering you the juul. With a sigh, you accepted it, figuring that you deserved it after your day. You’d been cleaning along with Fran nonstop all day in order to prepare for tonight.

“Why does he hate you so much anyway?” she wondered out loud.

You pressed the plastic to your lips and handed it back to her just before exhaling.

“Because I think he’s a piece of shit,” you answered.

She rolled her eyes with a crooked smile.

“We all do,” she deadpanned.

“Yeah, but…you’re family. It’s kind of expected…especially in your family. Besides, I disliked him the very moment I met him. I never even gave him the benefit of the doubt because I saw right through him, and he knows I see right through him.”

You gathered your cleaning supplies.

“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure why that gets underneath his skin so much. I know I can’t be the only person he’s met who feels the same way, but maybe it has something to do with his pride or whatever. Who knows? I should get ready to go, anyway.”

There was a smirk on Meg’s red lips.

“I knew you had a hot date.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I wouldn’t call it a hot date or anything, but spending time with my boyfriend does beat the alternative,” you told her.

She followed you out of the kitchen, pouting as you threw on your coat and grabbed your purse.

“You hardly talk about him that sometimes I forget you have a beau waiting at home for you when you leave here,” she complained.

“Meg, you know I like to keep my work life and personal life as separate as possible,” you reiterated, looking for your keys.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re so uptight about that,” she waved you off.

You threw her a look.

“You know how your family can be,” you told her matter-of-factly.

Meg playfully scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she followed you to the door.

“Are you ashamed of us?” she questioned as you walked out.

You stuck your head back in, hand on the doorframe as you smiled.

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’ll be back first thing tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” you chirped. “I can’t leave Fran to clean up the mess that will no doubt be left in the morning.”

“Drive safe,” she called as you descended the steps.

You were nearing your car when the purr of another sounded from the long driveway. You paused as you realized just who was making their way in and you wasted no time in unlocking your car. His light-colored vintage one slid in beside yours, and you sank into your seat just as he hopped out.

You didn’t spare him a glance as you started your vehicle, but you could feel his cold blue gaze boring into you. Your suspicions were proven right when you went to close your door only to be thwarted. His large hands pressed down onto the top of your door, and when you looked up at him, there was a mocking smile on his pink lips.

“Y/N,” he greeted. “Leaving so soon?”

You couldn’t see his eyes for his dark shades, but you just knew they were mocking you too.

“Yes,” you tersely replied, pulling on your door.

You huffed when he, and your door by extension, didn’t budge.

“That’s a real shame. I was looking forward to seeing what you look like when you’re not on your hands and knees…scrubbing, that is.”

“I have a prior engagement,” was your simple answer, pulling on the door again.

“Ah. I think I did hear Meg mention a boyfriend once. Let me guess… You’ve got a homecooked meal waiting for you in whatever rundown apartment you live in? Maybe you’ve got a date planned. Feeding the homeless? Singing to less fortunate children?”

You clenched your jaw, just waiting for him to back away.

“That is more up your alley, right? You’ve got to do something to make up for hanging around us snobs all day lest we wear off on you.”

You stared through your windshield, looking away from him with so much dismissal you were sure you heard him growl at you.

“Are you finished?” you wondered.

He scoffed, staring at you for a moment longer before eventually backing away. You slammed your door shut and locked it without hesitation. With a sigh, you finally backed away, pushing all thoughts of Ransom Drysdale out of your mind as you drove home.

Soft music littered the air as well as the aroma of food as you stepped inside of your house. You dropped your purse and keys onto the table beside the door and peeled your coat off as confusion filled you. You didn’t recall having planned anything for the evening, but you shouldn’t have been too surprised. Your boyfriend was always going out of his way to treat you.

You looked around for him as you approached the kitchen, confusion growing when you saw no sign of him. You had just opened your mouth to call for him when familiar arms wrapped around you. You jumped a bit before relaxing into his embrace, a smile on your lips as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“Welcome home,” he purred.

“…and what a nice welcome it is. Is there some occasion that I missed?”

He inhaled, humming as he thought.

“Mm, no. None that I can think of. Can’t I spoil you? Especially after the day I’m sure you’ve had?”

At the mention of work, you groaned, and he chuckled.

“How was work, by the way?” he wondered, massaging your shoulders now as he walked you through the house.

“Tiresome,” you honestly replied. “They’re having some celebration of sorts tonight, so it was up to me and the other housekeeper to make sure the entire place was in tip top shape.”

He paused.

“You weren’t invited?” he asked, an iciness in his voice that was familiar to you whenever you talked about work.

“I was, but…”

You shook your head as you trailed off.

“You know that I don’t like to be around those people any longer than I need to be.”

You weren’t exaggerating when you told Meg that you liked for your work and personal life to be completely separate. The Thrombeys knew absolutely nothing about your personal life, including your boyfriend, and the reverse was the same. While your boyfriend knew that you worked for a rich family on the side to help with graduate school, he didn’t know what family it was, and that was how you liked it. Especially considering how tight knit elite circles were, there was always a chance he knew them.

“It’s almost over, hun. You’re almost done with your degree, and soon you won’t have to go back there ever again,” he murmured. “Of course, you wouldn’t be there in the first place if you’d just let me…”

You scoffed as he trailed off, and you turned around in his arms just as you two reached the stairs. You rested your hands on his shoulder, gazing into his blue eyes as he fought a smirk. You playfully narrowed your eyes at him before running a hand through his dark hair.

“Charles Blackwood… How many times do I have to say it?”

“Providing for you will hardly make a dent in my fortune, Y/N,” he sighed.

“I don’t care. There’s no reason you should pay for my tuition when I can do it myself. We barely compromised on me living here instead of my old apartment,” you grumbled, still miffed about it.

“It’s been what, 2 years since you moved in? Don’t tell me you’re still sour because I made more sense than you did during the argument,” he said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not important. You are not paying for my tuition. Like you said, I’m so close. I only have to put up with that family for a few more months and then…”

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his.

“I’m all yours,” you whispered.

“You’re all mine anyway,” he haughtily replied, deepening the kiss. “…after you get cleaned up.”

He gently pushed you away.

“I’ve run you a hot bath and its waiting for you,” he said.

You threw him a confused smile.

“Seriously, what’s the occasion?” you wondered.

“I’ll tell you later. Go on,” he urged, shooing you up the stairs.

With one last skeptical look thrown over your shoulder, you followed his demands. You didn’t think twice about getting undressed when you entered the lavish bathroom. Rose petals floated along the steaming water and the lighting was low, candles lit all over the room. You sank into the tub with a low moan, relieved to finally be off of your feet.

You did your best to enjoy the moment, doing everything you could to keep tomorrow off of your mind. Like Charles said, it was almost over. You only had a few months left, but you were sure that you’d murder Ransom before then. You scoffed at the thought of the dark-haired prick.

Hugh “Ransom” Drysdale was the embodiment of everything you hated. He was selfish, obnoxiously arrogant, spoiled, and there was a complete lack of reality that surrounded him that made your lips curl. Him being blissfully unaware of matters of the real world wasn’t the problem at hand. It was his contentment in his ignorance that was the problem, and Linda and Richard had raised him that way.

It was why you could never understand their displeasure with his attitude. Their annoyance and grievances with their son never failed to confuse you. Ransom was the way he was purely because of them. The spoiled brat did not raise himself. Forcing the blue-eyed devil out of your brain, you finished washing up. When you exited the bathroom, a gorgeous, and no doubt expensive, nightgown was waiting for you on your bed.

It kissed your feet as you descended the stairs, and you brushed your hands over the wine-colored garment as Charles faced you. He was placing your plates on the table when you entered the dining room, and his eyes lit up when he looked at you.

“You look a thousand times better now that you’re more relaxed,” he said, kissing your cheek as he pulled your chair out.

“I feel a thousand times better,” you agreed. “I really needed that. Thank you.”

Dinner was a talkative affair. You only discussed work for a short while longer before asking Charles about his day. He told you about some clients, one of them a bit of a pain, but nothing he wasn’t used to. You found yourself smiling at him as he droned on, just basking in the sound of his voice, and eventually, he stopped when he noticed.

“What’s the matter?”

You shook your head at him, finishing your wine.

“Nothing. I just…like hearing you talk,” you confessed.

He rolled his eyes and stood, approaching you.

“You’re so sappy,” he complained, leaning down to press his lips to your cheek, taking your empty glass.

“More wine?” he asked, grabbing the bottle.

“Please,” you said.

He placed the refilled glass before you, moving into the kitchen.

“Don’t tell me you have dessert planned too,” you called over your shoulder, bringing the glass to your lips.

With the day you had, you emptied it in no time. He didn’t respond and you were going to say something else, but your mind went blank when the light caught something at the bottom of the glass. Your mouth parted as you eyed it, blinking a few times, wondering if you were imagining things. Shakily, you stood up, turning to call for Charles when you nearly tripped over him.

He was kneeling…on one knee, blue eyes gazing up at you as you gaped at him. Startled, you dropped the glass, and before you could shout, he caught it, preventing a mess to clean. You fought to say something.

“Charles…”

“You’re mine just as I am yours, and I want to make it official…”

You softly exhaled as he continued.

“I know you hate it when I spend money on you,” he continued, pouring the ring into his hand. “…but it’s just how I know to show I care. I would buy you the stars…if I could…”

He held the ring up to you.

“I know you want to be a lawyer and rule the world, so let me rule it with you…”

He took your hand, pressing his lips to your fingers as he looked at you from beneath his lashes as your full name fell from his pink lips.

“…will you marry me?”

It was insane how quickly you answered, how smoothly the ‘yes’ fell from your tongue. Marriage had come up maybe once during the entire relationship, and it’d been so long ago that you’d forgotten how the conversation went.

Once the ring was on your finger, it took no time at all for him to sweep you up into his arms. It appears that you had spoken too soon, because there was indeed a mess to clean when Charles cleared the table in one sweep, depositing you on it before attacking you like a man starved.

You didn’t keep count of how many times he fucked you that night, on every surface he could possibly lay you on. He loved the feel of your hands pressing against him, the cool band of the ring pressing into his skin. You didn’t feel guilty at all for calling in the following morning, opting instead to spend the day in bed with your fiancé.

You walked out of Harlan’s office with a small smile. He’d taken your abrupt resignation better than you’d hoped, but then again, Harlan always had been a kind man. The months you’d originally had left had been shortened to a week. When asked why, you simply showed Harlan your ring, watching his crinkly eyes widen at the sheer size before a youthful laugh left his lips.

“Well, congratulations,” he’d said.

You’d thanked him, telling him that the next few months or so would be spent planning the wedding. Neither your or Charles wanted to waste any time. Harlan respected how private you were about your personal life, so he didn’t press for information, only saying that your fiancé was a lucky man.

Harlan’s voice carried, you’d always known that, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to find Meg and Fran waiting outside of the door when you exited. Their eyes sparkled in anticipation, and with a playful sigh, you reluctantly lifted your left hand.

Embarrassment flooded you when they shouted, gasps and ooh’s and aah’s leaving their lips as they admired the ring. It started to attract the attention of the rest of the family, and you shrunk in on yourself. Meg suddenly took your hand, lips parted.

“Y/N, this…this cost a fortune,” she breathed.

You cringed.

“Please, please don’t tell me how much. I was kind of hoping that since it’s one of those big diamonds its really more show than what it’s worth,” you said.

“Not likely,” Meg scoffed, running her finger over it.

“You sure know how to pick them,” Fran said, lighthearted jealousy coating her tone.

“Oh my God,” Joni dragged out as she took your hand, mouth gaping as her eyes flickered between you and the ring. “This is from the new-.”

She cut herself off when Meg nudged her, signaling that you didn’t need to know.

“Please, I’d sleep much better at night if I didn’t know how much this cost. You can speculate amongst yourselves, but leave me out of it,” you laughed.

You ran into the rest of the family, sans Ransom, as you walked away. They immediately pulled you into hugs, congratulations on their lips. They all took turns admiring the ring and telling you how lucky you were. When you finally broke away, you got started on your job. You were much happier to do it now that you only had one more week left.

You were upstairs, cleaning a spare room when you finally ran into Ransom. You had turned to exit only to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. A light blue sweater adorned his frame, making the color of his eyes pop even more.

“Hugh,” you barely acknowledged, moving to get past him.

The asshole that he was, he pressed his hand to the other side of the frame, blocking you in as he smirked down at you. Before you could react, he was gripping your left hand in his own, holding it up to his face as he looked down his nose at your ring. He let out a low whistle.

“I suppose Meg wasn’t kidding. That’s an expensive piece you’ve got there,” he murmured.

You snatched your hand out of his when he brushed his thumb over your skin. You pursed your lips as you glared at him.

“Thank you,” you curtly replied.

When he didn’t move, you heaved a sigh. It seemed that he was determined to make your last week as miserable as possible.

“Judging by your taste in men, I do have to wonder how he can afford it,” he said, just shy of an accusation.

You scoffed.

“…and how would you know my taste in men? You don’t know anything about me,” you argued.

He smirked down at you, disdain in his eyes.

“I know that you wouldn’t be caught dead with…let’s say, a man like me. I’m simply curious is all. I would hate for you to find yourself in an embarrassing situation all because it turned out to be stolen,” he quietly replied, lips curling over his teeth. “…or fake.”

You clenched your jaw, tempted to slap him at his insinuation.

“You’re right. My fiancé isn’t a man like you, and that’s how I know it isn’t stolen…or fake, so you don’t have anything to worry about,” you snidely replied, shoving past him.

You could feel his eyes boring into your back as you descended the stairs.

“Sweetheart, you look amazing,” Charles purred, hand tightening along your waist as you adjusted your strap again.

“I just… I feel so out of place,” you murmured.

You and Charles had rented the most extravagant hall to host your engagement party. It was just a taste of the life you were marrying into, and you’d accepted that when you said yes, but it was going to take some getting used to. While you were familiar with some of Charles’ friends, it had never occurred to you that everyone who was anyone would also be invited. Wealthy business partners and elite families alike were in attendance, eager to see who the Charles Blackwood had popped the question to.

Your friends and family seemed to blend right in though, much more receptive to this lifestyle than you were. It was your own mother who’d picked your dress and shoes, and a close cousin who’d done your hair and makeup. You decided to entrust them with the task more often the minute you saw Charles’ face, eyes darkening as he took in the golden number you had on. It swished around your feet as you walked and tastefully clung to you in all of the right places.

“Relax,” he murmured, kissing your cheek.

You laid your hand on his as you did just that. The two of you stood on the spiral staircase near the entrance, greeting everyone as they came in. A greeting was already on your lips as the next set of guests entered, but your words died in your throat as you eyed them.

You turned your head away, back almost completely to the entrance as you looked down. Charles laid his hand on your shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Why are the Thrombeys here?” you wondered.

He frowned.

“They’re old friends of the family. We hardly speak, the last time being years ago, but I felt it polite to invite them, nonetheless. How do you…?”

He trailed off as your eyes met his, realization bleeding into them.

“Ah,” he quietly said, blinking. “I feel silly for not connecting the dots sooner…”

“Don’t,” you said, placing your hand on his chest. “I wanted to keep my personal life private from them and the same goes for my work life with you. You know how stressed I get talking about them and I just…”

“No, I get it,” he murmured. “Let me guess… The ‘asshole’ you often refer to is none other than Ransom. He hasn’t changed at all, I see…”

He nodded over your shoulder as he said this, and you nodded. His lips thinned into a line, but he simply pulled you closer as you turned back around. Your smile was strained as the familiar faces got closer.

“Y/N, you never told us that your fiancé was none other than Charles Blackwood himself,” Joni cried out, kissing each of your cheeks. “When we saw the names on the invites, well, I just said to myself there’s no way!”

You let out an awkward chuckle as Linda did the same.

“It never really came up, I suppose,” you lamely replied.

Meg pulled you into a hug, making you swear to tell her everything, and you could hear Richard and Walt congratulating Charles as Donna hesitantly hugged you as well. Ransom was quiet, and you found that odd. He never ran out of insults to hurl at you, but then again, you supposed he was saving face.

Walt and Richard extended their congrats to you again, and you swallowed when the questions started. How did you meet? How long have you been together? How did he propose? Deep down, you knew what they really wanted to know. How had you bagged him? What did he see in you? How did you even meet, what with your differing social circles and all? Charles was more than happy to answer all of them for you, sensing your discomfort, and you found your eyes connecting with a familiar blue pair.

Ransom was dressed as impeccably as everyone else, black suit adorning his fit frame as he gazed at you. Unable to hold his heavy stare, you glanced away, relief flowing through you when they finally departed to go partake in the festivities. Charles pressed his lips to the side of your head when they finally left, breathing you in.

“I won’t invite them to the wedding,” he offered.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“No, it’s fine. It’d be odd not to, I suppose. Like you said, they’re old friends of the family, not just my employers…”

“Former employers,” he corrected with a smile.

You happily sighed, smile widening.

“Ah, yes. It feels good to be reminded of that,” you replied, squeezing his hand as he pulled you along.

Yesterday had been your last day which was why you were gutted to see them again…and so soon. Your farewells the previous day seemed silly now. Embarrassing even, since you’d been so sure that would be the last you’d see of them. Ransom had just made your last week so unbearable that you’d been overeager to leave the house.

Every sly comment he threw at you was meant to get under your skin, to make you uncomfortable. You suppose that had been his goal ever since you started working for his family. The dislike was mutual sure, but at least yours was valid. Ransom treated people he viewed as less than like garbage. He was a classist prick, and there was no doubt in your mind that his sour mood had everything to do with a low rate citizen like you joining his world, so to speak.

After having too much to drink, you slipped away from your fiancé with a kiss on his cheek.

“Where are you off to?” he wondered.

“I have to use the little girl’s room,” you whispered in his ear.

He chuckled, urging you along.

“I told you to slow down,” he whispered back with a smile. “Hurry back.”

“Will do,” you sang, leaving him with a peck on the lips.

The two bathrooms downstairs were all full, and considering how full your bladder was, you had no other choice but to climb the stairs to the second floor. You’d made a deal with the owners that all of the festivities would be held downstairs, upstairs off limits, but you were one of the renters and you had to pee. Badly.

The elaborate hallways were a bit confusing, but eventually you found a bathroom. You hurried as best as you could, not wanting to keep Charles waiting. You took longer than you intended to when washing your hands, distracted by your ring. It gleamed at you in the light, and you found yourself absentmindedly smiling at it, still in disbelief that you were getting married.

A yelp of fright escaped you when you finally opened the door, almost running into a chest. For a brief second, you thought that it was Charles, thinking that maybe he’d come after you, but the dark hair and blue eyes did not belong to him.

“What the hell, Hugh? You almost gave me a heart attack,” you complained, hand pressed to your chest.

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he hummed.

You blinked, fully realizing that he was upstairs when he shouldn’t be.

“What are you doing up here?”

He didn’t answer you, instead stepping forward, causing you to stumble back as he entered the bathroom. Before you could say anything else, he slammed the door closed behind him, and your heart jumped in your chest. Alcohol may have been coursing through your system, jumbling your mind a bit, but you were coherent enough to understand that something wasn’t right. You looked him over, somewhat concerned, and noticed that his tie was missing.

“Hugh-.”

“You know, all this time, I just thought you were the typical jealous bitch,” he casually started, making your eyes widen as he glanced around with a sigh.

“Excuse me?”

“You looked at me like something you find on the bottom of your shoe the very moment you met me,” he quietly spat, eyes meeting yours. “What a shame I thought it was that you were another one of those ‘eat the rich’ types. I thought we could have had some fun together, but you wouldn’t look twice at me. Hell, you hardly looked once.”

“Are you drunk, right now? Is that what this is?”

He stepped closer, and you stepped closer to the sink, trying to get around him.

“You always have a grand time with Fran and Marta, giggling with them and any other staff member we temporarily hire, but you clam up the minute any of us comes near you. I always hated how obvious you were about it, how unashamed you were to broadcast your disgust with our lifestyle-.”

“I think you’re drunk,” you finally decided.

“Little did I know that it wasn’t the money that disgusted you. Otherwise, why on earth would you be getting married to Charles Blackwood, of all people?”

He said your fiancé’s name as if it were the vilest thing in the world, and you frowned at him. His expression was unreadable, and your frown deepened.

“Are you telling me you’re shocked that my hatred of your family has nothing to do with your wealth but instead, oh…I don’t know, your personalities?”

“As if Charles is just a beacon of generosity,” Ransom sneered.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him.

“Are you upset with me because I don’t like you? Is that it? I refuse to believe that because, believe it or not Hugh, a lot of people don’t like you,” you mockingly told him.

He leaned one hand on the sink, officially trapping you as he looked down his nose at you.

“That usually stems from some level of envy, but not you it seems. Why would you be envious? You’ve been dating Charles…Blackwood…”

He chuckled, but it lacked humor. His other hand gripped your left, and he sneered at your ring.

“It was easier to write your rejection off when I thought it was shallow and unfounded, you know. That isn’t the case though, is it? Hell, soon you’ll be richer than me,” he murmured.

“Are you jealous?” you chuckled. “Charles doesn’t exactly seem your type…”

“Didn’t think he was yours either,” he threw back.

You scoffed.

“I don’t care about the money. That’s not why I’m with him. If I wanted to bag any rich guy for tuition, I would’ve slept with your father a long time ago,” you told him.

His jaw ticked, and he backed you into the wall. Ransom was definitely drunk, that much was obvious, and you found yourself growing nervous the longer he stared at you.

“What does Charles Blackwood have that I don’t?” he slowly questioned.

The question confused you, throwing you off, and you huffed, looking away from him. He was so close, body heat mingling with yours, and you cringed when he rested his hands on the wall. Fed up with his games, you pushed against him.

“My fiancé is waiting for me,” you hissed.

He pushed back, pressing his chest against yours as he pinned you to the wall.

“You wouldn’t look twice at me, but you’ll marry Charles Blackwood?”

“He has class!”

He glared at you.

“…for one thing,” you continued. “…and unfortunately for you, that is something money can’t buy. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

He gripped your wrists when you tried to leave, and you winced.

“Let go of me, Hugh! Charles will start to look for me,” you warned him.

His lips curved upwards into a smirk.

“Then I guess I better be quick…”

You opened your mouth, but he swallowed whatever you were going to say with a kiss. You fought against him, but he wrapped his arms around you, pinning you against him as he moved his mouth against yours. You gasped for breath when he pulled away only to sharply inhale when he shoved his tie in your mouth.

Your screams were muffled as he spun you around, hand pressing into your back as he pushed you against the counter. The sound of his belt buckle caused your struggle to increase, and your fears were confirmed when you looked in the mirror. Tears skipped down your face when he pulled up your dress, and you reached back, but he simply grabbed your hand and pinned it to your back.

He was pressed so firmly against you that you could hardly move your legs. His chest was firm as it grazed your back, and your heart dropped to your stomach when you felt him reaching in between you, the head of his cock grazing you moments later.

You tried to call his name around the fabric in your mouth, to try and talk sense into him, but it was no use. His lips grazed your ear as he leaned over you.

“You think I’m not good enough for you?”

You pushed back against him, and he chuckled.

“You think you’re better than me? You think your fiancé is better than me?”

He thrust into you, and a choked yelp escaped around the tie. One hand clasped around the back of your neck, pressing your forehead against the mirror as he forced himself into you again and again.

“I can have any woman I want- I do have any woman I want. I’m not going to let you walk around thinking you’re the exception,” he purred, rutting into you.

Your core burned at the forced entry, his hardened member dragging against your walls. You stomped your foot, sobs escaping you now as he had his way with you. You squeezed your eyes shut when he would groan, his labored breathing coinciding with the rhythm of his hips connecting with your butt.

“You walk around that house like you’re better than us. Looking down on us like you’re too good. You’re not. No one’s too good for me,” he moaned. “Not even the future Mrs. Blackwood.”

Somewhere upstairs, you could hear your name being called. You knew it was Charles, and there was no telling how long it’d take for him to find you. You yourself had almost gotten lost looking for a bathroom. Ransom’s thrusts grew erratic, his harsh breaths in your ear.

“That sounds like your lovely fiancé… I wonder what he’d do if he walked in here? You think he’d still marry you? Hmm?”

His hand slid around to the front of your throat, cutting off your breathing.

“He’d probably throw you out of that big ole house…you’d have to come and work for us again…”

He pulled you away from the sink and pushed you up against the door. His hand that was on your back moved up to turn the light off, sliding into you with ease now. You reached up to claw at the hand around your throat, vision blurring. You moved to bang against the door, but his arm snaked around you, pinning yours to your side.

Your head lolled back to land on his shoulder, and he let out a low moan in your ear. You shook as he came inside of you, his thrusts slowing down, lazily sliding his cock in and out of you now. You heard Charles getting farther away, his voice distant now. Ransom gripped your chin, finally allowing you to breathe and forced your head towards him, tears in your eyes.

His blue eyes were cold, nostrils flaring as he glared at you.

“No one is too good for me,” he quietly told you. “Remember that when you walk down the aisle.”

~

tags: @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @notyourtypicalrose @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan​ @coconutqueen21​

[empyreanwritings]

Caught in a Rainstorm

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: mild angst, some language, and a minor threat about kicking shins and breaking a nose, ya know, the good stuff

Summary: Bucky remembers everything about your relationship - the good, the bad, and the ugly. He doesn’t regret a single thing except for giving up on your relationship when he knew you hadn’t. 

A/N: big shoutout to @missmonsters2​ for beta reading this for me! it took me awhile, but i finally managed to write a full one shot! this is written for @hopingforbarnes​ 250 milestone - congrats again on reaching that milestone bby, that is huge! sorry this is late, but i sure hope it is worth it. my prompt will be bolded in the story <3 x

Bucky always loved rainstorms. On his hardest days, he'd step out in the rain and let the cold droplets pelt against his bare skin. He liked the way it stung because it reminded him that he was alive. People thought he was crazy for not running away at the first sight of lightning, or the boom of thunder, and maybe he was a little bit. But he didn't really care what anyone thought about him anyways. Who were they to judge? Everyone had something they loved, even if it was a little weird.

He remembered the first time he met you - you were drenched and shivering, cursing at your broken-down car as if your words would make it come back to life. He couldn't help you fix the engine, but he offered you a warm car and a ride to the nearest gas station.

At first, you had been wary. You even made a joke about the man that hitch-hiked with Jeffrey Dahmer, but the more you joked, the more at peace you seemed to be. It seemed if you were going to be killed by a stranger, at least you thought he was pretty. Which mortified Bucky the moment you said it but then all he could think about was how you called him pretty.

You were surprised when he offered to stay with you until the tow truck came. You had no issue waiting at the gas station, but Bucky hated the way the cashier was eyeing you and didn't intend on letting you stick around to find out what was going through that man's head. He wasn't really sure why he cared so much about a stranger. Maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about how much you loved the rain too. Maybe it was your laugh. He wasn't sure, but he had to soak up as much time as he could with you.

Part of him didn't expect to see you after that day. He thought you would end up a distant memory - a ghost of what could have been.

When he ran into you the second time - quite literally by crashing his cart into yours - he forgot how to breathe. You were even more beautiful when you weren't soaked from the rain, which said something because he still thought you were beautiful even then.

It took you a moment to realize who you were staring at. The second you recognized him, a smile stretched across your face and you couldn't help but run into his arms to give him a hug.

He remembered the way you called him, "My hero!" Full of light and happiness. Like seeing him again somehow saved the rest of your day.

Bucky refused to let you slip through his fingers that time around. He had a feeling the universe was giving him a second chance by letting him run into you, and he couldn't risk disappointing whatever gods were watching him from above. The last thing he wanted was to be struck by lightning because he didn't ask you out on a date when he had the chance.

From the few hours he spent with you in the car, he knew you weren't a fancy dinner type of person. You were the type to enjoy long talks and getting to know someone; you liked to ask the personal questions that would make most people too scared to even think about asking on the first date. But you never shied away from uncomfortable questions. You always encouraged Bucky to ask you some as well, and it took him some time, but he finally learned that you enjoyed being asked the questions that made you think.

Going to a coffee shop hadn't been his first idea. He thought a nice walk around the lake was something you would appreciate, but the rain ruined his plans. He remembered how easy it was for you to adjust to the new date idea.

It was a blessing in disguise, though.

He learned so much about you just from watching the way you ordered your coffee. You liked it sweet because you weren't a huge fan of strong coffee taste. Lots of almond milk (because you were lactose intolerant and not ready for the date to be put on pause thanks to dairy). You preferred iced over hot. He realized you liked to talk so much that your hot coffee would have turned cold anyways, so you beat it by putting ice in it already. And you didn't use straws because you cared too much about sea turtles. You didn't even let them put a lid on the cup because you were going to drink it right away anyways.

Every detail he put together like a puzzle. Some pieces seemed to make more sense than others, but you were so perfect in his eyes that it didn't matter if some of the edges were jagged.

The worst decision he ever made was letting you go. Because through all of the good memories - your first date, the sound of your laughter when you tried to hold it back, and the way you'd whisper his name first thing in the morning - he couldn't get the look of disappointment in your face when he stopped fighting for you. When he stopped caring about the relationship because he didn't feel worthy of you.

The way your eyes lost a little bit of their brightness would be burned into his brain until he died, and he hated it.

Bucky was always a fan of rainstorms until he realized that he wasn't able to hold you when the thunder made you jump out of your skin. He'd hear the crack of lightning and wonder if you were hiding under the covers, silently praying for the storm to pass over quickly. He'd wonder if you were already with someone else and let them comfort you.

The cool of the rain used to refresh him until he had to stand outside your home in it, waiting for you to gather up enough courage to open the door. He thought the nerves were enough to keep him warm, but they just made him shiver more.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do with himself if you didn't answer the door.

But he never had to find out because eventually he heard the chain slide and knew you were waiting for him on the other side.

You seemed exhausted. There was no life in your eyes - no excitement in your features when you saw him. He tried to smile, but it faltered the second he met your glare. You clearly weren't in the mood for whatever he was about to say, but he appreciated that you were giving him a chance. Another reason why he thought you were too good for him.

You wrapped the cardigan around your body tighter and sighed. You made no effort to step aside and let him in the house. If he wanted to speak with you then he had to do it in the rain.

"What are you doing here, James?"

"I'm sorry."

"You broke my heart and all you can say is I'm sorry?" You scoffed. "Go the fuck home before I break your nose."

You moved to close the door, but he quickly stuck his boot out before you could. A curse sat on the tip of your tongue, and he knew you wanted to throttle him for showing up at all. He just needed a few minutes of your time and that was it. A few minutes to get everything off his chest, and if you still chose to shut the door, then he'd let you.

"I'm sorry is the only thing I really can say," he murmured. "I'm sorry that I just gave up on our relationship. The last few months of our relationship was hell, and it was my fault. I started thinking about how you were the only woman in the world I wanted to marry, and it scared the hell out of me."

"The idea of being married to me scared you? Gee, that sure is romantic."

"That's not-" He groaned and ran his hand down his face. "That's not what I'm saying! I…I grew up thinking that I was going to be the most successful man in the world. I knew that I was going to get married and have a bunch of babies. Maybe have my own company or two. Then I lost my arm. I gained a little weight. Nat divorced me. I was miserable and constantly feeling sorry for myself. And I met you - a woman who challenged me to be more than what the world expected me to be. You didn't even bat an eye the first day I touched with you my prosthetic, and you were the first person to see me as something other than broken."

Your expression softened at his words. The first time he ever told you about Nat, you wanted to track her down and kick her in the shin for breaking his heart. She never admitted it out loud, but he knew she left because she couldn't be bothered by his medical needs after the accident. It was too much for her to handle, and he couldn't blame her for that. You certainly could, though.

"The idea of marrying you wasn't what scared me. I was terrified that I wasn't going to be enough for you in the end. Terrified of disappointing you and making you feel like you were trapped in an unhappy marriage."

You straightened up, jaw clenched and eyes blazing as you stared at him. "James Barnes, have I ever given you a reason to believe that I would have been unhappy with you?"

"No," he mumbled.

"Exactly. I was happy. I wanted us to have our happy ending, and instead, I spent nights wondering why you didn't think I was good enough!" You snapped. "I don't care if you are insecure, you know I am willing to work with you on that, but you had no right to turn around and make me start feeling miserable about myself. It wasn't fair, and I'm not just going to pretend that it's all okay because you're standing in the rain looking like a sad puppy."

"I know."

"You are not a broken man, James. You are so much more than the accident or what Nat believed about you. But if that is what you truly believe about yourself, I can't fix that. You need to fix yourself first because I am not your mother."

"I know."

Bucky looked down at his shoes. Water was starting to bubble out from the sides, and he could feel his socks filling, but he wasn't going to complain. He'd deal with a lifetime of soggy socks if it meant he could spend time with you. Even most of that time was spent with you scolding him for his dumb decisions.

You held your breath for a few seconds, giving your heart a moment to stop racing. You never planned on saying all of that to his face, but it felt amazing to finally get it out. James Buchanan Barnes was the love of your life, but he shattered you. You weren't going to let him off easy with a few apologies and his damningly cute blue eyes. But you weren't going to hold a grudge forever either.

Growing up, your mother told you that relationships were work. The hardest conversations were the most important ones to have in order to make them last. Love wasn't always about feeling the butterflies in your belly every time you looked at your partner. Sometimes it was about just making it through the day, holding each other up and hoping for the best. And even on your worst days when you feel like you can't stand to look at each other, you were supposed to make sure you ended the night with an "I love you."

"Are you going to agree to go back to therapy?" You asked him gently. You weren't trying to make him feel like he was crazy, but you knew it was what he needed the most right now.

"I started going back last month. Haven't missed a day yet."

"Good, I'm glad," you hummed. You shifted back and forth on your feet for a moment before finally moving to the side. "Did you want to come in and dry off? I can make you some coffee if you like."

He nodded and offered you a soft smile. "Sure. Coffee sounds fantastic." 

[heresathreebee]

A Real Date

[Ava Starr x Female!Reader] 

Summary: You and Ava trying a dinner date that goes very wrong (just kidding it's actually fine). 

Previous Masterlist Next

Word count: 1.8k words

Warning(s): 13+ | no-snap au, post-Ant Man and the Wasp, swearing, internalized homophobia(?), I think I’m working through something here this might be a little personal (sorry in advance), past relationship angst, presumed past of dating multiple genders but there is no definitive sexuality established for reader in the present, this was going to be something else but the story took over and I had to roll with it. 

Author's note: no-snap au, post-Ant Man and the Wasp. I’m sorry I do not edit anymore, it only serves to stand in my way. This is part 3 of Ava Starr series beginning with Strawberry Soda. Art by Artmilla on DeviantArt (correct me if I’m wrong please)

It's important to note that not everything you see in media is the hegemonic truth. Take sapphic dating rituals for example: in media it’s a constant joke about how fast people move in together and own pets and plants like they were soulmates and always meant to be together. Which is nice to see– it’s not meant to be a cruel joke– but it does paint a picture of perfection. It doesn’t explicitly state whether your future wife is your first or fiftieth girlfriend but it sure as shit might lead you to believe every girl might be your last. 

Real people don’t work that way. Real people have different interests, different lives, different traumas, different styles and needs. Every relationship is new and it has to be done deliberately and with care for what you and your partner want. So when you think about your relationship with Ava you can’t help but feel a little guilty. 

Ava seems to like to take things slow. Your relationship prioritizes quality time over physical touch which you're fine with, but you can’t help it if you compare the details to other people you’ve dated. You’ve known each other for three months and in every other relationship by this time, you and your previous partners had hit a ton of milestones that you and Ava had just… not. So when you bring up the prospect of a ‘real date’ to Ava one night while cooking pasta in your kitchen, Ava chuckles. 

“And what exactly constitutes as a ‘real date?’” 

The television is playing some daytime television game show and the volume’s on low. You pass her the salt and take a swig from your beer with a shrug. Already you feel silly for bringing it up. 

“Dinner. A movie. Sometimes both, I guess,” you say, flustered. 

Ava raises an eyebrow at the softening bowtie noodles in the pot. “We’re having dinner right now…? Name one time we haven’t come back to your place to watch a movie.” 

“The time the power went out and we played jenga by candlelight. But I– I mean like a date outside of the house.”

“We go to out to parks, the antique mall, lunch, the arcade–” 

“Well, yeah I guess you’re right I just don’t know I still feel like–”  

“Again, how is any of it different from a ‘real date?’” 

“I don’t know! Just… just forget it.” you’re trying not to be bitter about it but you don’t even know what you mean so how could you explain it? 

Ava calls your name softly and you already feel hot shame lick up your neck when you see her face. “I didn’t mean it like that, I– I just don’t think I understand what you mean and I want to! Honestly…” 

You sigh and lean closer to her, careful not to touch but you want her to know you’re not mad. “No, I’m sorry. I just… I’ve been stuck on it for a week but I can’t seem to figure out why. Everything you’re saying I agree with but there’s still this nagging voice in my head telling me it’s not fair or I’m doing it wrong but I don’t know what it even is and I–” 

You collapse onto the kitchen floor breathless. What the fuck were you even saying? Why was this bothering you so much? What ‘s different about this relationship than any other relationship you’ve already had? Your eyes are darting back and forth and your head is a million miles away. You keep talking as if saying it out loud will make your impulsive and intrusive thoughts and motivations clearer to you. 

“It’s out of order. No, it’s not but it’s… with Jordan and Becky and Hal, I went on three dates before it felt normal. We did the traditional getting to know you stuff. Damien and Palavi were straight physical– not traditional at all but that still felt good enough somehow. And– and it’s not that I don’t believe what we have isn’t real, I just–

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels a little like my relationship with Kat.” You can’t believe it but then the words were out there. You had never told anybody about Kat– Ava was still learning about the rest of them– but the instant those words left your mouth you regretted them. Ava was not Kat. 

For instance, Ava slipped down to sit beside you on the floor– Kat would never lower herself to meet your eye. Ava looked at you and she saw you– Kat chose to ignore your feelings whenever it became more convenient to do so. Kat made you feel special and yet not special enough– OK maybe they shared a little bit of that. A tiny, micro piece of that. 

“What was Kat like?” She said the words softly and without an ounce of jealousy. 

You gather your mind with a deep breath. “Dating Kat was like being strapped to a rocket. It was like being a part of something bigger and stronger than me. Being with her made me feel inconsequential and sometimes I liked that, but then… then I realized I was just a dirty little secret. Kat liked me because I was convenient to her, not because she actually cared about me. 

“When we talked or hung out, it had to be on her terms. No public, no friends or family, no social media. No one was allowed to know. She passed it off as just wanting me for herself but after she dumped me for something better I realized she never saw me as her equal. And it just… I was already in a dark place and that place just kind of got a whole lot darker after that. I felt especially not special.” 

You lean back and rest your head on the cabinet under the sink. “I know that’s not you. Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I have to hide a part of myself. I did a lot of stupid things in the public eye with Palavi, maybe part of that was because I was proud of who I am and I wanted everyone to know it?” 

“I think I care too much about what other people think of me,” you said closing your eyes. 

You didn’t expect to feel Ava lean her head against your shoulder but you don’t pull away. God, you could never pull away even as you worry she may be causing herself harm just to comfort you and your rambling. Her hair tickles a bit and smells like strawberries and lavender. 

Ava lifted her head after a moment. “Let’s go on a real date then.” 

~

Why the fuck were you so nervous? This was your idea! You had trouble picking a restaurant and picking a day and picking your clothes out and picking where to sit. So many choices with so much meaning or none at all. You just need this to be perfect because you hoped maybe this is what you need to stop that nagging in your head. 

You made the call to meet each other there. You made the suggestion that it had to be somewhere nice– as in get dressed up nice. And darling, sweet, patient Ava let you have the control you so desperately needed. She offered suggestions here and there, and it helped you narrow everything down to a science. You feel a little self conscious sitting by yourself in your get up but you knew she'd be there on time. 

It's just a matter of whether or not you could sit still for five more minutes. 

You hold the cloth napkin in your palms to try and soak up the sweat. Forcing yourself to sit unnaturally still and you haven't touched your wine because you just know you'll get it everywhere somehow. Your eyes trace over the table to stop yourself from meeting the eyes of other patrons. Do nothing, wait it out. 

Ava is stunning and you don't know she's there until the wait staff places the dinner menus in front of you. So much for pulling out her chair like you wanted to– but she's here and you break out into a big smile. 

"You look amazing," you tell her. 

Ava smiles and takes a sip of the rosé you ordered. The dim lighting in the room seems to soften the contours of her face but never the sharpness of her bright eyes. Something blossoms inside you and you feel it– that thing that's been bothering you like a knot in your stomach turns into a seed and its flowering now. This is your girlfriend. Not your friend who is a girl– your significant other. She's important to you and she has decided that she feels the same way about you. 

You feel your body unwind, reaching across the table like you might touch her hand then stop an inch from her empty plate. She watches you curiously but without fear. After a beat, it's Ava who finishes the contact. She slips her hand into yours and you are delighted to discover she's not a corporeal being you've convinced yourself is real. Her skin is a little dry around the palm and she has calluses you never knew were there and she's real and this is happening. 

You resist the urge to squeeze her fingers. Let her lead. Trust her to move away if she experiences any pain. She looks away from you with a flustered face you've never seen her wear and takes another draft of her wine. 

"This is nice," she says softly. 

You eat off each others' plates and you laugh together, and if anyone's watching you wouldn't know because for once you couldn't give a rat's ass what anyone thinks. You're with your person, for now or forever doesn't matter because she's letting you hold her hand and talk about a play you want to take her to on Saturday. Your heart flutters in your chest the whole way home and it’s not until you’re standing at your front door does her hand finally slip from yours. The feeling lingers though and your face hurts from smiling. 

“This everything you wanted,” she asked. 

“Yes,” you reply, “yes it was. Thank you for indulging me, it’s exactly what I needed.” 

“I enjoyed it too.” She steps closer, seemingly reluctant to leave just yet. “We’re still going to see Rocky Horror Picture Show, right?” 

“Absolutely,” you beam, “trust me, you’re gonna love it, it’s wild.” You blow her a kiss to send her on her way and spend the next hour giggling to yourself until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

[watch-grok-brainrot]

For the minific ask meme: Jiang Yanli and U. coming home.

So… I LOVE this prompt. Thank you !!! What i wanted to do with this took a few brain jumps. First, i wanted a story about soup and about Yanli feeling like her role is to use soup to stabilize everything and heal. Then, i thought about writing a dark Yanli that haunts JC -- but that’s so OOC I decided not to go there. Finally I settled on this. It has been in my head for over a month, trying to figure out how I want to write this. Thank you for your patience!

Earth Offical’s Pardoning

Rated G

Word Count: 1213 (+/- 5 because I never let things be)

Content: cql compliant not other adaptations/novel compliant, canonical characters being dead, family feels, sad JC, baby!jin ling, mention of food because when do i not mention food?, holidays, visiting people, watching her child growing up, childhood development milestones

----

Zhongyuan Festival. Earth Offical’s Pardoning. The fifteenth day of the seventh month. On this day, the doors of the underworld opened and Jiang Yanli found herself walking hand-in-hand with her husband towards the world of the living. 

They traveled first to Carp Tower. Zixuan wanted to unite with their son and his family before seeing A-Cheng. Their gossamer forms breezed over the tower stairs and into the main complex. The small lotus pond Zixuan had built for her was abandoned -- brown lotus stems and dried lily pads stuck out of drier ground. 

Zixuan squeezed her hand and they headed towards his family’s Ancestral Hall. Jin Guangyao was in the midst of orchestrating a grand ceremony to honor the ancestral spirits. Jin Ling could not be found. Zixuan stepped before his still grieving mother, knelt, kowtowed thrice with tears in his eyes. He then stood up and tried to comfort her with intangible hands; they trailed over her shoulders and cupped around her face. Jiang Yanli bit her lip and looked away. 

After half a shichen of listening to insufferable ceremonies, Jiang Yanli grew impatient. Zixuan noticed her anxious hands and returned by her side. Jiang Yanli took her husband’s hand, “Let’s go see A-Cheng and Ling’er.” 

Together they folded the fabric of existence and stepped over to Lotus Pier. Crossing the threshold, they flew over the familiar lotus motif of the training grounds, straightened and then landed before the sword practice hall. Walking down the wooden corridors, Jiang Yanli traced her fingers through the hated cracks and scorch marks left from the Sunshot Campaign. A-Cheng kept them intentionally, persevering their appearance. They served to motivate the new disciples, to guide people in righteousness, and to remind everyone what the sect had once lost.

She glided along the familiar winding paths, missing the way wood once felt beneath her feet. She loved the twists and turns, like life, like rivers, like fate. There was something comforting to the seemingly inefficient corridors of her childhood home. Zixuan trailed behind, commenting occasionally on the beauty of said home. 

A few lotus species remained in bloom in the late summer. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan stopped to admire the multi-layered ombre hues; their bodies hovering over the flowers, their hands failing to make the flowers waver at their touch. 

When they finally stepped into the Jiang Sect Ancestral Hall, Jiang Yanli realized Lotus Pier had been strangely devoid of people this entire time. Had A-Cheng sent everyone else away?

A pot of Lotus root and pork rib soup, plates of sweet and fragrant pastries, fresh fruit, and fresh lotus pods were set out as offerings for Jiang Yanli, for her parents, and for the other ancestors. A-Cheng sat at the edge of the lotus altar, as she often did after their parents’ death. Ling’er squirmed in A-Cheng’s left arm as his left hand held a wooden tablet. His right hand was pointing at the text on the tablet -- the tablet with her name. 

“A-Ling, this is my Jiejie, your mother. She was the most amazing person. I hope you grow up to be strong, kind, and intelligent, just like her,” A-Cheng said as he bounced Ling’er on one knee, his voice cracking as he spoke. 

Zixuan let go of her hand and she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around her little brother and her child. Shortly after, Zixuan sat down next to her and held his hand out to caress their toddler son. They had missed so many months of his infancy. 

“Ling-er is so big now. He has gotten half again as big as he was when I last saw him,” Zixuan said.

Jiang Yanli hovered her hand over her child’s head, “He babbles now. I wonder who he talks to. Is the wetnurse good for him? Does he have friends? Is he lonely? Is there someone to respond to his babbling?” Her vision blurred as she blinked back tears. 

The two of them sat by A-Cheng and Ling’er, watching A-Cheng play with the boy and teach the boy. Who would bet someone with as deadly a title as Sandu Shengshou would be so gentle with a child? 

Ling’er became fussy and A-Cheng set him down. The baby pulled himself up by A-Cheng’s robes and reached up to ask for A-Cheng’s hand. 

“You can do this yourself,” A-Cheng responded gently and shooed Ling’er away from him. 

Ling’er’s bottom lip quivered. 

“I know you can walk if you try. Look, I’ll catch you if you fall, ok? But at least try. Maybe your parents are here. It would be nice if they were around to see you take your first steps.”

A-Cheng picked up Ling’er, stood up, and set Ling’er next to the altar for stability. Then he took 3 large steps back, squatted down, and motioned for the baby. 

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan watched, captivated by the two of them. Would they really be so lucky to witness their child’s first steps today?

Ling’er reached for his uncle. He took a few steps balanced against the altar and then pushed off. A step, two steps, and then teetered forward. Zidian flew out and caught the child. “A-Ling, good job! If only your mother were here, she would be so proud of your first steps!”

Jin Zixuan yelled, “Zidian! A vicious spiritual weapon was just used on our baby! What is your brother thinking? That’s dangerous!”

Jiang Yanli smiled, “A-niang taught us how to walk like this. Zixian knows bloodlines and the owner’s intent. It can be as steady as a banister while feeling more gentle than a dandelion puff.”

They spent the rest of their day with A-Cheng. They watched Ling’er be fed, be held, be coddled. They watched A-Cheng patiently teaching, softly holding, and playfully carrying the boy. Ling’er clung to A-Cheng and A-Cheng to Ling’er. Afterall, they were the closest blood relatives each other had. 

Time flew and night fell. A-Cheng took Ling’er to the market on the docks. Jiang Yanli knew the day was ending; her time here was ending. A-Cheng purchased a violet and gold lotus with nine intricate petals and a candle shaped like a lotus pod. He set Ling’er down and handed the lantern to the boy. 

“Hold.”

Ling’er took the lantern by a corner, waved it, and dropped it to play with the lotus pod candle that fell out. Jiang Yanli felt Zixuan’s arm around her waist squeeze her close. If they were still part of the living, watching her brother and her child bond like this would be bliss. 

A-Cheng picked up the lantern, took Ling’er’s hands and set the candle inside. He then lit the wick with his spiritual energy. The light from the flame flickered, casting violet and gold shadows over the uncle and nephew duo who belonged to the sects of violet and gold.

A-Cheng swooped Ling’er into an arm and gently set the lantern in the water with his free hand. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan felt themselves drawn towards the lotus lantern. They held each other close and watched A-Cheng walk away with Ling’er towards Lotus Pier. They stood in place but the pull of the lantern carried them away. Lotus Pier slowly faded as they returned to the Earth Offical’s realm. 

Notes: 

So… there are 3 [something]-yuan festivals. Shang means upper. Zhong means middle. Xia means bottom. They all have an associated saying: for Shangyuan Festival, Heaven Offical’s Blessing (yes, like the title of the novel); for Zhongyuan Festival, Earth Offical’s Pardoning; for Xiayuan Festival, Water Offical’s Salvation. (uh… I chose salvation here because the chinese means relieving/saving from distress/suffering).

I don’t like the sound of A-Ling, so i went with Ling’er. I think JC would try to keep his sister’s naming convention and stick with A-Ling… but I also think Yanli might call Jin Ling Ling’er, especially since er can mean child. E.g. Ying’er LITERALLY means infant so uh… WWX probably didn’t get that name for a reason. XD Though i can see gremlin CSSR calling him that… 

Yes, Jin Ling is too young to walk. Maybe JC feeds him spiritual energy when he plays with the baby and so Jing Ling developed a bit faster? IDK. I wanted the story to be set on the Zhongyuan Festival so I fudged childhood development a little. I can also see Jiang Cheng intentionally trying to make Jin Ling do things younger so he can be “better than” or “beat” WWX at things… :/

I think this is only a little sad? Or it starts off sad and ends on an ok note? I’m curious to see what people think

[illshowyourhurricanes]

Castles Made of Sand

All credit goes to Jimi Hendrix for this borrowed title. After way too much time (thanks to our good friend Writer’s Block and hating the first route I took with this which lead to a complete rewrite), I am finally getting back to finishing up my last two remaining requests for my milestone event. This one was requested by @something-tofightfor, who chose image 5 for Benjamin Greene x reader. In lieu of going to the actual beach, stay inside, social distance, and imagine yourself there with this sugarplum instead. I hope you enjoy!

Image prompt 5: Benjamin Greene x reader

Rating: R solely because B. Greene is one sexy mofo. If you haven’t watched Gold Digger, there are spoilers you’ll come across in this one.

Word count: 2889.

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @maydayfigment @vetseras @thisisparadisemylove @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @my-rosegold-soul @delos-destinations @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @tenhargreeves @witchygagirl @fific7 @pheedraws

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask or shoot me a DM.

Special thanks to @the-blind-assassin-12 for beta reading!

Once again, enjoy and thank you for reading!

Benjamin’s mouth had embarked on a journey. He’d made his way down the straight line of the back of your neck, and now was tirelessly pressing light kisses down the column of your spine. The heat of his breath was a sharp contrast to the air conditioning in the room, and he was sending literal shivers up your spine. Your eyes had fallen shut when he’d started on your neck, his long fingers threading through your hair. 

“You taste like saltwater and sunshine,” he stopped just long enough to murmur into your ear. He’d changed direction, rerouting and taking a detour up toward your other shoulder. Gathering your hair to sweep it out of his way, he ran a palm over your skin, brushing off several grains of sand that had been stuck there, reticent to let go. I understand completely, he thought to himself, a shadow of a smile curving his lips as they landed on you once again: one soft feather of a kiss followed by his mouth closing over a spot at the base of your neck, gently swiping his tongue over a patch of skin, tasting saltwater again before sucking gently, his intention to leave a mark clear.

You hummed softly, appreciatively, and grinned lazily as you opened your eyes. Benjamin hadn’t been excited about your idea for a weekend at the beach; he’d actually been a bit tight-lipped any time you’d mentioned it, which was strange-- you found that Benjamin was usually forthcoming about most things, with just a short list of exceptions: his childhood, his brother Kieran, and his ex-wife Julia. 

“I never knew you had hard feelings toward the beach,” you’d joked with him good-naturedly. You’d purposely avoided the topic for three entire days, and Benjamin had finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that maybe you’d given up your idea of a weekend away. I’d love a weekend holiday, just one that doesn’t include sand, he’d thought to himself, every time you’d made the suggestion. But Benjamin knew it had not so much to do with sand at all. It had everything to do with Kent. 

He did everything he could to avoid returning to the area. He’d done everything possible to leave his childhood and years in Kent behind, to start a new life, and he’d succeeded in doing so. But when Benjamin thought about the place, his heart dropped and his pulse raced at the same time. He felt like the former version of himself, the name Sean White haunting him, circling over his head like a vulture. It was always there. Benjamin was, down to his bare bones, a taller version of the boy with the name he could never escape— the boy who had spent time behind bars, who had nothing, who spent the most desolate and miserable years of a life he’d love to forget—in Kent. 

                                         ***          ***         ***

“We used to spend half of the summer on the beach,” you had continued, your voice light with excitement, words spilling from your mouth quicker than usual. “We’d deviate here and there, but we spent most of our beach days in Broadstairs. Joss Bay. Just as beautiful as Botany, but without so many tourists.”

Benjamin had just watched and listened, expressionless. He wasn’t the type to keep at reading, his usual task at hand, while someone was speaking, whatever the topic… even if it was highly irritating. 

But you, well, you just laughed, getting to your knees and knee-stepping the rest of the way to where he was sitting, a high-backed and slightly-distressed armchair. The end table and lamp were perfectly-suited for his academic pursuits and cerebral hobbies. 

Benjamin’s eyes followed your movement, unable to help a small, wary shadow of a smile appear, vanishing as suddenly as it had come on. You were there then, your forearms resting atop his knees and looking up at him with wide doe-eyes, unconscious of just how beautiful you always looked from his view. 

You had only met three months ago in an otherwise empty corridor at university, but things had gone swimmingly between the pair of you. Benjamin was well aware, and quite often, that he was falling for you, hard and fast and much too much all at once.  He knew that if he wanted your relationship to progress much father— I do, I want her, I want to need her out of love, not from dependency—he’d have to tell you everything; the absolute truth. I want this, with her: the antithesis of what I thought I had with Julia. 

That thought, each time it invaded his mind, caused his heart to pound irregularly, his surroundings to tilt before his eyes. Perhaps he needed you already.

He heard the music of your laughter, the quick glossy look in his eyes vanishing within a split-second. Her smile could illuminate entire cities. 

“I know,” you continued with a slight wrinkle of your little nose, “That it’s quite popular, and the waves are rather choppy, but the sand is still white and the view…” you trailed off, shaking your head slowly as a warmth of nostalgia flooded your senses. 

You were still enamoured by the beach, as you always had been— the horseshoe shape of the coast, the white chalk cliffs, the carefree atmosphere and the smell of the saltwater. Your times there at Botany Bay in Broadstairs were some of your favorites, hands sticky with ice pops melting too quickly, briefly staining the sand. 

“What do you say, B? I’ll find a nice place to say, we’ll spend a long weekend in Kent. It’s lovely there, you—“

Benjamin spoke your name softly, but there was a strange firmness to his tone. Never one to interrupt, you were a bit caught off-guard. As he removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, you lowered yourself down to your haunches, allowing your arms to fall from his knees to your sides. You’d seen Benjamin tired. You’d seen him dejected, frustrated over a paper or two that he’d gotten stuck writing, but this… this was something different. And perhaps you were being a bit sensitive, but your feelings were a bit hurt. 

To top things off, you didn’t know how to react to an emotion you’d never seen before from the man you’d been seeing for just three months. Operating on instinct, you just nodded— though you were thoroughly confused— and stood, offering him a soft apology as you went to your small kitchen to put the kettle on. 

Just as you placed the kettle on the stove to heat, Benjamin appeared in the doorway. You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough to pass. “Chamomile or lemon balm?” you asked. He took a few long strides and pulled out a chair, sitting at the table, and bit at his bottom lip. 

“Chamomile… There’s.. I’ve…” Benjamin scrubbed his hands over his face in irritation. His nerves were getting to him. Anxiety was thieving his words. “I can’t go to Kent, Y/N.”

You turned to lean against the countertop. Crossing your arms over your chest as you furrowed your brow, it was obvious you were concerned. Benjamin had grown up in Newenden, a small port village immediately north of the River Rother, as an only child. You searched his face and saw tension in the set of his jaw. The rise and fall of his chest seemed almost labored, and when he looked at you, you were startled by the look of pain in his eyes. 

“My childhood.. it wasn’t like yours.” His voice sounded thick. “My mum was not an attentive mother. All of her care was concentrated on landing her next fix, and Kieran and I—“ He stopped short and shook his head, staring down at the table, tracing a knot in the wood with his index finger. “My… brother.” He struggled with the word, his jaw flexing. 

Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to speak, but all that spilled forth was silence. He’s lied to me. You felt your chest seize and it was like his words stole your breath from your lungs. Your heart thrummed erratically. He’s been lying to me.

“Older brother.” Benjamin continued, and his voice became unsteady as he went on. “Kieran had no father figure and mine was… fucking useless.” Upper lip curved in contempt, his nostrils flared in anger as the kettle began its shrill whistling. Quickly, though you felt as if you were in a haze, you darted to the side to quiet the sound, wondering how long you could keep your hands busy preparing two cups of tea. 

“When my mum died, Kieran did everything in his power to make everything normal, to watch over the two of us. We had no money and no place to go.  Just 50 quid, mate, to get us through the month. He already had a plan on how to get the money… ‘Just stand and keep watch, alright? Just keep watch.’” 

Benjamin was unaware, but he was sneering-- his jaw clenched, brows knotted, his mouth set in straight line. But the part that was most jarring was the wildness in his eyes. Benjamin, what have you done? Your hands shook as you brought tea to the table, and you wondered for a moment when you’d managed to steep the tea bags. You had no recollection. Benjamin’s words were ricocheting in your head. You felt angry for being lied to, betrayed. You felt a dull ache in your chest for Benjamin and all that he’d been through. You felt a heavy guilt for unknowingly being so inconsiderate in badgering him about a beach trip. You felt like the foundation of your relationship had been cracked irreparably, like the fault lines in dry earth from an earthquake.  Setting one steaming cup of tea in front of Benjamin, you sank into a hard kitchen chair across from him.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “So I stood there, and I stood there… and I heard something and then… there was all this blood…” 

Benjamin’s voice was shaking and as you looked up at him, you saw that his face was wet with tears, droplets falling from his cheeks and onto the table. He swallowed hard. “I took the blame, Y/N. I took the blame and I paid for it and he… he let me.”

“Oh, Benjamin.” You rose from the seat you’d just taken and walked to stand in front of him. You could see the agony in his eyes; there was no way anyone could fake that. “Benjamin, I’m sorry.” Tentatively you sat on his knee, and he shook his head.

“I should’ve told you, I planned to. When’s the right time to--”

You interrupted him by wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your cheek atop the crown of his head. Your anger melted away and the only thing you wanted to do was take it away. It was impossible, you knew, so you’d have to settle for offering comfort. For being there. 

“There isn’t,” you said, frowning into his hair. You softly ran your nails over the back of his neck and the two of you sat in silence for a moment. Closing your eyes, you turned to press your lips to his head before pulling away to look down at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words would come out. They were stuck someplace between your heart and your throat.

“As soon as I could,” he continued, blinking tears away, “I left. I got out of Kent, and I made a new life for myself, changed my name, got a job, and an ex-wife.” Benjamin attempted to smile, but the corners of his mouth just twitched instead, and no light reached his eyes. “Shawn White follows me every step of every day and I can’t go back. I can’t.”

“I don’t know a Shawn White.” Just saying the name felt strange on your tongue, and you vowed to never speak it again. “I know Benjamin Greene. I know that he helps strange women carry loads of sketchbooks to her office.” You smiled softly, the memory of how you’d met a vivid memory in your mind. “I know that he’s a diligent student, and smart, and is a great copywriter.” Pausing, you kissed his forehead. “I know his favorite foods, the type of music he likes, that he’s funny and attentive.” Finally, you caught his eyes, a touch of sadness and sour regret still there. “I know that I care about him immensely.”

Benjamin had taken to lightly running both hands up and down your back, one on either side of your spine. He couldn’t believe your reaction, or lack thereof. There was no accusation. There was no venom in your tone, no indication that you didn’t believe him. He had confessed to you that his life was a lie, and there you were, beautiful on his lap, reassuring him of all that he was. And when you kissed him then, there was no bitter aftertaste of pity. And when Benjamin smiled afterward, it was genuine, and it reached his eyes. She’s unbelievable.

                                              ***          ***         ***

“You’re so pale. B,” you’d teased, all in good fun. “C’mere.”

You slathered Benjamin in sunscreen— SPF 45,  to be exact. He’d helped you with the hard-to-reach places of your own, his warm palms and long fingers working the lotion over your skin. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather spending our time in the air conditioning?” he joked, voice low in your ear. One last time, he rubbed one hand over either shoulder and leaned forward to kiss your temple. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps popping up In gentle pricks. 

“Are you trying to make me forget about my mission? Because it’s working.” You turnED your head, narrowing your eyes playfully at Benjamin before turning your attention to the array of sandcastles littering the beach. Most of them looked more like sculpted sand dunes or ant hills more than anything else, but there were some valiant efforts all the same. Your mission was to thwart them all. 

“Really, I desperately want to impress you with my architectural skills,” you kidded. . Reaching to your right, you swiped the tote bag you’d brought down with you and pulled out a bright red, plastic sand pail. It held two smaller sand molds inside and a small, yellow shovel hung  from the bucket’s handle. You beamed triumphantly. Benjamin threw his head back in laughter. 

“What?!” Your voice dripped with feigned indignence, but his laughter was absolutely contagious. A giggle bubbled forth from your throat before it turned into full-blown laughter. “These are fully functional multipurpose tools!” You defended the vividly colorful kids’ toys as you unloaded the smaller molds from the pail. 

“You are utterly bonkers,” Benjamin said decidedly as he slid his sunglasses downward to shield his eyes. He leaned back on his readily-spread beach towel, leaning back on his elbows with his long  legs stretched out in front of him. 

And you are a vision, Benjamin Greene. The rest of Botany Bay— the horseshoe shape of the coast in the distance, the sapphire blue water sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight, the clean, whit expanse of sand and the picaresque pillars of chalk in your periphery— they all paled in comparison. You loved Benjamin irrevocably. 

And he felt the same way, you reminded him. “You love me, especially the utterly bonkers part,” you chided, setting your building supplies to the side. Joining him on your own beach towel, you rest your chin in your hand, propped up on your side to look down at him. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to his lips, your tongue teasing his bottom lip before pulling away. 

“Remind me again what I am?” you teased. Your eyebrows were raised in question and your mouth quirked upward in a smirk. 

Benjamin groaned in response, dropping his upper body down into his towel unceremoniously. 

“Brilliant at baiting,” he answered, rolling his head toward you. He was smiling, and your heart danced in your chest. Here you were, with Benjamin Greene in Kent, and of his own accord. You’d be returning to work soon, and he’d planned an end-of-summer beach vacation, at the very one you’d mentioned all that time ago. He’d remembered. And he was happy. 

You sat up with a burst of energy. Sliding in your own sunglasses, you readjusted the messy bun you wore atop your head. It was time to get down to business. “Now, are you going to help me build our castle before the tide rolls in?” You paused and turned your head to glance at him over your shoulder. “I can offer a promise of air conditioning as an incentive.”

Suddenly invigorated, Benjamin pushed himself up to sit as well, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Move over, Y/L/N,” he said, reaching past your legs for the lemon- yellow shovel. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

[magicalgirlbethie]

Pick-a-Card Reading

Hello everyone! This is the first pick-a-card reading I’ve done here on Tumblr, so be gentle! I don't usually type out my readings, as most of them have been in person. I plan to post some sort of free reading for the collective or a pick-a-pile type reading on this blog weekly to get more practice. I’m still trying to figure out the day of the week I’ll be doing it, so bear with me and thanks for looking!

I divided the reading into three groups and asked what each group needed to be aware of at this time. The stones across the top from left to right are apatite, mookaite jasper, and smoky quartz. Take some time to focus on the three piles, take a deep breath, and chose which crystal or pile speaks to you. Remember to take away from this reading only what resonates with you and leave what doesn’t. Any feedback is always appreciated!

Pile #1- Apatite

Swan - Seven of Swords - Ten of Swords

The swan speaks to heightened creativity and a need for alone time and reflection. It’s about manifesting your inner vision and giving your soul the attention it needs. Take some time to do something that feeds your soul this week. Making time for meditation, writing, or other activities that help you harness your creativity may be the key to helping you make sound decisions.

The suit of swords rules this reading, which means you’re spending a lot of time in your own head, maybe thinking about some action you need to take. Be careful, the seven suggests you could be lying to yourself or being lied to. The way you’re going about manifesting your vision may seem like a good idea now, but will it be worth the deception later? Will things really pan out the way you hoped? Take some time to reflect and don’t be afraid to ask for help. If you’re working on a project, make sure the ideas are your own and you haven’t stolen them from someone else.

The ten suggests things may really not go the way you’re hoping, if you continue on this path. The ten of swords is literally rock bottom. You killed yourself with your own hurtful thought patterns. This particular depiction of the ten softens this a bit and shows how you can and will rise to look at the sun because the only place to go from the bottom is up.

You may be the one wielding the swords that have the potential to cut you down. Put down the swords before it’s too late. This is not a time for shortcuts. Taking the easy way out only ends with the swords you’ve gathered stuck in your own back.

Pile #2- Mookaite Jasper

Cheetah - Two of Cups - Four of Wands

This reading looks like a big YES from the universe and speaks to achievement, love, and connection. Who doesn’t like those things?

The cheetah is about achievement and reflects the fiery energy seen in the suit of wands. It suggests that you will be successful in whatever you put your energy into this week. Just make sure you’re running in the right direction and putting your efforts into something you’re passionate about. The cheetah has boundless energy and the motivation to get things done.

The two of cups is about true connection, teamwork, and cooperation. It could mean a new relationship, romantic or not, or even a new business partnership. If you’re already in a relationship, make sure the two of you are putting in the same amount of energy. In traditional depictions of the two of cups two people stand face to face, each presenting a cup to the other. This is a merging of paths of like individuals, who have something of equal value to give each other. This particular representation (shown above) is a promise being made between two people. There is balance, mutual support, and understanding.

The four of wands further suggests that making time for true, balanced connection could result in a beautifully stable foundation or milestone worth celebrating. This is a stable foundation worth building on!

Pile #3- Smoky Quartz

Bat - Nine of Wands - Four of Pentacles

This reading suggests you’re feeling guarded about something, but is this feeling necessary or helpful?

Bats are nocturnal and can see clearly in darkness what others may have difficulty seeing. The bat brings clarity and, like the Death card, it speaks to a door closing or something coming to an inevitable end.

The nine of wands shows that you have been through a lot and should applaud yourself for your resilience. It can mean the final push before achieving something you’ve been tirelessly working towards. The lesson here is to know when it’s time to stop fighting. Do not purposely choose the difficult path because you think that’s how all achievements should be won. Now might be the time to let down your guard a little.

The four of pentacles further suggests that you’ve been through hard times and know the importance of holding on to your resources and saving. You may have even been doing this so long you have no idea how far you’ve come. The woman in the card sits alone and is focused on herself and her belongings, but is unable to see what wonderful things could be right behind her. It might be time to turn your focus outwards a little and toward something new.

Pat yourself on the back for all that you’ve accomplished and been through, but be open to what new things are coming for you. Don’t be so focused on what was that you’re unable to see what new doors are opening for you. Like the bat, see what only you can see in this situation, but leave what isn’t serving you behind and be ready to walk through a new door when the sun comes up.

~~~~~~~~

Decks used: The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Deck by Kim Krans, The Light Seer’s Tarot by Chris-Anne, and The Sasuraibito Tarot by Stasia Burrington

[mokkoriness]

Motto2 vol. 20 Saga (A9) x Ryosuke (Lolita23q) Interview

Photo credit: Fantasy Alice9

Despite there not being that much interaction between them to date, in actuality, Saga and Ryosuke knew of each other since over 10 years ago. Hearing them talk, in addition to having things in common such as both being bassists and composers, it appears they have many things they agree on, and they hit it off! At this rate, it appears that in 2017, both A9, who have returned to their roots, and Lolita23q, who have resumed band activities, will do something interesting...!!

Saga: I've known of Ryosuke for quite a long time ago.

Ryosuke: I've also known about Saga for a long time. Before A9 had started, I was in the vocalist Show's session band and I've also been their roadie. I've known Saga since he was in Delta Ark...

Saga: That's such a long time ago! (laughs)

Ryosuke: From the time there was that compilation album "HYSTERIC MEDIA ZONE 5"...

Saga: That's super old!! (laughs)

Ryosuke: But today is the first time actually having a proper talk with him.

Saga: Right. We've never had a proper chat since meeting each other, but I've been hearing things about Ryosuke from Show for a long time now. Like "He's a really good kid, has really good manners and is amazing at the bass too. He's a skilled kid".

Ryosuke: No, no. That's too kind (laughs).

Saga: Oh, my bad for calling you a kid (laughs).

Ryosuke: I'm the junior here, so that's completely fine. And also because I respect my seniors who are moving ahead.

Saga: Huh? When did you guys form again?

Ryosuke: Our first live was in November 2004.

Saga: We formed in the Spring of 2004.

Ryosuke: There's less than a year's difference of our current bands, but you also had a career before that... When I played for the first time at a live house, Saga and Show were already playing at Takadanobaba AREA1.

Saga: Memories of those times are starting to come back to me (laughs).

Ryosuke: That's why when Show and Saga formed alicenine., I thought "This is going to be one amazing band". I purposely said their band name from that time.

Saga: But we're pretty much from the same era, so why didn't we meet? We've only played a show with Lolita23q once.

Ryosuke: I think that's because ever since alicenine. formed, they shot straight up.

Saga: No, no, not at all. We joined a management company right after we formed, so there was the fact that we weren't so free to move as we wanted...... But now that we've gone independent, there's none of that anymore and it's easier to get things done. It's like the same goes for today, being able to collaborate with Ryosuke.

Ryosuke: I'm really glad that I can have a chat like this with Saga.

Saga: Although we never interacted in the public sphere, in 2012, when I heard that Lolita23q would go on hiatus, I was sad, as one would expect.

Ryosuke: Really?

Saga: Yeah. But I wasn't suprised. Because I really understand the difficulty in keeping a band going. And when it comes do doing it for over 10 years... right?

Ryosuke: Uh huh.

Saga: I don't know the specifics for you, but when you are active as a band, don't a whole range of obstacles come up? So I did feel that it was sad... but I also felt that it is what it is. That's why when I heard Lolita23q would be making a comeback, I was genuinely happy.

Ryosuke: Thank you very much.

Saga: I also want you guys to show the fans in the current Visual-kei scene who haven't seen Lolita23q before what's what.

Ryosuke: I do hope they come see us.

Saga: Lolita23q had left an impression on me from the very beginning. The impact from their artist photos each time is amazing.

Ryosuke: Yeah... Our lives depend on that.

Saga: BAN adds a nice touch to the band (laughs). He does his own thing. Even in the new artist photos, he does his own thing. That's also amazing.

Ryosuke: He has consistency in how he presents himself. I think that the artist photo up on our website right now is the coolest BAN.

Saga: I also think that the artist photo now is the best, even including all the artist photos in the past. You guys are shining the most right now.

Ryosuke: Really? Thank you very much. I was very particular about the composition, even in the smallest details. After the band went on hiatus, I studied a bit on design, so I made use of all the things I mastered in the artist photos, like proportions and balanced.

Saga: You always looked at things overall and produced the presentation of the band and such, right?

Ryosuke: I wouldn't got so far as to say I produced it, but I wanted to say that ever since back then, I was the main person behind the band's creative side. But in making our comeback, I think that working from behind the scenes is okay. Because I want to contribute the know-how and ideas I have to the band even more than before we went on hiatus.

Saga: You won't say "I'm the one doing it".

Ryosuke: No, I won't. I'd be happy if my work was needed by the people we work with or the members.

Saga: It's like you take a step back to look at things.

Ryosuke: That's right. I'm a band member, but I've also got a position like a kind of director. But I don't even want to say things like that.

Saga: Oh, really?

Ryosuke: I want to avoid giving off this cocky feeling. But I'm actually really interested in things like this.

Saga: You like looking at the overall picture?

Ryosuke: Yes. Or rather, doesn't it happen with our part (= bass)?

Saga: Well, yeah. That's how it ends up being (laughs).

Ryosuke: Right!

Saga: Well, in terms of where you stand in the band, you end up looking around you (laughs).

Ryosuke: It's just as you say. That's why I think that I'm the one who chose the bass.

Saga: But even though you're a bassist, don't you also have solo activities as WING WORKS, where you don't play bass, but instead sing, and produce eveything? By doing things like that, I think that you're a unique person, even in this scene. So what are you thinking when you do your activities? I've always been really curious. Like "I wonder if he is moving while thinking about many things while looking 2 to 3 steps ahead?".

Ryosuke: That's right. When I thought to stop the band the first time, I thought that I couldn't be in a band anymore.

Saga: Like perhaps you couldn't form a band better than Lolita23q?

Ryosuke: There was that, and I'm not denying the stance that the other members took after that2, but at the time, the CEO of the label we were under at that time gave me the advice "The road of music is [One band per lifetime]", and that had always stuck with me.

Saga: Yeah.

Ryosuke: That said, I was thinking about forming a new band at first, but I immediately thought that I couldn't be able to form a band better than Lolita23q. So if that was the case, I thought to do it alone.

Saga: I see.

Ryosuke: That and I really like MIYAVI, so I was influenced by him.

Saga: Oh, really?

Ryosuke: Yes. If I recall correctly, just around the time when Lolita23q went on hiatus and I was wondering whether to do go solo or not, that's when MIYAVI and bobo started their activities in his current style. I bought a ticket and went to see them live, but when he frst started doing his current style, there weren't any people in the audience.

Saga: You bought a ticket?

Ryosuke: Actually, I've been a big fan of his since Due le quartz. Ever since MIYAVI went solo, I've always bought tickets go see his milestone lives. By myself.

Saga: By yourself? Really?!

Ryosuke: Really. Every time I go see him, I always learn something and I think "I'll work hard so I can become like him". When he went solo, didn't -miyavi- always have this vigour when it came to activities? But when he first started the two-person style, there were so few people in audience it would be unimaginable these days. But the things he is doing is clearly progressing even further than what he had done up until then. That was the biggest thing that made me want to become a solo artist.

Saga: I see... So it was his influence. -miyavi- used to be in the same management company as us, so I saw things that were happening back then, and once when he went overseas, he came back as a different person. He would start speaking English out of the blue. At that time, the people arond him had questions marks about him, like "-miyavi-, what's wrong?" and "I don't know what you're trying to do".

Ryosuke: Oh.

Saga: In that kind of mood, he pushed forward on his own path, and pushed completely through... I think that inside of himself, he had discovered something amazing and returned to Japan, and is sticking to what he wants to do, even if under tough circumstances. I think that because he stuck to his guns, he's able to do what he is doing now. I mean, no one else is doing what he does.

Ryosuke: He is a one-of-a-kind of person.

Saga: He may have had a really rough period, the kind that Ryosuke was talking about earlier, but now he is playing solo shows at Makuhari Messe3. You only sing at WING WORKS lives, right?

Ryosuke: Yes. Actually, there are also some of my solo recorded songs that don't have any real bass sounds. I think that a synth bass would work better there. I make clear distinctions there (laughs).

Saga: I think that is perfectly fine to do. If it's not necessary for the song, then there is no need to put it in the song. Often, there are people who say things like "What a traitor", when a bassist puts his bass down and takes up the microphone. I hate those kind of people. It's nonsense.

Ryosuke: Saga, I wish you were there to say that to my fans right after I went solo (laughs).

Saga: (laughs). I mean, Ryosuke is still doing music. What I really understand from this conversation is that he didn't become a musician because he really wants to play the bass. That's not the order of events.

Ryosuke: That is completely true.

Saga: For example, if in your band, you we were to disregard the vocalist and start singing, you might face criticism. But he is doing solo activities prepared to take on the risks and taking responsibility for what he is doing. You are free to express what you want and how you want. Actually, anything goes.

Ryosuke: That's right. Even before that, there was a period where I was DJing, so I had no objections to standing on stage without a bass, and if I had to say which, the music I want to do with WING WORKS has complex basslines, so I thought it was only natural that I devote myself to singing, so I could produce something of high quality. If I had wanted to do punk music, I think I would be singing while playing the bass.

Saga: Yeah.

Ryosuke: But it's just that my roots are not punk music. That's why I made the instant decision of setting down the bass.

Saga: That was probably the obvious answer for you, right?

Ryosuke: It was.

Saga: It just so happens that the way for him to be himself turned out that way. But don't the people watching not know that? The true Ryosuke?

Ryosuke: Well, I've not been able to communicate that well.

Saga: So there is that kind of struggle.

Ryosuke: Yes. By the way, what are your musical roots, Saga?

Saga: My roots... Before I was introduced to the world of bands, I wanted to be a singer-songwriter. Rather than saying I was doing music because I wanted to play the bass, originally, I looked up to people who composed and sang songs. That is where my interest in music began.

Ryosuke: I see!! Why was that the case?

Saga: My mum and dad had CDs at home. Many of them were from their generation, like folk singers, and influential singer-songwriters, like Miyuki Nakajima. As I continued listening to those CDs, I myself wanted to become a person who composed and sang songs. So in order to become a singer-songwriter, I thought I better first learn the guitar, so I tried to learn the guitar. But then when I was in middle school, I saw a videotape of LUNA SEA, and then affected by the poison that is bands (laughs).

Ryosuke: Poison?! (laughs)

Saga: I made the mistake of discovering bands, and I was completely wrecked (laughs).

Ryosuke: The mistake?! (laughs)

Saga: I got on the wrong path of life because of rock music, and now here I am (laughs).

Ryosuke: I understand what you mean (laughs).

Saga: So to make it easier to form a band, I started playing the bass, thinking it the bass would be better... So the biggest part of my roots is the fact I like songs, and that I want to write good songs. Actually, I'm the type of person to not really be fussy about the instrument I play.

Ryosuke: Me too. That I play the bass is just by chance. Or rather, to me, the bass is no more than an output method for me to express myself. When I decided to learn how to play an instrument because I wanted to do music, it just so happened that the bass was the instrument that fit me the best. Actually, there is something that I really wanted to ask Saga.

Saga: What is it?

Ryosuke: Despite the numerous Visual-kei artists out there, there are very few bassists that are in the main composer position. Also, did you also once say that you like U2 and Aerosmith, and your roots are also American music and stadium rock?

Saga: Yes, that's right.

Ryosuke: Did you say that so that the audience could understand your music more deeply?

Saga: That's right. How should I put it... Even if you were to play the music that is your roots in the scene right now, the audience won't understand you well, or rather, the assumption is that the other members are playing your music. Since your musical roots are going through the filter that is the other members, I do wonder if this music is blending well into this scene. For example, by Show singing the songs, that feeling is neutralized well. I think that to have the fans accept this music in this way is also possible.

Ryosuke: The other day, Show had said to me "Since going independent, A9 will first put out music that is highly artistic". I did certainly think that "PRISMATIC" sounded like Maroon 5.

Saga: Yes, yes.

Ryosuke: So now that I've learned about Saga's musical roots, I can understand that. At the same time, I think that it's amazing because music with that perspective and that approach cannot be found anywhere else in the Visual-kei market. You did a tour in Spring for that release, and didn't you also do a live where you returned to yor roots this Summer?

Saga: That's right.

Ryosuke: Looking at A9 from then on, the mode is completely different to when they had made "PRISMATIC". Up until Summer, I guessed that at that rate, you would become the Japanese U2 or Radiohead, and I was looking forward to it. I really, really like "PRISMATIC".

Saga: Thanks (smiles).

Ryosuke: But... So why did you return to your roots? Isn't it only obvious that you could have kept on going in that direction?

Saga: We can, and we could if we wanted to. But... Looking back on our activities over the last 12 years, we had slowly begun to stray off the path and made new music, saying things like "Our last album was like this, so let's make the next one like this". As we were doing that, wouldn't that also mean that people would have this view of us, like "So A9 is this kind of band"? At the same time, we had also built up our own aesthetic; we had our own branding, or rather, there was this idea of what we should be like, or what we wanted to show. So when it came to making music that did not stray from that idea, it was a situation in where the broad scope of song arrangements was getting narrower. Because we made it a point to not use the methods that we had used before.

Ryosuke: I see, I see.

Saga: Having been doing that, when we were in our 12th year, it had felt like we had done all that we could do. We also had a clear understanding of what we were good at and what we weren't good at. So "PRISMATIC" is to A9, the musical approach that we are the worst at, and the thing we avoided the most to date. Just as I had thought, it's the type of song that is the most difficult for Show. "PRISMATIC" is the song we wrote using the last of the last of what we had, which we hadn't used before.

Ryosuke: I see.

Saga: By writing that song, we had nothing left. I had started to think that if I was to make any more music with a new approach, there was no longer a need to do it as A9.

Ryosuke: Is that so....

Saga: As I was thinking this, we ended up doing a live where we returned to our roots. What I thought after doing the live was that the songs we wrote at the time were a pure manifestation of what we were thinking, and we weren't held prisoner to what we had done in the past. Although we didn't have any musical knowledge, though low quality, the songs we wrote then were good. And at the same time, I wondered what it would be like if we wrote songs with that writing style. It made me want to try writing songs in the same way we did 12 years ago. Strictly speaking, although it would be impossible to do exactly the same thing, there are some things that we have picked up over the last 12 years. In particular, after making our major debut, we were in a blessed environment of having famous producers produce our songs, and we learned many things. There were many things that we had learned, having producers such as Hajime Okano, who also produced for L'Arc~en~Ciel, Akira Nishihira, and Satoru Hiraide, who also produced for UVERWORLD, produce our work.

Ryosuke: That is wonderful.

Saga: But at the same time, we also know that there is no correct answer when it comes to music. And depending on the producer, they might say the exact opposite.

Ryosuke: Right.

Saga: But that is something we learned only after having worked with many producers.

Ryosuke: It's like you came full circle in these 12 years.

Saga: Yeah. In the end, it's just a matter of whether it feels good or bad to that person. But it's only because we took the long way and came full circle that I've come to think that I want to value what I like and what I want to do with A9, and that I want to return to our roots, no matter what others may say. In that respect, we might be coming closer to our first releases... I would like to do music in the way we had done back then, without thinking about anything, but with the brain and body that I have now, in its 13th year.

Ryosuke: I see. It's kind of similar the mode that I'm in right now.

Saga: Yes, maybe.

Ryosuke: Now that we are active as Lolita23q once again, we're writing new songs now. There was blank for a few years, and although it does feel like we've gone back in time, I don't think I can be satisfied with just that. Looking at the times now, my feeling is that I want to show the people who have never seen us before something new.

Saga: Yeah. So you start full-scale activities from next year?

Ryosuke: Yes. We will return to our roots with the five official members.

Saga: "Returning to our roots" is a common phrase for Lolita23q and A9 in our 2017 activities.

Ryosuke: That's right. Let's do something together, as two bands that are in the same mode.

Saga: Since both of our bands are aiming for the same vector and have the same mood, it might be interesting if we could do something together. Let's have a party!

Ryosuke: Let's do it!!

Saga: But before that... let's go have a drink together. There's still plenty more that I want to talk about that we don't have time for here (laughs). There are also things that we can't talk about here (laughs).

Ryosuke: Let's do it (laughs)!!

1 A livehouse in Takadanobaba, Tokyo, and one of the "holy places" for Visual-kei bands. 2 After Lolita23q went on hiatus, some of the other members formed other bands. 3 A very large exhibition hall, which holds about 9000 people.

[ohprettyweeper-moved]

Caught on Fire

Part 4

Summary: The Josephs make an announcement, and you and Josh have another great date.  Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader Word Count: 1570 (not including lyrics) Warnings: None? A/N: Sorry for the late post! Thank you also to @svintsandghosts, @faceofcontvsions, and @takenvysleep for your suggestions for the song in this chapter ... like I said, something came to me as soon as the comments started coming in, but I hope you can enjoy what I chose :)

Series Masterlist

When the day of the barbecue arrived, you were more nervous than you would have thought you would be. You went about your normal day-off routine — go for a run, eat breakfast, shower, get dressed — although you did put a little more care into your appearance today. You had met most of these people before, but never as Josh’s date. Somehow, that made you more nervous than you had ever been with Chad.

“You think people will talk? You know, since I dated Chad before and now I’m dating you?” you asked Josh during the car ride to Tyler and Nicole’s house. 

He thought for a minute. “I don’t know why they would. They all know there was a clean split between you and Chad, and he’s been gone for a while now. There’s nothing to talk about — except that I’m a lucky guy, getting you to show up with me.”

You smiled and let his words calm your fears on the gossip front. It had been long enough since you had seen everyone, you wanted to make a good first impression. Second impression. Whatever the number was, you wanted them to like you as much now as they did before. 

The ice was broken almost immediately when you saw Zack on the back patio, sipping from a bottle of water and chatting with Mark, another firefighter. 

“Look who’s up and walking,” you smiled, going to hug him. “Much better than the last time I saw you.”

Zack chuckled and gave you a comfortable side hug. “Yeah, feeling way better now that that clot is dissolved.”

“How’d you manage to get out? Four days ago you were struggling to breathe.”

“It helps when your sister-in-law is the hospital’s favorite trauma doctor,” Nicole teased, coming out of the slider carrying a fruit tray. 

You smiled and asked if you could help with anything. “I don’t mind.”

“You help enough at work,” she assured, carefully navigating her way toward the table where food was already being set up. 

You shrugged and looked around for Josh who hadn’t stuck around long once the two of you made it into the backyard. You spotted him over by Tyler, who was grilling burgers and hot dogs. Smiling to yourself, you beelined for him. 

“Y/N, hey,” Tyler greeted, giving you a high-five as Josh put an arm around you. 

“Doing okay?” Josh asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Saw Zack. Good to see him out of the hospital.”

“No kidding,” Tyler scoffed. “If you can think of anything to convince him not to ever pull a stunt like that again, I’d appreciate it.”

Though your first reaction was to chuckle, you knew better than to let it out; Tyler was being serious. No one worried about their little brother more than Tyler did. 

“I’m gonna grab a drink — want one?” Josh asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, water’s great. Thank you.”

He left for the cooler, but you turned back to Tyler. You could tell from his furrowed expression that he wasn’t impressed at all with Zack and his hospital stint, and you wondered what kind of conversations had happened since Zack got to come home. 

“He looks up to you, you know,” you commented. 

Tyler flopped the hamburgers onto a plate and shut the grill cover. “Will you see if Nic has another plate for the hot dogs?”

“Yeah, of course.” You hoped you hadn’t upset him anymore than he already was, and made a mental note to mention to Josh that you may have crossed the line. 

Before too long, everyone was seated around the patio, munching on burgers and hot dogs and pasta salad and all the other barbecue usuals. There was some conversation between bites and emptying plates, including a few questions sent your direction about how things had been going since Chad left. 

“It was rough for a little bit, which is to be expected, I guess,” you shrugged. “When he left, he pretty much just stopped talking to me, all together. I expected some communication, since the only reason we split was that he moved. But it was just … nothing.”

Josh reached over to squeeze your hand. “He actually cut off with all of us, I think. Like I don’t think any of us talked to him after he left.”

You shrugged again. “It is what it is. I got over it, got into work, made friends. And now I’m here.”

“Right where she should be,” Brad spoke up. “With our Joshy!”

“Joshy?” you repeated on a laugh. “Oh, that one’s gonna stick.”

The somewhat somber moment was lightened by everyone’s laughter. You helped Nicole clean up from the food mess and package away the leftovers, then chatted in the kitchen with her until Tyler announced that it was time. 

“Time for what?” 

Nicole smiled but didn’t answer. You followed her out through the slider, trekking over to where Josh was seated around the patio table. You leaned gently against him, one arm draped over his shoulder. He tilted his chin up to you, and you leaned over for a kiss. 

“If we could have everyone’s attention,” Tyler said, his arm around his wife. Her eyes were tearing a little, and you worried what might be coming next. What if the Josephs were going to be the next to move away?

You reached for Josh’s hand, squeezing hard. He squeezed back, exchanging a puzzled look with you. 

“We waited to wait until things were more certain, so you’ll have to forgive us for not saying anything earlier,” Tyler continued. “You wanna tell ‘em?”

Josh held his breath while Nicole wiped a tear, but tried to keep her cool. It wasn’t often that Tyler made any announcement about his life and Josh didn’t know about it first. Judging from the looks on everybody’s face, though, nobody knew what was coming next. 

Finally, Nicole took a deep breath and let a smile take over. “We’re having a baby!”

A collective sigh of relief was followed by cheers and congratulations. Something resembling a receiving line formed for everyone to hug or shake hands with the parents-to-be, with Josh and Y/N bringing up the the last of the line. 

“Don’t even give me that look,” Tyler laughed. “I wanted to tell you, but someone wouldn’t let me.”

“I wanted to tell them all together!” Nicole defended, accepting Y/N’s hug. Josh hugged her too, then stuck around while the ladies talked due dates and nursery themes. 

He couldn’t believe how happy he felt in that moment — and it wasn’t even his good news. But he was standing with his best friend, talking about an amazing life milestone, and an amazing girl was standing at his side. His brain fast-forwarded, and saw the four of them hosting kids’ parties together and going on double dates and prepping for his and Y/N’s wedding day together. 

“Hey,” Y/N beckoned, elbowing him gently. “You still with us, Dun?”

He nodded and kissed her cheek. “Oh, yeah. I’m with you.”

After helping with clean up after everyone left, Josh drove Y/N back to her house. Neither of them were ready to part for the evening, so she poured each of them a glass of lemonade and sat on her back porch. 

“Lightning bugs,” she smiled, pointing to a corner of the yard. “We used to chase them around when I was little. Never had the heart to put them in a jar and keep them, though.”

Josh simply smiled. He drank his lemonade and enjoyed every second of being in her presence that he could manage. When both of their glasses were empty, Josh stood from his chair and extended a hand to her. 

“Dance with me.”

She raised a brow, but didn’t protest or question his motives. Her hand slipped into his, and the other rested just behind his shoulder. Josh settled his free arm around the small of her back and swayed them back and forth. He hummed a tune in his throat, until all the words came back to him. 

Someday when I’m awfully low When the world is cold I will feel a glow Just thinking of you And the way you look tonight 

Y/N grinned when she recognized the song and joined in on the next part. 

Yes, you’re lovely, with your smile so warm And your cheeks so soft There is nothing for me but to love you And the way you look tonight 

She swallowed and licked her lips. “I suppose love is a little intense at this point.”

“But not completely out of the question,” Josh replied. “Sooner than you might think.”

He didn’t need a swarm of those lightning bugs to see her blush. He continued humming while they danced, until he realized what she might be hinting about. 

“You ready for us to call this exclusive?” he asked. 

She looked at the ground, taking a step away and wringing her hands. “I didn’t mean to be subtle or to fish, I just — we said we needed to figure out what this thing is, and then we didn’t talk about it again, and I — I want us to be exclusive. This thing, Josh, I want it to be us. Together.”

Josh hooked a finger under her chin. “Look at me. I wanna see your eyes when I tell you that it’d be the second luckiest day of my life when you agree to be my girl.”

“Second luckiest?”

Josh raised a brow, giving her a second to catch on to his point. She laughed, leaning into him; Josh caught her face in his hands and kissed her hard. 

He kissed his girl. 

Tags:@takenvysleep @faceofcontvsions @svintsandghosts @adversaryproject

[jintheawkward]

written on your skin

pairing: JinKook (Seokjin | Jungkook) words: 7903 summary: it was supposed to be a normal day. their anniversary, but still, pretty much a normal day. unfortunately, that’s not how things went.

aka seokjin got his first tattoo, but to his boyfriend's displeasure, not in jungkook’s studio.

ao3

A hand covered his, stopping him from breaking the dishes by his vigorous and thorough wiping.

„Co-owner or not, I will take it out of your pay, if you break another glass.”

Seokjin looked up from the cup in his hands to see Hoseok frowning at him, but he could tell he wasn’t really mad.

“Sorry,” Seokjin said with a sheepish smile as he put it away, reaching out for a different mug in the dishwasher. “I was just trying to get this coffee stain and it wouldn’t go off.”

“A stain, or its actual paint?”

Not being in the mood for snarky comments, he left the question without an answer and proceeded to dry the rest of the dishes.

“Hyung, is everything alright?”

The quiet conversation with occasional slurping pauses, which had been taking place at the other side of the kitchen for the last hour, completely halted and Seokjin felt Jimin and Taehyung watching him with an eagle eye.

“I’m okay, Hobi.”

Raising their eyebrows at each other, his younger employees exchanged meaningful looks which only meant that they were having one of their weird telepathic moments again.

“I’m not blind nor stupid, you know,” said Hoseok in his parent voice that never failed to make their friends nervous. “Something is clearly eating you up.”

“Oh, he’s just frustrated with Jungkook,” Jimin butted in before finishing his strawberry juice in few gulps.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be the ones doing the cleaning? What are we exactly paying you for?”

“Our big smiles and young spirit!” Taehyung beamed with positivity. “But Jimin is right, this is because of Jungkook.”

“Yeah, Seokjin-hyung has been checking his phone the whole day, and everytime he did, he sighed and got this ugly scowl on his face. Like this one now, look!”

Seokjin didn’t hesitate to swat away Jimin’s finger that kept pointing at him.

“Shut up.”

“What did that brat do again?” Hoseok asked tiredly, and he couldn’t care less about them killing each other.

“Nothing,” Seokjin uttered, pushing his annoyance to a side, at the same time that Jimin scoffed, “Being himself.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Taehyung asked rhetorically as he continued demolishing the cake leftovers from that day. “That ass forgot about their anniversary.”

Seokjin gave Taehyung a warning stare because the boy was about to skate on thin ice. No one in their right mind would try to grate at the nerves of a person who was already on edge, especially if that person was Seokjin.

“What, am I wrong?”

Putting down a plate, Hoseok blinked in surprise and leaned against the sink with his hand on the hip.

“Hold on, what anniversary?”

Taehyung licked his fingers clean and folded his arms on the counter, his eyes narrowing in thought.

“Well, it was during your birthday party that Seokjin and Jungkook basically got together, right?”

As Seokjin was taking a breath to finally say something, Taehyung wasted no time in sharing his conclusions once he received Hoseok’s nod of confirmation.

“We have August now, so according to my calculations, today should mark their six-month anniversary,” he said, a proud grin of victory playing on his lips when he and Jimin high-fived. “See, Namjoon-hyung isn’t the only Einstein in our squad.”

“Also, we’ve been kind of counting,” Jimin admitted with no shame. “I mean, it took us ages to make you two stop dancing around each other, and actually do something about the sexual tension. So, of course, we’re keeping an eye on you. We’ve created you.”

“Oh,” Hoseok murmured, and it sounded like the saddest sound ever uttered when sympathy entered his voice and he glanced at Seokjin with a pity. “Is that what the morning reminder on your phone was for? Is it your and Jungkook’s anniversary today? And he forgot?”

To be fair and honest, Seokjin wasn’t usually keeping up with anniversaries either, so he internally cursed at himself for listening to Hoseok and setting up the special countdown app on his phone few months ago, just because his friend had found it cute and had been using it as well.

Now, half a year later, it only brought Seokjin frustration and disappointment – Jungkook was miles away since he had been sent to one-week courses by his boss to learn some advanced tattoo techniques, and he wasn’t answering his phone today because they were supposed to have some intense session.

And that would be perfectly fine if Seokjin wouldn’t know today was their six-month milestone.

Damn you, modern technology. Farewell, sweet oblivion.

“It’s not a big deal. He’s probably busy at the workshop.”

“You don’t have to act nonchalant, hyung.” Jimin wrapped his arms around Seokjin from behind like a baby koala, nudging him with his head. “It’s okay to be upset, you know.”

“Let us take you out tonight! Actually, we all should go!”

“Great idea, Tae,” Hoseok exclaimed, his entire face brightening up with excitement as he scrabbled for his phone. “I’m calling Namjoon.”

Scoffing, Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, because being with couples on my anniversary is going to make my lonely loser self feel better.”

“We’re not dating!” Both Jimin and Taehyung loudly protested, to which Seokjin only shrugged since he had no intention to get himself into another discussion on the topic of ‘exclusive best friends with benefits’, or whatever they were calling it.

“Of course,” Hoseok brushed them off quickly as he was tired of hearing the same old song as well. “But hyung, we should totally hit the town tonight, have something yummy to eat, get some drinks, maybe dance a little bit...”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I’m not letting you go home so you could indulge in self-pity and beer, because you would only end up eating yourself out of house and home during a Studio Ghibli marathon.”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad plan,” Seokjin grumbled in disagreement.

“Come with us,” Taehyung pleaded as he latched onto him, joining Jimin in the group hug. “It’s gonna be fun!”

With a sigh, Seokjin glanced between his friends. His eyes met Hoseok, who immediately broke into a smile as he was sure they had won the battle.

“Night out it is,” Hoseok laughed, already pressing his boyfriend’s number on speed dial. “I’ll ask Namjoon to bring Yoongi-hyung along. You know, in case you wanted to roast him for sending Jungkook away.”

“Min Yoongi, where the fuck are you?” yelled Seokjin into the phone, which he held close to his mouth even though the music played on the jukebox wasn’t that loud and the bar seemed quite empty as the Friday night rush crowd had yet to arrive.

“Home. Just like I told Namjoon I would be, before he left work to meet you, guys,” answered Yoongi calmly. There was a sound of running water in the background, so Seokjin was pretty sure that the traitor was about to get himself a nice bath with one of his favourite bath bombs. “I feel dead tired, so I’m ready to go catch some Z’s.”

“That’s bullshit. We lived together for four years and I have never seen you go to bed before 3AM.”

“Today was really crazy. And as you know, we’re kind of short of staff right now.”

Seokjin didn’t even try to keep the scoff out of his voice.

“And I wonder whose fault it is.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Yoongi heaved an annoyed sigh, and it sort of sounded like a growl. “But I had no other choice, hyung, so can we have this damn conversation some other time?”

Before Seokjin could come up with a witty comeback, the line clicked and went silent. He stared at the phone in his hand in disbelief.

“Not only did he stood me up, he’s just hang up on me.”

“Yoongi-hyung is probably afraid that if he shown up, Seokjin-hyung would skin him alive since it’s his fault that Jungkook is missing their anniversary,” Jimin laughed and brought the half-empty bottle of beer to his lips.

“We did have lots of clients today, though,” added Namjoon, ever the conciliator and diplomat. “I can’t even feel my arm since I had an appointment after an appointment.”

After listening to their chat in a focused silence, Taehyung briefly glanced up from the beermat house he had been building for the last twenty minutes.

“But unlike someone, you still came, hyung.”

“Well, that’s because I’m here, duh,” Hoseok said with an eyeroll, linking arms with Namjoon and smiling at him afterwards.

“Purely and simply, Yoongi is a coward who, for his own good, chose not to meet me today.”

“Or a genius, actually,” Namjoon pointed out with an amused chuckle, but he immediately attempted to mask it with a fake cough when he caught Seokjin’s unimpressed scowl. “You know, if you consider all the circumstances.”

“Alright, alright,” Taehyung called out to catch their attention, knocking down the little construction on the table with his hand. “The mood is getting dull here, so we need to move somewhere more fun.”

The thing about Seokjin and alcohol was that he knew his levels and the way with them - what to do to get his buzz going and become tipsy, and how many drinks he needed to add to that to get actually drunk or, if the critical situation called for it, royally wasted.

“Hyung, you shouldn’t drink that much,” mumbled Hoseok sleepily as if he heard what was going on in his mind, his words coming out a bit muffled since his head was buried in the crook of Namjoon’s neck. “There’s a difference between having fun and getting pissed.”

“Oh, is there?” Seokjin smirked and continued to circle the rim of the glass with his finger. He was approximately three shots away from a morning headache. A bearable one, but still, a headache. “I feel like you’re the one who had enough, Hobi.”

With one hand wrapped around Hoseok’s waist and the other stuck in a bowl of nuts, Namjoon stopped munching on the peanuts and took a brief look at his boyfriend who snuggled to him closer. Only Hoseok would take a nap in the middle of a nightclub. And possibly Yoongi.

“Yeah, I think I should take him home.”

“Actually, both of you had enough,” Seokjin emphasized when he took in Namjoon’s hooded eyes and dopey grin, “I will call you a cab.”

Namjoon let the lazy smile take over his face, and Seokjin was immediately greeted by his dimple.

“Thanks, hyung.”

“Don’t mention it.” Seokjin waved a dismissive hand at him while staring at the glass of amber coloured liquid in front of him. Eventually, he made his decision and knocked back his drink.

Two more, and he could claim himself officially drunk.

“You’d better call it a night,” said Namjoon as he shrugged on his jacket and zipped Hoseok up as well.

“Maybe later.”

Namjoon’s emotions were usually all over the place after he took few sips of beer, and knowing that it was more often leaning towards the sad side, Seokjin forced the corners of his mouth up.

“I’m fine, Joon, so don’t worry about me too much, okay?”

“Be careful.”

“You too.”

After throwing Hoseok’s arm over his shoulders and hoisting him up, Namjoon gave Seokjin a quick, but gentle, squeeze on the shoulder and then he headed for the exit, stumbling his way with Hoseok through the crowd to wait for the taxi outside.

“We bumped into Namjoon-hyung and Hoseok-hyung on their way out,” Jimin blurted out when he and Taehyung appeared, slamming the tray full of drinks on the table. “Since the old married couple has left, who’s going to finish these now?”

Taehyung hold his hands up in an immediate refusal. “Don’t look at me, I have my coke.”

“You have taste buds of a child,” Jimin commented, all giggles and hiccups, but he filled Taehyung’s glass with the remaining soft drink anyway, and the other took a sip from a straw.

“Alcohol doesn’t make you more adult than me.”

“Whatever you say,” said Jimin with zero interest, already pushing a shot of crystal clear liquor towards Seokjin. “I guess, it’s just you and me, hyung.”

As they clinked their glasses and continued drinking the health of everyone they could remember, the smallest part of Seokjin’s consciousness reminded him of all the booze of various colours he had consumed that night.

It gave him a slight idea of the nasty brain explosion that would await him the next day.

Oh, well. Let his tomorrow self deal with that.

“Bottoms up!”

Suddenly, Seokjin’s phone on the table lighted up, the vibrations travelling across his palm.

“Oh, now you are calling me,” Seokjin smirked at the screen as he rejected the incoming call from Jungkook and proceeded to delete the nine unread messages that he assumed were most likely from him as well. “But guess what, I am the one who’s busy now.”

“Is that Jungkook? Shouldn’t you…”

“Nope.”

“Fine, whatever suits you,” murmured Taehyung with a raised eyebrow, not pressing further when Seokjin turned off his phone and shoved it in the pocket of his jeans.

Smiling like a Cheshire cat, Jimin propped his head on his hands. “Let’s have some fun.”

“We could play a game,” Taehyung suggested.

“Great,” Seokjin said, grimacing a little once he finished his drink that was too sweet and too disgusting for his spoilt tongue. “I love games.”

Not only did Seokjin woke up with the deadliest hangover since his college days, but he also welcomed the morning with a terrible case of stiff neck, coming most likely from the thing under his head that was uncomfortably poking him in the nape. It was hard and squishy at the same time, but it definitely didn’t feel like the extra soft pillow he had spent a ridiculous amount of money on.

And hair. There was so much hair everywhere.

Grumbling, he tried to turn around and make himself comfortable in the bed that suddenly seemed very small and crowded. He cracked his eyes open, only to see more of the blond mop. He moved to get away from it, spitting out the strands that got into his mouth and stuck to his lips, however, there was still that thing stabbing him in the neck.

It turned out to be Taehyung’s skinny arm, holding him in sort of a hug. And then there was Jimin, sandwiched between them, which explained the dishevelled nest of hair.

“Uh,” Seokjin groaned out, his head spinning as he shifted again to free himself from the tangle of legs.

Jimin grunted from his sleep, while Taehyung gasped for air as he pulled away and turned over.

“Water and pills are on the nightstand,” Taehyung mumbled drowsily before he drifted back to sleep.

“Thanks.”

He sat up slowly, trying to avoid any sharp movements that would lead to the fruit of his yesterday’s bender making a sudden and unwanted entrance.

Even though he was convinced that death would be a better and more effective solution, Seokjin reached for the water bottle and the packet of tablets that Taehyung must have prudently prepared yesterday, and swallowed two pills at once.

Oh, goodness, what was he thinking? He was way too old to be trying to pull this kind of stunt.

Apart from the throbbing headache that was splitting his head open, and his stomach doing major flip-flops, his body was hurting all over. And it wasn’t the regular pain he would usually wake up to after a night out – this one felt like a bus ran over him, followed by a convoy of trucks, which made him wonder how wild things got last night.

As he managed to keep the churning contents of his stomach from coming up, making his way to the bathroom, he realized it was his left hip that was really calling for his attention.

Honestly, his waist was almost used to all kinds of treatment by now since Jungkook had the eagerness of a teenager and quite strong hands, which he tended to forget about whenever they would fool around.

This time, however, Seokjin’s skin was burning and it felt sore, tight, and all in all very uncomfortable.

Annoyed, he pulled off his pants a little to check whether he had possibly hit himself because the events of last ten hours just mashed into one big foggy blur.

“What, what, what?” Jimin shrieked in confusion when Seokjin started screaming a murder, and he immediately woke up with a flinch so hard that it sent Taehyung rolling off the bed.

Soon after the hard landing, Taehyung’s head with messy hair sticking up everywhere appeared.

He was scowling sleepily, only one of his eyes opened.

“Seokjin-hyung is probably facing the consequence of our stupid game.”          

“It wasn’t our anniversary yet!” Jungkook shouted as soon as he burst through the door with such force that he almost knocked off the tinkling bell above it.

Startled by the sudden noise of Jungkook’s dramatic arrival, Hoseok dropped both the milk pitcher and the mug he was holding, so what used to be a cute latte art spilled everywhere on the counter.

“God fucking Jesus, Jungkook,” he cursed, still clutching at his chest, and breathing through his shock.

“It wasn’t our anniversary yet,” Jungkook repeated, this time in a calmer voice, and he dropped his duffel bag by the high stools. “I mean, mine and Seokjin-hyung’s.”

“How about you tell that to someone who actually cares?” Hoseok asked through his gritted teeth while smiling at the guests nervously. Jungkook looked around, only to be judged by dozens of strangers, so he was quick to join Hoseok in a round of apologetic bows.

When the people stopped paying them attention, Hoseok glanced at the mess of coffee and milk, and started cleaning it.

“Just so you know, Seokjin-hyung was really upset,” Hoseok said, his hand making a gesture that could only imply drinking. “He wouldn’t admit it, but I could tell that he was.”

Jungkook rubbed his hand over his face as he suppressed the urge to scream in frustration.

“This is all just a huge misunderstanding,” he groaned loudly. “Where is he?”

Before Hoseok could give him an answer, an arm looped around Jungkook’s neck, pulling him into a headlock.

“Well, well, well,” a voice hummed in his ear mockingly. “Who do we have here?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he easily freed himself from Taehyung’s grip.

“I don’t have time for this, hyung. Have you seen Seokjin-hyung?”

“Oh, Jungkook, you’re back,” said Jimin who suddenly appeared at his other side, which should come as no surprise since Jimin and Taehyung were basically a package deal. Jungkook couldn’t even remember the last time he saw one of them alone, without the other lurking nearby.

“Yeah, I’ve just got here from the station,” Jungkook nodded absent-mindedly, eyes searching for the familiar pair of shoulders. “I’m looking for Seokjin-hyung.”

There was a quick glance between Jimin and Taehyung, which for some reason disturbed Jungkook a bit.

“Look, no matter what happens, don’t fight, you two. It’s not worth it,” Jimin started, squeezing Jungkook’s shoulder, and then giving the floor to Taehyung.

“Moreover, you were the one who forgot about the anniversary thing, …”

Jungkook was about to argue that, for God’s sake, he didn’t miss anything, but Taehyung didn’t even let him open his mouth.

“… so you can’t get mad at Seokjin-hyung. Or anyone else.”

“Why would I-“

“Just don’t get mad, okay?”

“Fine,” Jungkook agreed with an annoyed sigh, which seemed to calm the two idiots down. “Now, is he here or not?”

Jimin motioned with his head to the kitchen.

“He’s taking a break at the back. Low blood sugar or something.”

“Which is only his excuse to wolf down five scones with a jug of tea, while bossing us around,” grumbled Taehyung, folding his arms over his chest in a quiet protest.

“And he has a right to do so since he, actually, is your boss,” Hoseok sneered at him in return, while handing him a tray loaded with cups, glasses and plates of pastries. “And so am I, which means that if you don’t bring this to table 9, I’m going to find another cute waiter to work for me.”

Although his cheeks puffed out in a pout, Taehyung wordlessly turned on his heel and did as he was told. And before Hoseok could also nag at Jimin, the latter was already moving away with a pen in one hand, and a pad in the other.

“Yeah, take table 5’s order, I know.”

Scrunching up the dirty cloth that was dripping with coffee, Hoseok raised his hand as if he wanted to throw it at Jimin but he ended up laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Like a sunflower following the sun, Jungkook immediately turned around at the melodious voice to face his own source of light and warmth.

Seokjin slipped behind the counter and carefully set down the piles of clean saucers and plates he had brought from the kitchen.

“Hyung!” Jungkook greeted him with a wide grin that seemed to bloom of its own accord whenever his boyfriend was around.

“Oh, Kookie, hi,” said Seokjin in reply, blinking at him in surprise, and for a second, Jungkook thought he heard the dishes clanked against the counter. “I thought you weren’t coming back till tonight. You’re early.”

Jungkook furrowed a little as Seokjin’s lukewarm welcome set off alarm bells in his head.

“I managed to catch an earlier train. What, aren’t you glad to see me?”

“God, of course I am,” said Seokjin, rolling his eyes and shaking off whatever was going through his mind as he planted his hands on the counter and leaned forward with an easy smile. “Come here.”

After the poor attempt to keep his excitement in check, Jungkook mimicked Seokjin’s pose, and let him close the distance with a gentle kiss, followed by two more pecks since Jungkook wasn’t satisfied yet. It didn’t differ from their usual greeting, but somehow the simple touch made Jungkook’s lips tingle as he was reminded of what he had been deprived of for a whole week.

“Really?” grumbled Hoseok in a mock indignation while focusing on arranging the new batch of muffins. “Does appropriate PDA in a workplace tell you something? And by appropriate, I mean none at all.”

Upon hearing Hoseok’s objection, Seokjin snorted and proceeded to jab Jungkook on the chest with his finger since he was trying to steal another kiss from him.

“Right, because you and Namjoon are very subtle when he drops by during his lunch break.”

It was now Hoseok’s turn to scoff, his face then twisting into an offended scowl as he was passing by Seokjin.

“Ts, one could hardly believe that you were calling him various names two days ago,” he mumbled in disbelief before he pushed the kitchen door open and went through.

His words hung heavily in the air, and Seokjin and Jungkook could no longer avoid the topic that neither of them wanted to bring up.

“Um, yeah, about that,” Jungkook started, scratching at the back of his neck, but stopped abruptly when a gentleman cleared his throat next to him before asking Seokjin for a coffee to go.

“We’re okay,” said Seokjin once the customer left with his cup of double espresso.

“No, I’m really sorry about not answering my phone that day, but I was in the middle of this workshop, so…”

“Jungkook, I get it. There’s no need for you to explain yourself or something.”

“I feel like I should since you were mad at me. Still are.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it anymore,” said Seokjin as he tried to laugh it off. “Neither of us is actually into that anniversary stuff anyway.”

“Then why weren’t you picking up my calls later that night? Or yesterday?” Oh, great. Now he sounded just like a crazy clingy boyfriend. Or his Mom.

“Well, the thing is,” Seokjin hesitated and it was his turn to fidget on the spot. “I went out with Jimin and Taehyung because they didn’t want to leave my sorry ass alone, then we got carried away and I might have drowned my phone in beer.”

“What?” deadpanned Jungkook as he couldn’t help himself but stare at Seokjin with a blank expression, however, he thought better and quickly held up one hand. “Nevermind, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Nope, you definitely don’t,” Seokjin said, and Jungkook was probably imagining things but there seemed to be some kind of ambiguity in his words.

“Anyway, I do have something you might wanna hear."

Seokjin’s eyes twinkled with interest as he leaned closer.

“Oh, really?”

“It’s kind of a funny story.” To emphasize his words, Jungkook laughed a little, although it sounded more nervous than joyful. “Our anniversary is today, actually. That is, if we cared about stuff like that.”

“No, it’s not,” Seokjin disagreed, motionless and dead serious.

“Yes, it is.”

This time, Seokjin even shook his head.

“No, it’s not. I’m pretty sure that two days ago, it was six months since Hoseok’s party.”

“And you’re right. But we weren’t dating then.”

“For fuck sake, stop shitting with me, Jungkook.”

“Look, we did kiss there for the first time. And had a pretty much good time making out.” Unfortunately, that one particular memory got lost in a drunken haze and remained foggy in Jungkook’s head. “But I can barely remember that. Moreover, I almost threw up all over your shoes too.”

“Oh, Jungkook,” murmured Seokjin with a consoling smile before cracking up. “You did throw up all over my shoes.”

Jungkook took a deep breath as he closed his eyes.

“Anyhow, I refuse to acknowledge that as the start of our relationship,” said Jungkook and glossed over that mortifying experience since he had never felt so embarrassed in his life, especially about something he couldn’t even recall properly. “So, our anniversary is today, because it was today that we went on our first date and I asked you to be my boyfriend.”

“Excuse you,” Seokjin objected, “it was me who did all the asking because you got so damn shy suddenly, considering you had bickered with me for an eternity before.”

“Do you have to correct or comment on everything I say? You know, not everything is a competition.”

“Funny to hear that from someone who always has to have the last word,” Seokjin smirked and patted him patronizingly on the cheek, which Jungkook repaid with a shove and a glare. “But fine, let’s say today is our anniversary. Any plans?”

“Maybe,” Jungkook replied, grinning. “Just give me the keys to your apartment.”

Seokjin tilted his head, wondering.

“Why? Are you going to move in to surprise me?”

The question, combined with Seokjin’s serious expression, caught Jungkook off guard and his guts clenched in panic.

“Jesus, no, I want to make you a dinner,” he mumbled while a hot blush crept up his neck and into his cheeks, making Seokjin burst out laughing.

“Chill, I’m just kidding,” said Seokjin, out of breath as he failed to control his laughter. “But dinner sounds good.”

“When are you getting out of work?”

“Two more hours, and then I’m done. Should I stop by the store?”

“No, just bring yourself.” Shaking his head, Jungkook pulled himself up and kissed Seokjin over the counter. “I’m going, see you later.”

He threw the duffel over his shoulder and Seokjin placed a quick peck on the corner of his mouth.

“See you. And don’t make a mess.”

As soon as Jungkook opened the door, he didn’t even wait for Seokjin to get inside and rushed back to the kitchen in fear that their dinner would burn to the bottom of Seokjin’s new pan – it was hard to say which would be worse.

“You know, when you said you were going to cook for me, I expected something fancier than fried rice for the special occasion,” Seokjin admitted amusedly once he breezed in, joining Jungkook by the stove. Snaking his arms around Jungkook’s waist, he pulled the back of his shirt down a little and kissed the tattoo on his nape like he always did.

The Virgo constellation had been Jungkook’s first tattoo, and when he had decided to expand it and get the Sagittarius part after two months of dating Seokjin, Yoongi had said it would look like a fucked up chemical structure together and called him a cheesy sap, but he did it for him anyway.

“Hey, I make the best kimchi fried rice,” protested Jungkook, mixing the rice while Seokjin hooked his chin over his shoulder, his hair soft and ticklish against Jungkook’s cheek. “Besides, it would be either this, a dish I’ve mastered to perfection and even more, or a half-assed attempt at French cuisine turning into a muck.”

“Alright, alright, you’re the chef,” said Seokjin in surrender, and both their bodies shook with his laughter since he was still hugging Jungkook.

“But if it’s not enough for you, I ordered chicken too, and beer is in the fridge.”

“Okay, now that’s the kind of fancy I’m talking about,” said Seokjin, happy and excited like a little child as he took Jungkook by his chin to turn his head and kiss him. “You’re the best.”

Jungkook smiled against his lips before shooing Seokjin away.

“I know. Now go take a shower and let the best boyfriend finish cooking.”

When Seokjin later walked out of the bathroom, fresh and clean, he returned to a feast consisting of Jungkook’s famous kimchi fried rice, two boxes of seasoned and fried chicken, and two bottles of beer, everything carefully spread on Seokjin’s small coffee table.

In the middle, there was a candle burning, and the smell of food was mixing with its sugary scent. It was one of those giant 3-wick jars from Bath & Body Works, and Jungkook had to bring it from the bedroom because he couldn’t find anything better.

Seokjin chuckled when he noticed it.

“And people think I’m the romantic one out of the two us.”

“Shut up and sit down.”

As they were lounging on the couch and eating the fried rice straight from the pan hazardly placed between them, Jungkook sipping on his beer and Seokjin humming in delight with a crispy drumstick in one hand and a spoon of rice in the other, while re-watching their favorite anime, Jungkook knew this was how happiness must look like.

“What?” Seokjin asked, slightly furrowing his eyebrows, when he caught Jungkook staring. His hair was messy and still wet from the shower, his lips red and greasy, and Jungkook couldn’t help himself but kiss Seokjin right then and there.

“Happy anniversary, hyung.”

“Happy anniversary, Kookie,” said Seokjin gently and he wiped Jungkook’s lips with his thumb before turning back to the TV. “Now let me eat and finish this episode before you get all mushy.”

“Oh, just fuck you.”

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow, I’m totally pooped out and probably getting into food coma.”

The pan almost tipped over when Jungkook gave Seokjin a shove, and the latter didn’t hesitate to push him back.

Needless to say, it didn’t take them long to devour everything on the table as they managed to do so before the second episode of the anime could even start.

“God, that was perfect,” moaned Seokjin blissfully, not so different from the way he would after a particularly good sex, and he lied down, licking his fingers clean and throwing his arm over his eyes. Jungkook followed suit, tossing away the chicken bone blindly somewhere near the box with a pile of trash.

This time Seokjin let out a groan when Jungkook nestled beside him and dropped his head on Seokjin’s chest.

“Are you trying to kill me?” complained Seokjin, coughing a little. “I’ve done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment.”

Grinning, Jungkook turned over to look at him.

“And what do you deserve then?”

“Only the best, of course,” replied Seokjin nonchalantly as he lifted his arm from his eyes, but his smile was challenging.

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice – he leaned above Seokjin and kissed him, pressing himself close to the body he had been missing so much. As always, they started slow, just to enjoy and appreciate each other’s presence, their mouths moving together gently and gracefully.

Seokjin opened his mouth enough to let the tip of his tongue pass, teasing and tracing the edge of Jungkook’s bottom lip. With a little groan, Jungkook returned the favour with little nips before deepening the kiss by sliding his tongue inside his mouth. It elicited a satisfied purr from Seokjin, who knotted his hands in Jungkook’s hair, roughly running his fingers through it and occasionally giving it little tugs that sent a jolt straight to Jungkook’s groin.

Licking into his mouth, Jungkook could still taste all the spices from their dinner on Seokjin’s tongue. He trailed his mouth down his neck, kissing and sucking at the smooth skin that smelled like fresh and clean laundry, his second weakness right after Seokjin.

When Jungkook moved a bit lower and started to nibble at his collarbones, Seokjin squirmed and lightly pushed at his shoulder.

“I need to do the dishes…” Seokjin breathed out, trying his best to control his voice, and he nudged Jungkook again since the younger didn’t budge at all.

Jungkook ignored him as he continued to lap over the mark he had just made, caressing it with his tongue. “I’ll take care of it later.”

“You’ve already made the dinner, so the least thing I could do is wash the dishes.”

“What, like right now?” Jungkook whined but he stopped what he was doing and sat back on his heels since Seokjin for some reason kept wriggling underneath him.

Sighing, Seokjin looked up at the ceiling as if to calm himself down and regain his composure.

“Yeah, when else?”

“Nope, you’re not going anywhere.”

“Jungkook, let me at least put them in the sink,” said Seokjin as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Nobody is going to do the dishes now. We have more pressing matters at hand,” said Jungkook firmly, leaving no room for discussion, and to emphasize this, he took off his shirt in one swift move.

That immediately shut Seokjin up as his eyes started to trace every line, every dip and every ripple of Jungkook’s body. Seizing his chance, Jungkook took advantage of Seokjin being distracted for a moment, and dove down for another kiss. But this time, there was no prelude or slow build since Jungkook was growing impatient with every passing second.

Without an ounce of hesitation, Seokjin responded with the same amount of hot eager lust, his hands wandering everywhere they could reach. The kisses were getting more wet, sloppy, and desperate, their moaning growing in its intensity. Jungkook enjoyed the feeling of Seokjin’s touches burning against his naked skin, even more the light scratches of his nails. And once Seokjin instinctively spread his legs wider, the excitement in his pants obvious, Jungkook knew that they were both on the same page about their plans for the rest of the night.

“You know, I wasn’t joking about being dead tired,” said Seokjin against his mouth once they finally broke apart, gasping for air.

“That’s fine – just lie there, enjoy yourself and let me do all the work,” Jungkook replied with a grin before he bit down on his neck again, turning his attention to the unblemished parts of skin that only waited to be marked. Meanwhile, his hand sneaked under Seokjin’s loose shirt, running his fingers over his ribs before exploring the smooth defined stomach and-

“Ah, Jungkook, s-stop,” Seokjin hissed in pain, which almost made Jungkook jump up.

“What’s wrong? You okay?” he asked in an alarmed voice, immediately pulling back to check on him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Seokjin said, although he looked anything but fine. Closing his eyes with a defeated groan, he threw his head back against the cushions. “There’s just something I need to tell you.”

“Alright, what’s up?”

“Look, I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen. I was drunk and had no idea what I was doing.”

“Now you’re just making me nervous.” Jungkook couldn’t help the little frown that settled between his brows. “What’s going on?”

Oh my, God, did he hook up with someone? After all, he was handsome, drunk, and pissed off, which was a lethal combination when going out, alluring all the potential one-night stands in the radius.

Did Seokjin cheat on him while he was away?

“What? Jesus Christ, no!”

Jungkook must have said that aloud because Seokjin quickly sat up, reaching out for his hands.

“No, I would never… how could you even think that?”

“So, what is it then? Can’t you just tell me already?”

Seokjin took another deep breath as he lay back down, gingerly lifting the hem of his T-shirt to reveal a red swelling near his waistline which Jungkook had probably touched by accident earlier. The small drawing on his hipbone looked awfully like one of Taehyung’s stupid doodles.

“What happened to-“ Jungkook started worriedly before his eyes widened in realization, threatening to pop out of their sockets. “Fuck, did you get a tattoo?”

Letting his shirt slip back down, Seokjin only managed to nod, whereas Jungkook sprang to his feet and couldn’t seem to stop talking as soon as he put two and two together.

“Moreover, in someone else’s parlour?” he exclaimed, even though he didn’t mean to raise his voice like that. However, he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t irritated – it did kind of hurt his artist’s pride, so there was no point in pretending that he was okay.

“You got your first tattoo, and didn’t ask me to do it? I’ve been begging you to let me draw something for you since day one.”

“I know, and I’m really sorry.” A genuine look of apology crossed Seokjin’s face as he caught Jungkook’s hand in his, tugging at it gently to make him sit down. “But if it’s any comfort to you, it obviously wasn’t planned, and it hurt like hell the next morning. My hangover was nothing compared to it.”

“And where did you even get it?”

“In Holly Gesha, the one down your street. The sketch was Taehyung’s though.”

“What?”

As if sensing another wave of his temper, Seokjin shifted and settled behind him to wrap his arms around him.

“Please, don’t be angry,” he said, then pressed a soft kiss under his ear to placate him.

And honestly, Jungkook was only human.

“I’m not angry,” Jungkook sighed as he found himself sinking against Seokjin’s chest. “At least, not that much. More like disappointed. I kind of hoped that I would be the one to give you your first tattoo. You know, once I would persuade you to get one.”

Jungkook would have never admitted it aloud before but it was a fantasy, a little silly fantasy he had been harbouring since he first met Seokjin.

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” Seokjin mumbled into his hair, his one hand playing with Jungkook’s fingers, while the other petted his head with affection just as he liked it.

“Oh, well, nevermind,” Jungkook said with an air of forced indifference.

Since he could see right through all his acts by now, Seokjin brought his hand to his lips and kissed each and every knuckle tenderly.

“I have no intention to keep this monstrosity on my body, if you have wondered. But in the future, I might be more willing to let you have the honour to pick out something little tiny for me.”

Jungkook felt like there was only one way to react to that – so he turned around and pressed his lips against Seokjin’s.

“I will hold you to that,” Jungkook teased as he pulled away, and this time, the smile came out more easily. “Okay, now let me see the work of our competition.”

Seokjin wordlessly lay on his back and Jungkook pushed his shirt up.

“Oh, God,” uttered Jungkook soundlessly.

He hadn’t paid much attention to it the first time, so he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry on Seokjin’s behalf once his eyes landed on the piece of art permanently inked on his skin.

With no doubt, the design definitely belonged to Taehyung, because it was goofy, adorkable and disgustingly sweet. Who else would think that a “Bread Genie” with a dancing genie lamp and a toast would make a good tattoo?

“Please, tell me it’s not infected and that I’m not going to die in the next 24 hours,” Seokjin demanded since Jungkook’s silence was disconcerting him.

“No, it’s fine. It will feel sore for a while, but otherwise you should be alright. Let it breath, put ointment on it regularly, and avoid wearing tight clothes.”

“Oh, the perks of dating a tattoo artist,” Seokjin smirked but there was no real bite to it.

“Honestly, I still can’t believe you got your first tattoo in the Holly Gesha. That’s like the world’s dirtiest shithole that even NASA wouldn’t be able to find elsewhere in space.”

“Yet, you know the tattoo shop.”

“That’s because it’s the world’s dirtiest shithole,” deadpanned Jungkook. “And what the fuck is gesha, anyway?”

“A type of coffee beans,” replied Seokjin casually, rolling his eyes when he saw Jungkook staring at him with his eyebrows raised questioningly. “I’m a barista, I know my stuff okay?”

Jungkook scoffed and slapped him on the stomach.

“Did you get your tattoo in a freaking coffee house or what? I’m actually surprised it didn’t came out worse than this.”

“Look, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t left for a week to go on that summer camp thing,” said Seokjin, his voice sleepy and eyes closing.

“It wasn’t a summer camp but an art tattoo workshop,” retorted Jungkook as he reached over to pinch Seokjin’s clothed nipple, which made the older yelp and shove his leg in Jungkook’s crotch. “And don’t blame me, Yoongi-hyung was the one who told me to go – it’s not like I could say no.”

“That devil is getting back on me for making fun of his spoilt dog by sending my boyfriend to some artsy club.”

“Art tattoo workshop.”

“Potayto, potahto,” said Seokjin with no interest, rolling his eyes. “The thing is that you weren’t here, I got drunk, played a stupid game with Taehyung and Jimin, and somehow ended up with a freaking tattoo.”

“So, it’s my fault now?”

“Technically speaking-“

“Maybe we should stop before we fight,” Jungkook decided to cut him off since the discussion was leading nowhere, at least nowhere he wanted to go.

Resting his back against Seokjin’s thigh and the sofa, Jungkook pulled his other leg into his lap and started to lightly massage it. “Anyway, how did you want to hide it from me? Your hips are like my favorite spot."

"I know, that's why I eventually spilled the beans.”

As if he saw the gates to heaven, Seokjin let out a little moan the moment Jungkook hit the right spot. Encouraged by the response, Jungkook continued to expertly knead the tight muscle to hear more of those beautiful sounds only Seokjin could make.

Once he managed to loosen the stiffness in Seokjin’s calf a bit, Jungkook slipped between his legs again, hovering over Seokjin, because even his will had its limits.

“It’s kinda cute, though,” he admitted with an expression bordering between coyness and mischief as he lowered his head, peppering Seokjin’s face and jaw with languid kisses until his lips slid to the silky skin of his neck, gradually travelling to his clavicle and further down his chest.

“No, it’s horrible,” Seokjin spluttered and his voice hitched as he glanced at Jungkook who just swirled his tongue around his navel. “Jungkook, what are you doing?��

“What do you think I’m doing?” Rubbing his lips together, Jungkook cocked an eyebrow in amusement as he started to pull down the sweatpants that were already sitting dangerously low on Seokjin’s hips. “Like I said, relax and let me take care of you.”

Seokjin didn’t get a chance to reply, his eyes rolling back in his head when Jungkook finally plunged down to keep his promise.

“… and now I kind of want him to keep it, but he’s determined to get rid of it.”

Slurping up his coke and staring at him with his poker face, Yoongi remained silent, so Jungkook took it as a sign to go on.

“I mean, I was hating it at first, but then we had sex and I don’t think I’ve ever come so quick and hard. Okay, maybe that one time he fucked me into the chair in the studio-“

“Gross, too much information!” Yoongi interrupted, making fake gagging noises as he threw him a disgusted look. “Why are you even telling me this? You know, there are things I don’t want to know about Seokjin-hyung, and this particular door should stay closed forever.”

“But, you’re my mentor-“

“That only applied to your apprenticeship which you completed two years ago.”

“-and my friend. And as my friend, you need to listen to my worries, hyung.”

“I think your tattoo kink doesn’t count,” Yoongi smirked and peered into a paper bag with their takeaway lunch in it. “Unless you pop a boner in the middle of a session with a client.”

As Jungkook opened his mouth, ready to bite back like the cheeky brat he was, the curtain was drawn aside and Namjoon emerged from his tattoo room where he had been working on some sketches to expand the galaxy on his arm.

“Did you clean up after yourself?” Yoongi asked after Namjoon plopped down at the table next to him.

Yawning, Namjoon rubbed at his eyes.

“I will, but let me eat first, hyung. I’m starving.”

“You have an appointment at one.”

“I know, so chill, everything will be spanking clean,” Namjoon reassured him calmly as he reached into the bag for his burrito and unwrapped it, destroying the tin foil unceremoniously. “Anyway, what are you talking about?”

“Apparently, Seokjin has a tattoo now,” said Yoongi with a meaningful look, handing him bunch of napkins because God knew Namjoon would need them.

Namjoon chuckled around a mouthful of his food.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“And our boy here is realizing his fetish for inked skin.”

“Oh, it’s probably not really the tattoo that’s making him all excited, but Seokjin himself.” Namjoon laughed again, only this time pieces of meat, beans and rice flew out of his mouth. “You worship the ground he walks on, so don’t worry, I don’t think it’s the teacup and cookie that are turning you on, Kook.”

“Genie lamp and bread, hyung.”

“Whatever,” said Namjoon, shrugging, before he took another bite. “I mean, Seokjin could have rainbow sprinkles on his dick and you would still get a massive hard on and go down on him without a question.”

Jungkook didn’t feel a bit sorry when the nacho chip he threw at Namjoon hit him right on the forehead.

“Hey, shut it, that’s my boyfriend’s dick you’re talking about.”

But it wasn’t like Namjoon was wrong – Jungkook had enough guts to admit that – because rainbow sprinkles or cute bread tattoos, Jungkook loved Seokjin from head to toe.

And nothing could change that.

[yourhelpfulaffiliate]

My 1st Month Blogging with Wordpress

Introduction

As I rounded out my first month blogging on Wordpress I thought, why not write a blog about it. In this article I will talk about why I started blogging, the Wordpress plan I use, some tools I use to help me blog, some tips and tricks I have picked up and some milestones I have passed.

My 1st Month Blogging with Wordpress

Why I Started Blogging With Wordpress

I’ve been trying to make a passive income online for years. I tried all the get rich quick scheme‘s and none of them works. I moved from print on demand to drop shipping to Multi level marketing and they all taught me one lesson. If you’re selling just to sell no one‘s going to buy. You really need to offer valuable and helpful advice, insight or something they can’t get anywhere else. My last project was trying to promote a platform called Builderall. I built out this fancy landing page with all the information about Builderall. It had all the plans and features Builderall offered and different tools you can use. Then I set a ton of traffic to that landing page. I did get some people to sign up for free trials but no one stuck around and I made zero commissions. And then Builderall completely changed how their payment plan was structured and how the entire program works so that landing page I had worked so hard on became trash. I didn’t like the restructuring or the change in payment plans and I had grown tried of pushing Builderall on people that it would not help. Not to say Builderall does not have good tools, it is just over priced and not really the place someone should start making money online. So I decided to try something different. I closed my Builderall account and every other website I had up running and I started this Wordpress blog. I wanted to do something different where I could provide real value and help people instead of just trying to make sales. It took me years to learn this lesson. That is why am talking about it today so that you can learn from my mistake and save yourself years of wasted effort. Through these years of failure I have developed a passion for the correct ways and methods that you can actually make a sustainable passive income online so that is what I chose to be my focus for my blog.

The Wordpress Plan I Use

I started at using the free Wordpress plan to get it the feeling of how to use the platform. Once I became comfortable with the platform and had written five blog posts I started looking into the paid plans. There where few of the reasons I wanted to look into the pay plans. First of all I wanted to connect my domain to my blog. Second I to be able to monetize the blog with adWords. After using the premium for a while, probably about two weeks maybe three weeks I started looking into the business plan on WordPress for a couple of the added features. I wanted to be able to get plug-ins so that I could automatically shrink the size of the photos that are on my blog. Large photos slow down loading speed for your website and that was a major problem I saw when investigating my website loading speed. This was a problem I wanted to address rather quickly. Another reason I wanted to have access to plug-ins was for a plug-in called Yoast SCE. I just kept seeing every other slightly successful blog saying that this is a a very powerful plug-in and that will help your blogs rate in rank in search engines. So I really wanted to get that plug in. The third reason I wanted to upgrade to the business plan was I wanted to be able to integrate Google analytics into my website. Every other website I’ve ever created I’ve been able to integrate Google analytics with it. I am very familiar with Google analytics so I wanted to be able to connect this blog to Google analytics to get more data on my website visitors. The price difference between the premium plan an the business plan was quite a jump for someone like me who is not making any money from their website. I did see the added benefit of upgrading. It maked sense to me for the added features. I used Mercari, a marketplace phone app, to sell some of my high value Magic The Gathering cards to raise funds to pay for the business plan. While I did this I continued to research the business plan and the added features that would come with it. During this period of time I contacted WordPress support through the chat box that’s included on my WordPress dashboard several times about questions regarding setting up my website and connecting it to Google Search Console and my various social media accounts. As I was having one of these discussions I asked the person who was helping me if there was a way to connect my Google analytics account to my website. He said you can’t do that on the premium plan but you can on the business plan. So I asked him if they have any promotions or coupons at this time that would decrease the price of the business plan and he gave me one! I suggest you use this a technique anytime you talk to any customer support. Always ask if there’s a promotion or if there’s a coupon that will decrease your payments. I mean it it works for me like three times out of 10 but it can save you a lot of money and it’s just one question. So once I had the money from the Mercari sales plus the coupon code I went to the sales page to upgrade to the business plan. I decided to pay for two years because it would really hammer down that I’m in this for the long run. Plus having the coupon code made sense buying a larger plan and having that discount. Since I started this blog my end of the line goal is to have a semi successful blog in two years. I measure that as this blog making an average of five dollars a day everyday. I wanted to set the bar low so I’m not disappointed. I feel like I can achieve this goal if I work towards it and I invest in proper tools as well as learn every day and write as much as I can. Currently I have the WordPress business plan. If you asked me when I signed up for the free plan if I would have a business plan by the end of the month I would’ve told you no. However, after using and understanding WordPress and the features that come with upgrading your plan it just made sense for ease of use and the plug-ins capabilities. If you are considering trying out WordPress you can sign up for it through my affiliate link below. This affiliate link pays me commissions at no extra cost to you. https://wordpress.com/alp/?aff=31 I also have a handy referral link for Mercari if you’d like to try that out. If you sign up through the referral link below you will get a $10 coupon off your first purchase using Mercari. Sign up for Mercari and get $10 off your first purchase. Here's my invitation link : https://merc.li/G6bzJWb You may also want to check out this blog post I wrote. https://yourhelpfulaffiliate.com/2019/08/25/why-i-think-mercari-is-better-and-easier-to-use-than-ebay-and-esty/

Tools I Use While Blogging With Wordpress

First of all I want to state the importance of tracking your website data. I am kind of a data addict. So the first tools I’m gonna be talking about involve my website analytics. I use Google Search Console to track what people are typing into the search engine to get to my website. You can Google analytics to track how many people visit my website as well as how long they stay there, what my bounce rate is and how many pages they view while they’re on my website. One invaluable tool to have when writing a blog using Wordpress is the WordPress mobile app. This is one of the main problems I’ve had with other website builders. I use my phone all the time. It’s much easier to work on a blog on my mobile phone then it is to haul a laptop around with me. It is just a pain so I really really like the Wordpress app. It works very fluidly between the app and the website. I can work on a blog on my phone then quickly switch over and edit it on my computer once I’m home. WordPress also offers quite a bit of data about how many people visit your website what country they’re from. WordPress also tells you what links are clicked on in your blog. The next tool I use I found to be incredibly powerful although it may seem rather simple. It’s just a small notebook I take with me everywhere I go. You never know when you’re going to come up with a great headline blog idea or something else you need to do that will make your blog better. Instead of letting that idea go I can to get it written down in my notebook. Some of the things I frequently write down in my notebook are blog topics, keywords, notes from research and just plain things I need to do. My wife gave me this next tool and it was a total surprise to me but now I use it every single day. I’ve been a big fan of dry a race boards for a long time mostly because I like using different colors and the sounds and smells it come with chalkboards are just not favorable to me. This dry erase board is in a league of its own. It is a full year calendar dry erase board. I just love it. Below is a in affiliate link for it. This link pays me commission for sales at no extra cost to you. Adfly is a low cost traffic source I use for my blog. You can learn more about it in this blog post. https://yourhelpfulaffiliate.com/2019/09/07/what-the-heck-is-adfly/ tailwind Pinterest FacebookTwitter Instagram Canva Clickbank

Blogging With Wordpress Tips

A major game changer that I discovered is this. Writing a blog posts can be tiring. One way I’ve discovered to ease the tension of creating new content is to use voice to text on my phone. I’m currently writing this article using this technique. I will later edit this on my desktop computer so that I can get cleaned up and I can fix any mistakes that are made using the voice to text feature. Another time saver is to come up with the title and subheadings before your start writing. This makes writing blogs so much easier than just trying to write it all as you go.

Milestones

I launched this blog and connected my domain. I got my first click from a Google search. For the first time someone else asked me to link to their blog on my blog. I wrote my first long form blog post and 17 blogs in 30 day. I got a sweet logo and 6 blog followers. https://youtu.be/RqiIl746atc Read the full article

[umbrahighpriestofgiratina]

A Very Important Fanfic... For My Fanfic Career, anyway.

Well, this is something a bit special. Namely, this a rewrite of where my whole "Yangverse" shared universe project recursively began, done specially for this particular story's fifth anniversary today. It's part of a bigger milestone celebration for the project as a whole, and I hope anyone reading this enjoys both this story and further celebrations to come. On that note, however, due to a time crunch getting both this and another project done I didn't expand on this story as much as I would have liked; however, I do at least feel confident I gave it a good amount of polish to bring it up to my current skill level. But without further ado: Green And White [5th Anniversary Edition]

She was waiting. As always. Here she was, a nigh-powerful white dragon deity, stuck in this tower in the form of a white stone shaped like some bratty human girl's hair accessory. It wasn’t fair. Granted, she wasn’t completely lonely. There were plenty of Druddigon, who patrolled the tower along with the Golett and the Meinfoo. But of those, only high-ranking Druddigon ventured up to check on her and communicate. Bored, she extended her senses outward from her current spherical form to see if there was something, anything, going on. “Reshiram,” she said to the empty space before her, “what are you going to do with yourself?” She wished she could look out of one of the Dragonspiral Tower’s windows at the Unova region beyond. “It's a beautiful place… yet me and my brother out and out destroyed it at one point...” As always, she tried to prevent the painful memories from rushing to the front of her mind. As always, they came back even stronger as a result. ------- In an elaborate throne room, a massive gray dragon stood, looking between two men. One man had long whiite hair but wore a voluminous black cape and robes, while the other had short black hair and shorter white robes.

"Do you really think your deluded visions would ever lead this kingdom to greatness?" said the black-clad one. "Your ideals will only bring ruin!"

"Your plan is built on a flawed foundation," said the white-clad one, "and faulty delusions of truth!"

The dragon looked back and forth between the two, their mind in just as much conflict as the two brothers.

They are divided, utterly... But I could never choose between them, I love them both... I can't... I must...

Suddenly, the dragon felt a horrible feeling, like their body was being slowly ripped apart bit by bit. They screamed, the scream coming out as a roar of anguish.

Finally, the pain stopped, and the dragon opened their eyes.

Her eyes, she realized. She had no idea how she knew, but she sensed it.

Then she looked down at her body.

It was bizarre to look at now. Strange rings encircled her neck, and her body was covered in brilliant white feathers. Her hands, she noticed, were wings. Her tail was even stranger, resembling the torches scattered around the brothers’ castle.

She felt there was something missing. Only by looking at what was next to her did she see exactly how much.

There was another dragon, this one deep black and almost mechanical-looking with its platelike scales and a tail that resembled some sort of futuristic device.

…I think we used to be the same, she thought.

I think likewise, the black dragon thought.

...Wait, you can hear my thoughts?

Pretty much… sister, I should call you?

...That confirms it. And that’s fine.

The two dragons then noticed the two kings looking between them, mesmerized.

Last I remember, the black dragon thought, they wanted us to choose between them.

The white dragon furrowed her brow. How? I doubt it's purely by their fashion sense.

As she thought that, however, she looked over the black-clad king in question. The one who sought truth. The one who wanted the Unovan Kingdom to take what it was and improve in it, make it better. The one opposed to his brother's idea of taking a new approach from scratch.

The more she regarded him the more she realized they were partners in what they believed in.

She moved over to his side. Her brother moved over to the white-clad king's side. The kings regarded the dragons a bit longer then turned on each other again.

"The white one has sided with me! It knows I have found the truth!"

"It doesn't matter! The black one and I shall make my ideal a reality!"

The dragons shifted uneasily. Their loyalties aside, they knew this would not end well.

---- The ruler in black sat alone, except for the white dragon flanking him, looming over him.

"Reshiram?" he said.

She started, then shook her head. That was her name now, she'd have to get used to it.

~What is it?~ she said.

"This... division, between me and my brother," he said, "how has it affected you, given you were once the Arbiter, someone we both cared deeply about? I'm sure there's more to it than just a physical split."

Reshiram paused, thought to herself carefully for a bit, before responding.

~It's... Been odd, certainly. I don't even remember all that much of being the Arbiter, one of the major exceptions being you and your brother, and caring about you in particular.~

The king in black put a hand to his chin. "Did you lean toward me even before, or is this the part of you that chose me talking?"

Reshiram shook her head. ~I cannot say for sure.~

"I apologize."

~It's all right.~

"I wish I could say it was, but there's a harsh reality ahead." He gave her a hard look.

"My brother and I want war." --- She flew across the battlefield, the ruler who sought truth on her back. All around them was carnage and chaos, with the dead lying strewn about and the living fighting endlessly. Suddenly, she saw a blueish shape speeding towards her. Garchomp, Reshiram remembered it was called – a vicious, powerful Pokémon from a faraway land. She realized its reputation was well-deserved when it slammed into her with an Outrage. “Aaaagh!” She immediately retaliated with a powerful Dragon Pulse, which knocked the sharklike Dragon out of the sky. “Well, glad that’s ov- “ She was immediately raked by a powerful Dragon Claw. Turning midair, she was unsurprised to see her ebony brother was the culprit, the ruler of Ideals on his back. …I’m sorry, sister. It’s fine, brother. Like it or not, this is our life now. The two continued clashing, Reshiram firing Fusion Flares and Dragon Pulses and her brother Zekrom retaliating with Fusion Bolts and Dragon Claws. To both it seemed almost neverending. Then they saw a glow that rivaled that of the sun. That glow belonged to a Volcarona, the queen of the desert kingdom to the south. She flew over to the two warring dragons, heat exuding from her in waves out of her fury. “Enough! You four started a war on a whim, and now look at all the damage you’ve caused! I wouldn’t be surprised if you set your sights on my kingdom as a battleground! Well, I’m not letting that happen!” The two dragons looked on with shock and more than a bit of shame. The rulers riding them looked at each other with concern. --- Years passed. War ceased. The brothers agreed to settle their differences, and lived out the rest of their days with their dragons in peace. Their sons, however, weren't so inclined, and it wasn't long before the two dragons were facing each other on a battlefield again. Reshiram, on said battlefield, looked back at the son of the king she had sided with. This is crude, but I have no choice. She then turned to her brother in a fighting stance. He, strangely, seemed shocked. But… can’t we settle this some other way? Our friends, their fathers, said we had to listen to them. I’m taking that to heart, as hard as it is. But it’s not right! We could destroy everything if our power goes unchecked! Do you want to risk that for some stupid argument? I’m sorry, brother. She unleashed a Blue Flare. He retaliated with Bolt Strike. The resulting shockwave spread across Unova, obliterating all in its path. ---- In the present day, Reshiram , berating herself. “You… why didn’t you listen to your brother? His ideals weren’t so stupid right then…” She sighed again, and settled down for a long sleep, in preparation for what seemed like an uneventful tomorrow, or next few millennia, for that matter. --- When she woke up, however, she was surprised to see she first, was whole again, and second, had a visitor. The visitor was human- a male, upon closer, particularly scrutinizing inspection. He wore strange clothes in black, white, and brown hues, and had a hat on his head and a strange cube dangling from his waist. His most striking features, however, were his long green hair, which formed a shaggy ponytail, and his gray eyes, which stared at her with a mix of awe and… was that embarrassment? She hadn’t seen a human in so long, she couldn’t tell. “Can you help me?” said the human. Reshiram tilted her head. Was he talking in her language? “Well, I appreciate you being straightforward…But I need you to tell me what you need help with. “ “I need to separate humans and Pokémon.” Reshiram’s eyes widened. “But… why?” She noticed he struggled to keep eye contact with her. “Humans have treated Pokémon like slaves for millennia. They’ve abused them, abandoned them, and treated them like nothing but tools or numbers to be crunched. I need you to prove to the Champion of this region that they must be free.” Reshiram resisted the urge to shake her head in amazement. How did this boy expect to “free” the world’s Pokémon? And yet there was something about him that reminded her of her first friend, the ruler who sought the truth. She got a very strong vibe from him that he wanted the truth about this world as well. And wasn’t he right? Hadn’t millions of Pokémon, even in her time – especially in her time- been treated like dirt? Perhaps she could help him after all. “What do you need me to do?” The human smiled. --- The two were alone, in a castle, one that gave Reshiram vibes of the one she once lived in, yet somehow seemed... Off. Ignoring this for a moment, she started at the young man feeling at her feathers. "What are you doing?!" she said. The green-haired human gave a yelp and jumped back. "I'm sorry! I should have assumed you wouldn't be comfortable with human contact. Most Pokemon I meet aren't at first..." Reshiram blinked a bit at "most" before sighing and shaking her head. "It's fine. Just make sure I can see you, I'm a pretty big mon, as you can tell." "All right," he said. Reshiram tilted her head. "What's your name, anyway? You haven't mentioned it since I got here." The young man paused, then shifted a bit. "It's N." "N? That's it? Just one letter? It's got to be short for something?" "...Natural... Harmonia... Gropius." At that Reshiram snorted so hard in laughter she sent a few flames out from her nose. "Gropius?! Oh, that's rich, no wonder you go by a letter!" N cringed. "Yes, I know, it's... Please, stop..." Reshiram did, looking at him sheepishly. "Oh, um, I'm sorry about that... Should have realized that was a sore spot." "It's all right... It's just... That name is still strange and awkward to me, while the name N is crisp and concise, like the formula to change the world." Reshiram nodded. "Yeah, I'd agree." She looked around. "Though we can't really change much from in here." "I know," said N. "Which is why I've been going out into the world to learn more." He sighed. "Unfortunately, what I've learned has led me to resort to things I'd rather not do..." "What do you mean?" "I'll need to show you." And the two headed off. ---- The Zororark snarled briefly before being sucked into the ball. Three shakes, a click, and it was caught. N shook his head sadly before picking up the ball and turning to Reshiram. “I normally don’t enslave them like this for too long… But I have no other choice. “ “Why don’t you?” she replied. “Because I need to defeat the Champion. I need to show the world I’m not weak. “ “How are you weak? You’re one of the strongest humans I’ve ever seen, both in skill and spirit!” N hung his head dejectedly. “Tell that to Ghetsis. He says I need to be stronger if I want to accomplish Team Plasma’s goal.” “I thought it was your goal, too?” N turned away and gazed off in no particular direction. “After meeting that other boy so many times… I’m not quite as sure of it anymore.” --- Inside Plasma’s castle, N and Reshiram stood waiting. “He’s coming. The other boy. I know it,” said N. “I know we defeated the champion soundly… but are you sure you’ll be OK here until you need me?” N smiled. ”Just wait for your cue.” She flew out through the castle roof and waited. Then, when she heard N calling her name, she burst in with a triumphant roar, placing herself behind N and facing the brown-haired boy foolish enough to try and stop them. Then, something very familiar began to float out of the other boy’s bag. “The Dark Stone!” Reshiram said. “That means…” The stone expanded, unfurled, until it finally formed the shape of her brother Zekrom. He landed in front of his chosen hero and let out a triumphant roar of his own. Long time no see, sister. I’m sorry… about last time… I know. I’m just worried these two will start it all over again. Even if they do have good intentions this time. Let’s hope not. The two began to fight, flames and electrical sparks flying in all directions. At first, it seemed Reshiram had the upper hand. “Hah!” she said as she landed a well- placed Fusion Flare. Zekrom merely absorbed the hit and launched a Fusion Bolt at her. Reshiram roared in pain as the bolt struck a fragile part of her chest. She collapsed, with Zekrom giving a roar of victory. She was barely conscious for what happened next, but she could understand all the same. After the boy emerged victorious over N’s other Pokémon, Ghetsis revealed his true colors. He was manipulating N all along, he said, and that N was just a worthless excuse for a human only good for his plans, a freak. She resisted the urge to fry that monster right there and then, and only because she was too weak. --- Reshiram flew across the ocean, N straddling her back. “Can we stop at that island? Please?” N said. She was surprised, to say the least. N hadn’t said anything since leaving Plasma’s castle. She coasted to a stop on the island N indicated. He hopped off her back, and startled her when he buried his head in her feathers and didn't remove them for a good long while. “I…I trusted him…” Reshiram caressed N with a wing. “N. It's hard, I know, but we need to move on.” “But what do I even move on to? What do we move on to?.” He removed himself from her feathered body and gazed out at the ocean, shaking his head sadly. “I’m nothing. Worthless. I was raised to destroy when I wanted to save. I made so many mistakes and acted all smug and cocky until everything came crashing down.” Reshiram frowned. “You’re not worthless, N. Not in the slightest. And on your metric... I’ve made far worse mistakes than you.” N turned and looked at her expectantly. She noticed he no longer struggled to keep eye contact. “And those people who say you’re worthless or horrible? They don’t matter. You can be something great, something like the world has never seen before. “ She smiled. “I believe in you, N. That’s the truth.” N stared at her, seemingly blankly, but with the faintest smile forming. Reshiram grinned. “And if anyone gives you too much flack I can always fry ‘em. “ At that point he laughed joyously. She chuckled. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go.“ He hopped on her back again. Reshiram paused for a second pondering if N's eyes were always that shade of blue before shaking her head and addressing him again. “N?” “Yes?” “Want to know another truth?” “Sure.” “You’re the best friend I've ever had.” And so onward they flew. ***

[wanderingaunt]

A Symbol of Courage, Trust, and Faith

How do you commemorate milestones or a profound transformation on your life journey? Do you write a letter to yourself reminding yourself of how far you’ve come? Do you buy a piece of jewelry or symbol to carry with you to remind you of someone you love who is no longer here?

I like to buy local jewelry or artwork when I’m traveling in places that leave an impression on me. It’s a small token I can carry with me to be reminded of the place and that time in my life. I use my photoshoots to document various seasons in life. Each photoshoot has its own vibe and essence that matches where I was at that point in my life.

Touchstones remind us of pivotal and meaningful times in life.

In 2016, after my Grandma died, I knew I wanted to have something with me that would remind me of her essence and allow me to carry her spirit with me wherever I went. I had thought about getting a tattoo in the past, and always knew it would have to be something meaningful for me to permanently wear it on my body. A year after she passed, I decided that a tattoo was the perfect way to symbolize my Grandma’s memory and carry her essence with me wherever I go. I found an amazing tattoo artist in North Dallas, Rodney Carrera. I chose to get an iris (her favorite flower) with the word ‘Wonder’ attached to it. My Grandma lived every day of her life with a childlike sense of wonder. And that’s exactly what I wanted to carry with me.

They say once you get your first tattoo it won’t be your last.

Six months after I got my first tattoo, I was ready to get my second one. It was at the end of 2017, and I had finally made the bold decision to quit my corporate job and follow my dream of traveling the world. This was a bold step for me, and one I was ready for. I had just completed my year of Action and was stepping into my year of Bold Freedom. I got a feather with birds flying off the tip of it tattooed on my rib cage to commemorate this new journey I was stepping into.

And as you can guess, six months after that I got my 3rd tattoo. I had recently started my nomadic journey with a oneway ticket to Australia followed by a oneway ticket to Thailand. I had heard of many people getting hand poke tattoos in Thailand so naturally had that on my radar. And no coincidence, the first person I met when I landed in Chiang Mai was a beautiful young woman named Eluaiyana, who happened to be a tattoo artist. Eluaiyana specializes in intricate hand poke tattoos. About a week after arriving in Thailand, I fell extremely ill. I had some sort of bacterial infection that kept me in bed for nearly 10 days. I had no choice but to surrender. It was the Universe’s way of telling me to heal from my past and trust what was to come. After I recovered, I contacted Eluaiyana to schedule my next tattoo appointment. I got a beautiful hand poke tattoo on my wrist that represents surrendering & being open to what comes into my life.

My symbols became a part of me and served as reminders for how far I had come.

At the end of 2018, I went on a challenging multi-day hike in Patagonia. This was the most challenging physically demanding journey I had ever been on. And even more than that it was mentally and spiritually trying. I learned to find courage in myself to take the hard steps forward and to trust that I was being led on the right path. I’ll never forget hiking in Patagonia and being awestruck by the most stunning view of a song boulder surrounded by bright, delicate flowers overlooking the most vibrant blue water I’d ever seen. I snapped the picture on my phone and imprinted it in my mind. I had no idea that boulder would hold such significance in my journey onward.

My trip in Patagonia reminded me that I am stronger and more capable than I give myself credit for.

When 2019 started, I was feeling extremely lost. I had returned from 8 months of soulo traveling all over the world. My savings was dwindling down, and I knew I’d be faced with either getting a job or starting something of my own. Starting a business is by far the most eye-opening, strip-me-down-to-the-core journey I’ve taken in my 35 years on this planet. It’s caused me to confront some of my greatest fears—being seen, asking, and trusting that the money will come. I’ve retreated into my cocoon more times than I can count and continued to put myself out there in belief that one day things will shift.

In May 2019, I took a big financial leap and made a commitment to be in a yearlong Retreat Leader Coaching Program with Darla LeDoux called the Beautifully Aligned Collective. I was not planning on signing up for this program. I certainly didn’t have the financial means to support an investment, and ever deeper than that—I didn’t believe that I was worth investing in myself. I was again was called to surrender my knowing and trust on a deeper level. I received a sign so clear that I could not ignore, and signed up for the program. This was a big deal for me, not only financially but also on a deeper soul level. I committed to a long-term time investment that I had always shied away from in the past. You’d think that someone who gets tattooed wouldn’t be afraid of commitment, but I was. I was afraid of being stuck or trapped. I surrendered to the Universe and trusted that God knows more than I do.

This past year has knocked me down and picked me up, caused me to rise up, open my heart to love, surrender, trust, take courage, and have faith that it is all working for my highest good.

When my coaching program was coming to an end, we were invited to choose a symbol to honor all of the expansion and growth that took place over the year. Some people chose crystals, pieces of art, and jewelry to commemorate this time. I immediately knew it was time for my next tattoo. Since shelter in place was still in order, I had to wait to get my symbol. In the interim, I went on a personal retreat in Colorado. While on that journey, I was greeted with the labyrinth I had laid rocks in the summer before. It was in that labyrinth in 2019 that I became present to signs from the Universe. I was going through a rather difficult time and knew I needed a challenge. From that a great mountain climb came to fruition and birthed my 30-day blog challenge.

So today, I captured my symbol on my inner right bicep. A symbol of mountains that reminds me of all the physical and spiritual mountains I’ve climbed, a boulder from my hike in Patagonia that reminds me there is beauty to be found no matter what the situation, an arrow from my Wandering Aunt logo that reminds me to keep aiming towards my goals, and a sunflower to remind me that I am a bright light in this world and to always keep shining.

I find myself a bit emotional each time I get a new tattoo. While they all mark memories and milestones in my life, they are packed with so much meaning and symbolism. To you, it may just be a cool looking tattoo. To me, it represents my life—every bruise, obstacle, curiosity, joy, courageous act, surrender, and trust I’ve experienced. It is forever a part of me etched deep withing my being reminding me of all that I am.

Thank you Rodney, for once again beautifully bringing my vision to life. If you find yourself in Dallas, and looking for an incredible tattoo artist, check out Anomaly Lifestyle Art.