#someday i will work up the courage to apply for more jobs again

[ihavethedreamies]

Stupid | Wooyoung

Jung Wooyoung - ATEEZ)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~10.3k

Pairing: Wooyoung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Caution: The angst in this story is more familial based. There are mentions of adultery/infidelity, but it's not dwelled on. This could be triggering for those who have had parent's leave or other similar circumstances, so just be warned.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Princess, Sweetheart, Sunshine, etc.), Childhood/Teenage Trauma, Family Issues, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Couch Sex, Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill)

Author's Note: Hm, just thought I would do this since I made something similar for San.

(S/N) is for the name of your sister.

Move Update: We are headed out next Monday for our new state (back to where I was born actually) and I'm gonna have to live at my uncles for a month before the new house is ready, so I will be writing a lot there, so get ready.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

The only sound you could hear was your own aggressive keypresses. You had paused your music to go to the bathroom and didn't bother hitting play again. Staring hard at the screen, your eyes hurt even with the dark theme applied. The colorful lines of code on the dark screen blurred and refocused, and you blinked, trying to force your eyes not to blur. Sighing, you pushed back from your desk, rubbing over your eyes. Taking your computer glasses off, you let them fall onto your desk and you got back up. It was really hard to work at 2 am, let alone when your thoughts were racing. And the thoughts had nothing to do with your job. The last thing you needed the day before a project was due was to loop on irrational thoughts. Your socked feet thumbed on the wood floor of your hallway as you went down it. Your sister's door was propped open, so you quietly opened the door, peeking inside. The soft teal lighting strip lining her walls cast a faint glow over the room. She was starfish-ed on the bed, peacefully and messily asleep. Huffing, you stepped out and shut your door. How nice it must be to be thirteen. Pulling your phone from the pocket of your sweatpants, you exited the hallway and went into the kitchen. The large open room of the apartment included the kitchen as well as dining and living areas. A spare room was in the back corner, empty since your friend had moved out a month before. Another room sat across from it, the large windows of the studio covered with tall curtains, but you knew it was just full of boxes of old things. Someday you would have the courage to go through them and get rid of stuff, maybe use the studio for an office or something, but…

Opening the fridge to get the pitcher of orange juice, the door shut, and your eyes focused on the dark on the picture magnetically attached to the front. The picture was of a once happy life you lived. A black squiggle covered the face of the man, the woman next to him smiling like the sun. Glaring at the censored face, you yanked the photograph from the magnet clip and slapped the picture down on the counter. The pitcher followed and as you grabbed a glass, you plucked the scissors from the small utensil-filled mug on the counter. After pouring yourself a drink, and taking a few sips, you grabbed the photo. Holding it up, you realized it would make sense to turn the overhead light of the range hood to see better, but you continued in the dark. Opening the shears, you cut a tiny slit into the white border of the photo and halted. The little line split the man's pants from the shoulder of the little girl's white sundress; she was no more than four. She was sitting on the lap of a girl looking much the same, just about twelve years older. It was weird to see such a bright smile on your face.

The purple-handed scissors clattered onto the Formica counter; the photo still held in the crook of the blades. Resting against the counter behind you, you drank the juice in gulps, hissing through your teeth when it was gone like it was some kind of liquor. The glass-mimicking plastic cup clanked into the sink, and you left the kitchen to shuffle back to your room. As you reentered, you yanked the zipper down of your hoodie, nearly tearing the garment off and throwing it harshly onto the floor. You let the door click quietly closed despite wanting to slam it and went back to your computer. Your chair let out a puff of air when you plopped down into it, the remaining pieces of the candy necklace you had on bouncing over your collarbone. Crunching on one of the sugary beads, you flipped your phone over, so the screen faced up, tapping the black surface and a small white notification bubble showed itself under the white numbers of the clock; 2:13 am. Unlocking the phone with your finger print, you opened your message app and you sniffed at the message in annoyance.

🦊WooWoo🦊: did you get it done?

He had sent it nearly an hour prior. You glared at your computer screen, then to the second monitor, the program running over and over, glitching at the same time stamp each time.

☀️: not even close 🦊: why are you up young lady ☀️: why are you?

He didn't reply right away so you looked back at your computer, clicking your tongue. Hitting save and closing the window, you instead opened up a new email and sent one to your coworker that it might not get there by tomorrow night but that you would try. It wasn't a hard deadline anyway. You worked for an Indie label, not some AAA, so that gave you some flexibility. Closing the window, you stared at your background for a good few minutes, waiting for Wooyoung to reply. The picture used to make you smile, but it hurt your heart. San's cute dimple smile, and his arm around you made you wince. Wooyoung was on your other side, his cheek pressed into the side of your head as he hugged you. You were leaning into San, trying to escape the other man's embrace, at least that was your excuse. The picture was getting close to five years old.

🦊: games 🦊: why are you up ☀️: working. thinking 🦊: about? ☀️: how shit I feel 🦊: you sick??

You rolled your eyes; he wasn't super intuitive sometimes. It was almost 2:30 in the morning though.

☀️: no. how shitty my life is now compared to back then…

Once again, he took a bit to reply, and you almost got up to use the restroom then go to bed. Your phone then buzzed on the desk, the noise even louder going through the wood, and you grabbed it quickly, answering the call.

"Your life isn't shitty (Y/N). I'm here, huh?" His giggle was forced. You just huffed, getting out of your desk chair to move to your bed.

"Livin' the dream."

"What's it this time? Your…da- uh, male life giver?" His little catch at least made the corner of your mouth crook up.

"Yeah."

"How's (S/N)?"

"Good, I guess. She…she was a bit too really remember either of them."

"Even if she doesn't it can't be easy with…how it all played out." He was trying to be careful with what he said, but you were already in a bad mood.

"Our dad cheating, leaving us for his second family and then my mother…" You thought tears who come to your eyes, but maybe you were too tired.

"Where do you think she went?" Your best friend's voice was soft.

"No clue. Neither did Gramma, or the cops. She could be in Timbuk-fucking-tu for all I know."

"Do you want to go out tomorrow with me and San? Or do you have to work?" Before you could answer, your phone buzzed, and you pulled it away from your ear. Opening the email from your coworker, you sighed in relief. Perfect timing.

"Not anymore. The character models are getting scrapped and redone so that means my code has to be scrapped. Might be why I couldn’t get it to move right."

"What about (S/N)?"

"She's thirteen not three. I'll have her sleep over at a friend's maybe…"

"Great! Get some sleep, sunshine. Meet us at 9!" He hung up and you flopped back onto your mattress, feeling disappointed for some reason. Finally working up the energy to get off the bed, you went back to your computer and shut it down, staring at San's smiling face a little too long, before letting it actually turn off.

~*~*~

"Good morning, little lady." You left the hallway, sandals in your hand. Your sister sent you a tired look over her cereal, waving lazily.

"G'mornin'."

"Do any of your friends get to have sleep overs on school nights?" Her eyes opened a bit wider then, then squinted as she thought.

"Uh…probably. Going out with-" she gave a flirty pose, batting her eyelashes, "Sannie?" then dropped the act.

"Shut up, you little shit." You threw a stray cheerio at her, and it nearly stuck to her cheek.

"Wooyoung's going too."

"Oh. You ever gonna tell him?"

"Tell San I like him? I don’t know..."

"San? Oh, yeah, right. Why not?" You didn't answer right away, pouring a glass of juice.

"You're gonna turn into an orange." Your sister rolled her eyes, and you poured just a bit more before putting the pitcher back down.

"I just... I don't think I stand a chance."

"What?! Why?!" Your sister acted like you had personally offended her. Even before your whole messed up parental situation, you two never bickered or anything. Probably because you were nearly thirteen years older than her.

"I'm not his type. He probably sees me as a sister. Also, he looks like that," you motioned down at your white tank with a think blue plaid shirt over and worn denim capris, "and I'm…"

"You better compliment yourself." Your sister glared at you, making you sigh.

"He likes the girls in skirts with makeup and their nails done. The ones that giggle at everything he says and touch his bicep ‘accidentally’…" You drifted off, getting mad at the mental pictures.

"Then do all that." (S/N) shrugged, getting up to put her cereal bowl in the sink.

"Counter." You corrected and she rolled her eyes, taking the bowl out and moving it to the counter.

"(S/N), I don't even own a tube of mascara." You sighed, then proceeded to down your orange juice once again like it was a stiff drink. Your throat burned and your stomach stung somewhat…maybe you did drink too much.

"Use mine."

"What?" You turned fast to look at her and her eyes were wide in panic.

"I only have mascara, I promise!" She lifted her hands in surrender, and you breathed out your nose. She was only a year off being allowed make up, you at least wanted to maintain the rules your mother put on you with your sister. Even if a lot of them never had to be enacted on you.

"Look, I'm just going to go hang out with them and pretend one of my best friends isn't sex on legs."

"I'm pretty sure they both are, but okay." (S/N) muttered under her breath as she passed you to go get her backpack and you pretended to not hear her.

~~~

"Bye, sis!" (S/N) got out of your car and headed into her middle school. She was the one of the few who didn't mind being seen dropped off right in front of the school, but laid-back older sisters are much, much cooler than any parent.

"Just text me who you can stay with!" You called to her, and she turned around with a shocked face.

"Right! What about my bag? My locker's not big enough!" She realized, coming back to your rolled down window, leaning into it.

"I'll bring it by after your club meeting is done."

"Really!? Can you bring WooSan?"

"Don't call them that!" You scolded but laughed nonetheless, "Sure."

"Bye, sis!" She took off again, meeting her similarly uniformed friends by the entrance. You were blessed that the school was willing to take her in for free more-or-less on a scholarship. Your mother wanted both of you to go to the same school, but it was private, and you were in no way capable of paying. If you were, you wouldn't be driving a wine red 2002 Hyundai Sonata with suede upholstery. Pulling out of the drop-off line, you continued down the road till you met the traffic light. It sat at the edge of the academy's campus and the park where you were meeting the guys was just past the light. As you waited for the light to turn, you tapped your fingers on the steering wheel along to the music playing on your radio. The light took even longer because the crossing guard was leading a group of elementary schoolers across. You were watching them pass in their cute little uniforms when you were startled by a knock on your window. You flinched, looking to see what looked to be a high school boy on the other side. You rolled the slightly tinted glass down just enough that you would be able to hear him. He flashed a smoldering smile, and you blatantly sneered.

"What, kid?"

"You obviously don't go to school here, you from the public school?" How dumb was this kid? You hadn't been in high school for seven years. You had a college degree and everything. Most might take it as a compliment to be seen as looking young enough to be a teenager, but…

"Get lost, squirt." You scoffed, looking away but not bothering to roll the window back up. You were a bit curious what his reaction would be.

"I might look young, but I'm a senior this year, princess." He was clearly a little put off by your flat dismissal, trying to keep a flirty tone.

"Fuck off, kid. She's our princess." A familiar voice hit your ears, and you sighed in relief, watching Wooyoung essentially hip bump the kid so hard he fell back onto the sidewalk. Your heart skipped as you huffed a laugh, watching San come up as well and unlocked the doors so the two guys could climb in, right at the light turned green. San barely shut the back door before you took off, leaving the teenager's friends laughing at his sorry state. Crossing the median, you pulled into the parking lot of the park and slumped back into your seat.

"Got your favorite." San leaned forward, toned arm hovering over the center console, holding a plastic bag with one finger.

"Sweet!" You swiped it from him and Wooyoung got out, running around to your side where the window was still rolled down.

"Hey, pretty lady, want to go make out behind the bleachers?" He leaned against the side of your car just like the cocky teen had and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"Uh, no." You wondered if he caught you glance in your rearview mirror to watch San get out of your car, holding the drink holder of ice coffees as well. You couldn't meet his gaze though, and surprisingly, he didn't respond, just stood up and started to follow San down the path.

"Hey, wait up!" You got out quickly, nearly forgetting your phone and to lock the car as you dashed after them. Finally getting half-way around the pond that was trying to be a lake, you sat on a picnic bench of the wooden shelter right on the edge of the water. Some ducks quacked as they lazily swam closer, hoping for a snack. As you took a long sip of your ice coffee, you watched San get up and go closer to the ducks, a little bit of his croissant left. Your eyes couldn't help but travel over the wide expanse of his shoulders and back. His arms were on display since he was in a sleeveless hoodie, and you smiled at his as the ducks happily ate the bread.

"That's bad for them, y'know?" Wooyoung called and the other man tossed him a bored look over his shoulder, then went back to the birds. Because you were too busy eyeing over your friend, you didn't notice Wooyoung watching you. He lifted half of his nose in a sneer, glaring at his friend who was taking up all of your attention. Wooyoung wanted to blame it on that San had started working out since you had all started being friends, but he wasn’t sure that was it.

"Just fucking tell him." He whispered harshly to you and his sudden mutter made you choke. San immediately turned around, and you waved him off, but he still went to your side, patting your back some to help.

"You okay?" He kneeled next to you, and you nodded, flashing a small smile, trying not to get red. Not like you could control it. Just then, something green flew through the air, flying past San's head as he stood, and he was toppled over by a mass of blonde fur.

"Jeremy! Get off of him!" A young woman scolded the golden retriever as it refused to get off of San, sniffing him and licking his face. Why am I jealous of a dog? You sighed, slumping back against the wood railing of the shelter.

"Why don't you tell him?" Wooyoung's next whisper was much softer, he sounded very tired.

"And get rejected? Ruin our friendship? No." You whispered back, still watching the cutest thing you've ever seen. The dog was a fat mood, refusing to get off of San.

"I'm so sorry!" The woman finally managed to pull the dog off of the man and he got up laughing. She immediately blushed, finally able to see San past all of the fluff. Looking away and down the path to where the green flying disk still lay you got up to retrieve it, since the dog had failed its job.

"Here." You forced a smile as you handed it back to her and she snapped out of her daze to take it from you, immediately looking back to San. Luckily, she left not too long after and you were able to continue the day with the two guys.

~*~*~

A week passed, and you still hadn't been able to work because the rest of the team couldn't get their act together and finish their parts. So, you had been left to your thoughts which is never good. You sat on the couch, boredly and only partially watching the TV. Your knees were pulled up to your chest and your hands lazily tapped a rhythm on the worn faux leather of the couch. Tilting your head, it rested on the back of the couch, and you stared at the ceiling of your loft apartment, the large ventilation pipes curving around the support columns high above your head. When the doorbell rang you almost didn't recognize it, thinking it might have been on the show. It happened again and you knew it was yours because the TV now displayed a commercial for some kind of sports drink. Getting up with a groan, you trudged over to the door, socked feet shuffling over the wood floor. When you opened the door, a young woman sat on the other side, and her face made you nervous. She looked…

"Hi. Are you (Y/N)?" She smiled gently and you nodded.

"I'm Jena (L/N). Can…can I come in?" When she said her last name, your heart fell. You knew immediately who she was.

"Sure." Your tone was flat, but since she didn't know you, it seemed she didn't notice. You motioned her in and toward the couch and you glanced around your place. It wasn't messy, but it wasn't nice either. She was in a sundress that was at least $300, and she had a giant rock on her finger. You grimaced as she sat on your very well-worn couch and you sat down as well, facing her by sitting sideways. She put her designer bag down, linking her fingers and resting her hands on her knee, legs crossed.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but…I'm assuming you know Daniel (L/N)?" You never wanted to hear that name again.

"Uh, yeah." You shuffled on the couch, the faux leather creaking under you.

"I'm his daughter. I have to admit I was a little…stalky?" She cringed at herself, smiling sheepishly.

"Dad is…well, he doesn't have much longer." When you didn't really react, she continued. On the inside, you just weren't sure how to react.

"They don't know if he drank too much when he was younger or what, but his liver is failing. He's been on a transplant list, but they can't find anyone compatible." She’d better not have come to get you to give him half of your fucking liver-

"Anyway, I was looking over his will-"

"Where's your mom?"

"Huh?"

"How…what about your mom?"

"Oh, uh." She looked down, a sad expression covering her face.

"When he got sick, she left him, so I'm in charge of everything." Rolling your eyes, you huffed, looking toward the kitchen, focusing on the picture on the fridge you meant to cut up.

"Uh. Right, your name is on the will." She pulled a packet of paper from her purse, showing you where your name was highlighted. You didn't even care what he was leaving you, so you handed it back.

"I don't want it."

"O-oh…if you don't mind me asking, who are you?" You raised an eyebrow, and she wilted under your glare.

"You don't know?"

"No, sorry." She hid bashfully behind the papers, "are we cousins or something?" You just stared at her in shock.

"No offense, but it’s a bit weird to have a niece in your will when you have four kids?"

"Look, if you want my part, have it."

"No! That's not… Actually, the reason I'm really here is-" She pulled something else out of her bag and you recognized it.

"Dad kept saying the name Naomi." You stood up at this and she flinched. You paced a bit, hands going to your head, fingers digging into your scalp. Breathing out slowly, you turn back to her.

"Sorry…keep going, I'm just…struggling with this." She seemed a bit unwilling to continue without asking anything, but she did so as you sat back down. Your ire was evident, you were sure.

"Um…well, I couldn't figure out who she was, so I looked in his yearbook. He's…" She flipped to the middle of the book, "with a girl named Naomi." She showed you the page, but you already knew it. High School Sweethearts read in flowery script over the picture of your parents.

"But when I looked her up, I couldn't find anything." Of course not. You never could.

"So, I used Google's new AI search with this picture, and I found a woman…" You hadn’t gone that far, still not really trusting any kind of program claiming to be AI. She pulled out another paper from her bag and showed it to you. It was an article about some town's mayor on the other side of the country, and the caption listed the woman next to him as his wife. It was your mother. But her name was wrong.

"It says her name is Carry, but that looks like the same woman, right?"

"Y-Yes."

"Maybe they’re sisters? Twins even? I know it’s a long shot, but do you have her contact information? Even if they broke up soon after high school, maybe she would be willing to see him since he's dying…" As soon as you saw her face on the paper, your anger left, and you were holding back tears.

"I don't…but-" you took a shuddering breath, "uh, I don't think she'll go see him."

"Really?" She deflated a bit, and you looked down at your lap, picking at your torn jeans.

"Uh. No. She's… Okay, I'm in the will because I'm your sister. Those are my parents. She’s my mother." This information floored her, her jaw literally dropping. Sniffing hard, you hated crying, let alone in front of essentially a stranger.

"How old are you?" Your question snapped her back, making her flinch.

"T-twenty." Of course.

"Dad…He uh, left us and mom for…you guys. Then mom fucking snapped or broke or whatever and left us too." You looked at the printed off article, at your mother's smiling face next to some man you had never seen or heard of before. This shocked her even further. You gave her the article back and stood moving to the door.

"Uh, take me out of the will or whatever and just leave us alone please. Thank you." You opened your front door, not able to look at her.

"U-us?"

"Ah. (S/N). My thirteen-year-old sister." This must have really made this Jena girl realize why you acted the way you did. It wasn't that your father left your mother then fathered her, he had both families at the same time.

"M-my brother is twelve." Reality was hitting her.

"Great. That sucks for everyone, please leave." You motioned with your arm for her to get out and as soon as she shuffled out into the hallway, you let the door fall closed. Your shoulder hit the wall, and you slumped to the floor, hot tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor. Your chest heaved as you sobbed, hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Fuck!" You screamed, grabbing a cheap ceramic bowl you used for change and chucked it across the room. It hit the column behind your TV and shattered, coins clattering onto the floor in its trail. You buried your face in your hands, breathing harshly, trying to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. It buzzed again a few minutes later, then again. Again.

"Damnit." You got up, storming over to your phone, looking at it. It was the group chat, Wooyoung and San were talking about doing something the next day, some kind of lawn game competition at the community college. When they saw that you read the messages and didn't reply, your phone rang with a call from Wooyoung.

"I know that we're not in college anymore, but we can get away-" You had stopped crying more or less, but hearing his voice brought tears back to your eyes and you fought a sob.

"Are you crying? What happened?"

"U-um…" You swallowed hard, a lump rising in your throat along with the tears.

"I'll be there in five…six minutes!" He hung up and you let the device fall onto the couch. Your shoulders fell as you stood in the middle of the main room of your place, glaring at the coffee table's scratched surface. A tear fell onto the plywood, then another. Snapping out of your daze when hard knocks pounded on the door, you only got halfway to the door before he opened it, finding it unlocked.

"(Y/N)?" Seeing the concerned face of your best friend made you feel safe and so your self-erected walls fell. He shut the door as he moved forward, catching you in his arms as you shriveled to the floor. Wooyoung held you tighter as you cried, desperate sobs and whimpers muffled as you pressed your face into his chest. Your tears darkened the red fabric of his sweatshirt, and he adjusted your position, so you sat on the floor, legs over one of his, cheek pressed to his collarbone. A tear of his own fell and mixed with yours on your jaw, but you didn't notice it. He didn't know what happened that wrecked you so bad, but he couldn't stand hearing and seeing you so upset. He even hated it if you cried at a movie.

"What happened, sunshine?" His embrace loosened so you could sit up straighter, tears still falling, but you weren't actively sobbing. Wooyoung cupped your cheek in his hand, wiping a tear from your eye. You had to take several deep breaths through the story, but you managed to tell him what happened.

"M-my mother's alive, Wooyoung." Your voice had quieted so much at the end that, but he still heard the pain.

"(Y/N), sweetheart, come here." He stood, helping you get up and he led you over to the couch. He grabbed your phone, and you rested back on the couch as he easily put in your pin without having to ask what it was. You listened half-heartedly as he called your sister, most likely just getting out of class, about to go to her art club meeting.

"Again? Is this going to be weekly? I think I can stay with Amanda, maybe Emily…" You heard (S/N) sigh, "what about my stuff?"

"Can't you manage with borrowing?" Wooyoung cast you a glance, your forearm over your eyes.

"I guess. What’s wrong with (Y/N)?"

"She's just really struggling with something."

“What?”

“Adult stuff.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, uh-huh.”

“She’ll tell you when she’s ready, little lady.”

"You better take good care of her Mr. Jung."

"I will Miss (L/N)." He hung up and put your phone back down. You felt the couch shift when he stood up, then felt his body heat as he kneeled on the floor next to you. Wooyoung gently removed your arm from your face, and you turned to look at him.

"Oh, sweetheart." He sighed, hand going to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the red skin of your cheek, brushing away a stray tear.

"C-can you call San? And we can watch a movie? Get Indian food?" You weren't sure how to read Wooyoung's expression. He seemed to be thinking, but then he forced a smile and nodded.

"Sure, princess." Wooyoung stood and pressed a long kiss to your forehead, and you blamed your turbulent emotions on your racing heart.

~*~*~

About two weeks later, you found yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the number you plugged into your phone. You hadn't pressed call yet, the non-local area code of the number glaring at you. It was a long shot, but you hoped calling the mayor's office might get you somewhere. You had been stalling for a long time, his office would only be open for another hour thanks to the time difference. Your sister was getting annoyed with you having her stay the night at a friend’s place, but luckily, she had a slumber party she was invited to. The sun was starting to set, and you finally worked up the courage to hit call, then turned it onto speaker, at 5:57. It was probably around 3 there.

"Mayor Elledge's office, this is Peg."

"Hi, uh, Peg. I'm…I'm trying to get in contact with Carry Elledge, but I'm not sure how to get ahold of her…" The silence scared you, worried that the woman would be too suspicious to help you.

"May I ask who you are?"

"I'm…a relative. It's about…my father's will." Please work.

"I see…I can get you her cellphone number." The secretary relented and you sighed in relief, thanking her several times. Typing the number she gave you into your notes app, you politely end the conversation and went to call the other number while you still had the courage to do so. Ring. Ring. Ring-

"Hello, this is Carry?" It was your mom, no doubt. Tears welled in your eyes, and you swallowed, voice coming out softer than normal to keep from crying.

"M-mom? It's me. It's (Y/N)." More silence.

"I think you might have the wrong number, dear." You felt your face fall, your eyebrows furrowing, your lips trembling.

"This isn't Naomi (L/N)?"

"No, dear, sorry." There wasn't any kind of recognition in her voice, but it was hers.

"O-oh…okay, sorry." The call ended and you pressed your lips hard together, jaw clenched. What the hell happened? You sat trying to wrap your head around everything, about thirty minutes passed and your phone rang. It was a different number, but it was the same area code as the other two.

"H-hello?"

"Are you the young woman looking for Naomi (L/N)?" A man spoke, and you wondered if it wasn't the mayor guy.

"Yessir."

"You must be (Y/N)."

"What the hell happened to my mother?" Your tone didn't have nearly as much malice as you had wanted. Even if this guy did nothing wrong, you hated him. He sighed. He explained that he found her near death in an alleyway. She had malnutrition and was dehydrated. He got her to the hospital, she was in a medically induced coma for a few days, and when she woke up…she didn't remember anything.

"So, she has no idea about her past life?"

"No, miss."

"Thank you for…not letting her die."

"I'm sorry to not be of more help Miss (Y/N). Though, I don't think it’s good for her to be reminded of her past life. I called because she is…having a panic attack. Maybe it was your voice, some part of her recognized it maybe? It’s clear she is traumatized from her past. I think it would be best if you leave her be." You didn't want to. You wanted to get in your car, grab your sister, and drive for the three of four days you needed, and get your mother. But…she wasn't your mother anymore, even if she did remember you, it was clear her brain was hiding you and your sister.

"I…Okay. If you want to know, Daniel (L/N) is dying."

"Good."

"Yes."

"I appreciate you wanting to reach out, but I would like you to lose our numbers.

"Yessir." He hung up. Your body must have run out of tears along with your energy because you just slumped back into the couch. Something rose in you then, something bold. Grabbing your bag, phone and keys, you left your place, heading for Wooyoung and San’s.

~~~

As you rode the elevator to the third floor, you were shaking. Whether it was nerves or pure exhaustion you weren't sure. Going down the hall, you heard voices further down and you finally saw the owners as you turned the corner. San was standing at his apartment door, some bleach blonde girl wedged between him and the door. You weren’t sure how to feel, your emotions were too turbulent. Somehow it felt like your heart finally completely shattered, but you also were relieved, but the latter made you mad. You turned and fled before you could see his lips actually meet hers.

~~~

"(Y/N)?" You heard your name through the door, then Wooyoung's rapid knocks. You were slumped against the island counter, hands stinging and bleeding, shards of glass and ceramic scattered around the room. Tissue paper and packing peanuts were strewn about the main room of the apartment as well, old papers and books torn and discarded. Splinters of wood from broken frames and dismembered toys littered the floor as well, and you ran your thumb over a glass paper weight shaped like a cat.

"(Y/N)?!" Wooyoung jiggled the door handle harder, but it was locked. A red smear followed your thumb on the glass cat, the cuts on your palms still oozing blood.

"Damnit, (Y/N) (L/N)! Open the fucking door, I know you're in there." He was panicking, you could hear it in his voice.

"Fuck off." You sighed, throwing the glass piece as hard as you could, and it hit the far wall. The ear chipped off and broke, the finish over the brick wall flaked off, then it clattered to the floor.

"(Y/N), please princess, let me in." You heard a thump, presumably his forehead hitting the door. You licked your lips, the salt of your tears hitting along with the iron tang of blood. You weren't sure if it was from where you had bitten your lip or the cut on the tip of your nose.

"(Y/N). Please, I need to see you, sweet girl. Please let me know if you're okay." You didn't know what time it was, just that it was late, only the light of the storage room flowing into the room from the door. Your phone had been going off, and you hated the message you saw on it, so you chucked it across the room as well, breaking it instantly. The place was a mess, and you were grateful your sister wasn't home to see your breakdown.

"Go away, Wooyoung." Your voice was hoarse after your crying, but the door was thin, and you knew he heard.

"Not a fucking chance, (Y/N)."

"Just…just let me be alone."

"No! Open the door, damn it!"

"Go home."

"Shit. (Y/N) open the freaking door or I'm coming up the fire escape!" You knew he meant it. You got up, not bothering to be careful of what you stepped on, only wincing slightly as a speck of glass wedged in your foot, joining other scrapes and cuts already present. Shakily, you undid the door chain, and he must have heard you turn the deadbolt and the lock on the knob, because he opened the door before you could. He gasped, looking at your face, pale but red from smeared blood of the small cuts on your face. He looked at your hands too, and the bloody footprints on the floor.

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Wooyoung shut the door, dropping his backpack and cupping your face with his hands. They were cold from being out in the early autumn night and you didn't even react when he did so. Wooyoung lifted your head so you could look at him and his brow furrowed in despair at the blank look in your eyes. Finally, he looked around the room in the low light, shocked at the carnage.

"I called her." You managed to get out and he looked back at you, confused.

"Mom. I looked up the mayor guy's office number and called. She didn't… She didn't know who I was. Her husband called and told me she had some kind of amnesia after he found her. Then he told me never to try again. So, I…" you licked your lips, "then I…I decided and went to your place. San was taking some blonde bitch into the apartment." Your breath shuddered and his shoulders slumped.

"(Y/N)-"

"I…I went to the store, but they were out of Cayman Jacks. The Indian place down the street closed early. The pizza place was out of white sauce… I grabbed some random food from the convenience store and then when I got home… I got a text from that Jena girl, my half-sister," you spat, "dad's dead."

"(Y/N), sunshine, you must… What can I do?" He stepped closer, one hand leaving your face to grab your hand. You flinched at the sting, and he held your hand up to see the cuts in the skin. It looked like you had a few splinters as well.

"Help me clean this mess?"

"I’ll just do it, lets get you cleaned up first."

He picked a few splinters out of your hands and feet, then sent you off to shower. Wooyoung vowed to work on the mess more later, maybe even get Seonghwa to help, but he dealt with the dangerous stuff first. He had shoved and/or swept all the debris into a big pile in the ravaged storage room, leaving the mess for another time. After carefully picking up all the sharp shards and splintered wood, he vacuumed to make sure everything was picked up. He glanced up when you shuffled out of the hallway, a towel draped over your wet hair, a soft light-weight grey sweater draped over your torso, and a darker gray pair of shorts nearly hidden by the shirt. Your head was bowed, hands and feet red and he shuffled over to lead you to the couch.

"Did you use soap?"

"Mm. Conditioner stung." You sat, and he pulled your hands into his lap so he could look them over.

"I'll help you with these." He let your hands go and then his own went to the towel on your head, gently rubbing it over your hair, then scrunching the strands with the fabric to get more of the water out. Gently he laid it around your neck and shoulders to the still damp strands didn't drip on your shirt. When Wooyoung returned with your first aid box from the bathroom, you were still sitting in the same spot, staring blankly at a spot on the couch. Sighing, he went back to you and neither of you said anything as he smeared ointment on the cuts. He went ahead and just wrapped some bandages around your right hand since it was so cut up, but put band aids on the other. Wooyoung did the same with your feet, and you didn't even flinch even though you were usually ticklish there. As he finished some other little tidying things, you ran your finger over the chipped nails of your opposite hand, the polish flaking and cracked as well even though (S/N) only painted them two days prior.

"(Y/N), look at me." He prompted and when you didn't, he gently lifted your head with his finger under your chin.

"I'm so sorry, princess, that your…about your mom. And your father. But with San-"

"It was a stupid thought. I don't know why I got the courage to go." You tried to look away, but he forced you back to look at him, thumbs stroking your cleaned face. The little cuts had already pretty much closed, and he leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on the scratch on the tip of your nose.

"It's not stupid, (Y/N). Neither are you, he is." You huffed a wry laugh, but he shook his head.

"No, he is. He's a fucking idiot. You wanna know why?"

"Yeah, why?" You pulled both of your legs up under you, leaning with your side into the back of couch, head resting on the back cushion.

"Any many who wouldn't fall in love with you after knowing you is an idiot. I think I'm the only smart person there is." Wooyoung shook his head, throwing the band-aid wrappers onto the coffee table. It took your tired brain a bit to process what he said, but you still barely had the energy to snap your head up to look at him.

"What?"

"You've looked at him like he hung the moon for like two years but you’re still like a sister to him or something. Fucking stupid."

"You love me?"

"Yes! And you're an idiot for not noticing. That's why I'm the only smart one." He stood up to actually throw the wrappers away, using the task to flee since he was flushed from his confession. He stood looking down into the nearly full trash for a few seconds, trying to think of what to do next. Before he could turn back to you, he felt your arms wrap around his middle from behind, your cheek pressing to his back. He wasn't very tall, one of the shortest in your friend group, but you were small compared to him. Normally your hugs had a great deal of strength in them, like you did as a whole, but while they were around him, they were shaky.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot, Wooyoung." Your voice was quiet, he felt it vibrate through him more than actually hearing it with his ears. He sighed.

"Its…its fine. You can't help how you feel any more than I can." He laid his hand over your arm, gently prying you off of him, but pulling you back into him once he turned around. Resting back against the island, you went with him, letting him hold you close. His fingers ran through the drying strands of your hair, and you shuffled even closer when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I…My brain is too frazzled to give you a response right now, Woo. I…I want to tell you-“

"It’s fine, (Y/N). I wasn't expecting anything back…"

"No, its…I can't put my emotions together right now, but I might like you back, but it could just be my subconscious looking for comfort."

"Can I help? We can talk it out? What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want…?"

"Anything." You pulled back to look at him, looking over his face. He was so freaking pretty, his longer black hair was pulled half-up, a few strands framing his face. The ends of the little strands brushed over the beauty mark under his eye and your eyes flitted to the small one he had on his lip. You bet most people didn't even know it was there. Bringing your left hand up, your sleeve fell so it was no longer hanging by your fingers, and your index finger ran over the small dot. You flinched when he quickly grabbed your wrist, a little tighter than it maybe should have been. He realized this and loosened, sliding his thumb up to your palm.

"(Y/N). Be careful, sweetheart." With his grip on your wrist, he pulled you closer.

"Anytime you're close to me I want to hold. I want to kiss you. I want to pin you to the nearest surface and…" He licked his lips, brow furrowing, "Don't let me do something you'll regret because you are weak now." You grimaced, looking down, stepping back from him.

"D-don't…" Your breath shuddered and he could tell you were starting to cry again.

"Hey, hey." He pulled you back in for a hug, "I will hold you as long as you want. I can lie on the couch, and you can lie on me. We can sleep there. We'll watch that movie you like so much that your sister hates…" You sniffed, nodding and he kissed the crown of your head before you pulled back, and he led you to the couch. Not even ten minutes later he was stretched across the old couch, you nestled half on top of him, half between him and the back, the intro of The Last Unicorn playing on the TV. You normally didn't use a blanket on the couch, not unless you were upset, so it was tucked under your chin.

"How did you know to come?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you come here?"

"Oh. (S/N) was freaking out because you weren't answering any texts or video calls, and your phone was going straight to voicemail. I texted her that you broke your phone and that she didn't need to come home." Like it felt left out, his phone buzzed, and he shifted to grab it from the coffee table. You sneakily glanced and saw that it was from San.

🐯: where you at??

He just put the phone down, but it buzzed not even a minute later.

🐯: is (Y/N) ok, or do I need to send Becca home and come over?

"You better not fucking come here." Wooyoung huffed quietly, managing to use one hand and reply.

🦊: She's fine now. Leave us alone.

"That's harsh."

"He broke your heart; I should be much worse." He clicked his tongue, picking his phone up when it buzzed again on his stomach.

🐯: wtf you good? Are you mad?

"Yeah, I'm fucking pissed."

"He's calling." You mumbled, looking at his screen while he looked at the TV, trying to think of what to say. He angrily slid at the answer button, having to do it a second time for it to work.

"What?!" He nearly shouted into the phone, his even louder than normal voice sharp in your ear.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Wooyoung brushed over your hair, "What?"

"Woah, dude, are you sure you're okay?"

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"Woo." You scolded, and that seemed to make him even madder.

"Is she okay?!" San must’ve not heard.

"Yes, you stupid- She's fine. What do you want?"

"Can I talk to her?"

"No, you can't."

"What? Why?"

"Just go…hang out or in Becca or whatever-" You smacked his chest and he yiped.

"Did you make her upset; did you guys get into a fight?"

"No-"

"I'm coming over-"

"Damnit, no!"

"I don't see why you fucking care, Choi San." Something snapped in you, your last vestiges of rationale fizzled out. Wooyoung choked around a laugh, quickly putting the call on speaker.

"(Y-Y/N)?" He sounded like a whimpering puppy.

"Why are you trying to stick up for me or defend me?"

"Y-you're…you're like my sister-" Your fingers dug into Wooyoung's shirt so hard you scratched the skin underneath some, and you sat up, grabbing the phone.

"You know why I wasn't okay? Huh? I found out my mom's alive but doesn't remember me or my sister. My dad is dead. I couldn't get my favorite butter chicken, and the guy I like is at his place sucking face with some chick who looks like she can't do basic addition. So, fuck off San." You hung up and slid Wooyoung's phone away, so it landed on the coffee table, sliding just a bit further past where it landed. Huffing, you laid back down onto your other friend and continued to watch the movie. You both tried to focus, but after a few minutes, you both burst into laughter, and it was a good five minutes before you could fully calm down.

"I'm so fucking tired." You rested your hand over your eyes, wedged between Wooyoung and the couch and he turned toward you, blocking your view of the TV.

"Do you feel better though?" He brushed your hair off your face, and you nodded, nestling into the crook of his neck.

"Just sleep, sweetheart." Wooyoung pressed another kiss to your forehead, and you couldn't help but listen.

~~~

You woke up sore, not sure if it was from sleeping on your shitty couch or from the destruction you wrecked on your apartment the night before. Wooyoung was still asleep, curled around you, and still so, so pretty. You assumed he thought that if you waited, you would realize you were just wanting Wooyoung for comfort, not because you liked him back. But, after sleeping on it, you weren't so sure. Before, you really didn't know if you liked him back or not, but as you watched him sleep (feeling a bit creepy honestly) you thought about it. When you first became friends, you had a pretty big crush on him. The closer you got, the more it seemed he got on your nerves, and he was just annoying and immature. But after graduating, you got much closer; he really was your best friend. You were genuinely closer with Wooyoung than San, but you almost always hung out as the three of you. Could you have liked both, but chose San because you didn't want to admit you had liked Wooyoung the entire time you knew him? Did he annoy you so much because you had feelings for him, like some elementary age boy who pulls a girl's hair? And says he hates her? Gently, so as not to wake him, you cupped his jaw with your hands much like had the day prior to you.

"Be careful, sweetheart." He echoed the same words from the day before, not even opening his eyes.

"Why?" His eyes finally opened, the intensity in his gaze taking your breath away. Wooyoung scooted an inch closer, pressing you further into the cushion, his knee wedging between your legs. You gasped when he pressed closer, finally feeling him against you.

"If you let me kiss you, I won't stop there." His lips hovered over yours, tongue flicking out and running over your bottom lip as well as his.

"Then don't."

"(Y/N)-"

"I'm sure, Wooyoung. I thought about it, and yes, I have…had a crush on San. But that's what it is, like a school crush. You were right that I was stupid. I don't love you because you're my best friend, you're my best friend because I love you. I’m in love with you." Normally such flowery words would make you cringe, but yours were genuine. He breathed out hard with his nose, brow furrowing, eyes flitting away from yours, down to your lips.

"That was part of the reason I was so upset last night. Yes, I felt heartbroken from seeing San with that girl, but I also felt horrible, because I wasn't nearly as upset as I thought I would be. I was just glad it wasn't you with some bleach blonde bitch. After I found out about my mother…I was really glad it was you that came over and not San." Wooyoung couldn't hold a giggle back, trying to keep his face serious, but he couldn't.

"And I'm glad my sister called you, that you came." You smiled purely, but his turned to a smirk, the arm not under your head curling around you. You gasped when he slid the last little bit closer, hitching your leg over his hip and grinding his hardening cock into you.

"You have ten second to tell me to get off, otherwise I'm fucking you stupid on this couch." You whimpered at his words, hands leaving his face and resting on his shoulders. You bucked your hips, causing him to let out a soft grunt.

"Stupid, huh?" You smirked back and you squeaked when he rolled on top of you, soft lips capturing your chapped ones. The kiss wasn't gentle, his tongue quickly invading your mouth, tasting every inch of your tongue, his strong thigh hitching hard against your mound. Sneaky hands snuck under the waist band of your shorts, fingers pressing hard into the flesh of your ass, pulling up against him, feeling the outline of his dick against your tummy. Wooyoung pulled back from the kiss, letting you catch your breath, a trail of saliva dripping down your chin. He kneeled over you, pulling his shirt off and chucking it across the room. You whimpered, your own sneaky hands stroking over the skin of his chest and abs, when had he been that built?

"Up." He ordered, and you sat up just enough for him to pull your shirt off, along with your sports bra underneath.

"Fuck!" You twitched as those sinful lips wrapped around your nipple, teeth nibbling the peak before moving to the next, then up. Finally, his trail of kisses stopped at your throat, and he sucked your skin between his teeth there. It was too high to hide, and he worked the skin nearly raw, leaving a large purple welt on your jaw.

"Ah!" You jerked under him when his hand dove under your shorts and panties, two fingers swiping through the slick of your folds.

"You’re already this wet for me, sweetheart?" Wooyoung chuckled in your ear, those two fingers not hesitating to plunge into you. The sudden intrusion took your breath away, the slight burn left your head swimming. He only pumped the digits maybe twice before retracting his hand, and instead shoving his fingers in his own mouth.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned, climbing off of you, then shoving you up the rest of the way on the couch, landing on it with his stomach. Your shorts and panties flew through the air, joining the rest of your clothes and he threw your legs over his shoulders. Your skin felt like it caught fire when his tongue wasted no time in wiggling inside your cunt. It was long and he knew how to work it, his nose brushing your clit as he drank from you like a thirsty dog.

"Woo-Wooyoung, god!" Your breath hitched, legs twitching around his head, that deft tongue leaving your core to circle your clit, those two fingers sinking into your heat once more. He pulled back, licking his lips, spread into a sinful grin.

"You taste so fucking good, sweetheart." He groaned, crooking his fingers up hard, battering your weak spot.

"W-w-wait!" Your orgasm was coming on fast, and his fingers kept up their antics as he laid over you again, nose nuzzling behind your ear.

"Cum for me, princess." He licked over the crest of your ear, and he chucked breathily as your cunt clenched and spasmed around his fingers, their wiggling spurring your orgasm along. You shuddered and heaved as he pulled out, and you flinched when the slick pad of his index finger lowered, swirling over your pucker.

"Huh?" Your back arched from the odd sensation, but he didn't go further than a few teasing brushes.

"Maybe later, I want to taste all of you. And I want to fuck you full of my cum there too." He sank his teeth into your earlobe, and you turned your head to the side submissively, whimpering.

"Oh, you're a good girl, huh?" His teeth scraped along the column of your exposed throat, your head twisting more to give him better access.

"Fuck, you're gonna feel so good on my cock, princess." Wooyoung groaned, scattering kisses over your neck, shoulders and throat as he wiggled to get his pants and boxers off. Hauling you back down the couch, he easily grabbed your thighs to lead you to wrap them around his middle. You sighed feeling the heat of hard cock slide through your folds, head swimming as the fat head prodded your entrance, then slid up.

"Wooyoung, please~!" You whimpered, wanting him to sear through you, craving the burning sting.

"You wanna know something, sunshine?"

"What?" He chuckled at your slightly slurred speech.

"I plan on railing you so hard you don’t even remember who San is." He hummed and you couldn't brace for his entrance, his fat cock filling you with a hard snap of his hips. Your back arched, breath forced out of you, chipped fingernails digging crescents into his back. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, gummy walls spasming and fluttering around his cock, somehow the pain of him gouging into you threw you over the edge so quickly it made your clit sting too.

"God, fuck, Wooyoung!" You finally caught your breath enough to speak and he groaned long and deep.

"You're so fucking perfect, (Y/N). Oh, sweetheart, you're made for me!" He groaned a laugh, fading into a whine as the clenches faded with your orgasm. You felt like a truck hit you, vision blurry, lower half protesting at Wooyoung's brutal entrance, but you loved it. Your hips jumped again, cunt sucking him in further when he sat up more, pinning on of your knees to your shoulder, holding the other at his waist.

"Look at your cute pussy struggling to take me, huh?" He loved the sight of your tight core weeping around his cock, slick shining along his flesh and both of your inner thighs.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart~" He giggled, and your fingers gouged lines down the skin of his back as he started, pace immediately relentless, battering your cervix with the head of his dick. The hand at your thigh holding it to his side left, sliding down your body and gripping your ass.

"Hm, you like it, pretty girl? Like my fat cock?"

"Fuck, yes, Woo~" Your breath heaved, and you let out a delirious giggle, gasping and whining hard as his rapid pace barreled you through your third orgasm. Your cunt stung, but it was so good. You squealed when his hand left your butt, only to slap the skin hard, the sting travelling up your hip and into your thigh. He felt your walls grip him harder at the spank, so he did it again, harder.

"Oh, shit-" Your head lolled against the couch cushion, face and neck flushed, heaving for air. Your nails clawed down his chest to his stomach and he licked his lips at the sting.

"(Y/N), you're such a good girl, yeah? My good girl~"

"Y-yours!"

"Yes, sweetheart. All mine, oh, you're doing so good."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, princess. This pussy's so good too, welcoming my cock home?"

"Yeah!" You giggled, dumb on his cock and he hadn't even come once yet.

"Aw, love, can I cum inside? You on the pill, yeah? Let me paint you white, huh? Fuck you full of my cum, then flip you over and give you more?" He was laughing every few words, sounding almost a bit delirious himself. He had wanted to have you like that for so long, and he was going to fuck you on every surface in the place if he could.

"P-please!"

"Okay, I'm gonna then-" Wooyoung hummed, it faded to a groan, then with a few more stuttering thrusts, you felt heat blossom in your lower stomach. His cock pulsed as rope after rope of hot jizz filled you, a few drops leaking from where he split you open, leaving a mess on the couch. Your body jerked as his orgasm faded, you almost blacked out from your own. Your clit was throbbing, folds swollen and red, but he was still painfully hard.

~~~

"Hold on here." Wooyoung moved your hands to the mount of the shower head, and you wrapped your fingers around the metal pipe. Your toes curled as he entered you again, hot water hitting his back and dripping off of him onto you. Drops of cum hit the shower floor along with the water and he started to pound into you again. The water made the slaps of the skin of his pelvis against your butt and thighs all the louder, nearly muffling your soft whimpers and mewls. Your ass was red, covered in hand-shaped welts, thighs littered with hickeys and kiss-marks. His back, chest and stomach were covered in scratches, a bite-mark etched into his shoulder and a single hickey clung to his jawline. You weren't sure how long it had been since he first got inside you, but it had to have been hours ago. You had no idea where his stamina had come from, and your once burning cunt had more or less numbed to the sting of overstimulation, tiny orgasms shattering through you without warning or reason. You felt the wet strands of his hair on your shoulders as he leaned over you, hand cupping the underside of your breast, the other over your hands on the shower mount.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I love you. I love you so much." He kissed your shoulder, avoiding a sore-looking mark he had left.

"I-I love you t-t-too, Wooyoung-!" You heaved for air as another tiny climax shivered through you.

"Breathe baby, you gotta pace yourself, I still gotta fuck you stupid.” Wooyoung giggled and you just squeaked and mewled, since he already had.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[fangirlings-things]

@maggiescarborough said: Hello, I’d like to request something, love 😊 My first idea (because I am a sucker for Newt and Theseus) was 19 → "Have we met before?" with Theseus, and a Hufflepuff!reader? I’d love that. Like maybe they meet as adults and obviously popular Mr Scamander doesn’t really remember reader, but is intrigued by her? Thank you so much and I hope you have fun!

A/N: sophieeee this idea is amazing, had real fun writing this, I hadn't wrote for Theseus in a long while!! hope you like it, love 💖

gif is not mine || TAG LIST IS OPEN

You felt as if your heart was going to explode inside of your chest because of how fast your heart was beating. Your eyes ran through everything that was around you and honestly, it was a lot.

The central hall of the British Ministry of Magic where you had been told to wait, sitting on a bench at the corner, felt as big as Hogwarts. If you looked up to the roof, you felt as if it would fall upon your head and crush you at any moment. Maybe, it was just your nervousness speaking. People walked fastly coming and going, holding into suitcases and folders probably filled with valuable information. Information that made you curious and intrigued to the very core of your being. Information you longed to work with someday.

Your eyes kept on going through the great hall, until they landed upon a someone who instantly got your attention.

The young man, who had dark brown messy hair and wore a blue suit that fit perfectly his tall, slim body, was talking to a man who was probably on his sixties, arguing fiercely as the older one just seemed to sight and mumble just a few words of disappointment. You frowned while watching him, trying to figure out why he seemed so familiar. Those features... you had seen them before.

As you tried to fit your thoughts into place the men's discussion ended and the familiar young man walked away, clearly angry and quite irritated by the way his steps seemed to collide with the floor. After a second you noticed he was walking towards the other side of the hall and was going to pass right by your bench. Your nervousness only increased at that. You lowered your eyes to the floor, hands joined over your lap, waiting for him to go without noticing your stare.

What you hadn't expected, was for him to seat at the empty edge of the bench you were on, resting his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands. From the corner of your eye, you silently watched as he stayed like that for a long moment, to then lean back and rest his hands on his thighs as a heavy sight escaped him.

In a burst of courage, you turned your head to him. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but... have we met before?"

He turned his head in your direction with a deep frown, not being able to hide the surprise for having being called by you. He analyzed your features for a second, intrigued. "I don't think so" then turned his gaze away.

In that moment, when your eyes met for a brief second, you recognized him. Why he looked so familiar. Now, it really felt like your heart was going to explode. "You're Theseus Scamander"

He turned back to you, now even more surprised. "Yes. And you are?"

The fact that he didn't remember you, didn't surprise you at all. Obviously, popular, Mr. Scamander wouldn't remember someone as shy as you. "I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N)" you felt your cheeks burning under his intense stare. "I'm a Hufflepuff too. We studied at the same time in Hogwarts, attended some of the same classes even" as he stayed in silence, you looked away, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to annoy you"

"No, it's ok, I've just been having a rough day" his tone, now soft, made you look up again to meet his gaze. There was a small smile on his lips now. Little did you know, he had found your shyness extremely cute. "I'm sorry I don't remember you. I was quite a stupid teenager" he chuckled a bit and gave out his hand for you to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)" you shook his hand for a brief moment and then pulled back, smiling too. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I applied for a job and was told to come here today, to know if I will get the spot. I've been waiting for some time now and have to say, I'm anxious" you chuckled nervously, fingertips moving against one another over your lap.

Theseus smiled due to your words. He looked like he was about to say something, when a woman approached the bench you two shared. "Mr. Scamander, your presence is required on an emergency meeting" when he nooded in agreement, she walked away.

Theseus got up from the bench and for a moment just stood there, fixing his blue suit in place. As if it wasn't already perfect. Then he looked at you, smiling still. "I hope you get the job, (Y/N). So I get to see you around here. It definitely will make my work days better"

After saying that he walked away, leaving you speechless behind and thinking that you wanted that spot at the Ministry more than ever.

[raibebe]

Soft core

Genre: Fluff(?) Words: 11,4 k holy shit this is insane Prompt: Jaehyun in his vampire bdsm outfit he wore in the Punch era but make it sfw Warnings: mentions of blood, brief mentions of member x member relationships, brief descriptions of a panic attack

A/N: This was written for Aimee who loves Jaehyun with her whole heart, happy birthday Aimee 💖 I hope you had an amazing day and like this little something. I know you deactivated but I already started writing this a month ago and I’ll post it anyways in the hope you’ll see this someday and a couple of others will enjoy this as well. I have mixed and matched their outfits and tattoos from both the concept photos and the live stages. Also I’m sorry Johnny, but you fit the role of the shameless flirt so well… Bonus points for anyone who spots all cameos. Special thanks to @burtonized​ who made me keep going with this and listened to all my complaints.

To say you were nervous before starting your first shift at your new job in a reasonably shady bar not too far from your apartment was an understatement. You seriously questioned your own sanity and why you had even applied for the job when you had seen the offer on the beat up wooden entrance door next to an old motorcycle license plate and a bright green neon sign that illuminated the word ‘open’ a couple of days ago. The blue haired man behind the bar had given you a questioning look after you had entered the bar because you couldn’t have looked any more out of place with your soft sweater between the old wooden interior and the leather the barman and a handful of customers were wearing. It had cost all of your courage and a reminder that you needed to find a job for the weekends to walk up to the bar to ask the barman about the job offer. He had asked you a couple of questions like whether you had already waited tables before, which you had (at a place that was lit far better than this one but how different would it be?). The man who had introduced himself as Kun and honestly seemed like a big softie on the inside despite his serious look (it had to be the intense eyebrows) had agreed to hire you on the spot because he had the offer up for a while and no one had come in to ask about it and he couldn’t keep bullying his apparently very chaotic roommates to keep covering the shifts on the busy weekends anymore.

That’s how you found yourself here, a couple of days later on a Friday night, staring at the wooden door yet again (now missing the job offer and not yet illuminated by the neon sign).You took a deep breath and pushed through the door of the bar, this time not looking as out of place as you had before, wearing black skinny jeans and a simple grey v-neck. Kun looked up from where he was wiping down the counter, shooting you a smile. Today he had styled his hair up, exposing his forehead and was wearing a black button up shirt with a bunch of white details that was missing quiet some buttons at the top. “You actually came,” he grinned, “You can put your jacket and bag into the back room.” He pointed to a door with the label ‘staff only’. “We’re opening in half an hour. I’ll introduce you to the others once they decide to arrive.” Nodding you rushed to put your stuff away. You were pleasantly surprised by how clean it was in the back. The beat up interior from the main room was nowhere to be found. So it really didn’t seem too bad if it was only shabby for aesthetic purposes.

After taking a couple of more deep breaths in front of the mirror in the staff room, you felt as prepared as you would ever be and emerged back into the main room of the bar. Next to Kun behind the counter was now another man, clad in the tightest pair of leather pants you had ever seen and a loose, see through black blouse, his long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, showing off a variety of piercings in his ears that were reflecting the low light of the neon signs. When both men noticed you, the blonde flashed you a bright smile and quickly wiped his fingers on the towel he had used to dry some glasses and held it out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Ten. Kun told me he had finally found someone willing to help us out on the weekends but he missed to tell me how cute you are. Don’t worry the customers are all nice and if anyone gives you any problems, weird stares or makes inappropriate comments, just tell me immediately and I’ll throw them out,” he introduced himself. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the image of this petite man throwing drunken men twice his size out of the bar. “Thank you,” you answered before introducing yourself as well. “Would you please wipe down the tables in the back?” Kun asked, handing you a cloth, “The other waiter should be here any minute, so he can walk you through the process.” “You’re all males working here?” You asked shyly while starting to wipe the tall round tables closest to the bar. “Honey, there’s not many woman brave enough to even set a foot in here even though about eighty percent of our regulars and hundred percent of our staff are big softies hiding behind leather jackets and tattoos,” Ten chirped, disappearing beneath the counter to check the tubes of the beer taps.

Speaking of the other staff, as if on queue the door slammed open to reveal a ridiculously tall man with the biggest brown eyes you had ever seen, his platinum hair swept back from his forehead,  a huge grin plastered on his face. “Yooo, the poster with the job offer is gone, did you finally find someone?” The man all but shouted, excitedly bouncing up and down on his way to the bar, shucking off his leather jacket and carelessly throwing it on one of the bar stools to reveal toned arms and a strong chest straining his short sleeved black shirt. “Xuxi, indoor voice please,” Kun groaned, massaging his temples. “Oh sorry,” the other man - Xuxi - answered, flashing Kun big puppy eyes. “We did find someone, please don’t scare her off,” Ten answered Xuxi’s initial question, emerging back from under the counter, smashing the door shut, which caused Kun to groan again. “That thing has a handle for a reason,” he sighed. “It keeps opening itself back up otherwise,” the smaller man shrugged, leaning against the now spotless counter, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Wait, her?” Xuxi asked, eyes wide in either excitement or amazement, “As in she? A girl?” “Yes, hello,” you quietly introduced yourself, stepping out from the corner where you had been cleaning the tabletops.

“Wow, you’re so pretty,” Xuxi said instead of a proper introduction when you walked over to where the three men were standing. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, tinting them a rosy color. Sighing, Kun took the dirty cloth from you and rinsed it in the sink. “This is Xuxi, the other waiter for tonight. As you might have noticed he doesn’t have much of a filter, but i swear he is harmless.” “Just call me Lucas at work, it’s easier,” the man in question grinned, not even bothering to correct Kun and extended a hand for you to shake (needless to say because he was unnecessary tall, his huge hand could almost cover your whole fist). “I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he beamed and even though he had just called you cute, he was definitely the cutest person currently in this room. “Thank you,” you murmured, a smile spreading on your lips because Xuxi’s grin was really infectious and you felt your anxiety disappearing.

In the remaining time before the bar would officially open, Xuxi taught you everything you needed to know. From their system and how you’d take the orders and which tables you would serve to special drinks that weren’t on the menu and what to do if any customers would give you trouble. “There’s probably not much to do for the first two hours or so”, Xuxi concluded, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair, making his muscles dance beneath his shirt, “Like that you can get used to it before it gets packed. Fridays are always busy and there’s a bunch of different people coming. Did any regulars call in before?” He asked the last question to the general direction of the bar. Flipping through a book next to the cash register, Ten nodded. “127 are coming in, they got that big table in the back but other than that, no one called.” “What’s 127?” You asked curiously because that was one of the tables you were supposed to serve. “They’re a group of guys our age, but I’m not really sure what exactly they are to be honest,” Xuxi laughed while fixing the belt that held his wallet before handing you your own one. “I think they are bikers,” Ten supplied, turning around to reorganizing the bottles behind the bar for the third time tonight, “At least some of them have bikes and they sure look the part. Have you seen Johnny’s new tattoo the other week, Xuxi? That must have hurt like hell.” “Yeah, I saw the post with his chestpiece on his Instagram. That man is ripped.” “Well, you’re one to talk,” you murmured under your breath, organizing the contents of the belt to your liking. Laughing out loud, Ten slapped Kun on the chest. “We need to keep her, I like her,” he giggled and Kun just shot you a slightly pained smile, rubbing where Ten’s hand had come down. “Oh come on, old man. I didn’t even hit that hard.” “Stop calling me old, I am literally just two months older than you,” Kun groaned, softly shaking a grinning Ten. Unbothered by the bickering of the two barmen, Xuxi called over from the door: “I’ll switch on the sign!”

Your anxiety came back at full force when the bar started to fill up one hour after it opened. Resisting the urge to hide behind the bar, you approached yet another group of shady looking men to take their orders. Like the other people you had served before, they gave you a weird look while looking up and down your frame once before asking if you were new here. You just nodded and smiled politely while writing down their orders before walking back to the bar where you took out one of the trays and put the note with the order on top so Ten or Kun could put the according drinks on top. “Here, have a little drink, the night is just beginning,” Ten grinned and pushed a glass into your hands before completing the order while somehow also dancing fluently to the music that was playing through the speakers now. You eyed the drink suspiciously, the deep orange color throwing you off a bit. “It’s not spiked, no need to worry,” Xuxi told you, suddenly appearing next to you, placing his own tray with empty glasses onto the counter, winking teasingly before grabbing a colorful bottle to pour a bunch of shots, so Ten and Kun could focus on the other, more complicated drinks on the orders. You drowned the sickly sweet drink quickly and put the glass next to the ones that needed to be rinsed. You mouthed Ten a ‘thank you’ when you picked up your order and he blew you an exaggerated kiss, making you giggle and feel a little more at ease. It was like he had known you were being nervous again.

After checking in with your other tables and earning a big tip from some truckers that actually had been really nice, you made your way back to the bar to help Kun with rinsing the glasses that had been piling up. “You remember those regulars that were coming in tonight?” the blue haired barman suddenly asked, “That’s them.” He nodded towards the door where a group of men were coming in. For a moment, your breath got caught in your throat because Ten hadn’t been wrong earlier when he said that those 127 guys looked like bikers. Honestly anyone of them could have been a model for the leather clothes they were wearing while standing in front of a Harley Davidson or thrashing something with a baseball bat. (Also was one of them wearing a metal harness beneath his leather vest?) “They’re all nice people, no need to worry,” Kun calmed you down, shooting you a reassuring smile before taking the beer glass from your hands that you had started to grip so hard, your knuckles were turning white. “How many are they?” You asked him curiously while eyeing the group as they made their way over to their designated table, greeting other regulars as well as Lucas (one of them was apparently just as incapable of having an indoor voice as him when he loudly yelled ‘Lucas’ before hugging the taller male tightly).

“Yooo, Johnny’s chestpiece looks even more sick in real life,” Lucas said with wide eyes when he came back to the bar. “Also he gave me 20 dollar so I would ask Haechan and Mark if they were even legal when they would order something alcoholic,” he grinned, “I’ll share if you do it.” “How am I supposed to know who to ask?” You asked because even though you were shy, 20 dollars were 20 dollars. “That’s the spirit,” Lucas grinned and threw an arm around your shoulders to turn you in the direction of the table where the men had sat down, not even trying to be subtle about it. “You see the one with the purple hair sitting next to the tall one with half his chest exposed? The purple haired one is Haechan and the tall one is Johnny. Mark is the one on the stool to the left, just ask Haechan for his age first, Mark will be the one to laugh the loudest,” he quickly explained. “You know them quite well,” you said, trying to fight the heat spreading across your cheeks because it didn’t happen any day that you were in such a close proximity to a handsome man like Lucas. “I went to school with Mark,” he shrugged, letting you go when Kun yelled that his order was ready.

Before walking up to their table you took another deep breath to calm your furiously beating heart, repeating in your head how no one had been mean to you yet and that all your coworkers kept on telling you how nice they were supposed to be. “Hi everyone,” you greeted them when you arrived at the table, “Have you already decided what you want to order?” Seeing the chaos that the group was already in, half of them probably didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the table. “Guys!” The pink haired man wearing the harness type thing scolded the others that were bickering in the back of the little booth on the couch. “I’m sorry, they usually behave better,” he smiled and his big eyes combined with his pink hair made him look like he came straight out of an animation. “I’m Taeyong by the way,” the pink haired man supplied, flashing you a genuine smile, “You’re new here, right? I haven’t seen you around before.” “Today is my first day,” you nodded, cheeks heating up under the gaze of the handsome man, nervously playing with your little notepad. “Let’s order, guys!” Taeyong said, the others slowly turning their attention towards you. How all of them were this handsome was beyond your imagination. Shyly you introduced yourself as their waiter for the night for the second time and asked for their orders. One after the other they either ordered plain beer or some really extraordinary cocktails that you had never heard of before. When the purple haired boy, Haechan, ordered his cocktail, you took a deep breath before putting on your best poker face. “Could I see your ID to check your age first?”

As soon as the words had left your lips, the whole table fell dead silent and the boy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. But before you could lose your courage to mutter an apology, the boy that had greeted Lucas loudly before, burst out in laughter, that the others minus Haechan quickly joined and even you couldn’t hold back the grin that spread over your face. “Now that I think about it, could I see yours as well?” You followed up and asked the dark haired boy with the infectious laugh, whose eyes immediately turned into saucers, his mouth wide open while the others couldn’t hold their laughs anymore, the purple haired boy joining in now. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, turning to the last man to order when they all had calmed down, using the napkins on the table to exaggeratedly wipe their tears. “What can I get you?” When the man with the dark hair that was elegantly swept back from his face turned towards you, you could swear that time stilled for a moment. His dark eyes that were accentuated with a bit of eyeshadow fixed yours and you were captivated, unable to look away. When your eyes dipped lower for a second you could see the black ink of a tattoo on the pale skin of his neck. He seemed familiar but you couldn’t quite tell why. Maybe you had seen him around on campus. But even then you should have been able to tell because that tattoo really wasn’t subtle at all. Briefly you were wondering if he could ever work a normal job with something like that. “I think I’ll just start with a beer as well,” he spoke softly, his voice a deep rumble, tearing you from your thoughts. After you had definitely stared at him for way too long than it would have been acceptable, you tore your gaze away from him, quickly scribbling down his order as well, repeating what you had written down for the others to confirm.

“Great, then I’ll be back in a bit with your drinks,” you smiled, after one of them had insisted that they should get a round of shots as well. “Can’t wait,” the tall one with the eagle tattoo on his chest said with a smirk on his lips, adding a cheesy wink that made you way more flustered than you would have liked. You quickly turned to hide your heated face, speed walking back over to the bar to put their order down. “Did you do it?” Lucas eagerly asked, bouncing up and down in excitement where he was helping to dry some glasses behind the counter. “Where’s my money?” You grinned, holding out your palm towards him. “Waaa, you really did it,” he grinned while bouncing up and down excitedly and you could barely hold in the urge to coo at him. He really did resemble an oversized puppy. You barely knew him for more than a couple of hours but he already had wiggled his way into your heart.

“Lucas, you didn’t tell us such a pretty girl would be serving us tonight,” a smooth male voice suddenly interrupted. When you turned around, the tall man from the 127 gang (Were they a gang? Did they do illegal stuff?) came walking up to the counter, leaning against the polished wood. “She’s new here, I didn’t know either,” Lucas pouted, already grabbing two shot glasses to put up on the bar top, putting the third one back down when you shook your head. You weren’t going to drink on your first day of work even though it seemed to be normal when you watched Lucas fill up the two glasses with a shady looking liquid from an unlabeled bottle he had grabbed from below the counter. Clinking their glasses together both men drowned their shots and while the tall biker didn’t even flinch, Lucas broke out into a whole body shiver, squeezing his eyes shut. “This stuff is really fucking disgusting,” he grimaced before refilling one of the shot glasses again, shoving it in front of the other man again, “I don’t know how Ten manages to make these concoctions.” Grinning, the man in question suddenly appeared and snatched the shot glass from below the other‘s fingers, drowning it himself. The blonde only grimaced a little. “I gotta say, I’ve made better stuff but also definitely worse. Lucas, we need a new keg of beer, can you please get one from the back, you’re so much stronger than I am,” Ten pouted, batting his lashes at Lucas and rubbing one of his hands over the other’s muscled arms. “Be nice to her,” Lucas told the man with the big tattoo on his chest and quickly disappeared to the back.

“I’m Johnny by the way,” he introduced himself, running a hand through his dark red hair. “So you’re the one who asked Lucas to embarrass your friends,” you remembered, your eyes getting caught on the intricate feathers of the eagle that spread its wings over Johnny’s broad chest. He smirked when your eyes came back up to meet his. “That would be me. You like the tattoo?” “It looks nice,” you mumbled, embarrassed at being caught staring, “It’s not something you see every day.” “I have some other ones that are pretty interesting as well,” he winked. “Su-Sure,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up for what must have been the millionth time this night. “You’re cute,” Johnny laughed, the sound bright and inviting, his eyes turning into little crescents. “What did you come over for? Did I miss something on the order?” You tried to move the conversation in a direction you were a little (a lot) more comfortable with. “I just thought I could put my muscles to use and help you carry our drinks, we ordered quite a lot. Also I still owe you money for pulling that prank on Mark and Haechan. Even though their faces were priceless.” “How old are they anyways?” You asked him because you didn’t actually ended up looking at their IDs and Haechan especially did seem quite young. Digging out his worn out wallet, Johnny fished out a twenty dollar bill and teasingly held it up between two fingers. “They’re both of age, don’t worry, they just have baby faces.”

Snatching the bill from his hands, you quickly stuffed it in your pocket. “Thank you,” you grinned, relieved that it really had just been a prank between friends. “How old are you then?” You heard yourself asking after you had glanced at the tray that Ten had been filling up, but a couple of glasses were still missing. The weird cocktails seemed to take quite some time to make (Why there was celery swimming in what looked like tomato juice was a mystery to you). “Let’s pretend I’m in my early twenties,” Johnny grinned, his long fingers playing with the cherries that were stuck to the rim of one of the cocktail glasses. “Pretend?” You were confused. He couldn’t be much older than you were. “It’s improper for old men like me to flirt with such pretty young girls after all,” he winked and stuck out his tongue. “You… You can’t be much older than me though,” you argued, trying to fight your shyness back down. But your furiously beating heart was betraying you. Luckily he couldn’t notice that from his place where he was still leaning against the counter, the long line of his body perfectly shown off; his legs seemed almost endlessly long in the heavy leather pants. Chuckling, he raked his eyes across your body in a similar way you must have seconds ago but you felt like you were burning up wherever he was looking. Within the blink of an eye he was in your personal space, crowding you against the bar. “I’m 25,” he breathed, “How long do you have to work today, honey?”

Before you could even think of an answer, Johnny was shoved backwards by another man dressed completely in black. You recognized him as one of the men from Johnny’s gang, the one with the neck tattoo that had seemed weirdly familiar to you. “Leave her alone, Johnny,” he drawled, his voice barely more than a growl, “There’s someone waiting for you outside.” After a moment of heavy eye contact between the two males, Johnny scoffed and threw you another smile. “See you later, darling,” he chirped before turning towards the exit. “I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable, he doesn’t know when to stop sometimes,” the handsome man spoke, his voice still deep but way less threatening. “It’s… It’s fine you wouldn’t have needed to step in like that,” you reassured him, “But thank you.” “Yeah, I don’t know, something just didn’t sit right with me when he crowded you like that. Especially when you’re new to this type of environment, it’s pretty different from your usual job.” “My usual job?” You asked, clearly confused, “Do we know each other?” “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you had recognized me,” the man’s eyes widened in surprise and he averted his gaze as if he was embarrassed. “I’m Jaehyun. You know, the dude who keeps killing his plants.” Now it was your turn to be surprised. “No way. You look so different.” “It’s the clothes, right?” Jaehyun was rubbing the intricate lines of ink on his neck, looking up from between his dark lashes, smiling shyly and now that his dimples were almost showing, you did finally recognize him.

He was somewhat of a regular customer at the flower shop you worked in during the week to help out the old lady who owned the shop, always coming in to buy new plants when he had managed to kill yet another one. Now in the heavy leather jacket with more buckles and straps than you could count, he looked so different than when he came to the shop, his dark hair fluffy so his bangs almost covered his eyes and wearing soft sweaters and jeans. You also somehow had never noticed the big tattoo that stretched around his neck.

You could remember the first time he came into the shop very vividly. It was just after your break that you had spent lazing around in the backyard of the shop in front of the little greenhouse, letting the sun shine onto your face, just basking in the moment for a bit, letting all your worries about money or upcoming exams melt away. The job at the little flower job didn’t pay very well because people these days bought less and less flowers and the old lady couldn’t afford to pay more but you couldn’t just leave her alone in the shop. You really enjoyed her presence and learning about the language of flowers and how to bind pretty bouquets. When the distant chirping of the old cuckoo clock in the shop announced the end of your break, you got up from your place and put your apron back on, so you wouldn’t accidentally dirty your clothes. You came back into the shop just in time to see the big load of new plants that was being delivered. Two boys were unloading a colorful truck while continuously bickering in what seemed to be Chinese about where to put the plants in the shop and on the sidewalk outside so people could still walk past. “Urgh, this sucks why did we let us get talked into helping out?” The one with green hair sighed after they had put the last plant down, handing the old lady the papers she had to sign that the shipment had arrived at her place. She chuckled while handing the papers back. “I’ve made some iced tea, have a little break, boys,” she smiled her kind, wrinkled smile at them, taking them to the little kitchen area in the back to pour each one of them a glass even though the smaller of them had declined her offer at least ten times while his green haired friend gladly took her invitation.

Smiling you reassured the old lady that you would rearrange the flowers and plants so you could fit them all into the shop and the small greenhouse in the back. Maybe her grandson would come in later to help you move the heavier plants. He always came to the shop to laze around without having his parents scold him and his grandmother could never say no to his charming smile that made any girl his age swoon. He had recently dyed his hair a soft pinkish shade and had been hanging around the shop a lot more because his parents weren’t quite fond of his style choices. You gently stroked the leaves of the little pink rose bushes (that had kind of reminded you of the boy in the first place) that seemed rather thirsty to you, making a mental note to water them lots after you had arranged them.

While rearranging the cut roses so you could fit the new bushes in between them, the little bell on the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. “I’ll be right over,” you said, detangling yourself from the bush you had tried to fit in the display window. “No need to hurry,” the customer answered with a deep voice. It wasn’t often that men visited your store. And most times they just wanted a quick, expensive looking bouquet to either impress a girl or to apologize to their wife. Putting on your best customer friendly smile, you walked over to where the man was eyeing some cherry tree bonsais, his broad back turned towards you. “How can I help you?” When the man turned around, he immediately politely smiled at you, making your heart beat pick up just a little. He was definitely attractive, you couldn’t deny that. His dark hair was unstyled and hung into his eyes a bit, covering his strong eyebrows that every girl would be envious over. He seemed young, about your age. The pale blue hoodie and the fluffy hair made him seem very soft and gentle despite his strong jawline and prominent cheekbones. “Well I’ve moved into a new space and it looks a little empty, so I thought some plants might be the way to fix that,” he explained, fiddling with the hem of his slightly oversized hoodie. “That’s a great idea,” you beamed, trying to seem reassuring since he seemed rather nervous, “Do you have anything special in mind?” “No, I really don’t but those roses you just put in the display window look very pretty, it’s what made me come in,” he said, motioning to where you had been fighting with the roses earlier. “Roses need a lot of attention though,” you warned him, walking over to where you had tucked the little bushes into a corner. “I have a lot of time and like a good challenge,” he answered, a grin tugging at his lips, a set of dimples just barely showing, “You’re bleeding by the way.” He added, gently touching your hand. Startled, you jerked away, heat licking at your cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, “But you should bandage that or it might get infected if something gets into the wound.” “Don’t worry, it’s not even that deep,” you concluded after examining the small cut on the back of your hand where you had lost the battle with one of the thorns. You quickly shot the man another smile that you hoped was reassuring.

“So do any of those roses look good to you?” “The pale orange ones look nice.” You couldn’t hold back a small giggle. “What’s so funny?” He asked, his beautiful brows drawn together in confusion. “The color is called peach,” you still giggled, grabbing the pot to show him the petals in the sunlight. “Well it is orange though,” he shrugged. “Men and colors,” you sighed dramatically but couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips, “You like them and want to try caring for them?” “Yeah, let’s try it. Anything I should look out for?” While walking up to the cash register and ringing him up, you briefly explained how to take care of the roses the best.

“I hope they brighten up your room a bit,” you smiled when he had paid. “The visit sure brightened up my day,” he replied smiling widely, the set of cute dimples reappearing on his cheeks. Before you could overcome your sudden shyness to reply anything, he had already wished you a good day and disappeared from the shop.  

After his visit, the man had crept back into your mind a couple of times. Every time you watered the little twin of the rose bush he had bought, it somehow reminded you of his sweet dimpled smile and his deep, soothing voice. You always scolded yourself when you noticed how you were spacing out, in fact watering the floor instead of the little rose bushes how you were supposed to. (You had been made fun of by a certain pink haired boy one too many times lately.) Your boss had just smiled knowingly and pressed a little bouquet with beautiful yellow Chrysanthemums in the middle, when you had closed up the shop, making your face heat up and furiously deny everything. But like always, the old lady knew you probably better than you knew yourself.

The second time the handsome stranger had visited the shop, he had been wearing a white turtle neck and a simple denim jacket, his hair pushed back with a dark blue hat. “Hello again,” he greeted you, gently smiling when he walked up to the counter where you were currently binding a bouquet with a couple of big purple hyacinths, “I’ll have a little look around. No need to hurry that.” Even though you tried to concentrate on arranging the flowers in the bouquet and picking smaller flowers that would look good with the big center piece, you kept glancing over to the man who was sniffing different flowers, quietly sneezing when he inhaled too deeply.

“Those are really pretty,” he said after he had not so subtly watched you work for a while from his place between the brightly colored geraniums while walking up to the counter. “The man who commissioned them paid a lot of money for them to look pretty,” you smiled, gently tucking smaller white flowers all around the big purple ones in the middle. “Does it mean anything? I’ve never seen this kind of flower,” he asked, seeming genuinely interested. “You’re interested in the language of flowers?” You asked, securely tying the bouquet together, placing them in a vase for the time being. “What languages would flowers speak?” The man asked, sounding genuinely confused. For a moment you could just stare at him, his dark brown eyes widened and his mouth slightly ajar, before you burst out in a fit of giggles. “Hey! What’s so funny?” He asked, trying to sound offended but he couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his lips. “They don’t speak any language, silly. The different types of flowers mean different things. I don’t know all of it but the owner of the shop has been teaching me some of it,” you explained to him. “Ooh, that makes a lot more sense,” he nodded, “What do those mean then?” “They’re hyacinths. The man told me he needed to apologize to his girlfriend. The purple ones stand for sorrow. I doubt she will notice though.” “Probably not,” he chuckled. “What did the rose mean I bought last time? The peach one?” “I’m not quite sure, I’ll ask my boss when she’s back. What brings you back here?” “Well,” he scratched the back of his head and averted his eyes, “I need a new plant, the rose was  kind of a lot more work than I thought it was.”

“Oh no.” You felt genuinely sad. You kind of had expected it not to go well but this was honestly a lot faster than you could have imagined. “I should have listened to you when you told me that they were a lot, I’m sorry,” he apologized, “But I really want to try to keep a plant alive. She looked really good for the time she was alive.” “She?” “Well I gave her a name.” You giggled again. “That’s really cute.” “Not as cute as you though.” It was suddenly so silent in the shop, the only noise the soft buzzing sound coming from the air-conditioning. You stared into the man’s eyes, expecting a his face to heat up in a similar fashion yours was, to see a blush creep up his face or his ears, but his face stayed perfectly pale, not a single blotch of color visible. But he had to be embarrassed as well if the way he was chewing on his lips was any sign. “I’m sorry, that just slipped,” he mumbled. “I… Shouldn’t you at least tell me your name before you start complimenting me like that?” You stuttered when you found your voice again. “Jaehyun,” he supplied, still awkwardly shuffling around, “It’s Jaehyun.” “Alright Jaehyun, let’s find you a new plant that’s not as easy to kill.

From that day onward Jaehyun came to the shop somewhat regularly, either announcing the death of yet another plant or telling you how they were on the brink of death and he didn’t know how it happened or what to do to save them. You were really close to either tell him to stick to bouquets or cacti but when you were being honest, you enjoyed his little visits. He’d stay longer and longer every time, telling you little stories about how he suspected that his roommates were secretly killing all the plants. In turn you told him about your boring life between your classes and your job. And sometimes you even taught him about the language of flowers while he was watching you put together a bouquet for yet another desperate boyfriend.

One visit in particular had stuck with you for some reason. Your whole day had just been bad: One of your professors had caught you slacking off in class and called you out in front of everyone, then at lunch a guy had run into you, making you drop half your food on the floor and then it had started to rain on your way to work. And if that wasn’t enough, the old lady hadn’t been feeling well because of the sudden change in weather and you had sent her off into her apartment that was above the shop, so she could rest. So now you were just alone in the shop, watching the people outside hurry past the shop with their umbrellas. When it was raining even less people were coming into the shop because you couldn’t put any plants outside that often lured people in. Sighing, you continued with the inventory that you had started out of boredom. Of course you also hadn’t brought any useful books, so you could have studied a little.

You must have been deep in thought, moping about how much this day sucked, that you didn’t hear the little bell on the door ringing. So when someone touched your arm to get your attention, you of course were startled and let out a small scream before you lost your balance on the stepladder that you had used to count the spare pots on a higher shelf. And if that wasn’t enough, you also pushed one of said pots down as well. But before you could even brace yourself for the fall, a strong arm had wrapped around you, saving you from crashing down onto the floor and possibly cracking your head open. When you opened your eyes, that you had screwed shut, you saw straight into Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes that were full of concern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he spoke softly and you could feel how his voice rumbled in his chest from how close he was holding you to his body. “It’s alright, it’s my fault anyways. I wasn’t paying attention,” you sighed, slowly realizing in what kind of situation you and Jaehyun were in right now. His face was so close to yours that you could almost count every single one of his long, dark eyelashes. You could even see the faintest little blush spreading over his cheeks and your own face immediately felt hot as well.

Jaehyun just smiled and released you from his grip, gently setting the pot he somehow had managed to catch with his other hand back onto the shelf. He really must have incredible reflexes and obviously the most charming smile you had ever seen. “Don’t blame yourself, you don’t look too good today,” he spoke softly. “Wow thanks,” you sarcastically said, sighing theatrically while running your hands through your hair in an attempt to smooth it out, but probably messing it up further than it already was. “Hard day?” You snorted. Hard was an understatement. It sucked. But a little voice in the back of your head whispered that now that Jaehyun had come to visit you in the shop, it would get better. “You look like you could use a hug,” he smiled and opened his arms invitingly.

Before you could even think twice about it, you wound your arms around his middle and squeezed him tightly, burying your face in the soft fabric of his cardigan that he wore over one of his many turtlenecks. Chuckling, he grabbed the fabric and stretched it around you, so you were basically wrapped up in it against his chest, before wrapping you up in his strong arms. You were drowning in his by now familiar scent and the way his chest steadily rose and fell with his breath made all stress from your body slowly dissolve. “If you keep holding me like this I will cry,” you mumbled, trying to untangle yourself from him. “I don’t mind, you know? Sometimes you just have to cry to let all the stress out,” he assured you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Don’t say that, I will ugly cry in your shirt,” you hiccupped, “I barely know you.” “Oh I think you know me a lot better than a lot of people,” he smiled, “It’s an old shirt anyways.” “Liar, I’ve never seen you wear this before.” “You’re keeping track?” He chuckled. “That’s not what I meant by that,” you mumbled, feeling shy suddenly because how could you not keep track when he just effortlessly looked infuriatingly good every time he walked into the shop.

“You feeling better now?” Jaehyun gently asked after you two had fallen silent, just basking in each other’s presence. He gently tilted your head back from where you had buried it in his neck, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah,” you breathed, captivated by him. You had never noticed the tiny mole he had on one of his cheeks but you found it really endearing.   “Good,” he smiled, “I brought you coffee from the shop next door.” He motioned to the two cups he had placed on the counter next to the cash register. “You have a heart of gold Jaehyun,” you confessed, a smile slowly spreading on your lips and your heartbeat picking up. You kept the thought that he probably would also make the perfect boyfriend, to yourself. Not that it would matter, you were sure he didn’t see you like that. He just played it off, laughing awkwardly like he always did when he was embarrassed. (Coming to think of it, you really seemed to know him better than you had initially thought.) “Let’s drink it before it gets cold and you can tell me more about your day,” he offered and slowly loosened his arms around you. “Can you tell me about yours instead?” You asked with a small voice. “I’d rather forget all of this stupid day before you walked in here.” “Of course, darling,” he breathed. Your heart skipped a beat before doubling its pace when the pet name rolled of his tongue just like that. Maybe there was just the slightest little chance, he might consider you more than just the friend that worked in the flower shop that he had to visit to get advice on how to not kill his plants. Smiling you loosened your grip on him as well and you two sat down on the counter, dangling your legs and sipping the slightly cold coffee while you listened to Jaehyun ramble about the mess that were his flatmates. Until this day you hadn’t figured out how many people he actually lived with but you couldn’t help but smile at the little stories he told you. And even when he stopped talking, you just enjoyed the silence while watching the people outside. And maybe it was just your imagination but the umbrellas outside seemed just a little brighter with your head resting on Jaehyun’s broad shoulder.

“I’ve never noticed your whole tattoo thing that’s going on,” you said, motioning around your own neck when you came back from your fond memories of Jaehyun. “Yeah, I try to not let it show as much usually,” he replied, almost nervously playing with the collar of his leather jacket.   “Did it hurt a lot when you got it?” “Yeah, the skin is kind of tender around your neck,” he answered, his gaze not meeting your eyes but fixating a point right behind you. “You get that question a lot don’t you?” you gently asked, fingers itching to reach out to touch him. “Yeah, it’s all people talk about when they see it,” he shrugged, “I’m used to it by now.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “It’s fine,” Jaehyun reassured you, gently grazing his fingers over your exposed forearm, making goose bumps break out over your skin. “Yes, it did hurt. No I don’t regret it. Yes I probably can’t work a normal job if I’m not wearing a turtleneck. No, I didn’t get it in prison. It was done in a perfectly sanitary tattoo shop by a professional artist. No, I’m not a criminal”, he quickly addressed every typical question he apparently got about the tattoo in a single breath, a smile spreading on his lips, making his dimples appear and your heart beat faster.

“Glad to know I haven’t been talking to a criminal over the past few weeks even though you did kill an unholy amount of plants,” you giggled, checking again if the order was ready only to find Ten engrossed in a conversation with a group of young men that were sitting at the bar, his work forgotten. “Well I guess I am guilty of that,” Jaehyun pouted and it was weirdly endearing seeing him act playful like that with his dark and intimidating clothing. “So you’re not a criminal but a biker?” “Is that what you think our group is?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “That’s what everyone told me at least. And you do look the part.” “A couple of us do have bikes, but I don’t think that justifies the title. We’re just a,” he bit his tongue for a bit, “We’re just friends. Friends who like to dress in a lot of leather and black clothing.”

It seemed to be a somewhat touchy subject so you decided to not push any further. “You don’t need to explain it to me,” you smiled reassuringly, quickly squeezing his cold hand. “Jaehyun, stop flirting with my best waitress,” Kun teased, adding the little shot glasses to the second tray that completed the order. “I wasn’t flirting, I-“ but Jaehyun didn’t complete his apology when Kun shot him a knowing look and your face heated up on his behalf because Jaehyun didn’t blush like ever. “Stop making excuses and help her carry all this back to the table,” the barman grinned, returning to his work by pulling Ten back by the hairs on his neck from where he was still talking to the handsome customers sitting at the bar. “I would appreciate some help, that’s what Johnny came over for as well,” you tried to push past the awkwardness. “Like hell he was,” Jaehyun grumbled, grabbing the one of the trays maybe a tad too forceful than he needed to, the drinks almost spilling over. “Don’t be angry with him, he was being nice,” you consoled him, gently petting his leather clad arm (wasn’t he warm in that thick jacket?). “I saw just how nice he was being,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders, “He’s such a goddamn flirt.” “Nothing happened Jaehyun,” you tried one last time, looking into his dark eyes, getting lost in the seemingly bottomless obsidian.

Only the thud of the heavy entrance door made you snap out of it and you quickly turned to grab the second tray. You hadn’t even noticed how you had gravitated towards Jaehyun, it was like his eyes had hypnotized you. “Need another pair of helping hands?” A familiar voice asked and Johnny strode over towards you two again, now with an energetic bounce in his step, his red lips curved into a smile. “We’ve got it,” Jaehyun answered, scrunching his nose as if he had smelled something bad before taking a deep breath. “Don’t wait too long, Jaehyun,” the taller said, his tone suddenly stern and his brows furrowed. “I can handle it, Johnny,” Jaehyun gritted out, shoving past the taller man to make his way over to the table where their friends were still waiting for their drinks. Sighing, you followed him back to the table. It was weird how different he was behaving with his friends around. You had never expected to meet him in any place outside of your job at the flower shop and much less in a place like this. The soft man who liked to wear denim jackets seemed to be buried beneath the heavy leather jacket.

“Here’s your drinks,” you smiled when you put the tray down to distribute the drinks. “You’re not drinking with us?” A blonde man with a scratch in his eyebrow asked when everyone had picked up their shot glasses. “It’s my first day, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you politely declined his offer. “I’m sure Ten and Kun won’t mind,” he grinned, lifting up his own glass to hand it over to you. “She said no, didn’t you hear, Yuta?” Jaehyun growled and shot his friend a dark look. Unfazed by his behavior, the blonde - Yuta - shrugged his shoulders before drowning his shot himself, not grimacing in the slightest even though the liquid had a questionable amount of alcohol in it, judging by the numbers that had been printed on the label. “But I’m sure we can treat you to something else,” he spoke, before shifting in his seat so his poorly buttoned sleeveless shirt fell open even further, revealing smooth skin that stretched over lean muscles and a promise of something metal hidden beneath. “I-“, you stuttered. What were you supposed to reply to something like that? “You’re shameless,” one of his dark haired friends chuckled, a silver chain glistening in the light when he shook his head. “It’s called confidence,” Yuta defeated himself. “Still shameless,” another one agreed, a grin on his face. “He hasn’t had a good lay in a while, don’t mind him,” Taeyong cut in, shooting you a reassuring smile. “Certainly not because I didn’t had any offers, I’m just picky,” Yuta tried to defend himself, looking scandalized. You just giggled when the other’s started picking on him. You noticed that Jaehyun didn’t join in but his posture was more relaxed than it had been before. You really wanted to thank him for defending your choice to not drink but now didn’t seem appropriate. Silently you collected the now empty shot glasses and picked the trays back up. “I’ll be back to check in with you later then,” you smiled before walking back to the counter after checking in with a couple of other tables.

The rest of the night went down in a blur safe for the one occasion where the slender Ten indeed threw out one of the customers that couldn’t hold his liquor anymore and had fallen when he had tried to walk over to the bar to order more because Lucas had already refused to bring him any more drinks. The times when you had checked in on the 127 table, Yuta had still flirted with you only to be either shot down by Jaehyun or Taeyong. You had also noticed that over the course of the night one or two of them would always leave the bar for a couple of minutes before coming back inside with a new energy and a faint blush on their cheeks. You didn’t know what they did out there but you really hoped they didn’t do drugs or anything like that. They didn’t seem as intoxicated as the other customers no matter how much they ordered. If anything Mark was getting giggly after he had come back inside but that was pretty much everything. They all must have incredible tolerance for alcohol.

When the night died down and more and more customers were leaving, Kun waved you over to tell you that you had been a great help and he would be more than happy to see you again tomorrow for your next shift. You had beamed at him and promised to do your best. “I’m sure you will. Thank you for today, I think Lucas and I can handle the remaining customers,” he told you. “What’s with Ten?” You asked. You hadn’t seen him in a while. Kun just sighed and motioned to the 127 table where Ten comfortably sat on Johnny’s lap, the taller carding through the blonde’s hair that he had freed from the little ponytail. “Are they a thing?” You were confused. Johnny hadn’t been subtle about his flirting earlier. “No one really knows,” Kun groaned, suddenly seeming very irritated, “It’s been happening more lately but last week he went home with Taeyong as far as I remember.” “Oh…” “Don’t think about it too much. I want to say that he knows what he’s doing but that would mean that he’s actually using his brain.” Somehow you thought that he sounded sad. “Just tell Ten that you like him, Kun,” Lucas groaned, running a hand through his by now messy platinum hair. “I don’t like him,” the elder gritted out, violently cleaning glasses and slamming them onto a rack to dry. “Sure and I’ve never thought about making out with any of your roommates,” Lucas teased him. “You have what?” “Never mind I said that,” Lucas mumbled, his ears turning red, before he made a beeline to one of his tables.

You chuckled quietly. “I think he’s fond of you as well,” you softly spoke after Kun had thrown another longing look at Ten who was busy admiring the eagle tattoo on Johnny’s chest. “You don’t need to console me, but I appreciate it,” he smiled but it didn’t quiet reach his eyes, “I came to accept him how he is.” “You should at least try to shoot you shout though, don’t you think?” You tried again, stepping closer to the barman to help him clean the last glasses. He sighed deeply. “I’ve known Ten for too long now, I know he won’t suddenly become monogamous just because I tell him that I might not dislike him as much as I sometimes say.” “You can never know for sure, people do crazy stuff because of love,” a deep voice joined the conversation and Jaehyun sat down on the barstool in front of Kun and you, throwing you a quick smile. “He’s right,” you smiled, briefly squeezing Kun’s hand. “If I say that I’ll think about it, will you leave it alone for now?” You eagerly nodded, looking up at Jaehyun to see if he was doing the same. Instead a smirk played on his lips. “If you give me my drinks for free, I’ll even tell Johnny to not take Ten home tonight,” he grinned, holding up his card between two fingers. “You’re paying for everyone?” Kun just gritted out, snatching the card from the other’s fingers. Jaehyun’s grin widened before he nodded. “Isn’t that going to be a lot of money?” You asked worriedly. You had never asked but assumed Jaehyun must be a student like you, so paying the whole bill for nine men (well eight if Kun was giving Jaehyun his own drinks for free) was a lot. “I lost at rock paper scissors,” he shrugged, “Are you done with your shift?”

“She is,” Kun cut in, smacking the credit card back onto the bartop, “Tell Johnny to send him home, I’m not feeding his cats again because they’re screaming for food.” “Sure. That’s the only reason,” Jaehyun joked, pocketing his card with a grin. Kun didn’t answer, instead leaving you two alone to wipe some empty tables. “Are you going home alone?” “It’s not far from here,” you reassured the dark haired man. “I’ll walk you. You shouldn’t go alone this late.” “Only if it’s not a bother for you…” “Keeping you safe is never a bother for me,” he smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you barely suppressed a shiver from how cold his hands were against your heated face. “I’ll tell the other’s not to wait for me and will wait outside for you,” he softly spoke before turning to walk out the door where his friends apparently had already left.

You quickly gathered your things and sorted out your tips from the rest of the money, putting everything back into the place that Lucas had shown you before disappearing into the staff room to stuff the money into your designated tip jar, so Lucas and you could share your tips with Ten and Kun. While you were quickly trying to fix your hair in the small mirror a very grumpy looking Ten joined you, groaning loudly. You had to suppress your smile. Jaehyun really had convinced Johnny to not take Ten home. “Men are trash, honey,” the blonde suddenly spoke, “Don’t fall for any of them.” “Did you get dumped?” You tried to act like you didn’t exactly knew what must have happened. “Can’t get dumped if you aren’t dating,” Ten chirped, smoothing out a wrinkle in his silky blouse, “But something similar.” “I’m sorry.” “No need to be darling, I’ll just annoy Kun a little more, maybe he’ll actually pop a vein these days,” he giggled mischievously. “Be nice to him, he seems like an actual sweetheart,” you said while slipping on your jacket and picking up your bag. “He is, darling. But where’s the fun in that?” Ten held the door open for you and followed you back to the main room. “Be safe on your way home.” “Jaehyun is waiting outside for me,” you admitted, suddenly feeling shy under Ten’s intense gaze. “So that’s why Johnny wouldn’t take me with him,” he grinned. “No, no that’s not it. He just offered to walk me home,” you stuttered to explain yourself. It wasn’t like what Ten thought it was, right? Oh god. Not that Jaehyun was expecting anything now. He just had asked to walk you home though. Was it a code word for something you didn’t know? “I’m sure he only has the most noble motives,” the barkeeper snickered, “Go, don’t let prince charming wait for too long.” With that he waved you off, walking over to where Kun was wiping a table to drape his body over the other’s back, probably complaining about being dumped. But Kun didn’t seem to mind a whole lot, judging by the smile that tugged on the corners of his lips.

After you had barely escaped Xuxi’s suffocating goodbye hug, you stepped outside into the cold night, taking a deep breath. It was quiet for a Friday night but that might have just been the time. Worried you looked around when you couldn’t see Jaehyun’s broad figure anywhere. Did he ditch you? That didn’t seem like him. Curious you looked into the little ally beside the bar where the dumpsters were. At first you couldn’t make out anything in the dark but when your eyes had adjusted, you could make out a figure, no two, in the dark. One of them was wearing a familiar leather jacket with way too many buckles and straps to be convenient. The man was clinging to the second, unmoving figure and the whole scene made Goosebumps break out all over your body.

“J-Jaehyun?” you stuttered, your bag falling from your shoulder, landing on the concrete with a soft thud. As if he was electrocuted, the man with the dark clothes shoved the limp body he was holding onto just a second ago away from him, but no sound left the other man’s lips, nor did his facial expression change in any way. “I can explain this,” Jaehyun said, his lips a deep red and smeared with what seemed to be blood and eyes wide, tinted a bright crimson. You felt a shiver run down your spine, the scream that had been stuck in your throat threatening to spill now. But before it could rip free, a palm was pressed over your lips and your body collided with Jaehyun’s solid frame. “Please don’t scream,” he whispered in your ear which made all the hairs on your neck stand up. What was happening? Why was there blood on Jaehyun? Has his eyes changed color? How did he get across to you within the blink of an eye? What was with the other person? In a panic, your eyes scanned the alleyway and another muffled scream ripped from your throat when you saw that the man was still unmoving even though he was bleeding from a wound in his neck. “Please,” Jaehyun begged, his voice sounding strained, “Let me explain this, don’t hate me.” Being pressed so close to him, you couldn’t help but notice that his chest wasn’t moving in the slightest like it should if he was breathing. What was happening? Panic began to rise inside you and you felt like you were suffocating, your lungs not getting enough oxygen with Jaehyun’s palm pressed over your mouth. Panicking, you grabbed his wrist and let your nails dig into his skin, but the skin didn’t break. Desperate, you tried to get more air into your lungs, meeting his eyes in a silent plea. “Please don’t scream,” Jaehyun repeated firmly before he slowly freed your mouth, but kept holding you close.

You heaved a couple of heavy breaths, feeling the panic slowly disappear but your heart kept beating furiously, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you dizzy. “Let me take care of this and I’ll explain everything, I promise,” Jaehyun spoke once your breathing had somewhat evened out. “I’ll release you now, don’t run away.” Your voice was still lost somewhere, so you just nodded. After confirming with a nod himself, he slowly uncurled from you and walked over to the other man who was still in a daze, staring straight ahead. “You will walk home now and not remember anything that happened from the moment you saw me approach you,” Jaehyun spoke to him, looking into his eyes intensely and if your own eyes weren’t playing a trick on you, Jaehyun’s eyes had turned a bright crimson color. He leaned into the other man again where his neck was still bleeding and when the man turned to leave and walk away, the area was clean. Instead Jaehyun’s lips were smeared with blood that he quickly wiped into his shirt. “What the fuck, Jaehyun?” You whispered, your voice sounding raw as if you hadn’t spoken in hours.

“I can explain this,” he repeated again, turning his palms towards you in surrender when he walked back over. “How can you explain this? You- That- That man was straight up hypnotized and behaved like an actual puppet. And that blood. This is crazy. I’m dreaming. That’s it right? Or someone must have slipped me something in the bar and I’m tripping right now. Because this looks an awful lot like you just sucked that guy’s blood like you’re a vampire and that’s crazy. Vampires aren’t real. And I’ve seen you walk around in the middle of the day. But then again, your hands are always cold and I couldn’t even scratch you with my nails and you have mad reflexes,” you started to spiral, the words just falling from your lips. “Hey, take a breath. A deep breath, here,” Jaehyun softly spoke, gently taking your hands and pressing the palms on his chest, taking a deep breath himself.   Even though you tried to breathe with him to calm down, you couldn’t help but notice that his fingers weren’t as cold as they had been before and that you couldn’t feel his heartbeat despite the fact that your palm was sitting right over his heart, just separated by his thin black shirt from the skin. “You… You don’t have a heartbeat,” you whispered, your eyes searching his that were a perfectly normal deep brown shade now while you pressed your palms down on his chest harder. “I don’t,” he spoke carefully, scanning your features for any changes, “I haven’t had one for a while.” “You aren’t breathing right now.” “I don’t need to. I keep forgetting.” “You… You’re forgetting to breathe?” “I usually do when I’m around humans but sometimes I forget.” “You say that as if you’re not…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too absurd. “As if I’m not human myself? I’m not. Not anymore.” “Then what are you?” “You’ve said it before, I’m a vampire,” he confessed.

“A vampire…” You repeated dumbfounded. It made sense, everything was adding up but this couldn’t be the explanation. Vampires were just made up. “And the others are too, they’re my coven. That’s why I didn’t want Johnny to talk to you.” “Would he have..?” Your eyes widened and one of your hands flew to your neck, covering where your pulse was fluttering beneath the skin. “I’m not going to hurt you, I could never,” Jaehyun whispered when he saw the fear in your eyes, gently cupping your face as if to prove his point. “I like you way too much to hurt you. And I won’t let anyone of the others even lay a finger on you.” Your eyes immediately flew to his lips that were still stained red when he leaned in even closer so you would be able to feel his breath mingling with yours if he was breathing. “I really want to kiss you right now, is that stupid?” The vampire whispered. “Don’t hurt me,” you whispered back, letting your eyes fall shut. “I could never,” he breathed before brushing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss that send sparks through your whole body. When Jaehyun felt you relax against him, your fingers uncurling from his shirt, he kissed you again, firmer this time, wrapping his arms tight around you as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

When you felt your head start to get light, you gently tapped his strong chest and he immediately retreated, looking at you with a worried expression. “One of us still needs to breathe,” you giggled breathless. “I’m sorry,” he smiled, carding his fingers through your hair, just watching you breathe for a moment, losing himself in your eyes.

“I have another secret to tell you,” Jaehyun broke the silence, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “I don’t think you can shock me anymore,” you smiled back. “I didn’t actually kill any of the plants I bought. I just needed to have a reason to keep seeing you. Our house looks like a jungle.” You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning into his (not moving) chest that rumbled with his low chuckle. “You’re cute,” you smiled, snaking your arms around his waist below his jacket, somehow not even missing the warmth that bodies usually gave off. “Shut up,” he chuckled, wrapping you up in a tight hug. “You want to know something else?” You whispered into his chest after a while. The vampire just hummed, gently swaying you. “I looked up what the rose meant that you bought when you first came into the shop… You wanna know what it stands for?” Jaehyun hummed again. “It stands for immortality.” This time it was Jaehyun who was laughing, holding your body tighter to steady himself.

[ukiyoart]

Soooo I wrote a kinda rough draft story based on my stardew character so here it is :D

Starts off with the beginning of Elliot’s story, then there’s the sound of a foghorn and it switches to Elliot, startled out of his focus. He looks out the window, but there is only gray (see what I did there hehe)

Then it’s Anni, sitting on the mountain with Sebastian. She feels happy as she leans against him and watches the twinkling lights of the far of city she used to live in. Sebastian lights a cigarette, which Anni tells him he should quit. He grumbles that she’s probably right, but smiles, puts it out and kisses her. And etc, something like the mountain scene.

Anni is at first only friends with Abigail, Sam and Sebastian who is her boyfriend. She’s also acquainted with Emily, though she’s mostly just friendly.

Elliot is friends with the old fisher living on the docks, and Leah, a fellow artist who likewise came out to the country to focus on her creative works.

Elliot has seen the new resident of Stardew Valley around, but never really spoken to her. But one day they bump into each other at the supermarket, quite literally. Anni apologizes for hitting him and Elliot says he’ll only forgive her if she gets coffee with him.

“I have a boyfriend...” she says deadpan, but he assured her he only needs a break from his writing and someone to share his ideas with. Anni agrees if he’s going to pay the bill.

So he asks her what kind of books she likes and they talk about books for a while.

The next time they run into each other, Elliot finds Anni drinking in the back corner off the bar, and asks if he can sit with her. She agrees. After a few verbal exchanges, he finally asks her what’s wrong. Slightly buzzed, she vents about paying the bills, and Elliot relates that the most he can afford is his shabby cabin on the beach, but it’s charming in its own way and it’s the perfect place for his writing. Anni thinks it seems like a nice place to live, far away from other people. Like her boyfriend, she says, then starts complaining about how he sometimes seems like he could care less about her. Elliot assures her that certainly can’t be true, to which Anni just shrugs and takes another swig of beer. Elliot orders a whiskey, and they both drink and laugh till the bar closes.

The next day Anni appears at Elliot’s door with a basket of Apricots, apologizing for her whining last night, and thanking him for talking with her all night. He smiles and says it’s no big deal, and thanks her for the fruit. He asks her where she got it, she sheepishly replies that she grew them. He smiles and invites her in, she politely refuses saying she’s got plans with her boyfriend

She goes to the fair with Sebastian and Sam and Abigail. They go on the Ferris wheel and several roller coasters. Finally at the end of the night, they all get ice cream and watch the boats light up the river. Everything seems wonderful, but when Anni gives him a little flower, he is unenthusiastic when he takes it, then runs to catch up with Sam and Abigail. Anni rationalizes he just doesn’t like flowers that much, which she already knew, then goes to catch up too. When she gets home she lies on her bed and looks up at the ceiling, her anxious thoughts catching up with her once again. Does he really hate flowers that much? It was only a joke! Or was it her that he was unenthusiastic about?

She asks Abigail about it, who only says that Sebastian is an independent person, and it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking.

Sam says not to worry about it.

Back to Elliot, he is hanging out with Leah at the beach. She’s painting, and he’s writing down ideas for his story. Leah asks him how his story is going, which he enthusiastically says he’s gotten some much needed inspiration. Leah asks where he got it from, and he asks if she knows the new girl from the city. Leah hasn’t really interacted with her either. Elliot tells her about their coffee trip, and mentions that she seemed genuinely interested in his book, and had some great ideas. But mostly, it was her that inspired one of his characters. Leah teases his admiration of her, which Elliot waves off by saying writers tend to romanticize everything. He goes back to writing and periodically staring out at the sea.

Leah, intrigued by Elliot’s description of her, seeks out Anni and introduces herself. They talk as they shop, then She asks what kind of things Anni likes. Anni isn’t sure how to answer, she starts off with staple things like board games, hanging out at the bar with friends, then gets more comfortable and says she enjoys gardening and watching the fog rise from her pond in the early hours of the morning when it’s still dark. Leah says she would love to paint it sometime, and suggests they go apple picking. Right now? Anni is surprised but goes. They talk a lot and start becoming good friends.

Later Anni and Abigail Sam and Sebastian are trying to figure out what to do, Anni low key suggests apple picking. Sebastian shuts her down, saying he doesn’t really enjoy being out in the sun. Abigail agrees, saying she doesn’t want to get a sunburn. Anni is a little disappointed, but doesnt show it. They decide to play pool at the bar, which Anni still thinks is fun so it lifts her mood a bit. She has a good time, and Sebastian buys her a drink and tells her he’s sorry if he seemed kind of rude earlier. Anni tell him it’s fine and thanks him for the drink.

The next day, Anni goes with Leah and Elliot to skip stones across the lake. Anni tells them about how her other friends didn’t seem very interested in apple picking. Leah points out that not all people are interested in the same things. Anni expresses that she shares a lot of interests with Sebastian, but she wishes he wasn’t so emo sometimes. She brings up how he barely sets foot in the sun, at least not without a hoodie over his face. Elliot says that it’s great to share interests with someone, but in the end it’s shared values that makes them a precious friend. So even though Sebastian will not always agree with you, as long as you share a view of what’s important, you’ll be okay. Anni smiles and says that’s good advice. They continue skipping stones, until Anni gets a text from Sebastian saying “come immediately it’s important!” She apologizes and says she has to go. After she leaves, Leah says Anni is so cute! And Elliot agrees that she really is a sweet person.

Anni gets to Sebastian’s house and finds him grinning in the wet grass with a frog in his hands. “This is the emergency???” Anni asks, puzzled. “I never said emergency” Sebastian laughs, then shows her to frog, explaining how he found it by a little puddle. Anni thinks it’s cute that he’s so excited, but tells him not to make her worry. Sebastian laughs and tells her if he’s ever in trouble, he’ll use all Caps. Anni shakes her head, but laughs.

Next day Anni is working at the coffee shop, Leah comes in and says she didn’t know Anni worked here. Anni explains that she didn’t, she just applied for part time the other day to help with the bills. Leah asks her what her main job is. Anni doesn’t want to say at first, but after some prodding she admits that she’s a farmer. Leah thinks it’s awesome and asks why she’s shy about it. Anni tells her how Sebastian and Abigail and Sam aren’t really country people, and it rarely comes up. Leah asks if Sebastian knows, Anni says he does, but he’s never really come to the farm. He probably thinks it’s just a family business I help out with. Leah is concerned, but Anni says that she doesn’t plan to be a farmer forever anyway, she’s taking an online course for computer science. She and Sebastian might even open up their own business someday. Leah still isn’t convinced, but leaves it alone.

Some stuff in here, Anni tells the squad she likes farming and they are supportive, she introduces them to Elliot and Leah, they do some fun stuff together and become friends. Elliot helps Anni realize there are some red flags in her relationship with Sebastian, not that he is bad but they just might not be the most compatible for the long term. Meanwhile, Anni starts to catch feelings for Elliot, and battles with her growing love for him and her attachment to Sebastian. With the help of Abigail and Leah, and even Sam, she gathers the courage to work it out with Sebastian, and they decide that they should break up. Things are tense between them for a little bit, they still want to be friends but Sebastian is hurt that Anni doesn’t love him anymore, and Anni wants to reassure him but isn’t sure how to make him understand. Elliot finds her crying and she tells him about their breakup, and how she doesn’t love Sebastian any less, she just has realized they would only be unhappy if they continued a romantic relationship. Elliot comforts and hugs her, reassuring her that he only needs time to come to terms with it, and with enough patience and understanding hopefully they can patch things up properly. Anni hugs him tightly, then looks up at him before kissing him on the cheek. Elliot is surprised, but thinks she’s just emotional because of her situation.

The next day Anni apologizes, slightly embarrassed. Elliot tells her it’s alright, that she’s going through a lot and he understands. Anni can’t tell if she’s grateful he didn’t think anything of it, that’s one less thing to worry about right now, but she’s also kind of disappointed he doesn’t think of her that way. She moves on and asks Sebastian if they can talk. He agrees, and she lets him know that she never fell out of love with him, she just realized they wouldn’t be very happy in a long term relationship. Sebastian expresses that he thought he just hadn’t done enough for her, and that was why she didn’t want to be with him anymore. He’s relieved that’s not the case. They seem to get along better after that.

After that Anni continues talking to Elliot a lot, but now their conversations are much more relaxed and not about drama, many are about books and places they would love to travel, etc. Elliot finishes his book, and everyone comes to listen to his reading. He thanks everyone for their support, and thanks Anni for agreeing to have coffee with him one day, without her he would never have thought to write what he did. Soon after, Elliot invites Anni to go with him on his rowboat after he fixed it. Anni agrees, and they talk about his book for a while. Elliot starts to thank her again, then starts acting a little flustered and confused. For once I don’t have the right words.. he says... for the way I feel about you. He ends up kissing her on the cheek to convey his affections, asking her if she feels the same way. Anni happily agrees, and they share a kiss.

Soon after they start dating, making it publicly known. Abigail, Leah and Sam are supportive. Sebastian tried hard to be okay with it, but he resents Elliot.

They all go for a picnic by the lake. Sebastian acts defensive and rude around Elliot, and Anni is upset. She goes to talk to him, worried that she’s hurting him and sad that he can’t get along with Elliot. Elliot stops her, and says to let him talk to Sebastian. Anni is reluctant, but Elliot says that she doesn’t need to fix everything herself, and he wants to help. He goes and talks to Sebastian. Sebastian is annoyed at first, but after realizing Elliot truly loves Anni, he admits that he wants Anni to be happy, even if it means she isn’t by his side. Elliot suggests he let Anni know, so that she can be free of worry and released from her romantic ties to him. Sebastian ponders this for a moment, then frustratedly says he doesn’t want to let her go yet and storms off. Abigail walks up next to Elliot and says she’ll talk to Sebastian. She goes off, then returns with him, motioning him over too Anni. He pulls her away privately and tells her that he still loves her, but he can see that she’ll be a lot happier with Elliot. Anni hugs him and thanks him for understanding. Sebastian hesitates, then embraces her back for a moment, before she pulls away and takes his hand, beckoning him back to the rest of the group. Sebastian tells Elliot to treat her better than he could have. Elliot laughs and agrees, then goes over to Anni and hugs her from behind. Sebastian watches wistfully, but smiles and looks towards Abigail, who nods approvingly.

And so on and so forth, a happy ending :)

[brideofedoras]

Happy Birthday, John Kennex

In honor of Karl Urban’s birthday, I wrote a little birthday fic to go along with Soulbound.  John Kennex’s birthday is June 7, 2007.

Disclaimer: I only own my OCs

Word count: 1900+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: brief mentions of anxiety, asthma and self harm

-1-

Emily smiled and waved to the nurses on duty as she walked by the nurses’ station.  Sara was on duty, she noted, rolling her eyes when the woman winked at her.  She clutched the little malachite dragon she carried a little tighter in her right hand before letting herself into John’s room.

Her heart stuttered in her chest when she saw the detective, still unconscious.  Someone had shaved off his stubble earlier and had given his dark brown hair a trim. 

She had to swallow a few times before she managed to find her voice.  “I… I, uh… have it on good authority that today is your birthday,” she blushed when she realized her voice sounded a little on the breathy side.  Oh, lord…  At least I’m not wheezing.  “The big Four-O,” she placed the dragon on the bedside table next to the photograph of John and his partner, Marty Pelham, and Marty’s wife Maria and son Marty Junior.  “But don’t worry,” her breathy voice took on a teasing tone.  “I won’t tell anyone your real age.  Sandy and I will keep it a secret.”

She busied herself with her normal routine upon arriving for her daily visits.  She straightened his blanket over his chest, smoothed her hands over his chest and arms to make sure the wrinkles were out, grounding herself to keep her anxiety at bay.  She blushed when she felt his heartbeat kick a little harder when her palm brushed over his chest.  “I’m beginning to think you really enjoy my visits even though I’m the most boring and awkward visitor you’ve got,” she teased.  “Yeah, I know.  I shouldn’t talk down on myself like I do but I am awkward and I’m sure what I talk about is boring.”

Finally, she squeezed his fingers and ran her fingers through his shorter hair.  “I miss the scruff,” she admitted softly as she traced her fingertips along his smooth jaw.  Her blush darkened when she realized she’d spoken out loud this time.  “Oh, god, don’t mind me,” she giggled nervously.  “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.  I…”  She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it.  “You look very nice when you’re clean-shaven, but you also look pretty hot when you’re scruffy,” she confessed with a half-sigh, half-whisper.  “I…  I don’t know why I find it so easy to talk to you, to admit things that I know I’d never be able to say out loud if you were actually awake… much less be able to open up to anyone else...  I…  I probably would never be able to talk to you if you were conscious…  I mean, I’m…  I’m nobody.  And you’re…  You’re you.  You probably wouldn’t even give me a second thought,” she turned away from the bed to walk over to the window.  “I’m such a painfully shy and awkward person with anxiety and asthma, no one looks twice at me as it is,” she wrapped her arms around her stomach before she growled at herself.  “I’m sorry, ignore me.  I’m just…  I know I’m hard on myself,” she admitted quietly.  “It’s your birthday.  I’m supposed to be happy and in a celebratory mood, but you already know how I feel about birthdays.  But I am happy, in a way.  I’m hanging out with the best-looking guy in the world, even if he doesn’t know I exist.”  She returned to the bed and leaned down.  “Happy birthday, John,” she whispered before kissing his cheek.  “I brought you a present.  I know I didn’t have to, but after I accidentally caught a glimpse of the tattoo on your arm I knew what I would get you for your birthday or Christmas.  I like dragons, but I prefer the European ones to the Chinese ones.  I found a Chinese dragon carved in malachite at a shop near campus and had to get it for you.  It’s really pretty.”  She moved away from the bed to sit down in the chair.  “So…  I’m thinking about applying for an internship through the Synthetic Dispatch Division.  Dr. Lom is open to taking on an intern.  I’m scared to death I won’t get the internship if I do apply, but I won’t know unless I try, right?  I haven’t talked to Sandy about it, not yet.  We’re meeting for drinks later at McQuade’s.”

She grew quiet as she watched his chest rise and fall with each breath he took.  “Maybe someday we could go out for a drink after you wake up.”  When she realized what she’d said, she quickly backpedalled, stammering and blushing hard before she could string a coherent sentence together.  “I…  I really need to shut up, huh?  Not go out like as in a date or something like that, I could only ever dream of going on a date with you.”  She blushed harder and smacked her hands over her face.  “Shit.  God, Emily, you’re such a damned idiot!”  She cussed at herself.  “Drinks between friends.”

She scrubbed her hands over her face.  “You’ve come to mean a lot to me in such a short period of time already,” she reached for his hand.  “You let me ramble and babble when I get nervous or anxious and somehow I feel much calmer when I hold your hand.  And I’ve rambled and babbled a lot already today.”  She took a deep breath and grimaced when she wheezed.  “It’s a beautiful day out today.  Couldn’t ask for prettier skies.  The sunrise this morning was gorgeous…”

-2-

Thunder rattled the windows of the hospital room.  Must be storming.  Dammit.  Emily better not be out driving in this.  I want her here but I don’t want her to get into a wreck either.  Sam, I hope you and Lizzie are watching over your daughter, please don’t let anything happen to her.  She has no idea how much she means to me.

Another rumble of thunder rattled the windows, drowning out the whoosh of the door sliding open.  The scent of vanilla cupcakes reached him and he breathed an internal sigh of relief.

Emily was safe.  She was there.

The door swooshed open again, followed by the scent of raspberries.  Sara, his favorite nurse.  She was nice, always talking to him when she was checking on him.  Always making sure he had the softer blankets or more supportive pillow.  “Here’s the towels you requested, Em.”

“Thanks, Sara, I don’t want Karen or Tim hollering at me for dripping all over the room,” Emily’s voice was filled with light-hearted amusement.

Sara laughed.  “They won’t holler, Em.  Karen will give you the look and chastise you before she hugs you, and Tim is such a good-natured soul.  They’ll chalk it up to job security.  Anything else you need?”

“Nah, thank you, I’ll holler if I do.”

The door swooshed open and shut again, leaving him alone with Emily.  He listened to the gentle rustle of fabric, towel maybe, before the sound of a raincoat being shrugged off reached his ears.  

“Hi, John,” her voice sounded a little regretful.  “I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise.  I’m dripping all over the place and don’t want the housekeeping staff to worry about my coat and boots dripping all over.”  Her voice strained before he heard the slide of two zippers.  “It’s nasty out today.  The storm didn’t hit until I was halfway here.”

Should’ve stopped somewhere to wait it out, Sweetheart, I don’t want you risking your life just to spend time with me.

“I know, I could’ve pulled off to wait it out but it hasn’t let up at all and I didn’t want to sit in my car in a sketchy parking lot,” her hands brushed his chest as she straightened the blankets.

His heart thumped harder when he felt her palm settle over it.  Good call.  But I still don’t want you driving in a storm, Emily.  I’m not worth you getting hurt.

“I couldn’t miss my favorite guy’s birthday today,” her breath puffed over his cheek before her plush lips pressed against the stubble.

Favorite guy, huh?  Sweetheart…  He wished he could turn his head, to feel her soft lips on his.  He settled for feeling her smile curve on his cheek instead.

“Happy birthday, John.  Whenever you wake up you’re going to have a lot of cards and a few gifts,” the chair scraped closer to the bed.  Her hand curled around his.  “Just because you’re in a coma doesn’t mean anyone who loves you can get away with ignoring birthdays and holidays.  Sandy’s got a box she’s putting them in for you.  I didn’t bring a gift with me today, it’s at Sandy’s.  I wasn’t about to bring it with me.”  Her breath hitched on a wheeze.  “I finally worked up the courage to go through Daddy’s stuff and found a few guitars I never knew he had.  Sandy told me you collect guitars, that you play a little, and I asked her if maybe I should give them to you.  They’re vintage, from the 1970s and 80s.  Or would they be considered antiques?  I don’t know.  They’re beautiful, though.  One’s an acoustic and the others are electric.  Daddy even had sheet music for some of the old classic rock songs.  I sent those over with the guitars.”

Sweetheart, they’re your dad’s, you should keep them.

“I don’t have the room in my apartment for them, I don’t want for them to remain in their cases tucked away in a closet.  They’re meant to be picked up and played and proudly displayed.  I don’t know how to play, other than random strumming that sounds god awful.  I never was musically-inclined growing up, I would’ve taken the amp apart to see how it works and if I could improve it,” she laughed softly.  “Maybe that’s why Daddy had them in storage, to keep me from doing just that.  I…  I would like to learn how to at least play a few chords, though.”

I could teach you.  Not that hard.  I’ll get a guitar in your hands and sit behind you, wrap my arms around you to guide your hands.  He groaned.  Slow down, Kennex, he warned himself when he felt arousal stirring in his belly just from the image in his head.  Dammit.

Her fingers laced through his.  “I hope you will like them.”

I already do, Sweetheart…

-3-

The gentle press of soft, plush lips on his woke him up.  John groaned, wrapping his arms around Emily.  “Mornin’, Baby,” he murmured before deepening the kiss.  

She braced her hands against his shoulder and shoved.  “You’re ruining the moment!”  She giggled when he pinned her beneath him and attacked her neck with voracious kisses.  “John!”

He lifted his head.  “You started it by kissing me awake, Baby.”  He frowned when tears glistened in her baby blue eyes.  “Emily?”

“I get to look into your eyes this time when I say it,” her voice cracked as a tear slipped down her temple into her dark hair.  “Happy birthday, John.”

John cupped her cheek and brushed the tear away with his thumb.  “Baby, don’t start cryin’ on me,” he chastised gently, shifting onto his back and tucking her to his side.  “What are your plans today?”

“We’re not going to spend your birthday with you in bed and me in a chair holding your hand,” she retorted.

“How ‘bout we both spend the day in bed?”

She giggled.  “John!”

“It’s my birthday, can’t I pick how we spend the day?”  He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“What about your birthday cupcakes or breakfast or your present--”

He hauled her on top of him and silenced her protest with a kiss.  “Later.  Much… much later,” he growled between kisses.

[ofkleins]

        𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠  here  and  do  i  have  the  tea  for  you  .  ariana  is  back  on  campus  ,  which  is  surprising  considering  the  threatening  note  i  left  them  .  yes  ,  i  know  all  about  how  despite  outward  appearances  ,  her  family  isn’t  as  picture  perfect  as  they  may seem  because  of  their  pride  .  imagine  the  tabloids  and  how  the  malabanan  family  would  feel  for  such  information  to  come  out  ,  not  to  mention  the  reputation  of  delta  because  of  their  actions  .  at  this  rate  ,  she  is  better  off  staying  put  in  beverly  hills  ,  california  and  living  off  that  $625m  family  net  worth  .  what’s  the  point  in  studying  applied  economics  and  management  with  plans  to  take  over  her  mother’s  abandoned  executive  position  at  her  family’s  company  ,  is  it  worth  it  with  what  i  know  ?  anyways  ,  they  may  want  to  continue  to  be  genteel  &  cosmopolitan  because  the  disingenuous  &  acrimonious  attributes  make  me  want  to  spill  .  (  kelsey  merritt  ,  remy  ,  eastern  )  .

          hello  again  my  angels  !  it’s  remy  here  with  my  second  bby  ,  miss  ariana  !  i’ll  keep  this  greeting  short  since  my  one  over  on  christian  is  a  bit  lengthy  ,  but  i’m  super  excited  to  write  and  plot  with  everyone  !  i  will  admit  that  ariana’s  intro  is  a  bit  lengthy  because  i  pay  a  little  too  much  to  details  ,  and  i  also  placed  indicators  for  where  the  eating  disorder  trigger  warning  begins  and  ends  if  you  choose  to  skip  over  that  content  .  other  than  that  ,  once  again  my  discord  is  𝕥𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚 𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐚#6936  if  plotting  is  easier  for  you  there  ,  and  i  can’t  wait  to  get  the  ball  rolling  !

trigger  warning(s)  :  mention  of  drug  addiction  ,  eating  disorder  ,  and  abusive  parenting  .

full  name  :  ariana  bernadette  malabanan  . nickname(s)  :  ari ,  mainly  .  birthday  /  age  :  august  30th  ,  1998  /  21  . zodiac  :  virgo  . pronouns  :  she  /  her  /  hers  . gender  :  cisfemale  . sexual  orientation  : bisexual  . romantic  orientation  : biromantic  . height  :  5′8″  ( five  foot  ,  eight  inches  )  . hometown  :  paris  ,  france  . current  location  :  beverly  hills  ,  california  . nationality  :  french - american  . ethnicity  :  caucasian  and  filipina  . languages  spoken  :  filipino  ,  english  ,  and  french  (  college - course  level  )  .

         daniel  malabanon’s  family  immigrated  to  the  united  states  back  in  the  nineteenth  century  from  their  home  country  of  the  phillippines  .  through  the  decades  ,  despite  the  trials  and  tribulations  ,  the  malabanon  family  rose  through  the  ranks  of  politics  and  business  ,  with  daniel’s  grandparents  having  ten  children  between  the  two  of  them  .  the  malabanon  family  as  they  became  more  influential  in  american  politics  was  also  building  their  business  empire  .  while  daniel’s  grandfather  was  pursuing  the  levels  of  politics  from  law  school  ,  his  wife  was  pursuing  business  ,  with  the  dream  of  someday  having  her  own  cosmetics  line  .

          as  the  decades  passed  and  the  malabanon  family  amassed  their  meager  beginnings  to  becoming  a  part  of  the  country’s  elite  ,  soon  comes  grandson  daniel  ,  who  decides  to  follow  in  his  father  ,  uncle  ,  and  brothers’  footsteps  of  going  into  politics  .  smart  in  his  own  right  ,  daniel  heads  off  to  the  prestigious  university  of  pennsylvania  ,  where  he  pursued  a  degree  in  political  science  before  eventually  moving  on  to  law  school  .  of  course  ,  the  malabanon  name  was  known  throughout  the  country  ,  but  daniel  didn’t  receive  any  special  treatment  while  he  was  in  college  .  after  graduation  ,  he  keeps  his  head  in  the  books  as  he  gets  his  law  degree  from  yet  another  prestigious  university  (  columbia  )  ,  and  it’s  in  new  york  city  that  daniel  meets  his  future  wife  ,  wild  child  of  a  multi - billionaire  named  celine  duverney  .

         made  up  of  messy  ,  blonde  waves  and  the  liquid  courage  of  champagne  while  dancing  on  tables  ,  celine  was  the  youngest  daughter  of  a  billionaire  family  that  wanted  to  enjoy  her  twenties  despite  the  pressure  from  her  parents  .  she  was  determined  to  live  her  own  life  ,  and  even  though  she  was  getting  what  she  deemed  a  useless  degree  in  business  administration  ,  that  didn’t  stop  celine  from  enjoying  her  life  to  the  fullest  .  she  spent  summers  on  yachts  off  the  shores  of  a  tropical  island  or  would  splurge  in  neiman  marcus  simply  because  her  professor  told  her  one  of  her  papers  wasn’t  good  enough  .  while  she  was  in  college  ,  celine  was  a  kappa  ,  and  it  fit  the  blonde  well  considering  that  she  was  rich  ,  spoiled  ,  and  made  sure  that  everyone  around  her  was  fully  aware  that  she  was  getting  dropped  off  at  school  in  a  rolls - royce  and  never  (  absolutely  refused  )  to  eat  dining  hall  food  .

          when  it  came  to  daniel  and  celine’s  relationship  ,  the  two  started  dating  while  daniel  was  in  his  first  year  of  law  school  and  celine  was  a  junior  .  their  relationship  was  a  bit  of  a  whirlwind  ,  and  they  eventually  eloped  in  a  simple  wedding  on  the  beach  in  bali  the  summer  after  celine’s  graduation  .  little  did  the  couple  know  ,  is  that  at  the  time  ,  celine  was  pregnant  with  their  first  baby  and  eldest  son  dominic  .  celine  decides  to  be  a  stay  at  home  mom  while  daniel  moves  through  the  ranks  at  a  prestigious  law  firm  moving  from  summer  associate  to  senior  associate  ,  but  daniel  wanted  to  be  congressman  .  a  few  more  years  pass  ,  a  second  baby  named  naomi  is  soon  born  ,  the  family  has  made  the  cross  country  move  to  california  ,  and  daniel  is  running  for  congressman  of  california  .  

          the  family  settled  into  a  gorgeous  home  on  sunset  boulevard  . 

          after  running  for  often  twice  and  getting  beat  by  a  landslide  the  first  time  around  ,  daniel  is  elected  as  senator  and  celine  begrudgingly  becomes  thrust  into  the  public  eye  and  is  under  constant  scrutiny  .  the  malabanans  are  newcomers  to  the  world  of  politics  in  this  sense  ,  as  they’re  no  longer  skirting  around  the  edges  and  waiting  to  have  their  chance  at  all  the  glory  .  marriage  and  children  had  calmed  celine’s  wild  ways  ,  but  when  she  was  twenty - nine  and  their  last  daughter  ,  a  bright  eyed  baby  they  named  ariana  was  brought  into  the  picture  ,  everything  changed  for  the  worst  .

          to  naomi  and  dominic  ,  celine  was  a  wonderful  mother  .  she  baked  cookies  ,  they  hung  out  by  the  pool  ,  she  helped  them  with  their  homework  ,  but  as  little  ariana  grew  up  ,  she  was  not  the  apple  of  her  mother’s  eye  .  the  first  strike  against  her  was  the  fact  that  she  was  born  via  c - section  due  to  a  complicated  pregnancy  ,  leaving  her  mother  with  an  ugly  scar  that  remains  to  this  day  .  she  was  born  in  paris  while  the  family  was  on  vacation  ,  actually  coming  two  months  before  she  was  due  .  celine  was  annoyed  with  being  stuck  in  paris  as  she  waited  for  her  daughter  to  grow  stronger  ,  and  that  was  the  second  strike  against  the  innocent  child  .  being  in  the  public  eye  because  of  her  husband’s  job  made  celine  quite  conscious  of  all  things  appearance  ,  and  made  sure  that  she  and  her  children  never  left  the  house  with  a  hair  out  of  place  or  a  shirt  untucked  .  naomi  ,  the  golden  child  to  her  mother  ,  immediately  began  participating  in  beauty  pageants  while  her  dominic  followed  his  calling  and  focused  on  academia  like  the  men  before  him  .

          little  ariana  liked  to  play  ,  and  she  liked  to  play  hard  .  she  wanted  to  play  soccer  in  the  rain  with  the  other  neighborhood  kids  and  roll  down  grassy  hills  until  her  skin  was  itchy  ,  but  her  mother  ?  she  wasn’t  having  any  of  that  .  ari  was  going  to  be  prim  ,  proper  -- her  back  would  be  so  straight  a  ruler  would  be  jealous  ,  and  those  soccer  cleats  her  father  bought  her  were  thrown  into  the  trash  and  replaced  with  ballet  slippers  .  for  years  ,  ariana  was  no  longer  the  only  malabanan  kid  who  played  with  the  others  in  the  neighborhood  ,  and  she  now  had  a  strict  schedule  of  working  out  ,  school  ,  ballet  ,  and  studying  at  the  tender  age  of  thirteen  .  when  her  freshman  year  starts  ,  though  ,  ariana  abandons  her  mother’s  dream  and  trades  the  ballet  slippers  for  a  pair  of  cheerleading  pom - poms  .  with  her  infectious  personality  and  warm  smile  ,  it’s  no  surprise  that  ariana  makes  the  coveted  harvard - westlake  cheerleading  team  .

          and  while  most  mothers  would  be  proud  of  their  daughter’s  accomplishment  ,  celine  was  more  focused  on  her  daughter’s  appearance  than  anything  else  .  TW BEGINS  she  limits  what  she  could  and  couldn’t  eat  ,  often  making  snide  remarks  when  ariana  says  how  much  she’s  craving  her  favorite  cheeseburger  from  shake  shack  or  how  she  had  a  bit  of  cheesecake  after  dinner  .  celine  wakes  her  daughter  up  at  five  in  the  morning  with  a  hellish  personal  trainer  that  makes  her  run  their  expansive  neighborhood  until  her  lungs  are  tight  and  she’s  gasping  for  air  .  breakfast  is  smoothies  ,  lunch  is  only  soup  ,  and  even  then  all  the  good  things  that  ariana  craves  have  been  taken  out  .  she  has  to  be  skinny  --  she  has  to  make  her  mother  proud  .

          the  lack  of  food  during  the  day  leads  to  binging  in  the  night  ,  tip - toeing  to  the  kitchen  with  the  aid  of  the  housekeeper  ,  who  kept  a  hidden  stash  in  a  cabinet  her  mother  never  dared  to  open  .  binges  turn  to  regret  ,  tear  stained  cheeks  and  the  horrid  sound  of  ariana  hunched  over  the  toilet  as  she  begs  to  be  forgiven  for  the  disappointment  she  would  bring  to  her  mother  .  it  all  comes  to  a  head  during  ariana’s  junior  year  ,  when  she’s  gained  an  ounce  of  her  mother’s  affection  and  dark  circles  that  are  hidden  beneath  luxury  concealer  ,  and  it’s  the  annual  homecoming  football  game  .  dinner  consisted  of  four  baby  carrots  and  a  bottle  of  water  ,  and  right  as  ariana  is  lifted  into  the  air  to  perform  a  basket  toss  ,  she’s  falling  --  and  she  lands  on  the  unforgiving  ground  with  a  sneer  on  celine’s  face  as  she  watches  behind  saint  laurent  sunglasses  .

          ariana  goes  to  the  hospital  and  is  diagnosed  with  bulimia  ,  a  word  that  clouds  her  in  a  cloak  of  embarrassment  and  springs  tears  in  her  father’s  eyes  .  celine  is  uncaring  ,  picking  at  her  hundred  dollar  manicure  instead  of  caring  for  the  daughter  she  allegedly  loved  so  much  --  at  least  ,  that’s  what  she  said  when  she  spoke  to  the  media  .  ariana  is  pulled  from  harvard - westlake  ,  sadly  for  her  senior  year  ,  and  begins  the  slow  process  of  healing  .  her  relationship  with  food  becomes  healthy  again  ,  and  she  cries  when  she  has  cheesecake  ,  her  favorite  thing  in  the  world  ,  when  she  returns  home  .  TW  ENDS

          she  makes  the  decision  to  head  off  to  college  ,  putting  all  of  her  eggs  into  one  basket  when  she  only  applies  to  hollingsworth  university  .  she’s  desperate  to  get  from  under  her  mother’s  criticizing  eye  ,  and  to  finally  be  her  own  person  .  during  freshman  year  ,  ariana  pledges  kappa  in  hopes  that  she’d  make  a  dent  in  her  tainted  relationship  with  her  mother  ,  but  nothing  ever  seems  to  work  in  her  favor  .  she  makes  it  through  rush  week  and  becomes  a  pledge  for  the  society  ,  bouncing  on  the  balls  of  her  feet  when  she’s  chosen  on  bid  day  .  all  goes  well  until  it’s  time  for  a  little  bit  of  hazing  ,  but  ariana  finds  herself  with  the  short  end  of  the  stick  .  she  has  to  clean  longer  ,  take  one  more  shot  ,  staying  awake  an  extra  hour  while  the  other  pledges  have  gone  to  bed  ,  and  being  utterly  humiliated  when  her  kappa  sisters  discover  that  she  had  an  innocent  crush  on  a  boy  from  sigma  .

          ariana  drops  out  of  kappa  and  goes  the  rest  of  the  semester  stewing  in  her  upset  over  the  pure  humiliation  she  was  forced  to  endure  .  when  the  spring  semester  rolls  around  ,  ariana  still  carries  that  torch  as  she  steps  into  the  delta  house  looking  for  a  fresh  start  ,  and  it’s  the  society  where  she  remains  today  .  she’s  in  the  college  of  business  and  is  also  a  cheerleader  ,  even  though  most  would  assume  it  harbors  too  heavy  feelings  ,  but  her  constant  work  in  therapy  has  helped  her  regain  her  love  for  the  sport  again  .

          when  it  comes  to  ariana’s  personality  ,  she’s  something  of  a  spitfire  .  she’s  not  afraid  of  confrontation  and  she  can  be  extremely  petty  at  times  .  for  her  positive  traits  genteel  and  cosmopolitan  ,  ariana  is  respectable  when  she  needs  to  be  (  like  attending  galas  with  her  family  or  when  she  debuted  at  the  debutante  ball  in  new  york  city  )  and  since  her  family  traveled  as  well  as  met  dignitaries  around  the  world  a  lot  thanks  to  her  father’s  career  ,  ariana  is  quite  sophisticated  and  she  carries  herself  as  such  .  as  for  her  negative  traits  disingenuous  and  acrimonious  ,  it  simply  means  that  she  will  fake  the  funk  sometimes  in  order  to  get  something  she  wants  .  her  disingenuous  ways  especially  shows  when  she’s  being  petty  ,  and  she’ll  pretend  to  not  know  the  full  story  to  either  a .  confront  the  other  person  with  the  facts  or  b .  gather  up  as  much  information  as  she  possibly  can  .  as  for  being  acrimonious  ,  it  means  that  ari  is  bitter  as  hell  ,  especially  when  talking  about  kappa  .

secret  .

when  it  comes  to  her  secret  about  her  family  ,  the  malabanan’s  are  similiar  to  the  kennedy’s  in  the  sense  that  they’re  the  ‘  perfect  ’  family  with  no  issues  ,  on  the  surface  .  in  reality  ,  celine  leaves  daniel  frequently  and  jets  off  on  exotic  excursions  with  billionaires  she  just  met  ,  trying  to  get  back  what  she  lost  because  of  marriage  and  children  .  dominic  has  fallen  into  a  drug  addiction  he  thinks  no  one  has  noticed  ,  and  naomi  is  off  doing  whatever  it  is  she’s  doing  .  despite  that  ,  their  friends  and  extended  family  always  gets  the  perfect  holiday  cards  when  the  season  rolls  around  and  they’re  always  written  as  ‘  family  goals  ’  on  either  instagram  or  twitter  .

short  headcanons  :

ariana  lives  off - campus  and  in  a  gorgeous  apartment  (  minus  that  ugly  blue  bed  lol  )  .

she  drives  a  black  porsche  panamera  ,  and  she  originally  wanted  a  ferrari  ,  but  she  threw  a  minor  fit  when  her  dad  said  no  .  eventually  ,  she  got  over  it  .

her  style  ?  is  literally  all  over  the  place  .  one  day  she’ll  be  wearing  all  black  with  a  leather  jacket  ,  another  day  she’s  dressed  like  a  carbon  copy  of  outfits  on  pinterest  ,  and  on  another  she’s  wearing  high  heels  and  a  midi - skirt  .  there’s  no  in  between  for  her  ,  but  you  better  believe  that  everything  is  designer  ,  even  down  to  her  hair  accessories  .

she’s  most  comfortable  in  her  home  ,  and  there’s  a  chance  that  when  she’s  home  she’s  blaring  music  .  she’ll  be  in  a  giant  shirt  with  her  hair  tugged  up  in  a  top  knot  .

her  favorite  food  is  a  shackburger  with  cheese  fries  and  a  creamsicle  float  .  she  is  absolutely  obsessed  with  cheesecake  in  any  and  all  forms  .

wanted  plots  :

i  think  a  roommates  plot  would  be  so  much  fun  !  ariana  can  be  hella  standoffish  at  times  ,  but  she’s  probably  the  best  roommate  out  there  .

umm  ...  👀  i  don’t  know  about  you  guys  but  i’m  in  love  with  angsty  plots  ,  so  i’d  love  anything  like  that  .  whether  it  be  exes  ,  something  toxic  ,  or  even  a  friendship  that  turned  sour  ,  i’d  be  down  for  all  of  it  .

high  !  school  !  plots  !  i’d  really  love  to  explore  ariana’s  life  outside  of  her  struggles  ,  so  i’d  love  to  high  school  boyfriend  or  girlfriend  ,  crushes  ,  friends  ,  enemies  ...  anything  !

a  tag  full  of  desired  relations  (  which  will  be  updated  periodically  !  )  can  be  found  right  here  .  i’m  also  down  to  go  based  off  chemistry  if  that  works  best  for  you  !  i  also  have  a  desired  relations  tag  for  christian  but  i  forgot  to  link  it  ! 

[etraytin]

What’s Your Favorite Chapter?

Hey all! I’ve been pretty caught up in applying for the bar exam for the last few days, but I’m also still archiving the JDFF list and trying to work on my WIPs as well. Busy, busy! Anyway, I was rereading some of my old stuff when it occurred to me that sometimes we don’t see peoples’ best stuff because it’s buried in the middle of stories that are too long for the time we have or that we aren’t sure we’d like the plot of. And that’s a shame. 

So all you authors who follow me, here’s a challenge! Find your favorite chapter of one of your long fics, then post it on Tumblr along with just enough background that we can follow it, plus a link to the story it came from. I don’t want to miss out any more! 

Here’s mine, it’s Chapter Six of my West Wing story Such A Winter’s Day, which is a rewrite of Seasons Six and Seven (and after) with the idea that instead of joining the Russell campaign after Impact Winter, Donna asked Sam to help her get out of DC entirely. Without Donna in the campaign mix, of course, everything unfolds quite a bit differently for our heroes. But this chapter, near the beginning, is mostly just the story of Bisexual Disaster Human Josh Lyman. 

Chapter Six: Interlude One, Been Thinkin’ About My Home 

Contrary to popular opinion, Josh Lyman was neither clueless nor even particularly obtuse when it came to the emotions of others. Nobody got to the top in backroom politics without an innate ability to size up another person and understand what they needed, what was most important to them, what they would sacrifice for and what they would never give up. Sure, a lot of times he simply didn't care what his opponents were feeling, but that didn't make him unaware. When it came to the people he was closest to, he'd always understood more than they'd thought. It just hadn't been enough to let him keep them from slipping away.

Sam, god, Sam. He'd known Sam forever, it seemed, back in a time when they were barely politicians, barely adults at all, finding their way around Washington DC for the first time and trying to figure out the people they wanted to be for the rest of their lives. Sam had been just as beautiful then as now, dark hair and sculpted face and impossible blue eyes that lit up with every new challenge. They'd made friends at the office and would go out together to blow off steam, pick up women, get irresponsibly drunk and talk about how someday they would cut through all the bullshit and change the face of politics forever. Sometimes they'd find women to take home, sometimes they'd bring along whoever they were dating at the time. Twice, just twice in three years, they'd gotten drunk enough to take each other home and wound up in Sam's bed together. But it was the eighties, and people could experiment, and they'd nervously laughed off both those times and never really talked about it afterwards. It didn't mean Josh didn't remember.

But then Josh had gone to the whip's office and Sam had gone to New York, and though they called each other after important votes or Mets games, it wasn't the same anymore. That was how it happened, Josh had figured, and ignored the pang in his chest that might have been lost chances. Sam had dated, mostly upwardly-mobile professional women looking for suitable marriage partners. Josh had dated, mostly Washington insiders with sharp smiles and quick minds who were looking for a power husband who would one day sit in important rooms. There had been Lisa, and there had been Mandy, and then there had been a day when Leo McGarry asked a favor from the son of an old friend, and then there was Sam, looking ridiculously polished in his thousand dollar suit but with the same impossibly blue eyes and goofy grin. He'd left Sam behind and gotten on the train to Nashua, but “Josh, what are you doing?” echoed in his head the entire time. When he'd watched Jed Bartlet speak and realized what kind of president he could be, he was back on the train to New York before the rubber chicken was fully coagulated in the pans.

Working with his best friend again had been amazing, infusing Josh with the energy to run a no-money, no-sleep campaign for a candidate who couldn't even remember the names of his closest advisors from day to day. With Sam around, he had a partner in crime, someone to bounce ideas off, someone to take his own pragmatic make-the-sausage politics and turn it into something beautiful and full of the ideals Josh was a little afraid to even say aloud. And sometimes he'd meet Sam's eyes across the room, but there was Lisa (for awhile) and Mandy (until there wasn't), and neither of them were naive or reckless anymore. They'd won the election, gotten the chance to change the world that they'd always talked about. Josh knew that doing anything to risk that chance would've been crazy, but sometimes when he would watch Sam get worked up and start making passionate speeches to anybody who'd listen, he had wondered if maybe a political genius could figure out a way.

During the celebration after the first State of the Union, Leo had clapped Josh on the shoulder while they watched Sam and Toby celebrate their own speechwriting. “You'll have my job one day,” he'd told Josh conversationally. “You'll have to kick Sam's ass around the block a few times until he's ready, but it'll happen. That'll be the day, won't it?” He'd given his hoarse bark of a laugh and wandered away then, leaving Josh with his jaw on the floor and such an overwhelming feeling of pressure in his chest that for a moment he'd wondered if he was having a heart attack at thirty-eight. Pride, there was incredible pride in knowing that Leo was right, that this could really happen. Anxiety, plenty of that, over the fifty million things that Josh would have to do in order to make that happen. And loss, amorphous, nebulous, not to be examined, over something that had never really existed in the first place.

Josh had still felt the weight of Sam's gaze on him from time to time, sometimes from halfway across the West Wing, sometimes from inches away, but he didn't look up to meet it anymore. Sam was going to be president someday, but not if Josh let the things they didn't talk about turn into a noose around Sam's neck. If Josh could just ignore those looks and those thoughts, then it would be just like they didn't exist, and he and Sam could be best friends like they'd always been. Except it didn't work out that way. Not meeting Sam's long looks had slowly turned into not going out alone with Sam for drinks, turned into not talking to Sam the way he used to because he kept choking on all the things he couldn't say. He'd send Donna to talk to Sam instead, then close himself off alone in his office, an unlikely figure for a Jewish martyr.

And Donna, of course there was Donna too. Josh had still been finding his feet on the campaign trail, stumbling around with Mandy, tiptoeing around Sam, when he'd walked into his office one day and run straight into another pair of impossible blue eyes. Donna was fresh off the farm and fresh out of a bad relationship, achingly vulnerable but at the same time so brave it had made his heart clench. He'd thought it had taken courage to leave Hoynes and join the Bartlet campaign, but he'd never in a million years have had the guts to pack his whole life in an old car and drive halfway across the country for the possibility of a job that paid nothing but might change his life. Technically he'd been doing her a favor, taking her on and giving her his staff badge, but in the moment it had felt like giving her nothing more than a deserved acknowledgment. Then she'd given him her sun-bright smile for the first time, making his heart clench even harder, and he'd wondered what he was getting himself into here.

From almost the first day, he'd fallen into a synchronicity with Donna that bordered on the eerie. Her office skills were basic and her political knowledge all but nonexistent, but she had a quick mind and such strong intuition that she usually seemed to know what he meant before he even finished saying it. There were whispers on the campaign because she was beautiful and so young, but he'd deliberately chosen not to notice those things about her. Didn't he have enough problems already? In any case, the fact that she'd managed to whip his disastrous office into shape had quieted any naysayers, especially after the way he'd fallen to pieces during her brief failure of resolve back in Wisconsin. By the time they'd stepped into the Operations bullpen for the first time, he'd had no idea how he'd ever coped without her.

No matter what crisis he'd gone through, national, professional, or personal, Donna had always been there, a step or two behind him, guarding his flank as they'd waged the political battles he'd been born to fight. She'd researched for him on a thousand topics, networked all over Washington to keep him informed of disasters hiding in the weeds, taken up deliberately contrarian positions on every stance he'd chosen, just to hone his arguments to perfection before he unleashed them. For all practical purposes she'd been his deputy and protege, but in reality, on paper, she was always his assistant, subordinate to him, subject to his evaluations and criticism. He'd seen the looks she gave him from across his desk, heard the undertone to her playful banter. How could he not? Just the heat of her body when she'd sit next to him on buses or in meetings was sometimes enough to drive him to distraction. And he was no saint. He'd flirted back, bought her presents, let her tie his bow ties as she watched him from below her lashes. But he'd never touched her back, not like that. It would've been inappropriate.

Three years of detente in all directions, and it might have gone on forever if it hadn't been for a handful of skinhead assholes and a single wild bullet. Josh had no memories from the night of the shooting or the next three days, but he'd been told how it happened, how Donna had waited like a statue, dry-eyed, barely moving, through fourteen hours of surgery. He'd seen the videos of Sam on Today and Good Morning America, answering questions as though he barely heard them, swallowing two or three times whenever Josh's name was mentioned. Toby had told him once, when they were both very drunk and he was feeling lyrical, how when the word had come down that Josh would live, Donna had collapsed into Sam's arms and Sam had held onto her like his last anchor to the earth, her face against his neck, his face in her hair. Josh's first memory of the hospital was of them both, sitting on either side of his bed. Sam had been asleep with his head resting very uncomfortably on the raised bedrail, while Donna read quietly aloud from Newsweek. He couldn't remember the article, but she'd assured him that all the magazines that week were about him. He did remember how relieved he'd felt, how grateful, to wake up and realize they were both with him.

Things had been different after the shooting, in ways both subtle and profound. He'd missed three months of work while trying to piece himself back together, and Donna and Sam had both been there for that as well. Donna had run his office for him, using her own light touch to keep the assistant deputies in line and on task, freely invoking his name even when he was really too drugged to be making cogent decisions on his own. Sam had stepped in as liaison to the Hill, taking Donna's thoroughly-researched positions and turning them into an actual legislative agenda with which to prod the Congress. When they weren't working, they'd taken it in turns to look after Josh, Donna mostly in the days, Sam in the nights. They'd come to some kind of understanding during that time, one that Josh had never been a party to, but he could see it easily enough in the tight-knit alliance between them after the midterms. Maybe it was fatuous, but it had reminded him a little bit of two people who'd gone to war and seen things nobody else could comprehend.

He hadn't thought about it much at first, just grateful that the two people who comforted and confused him most could get along with each other. After he'd returned to work, though, he'd found himself swamped by inexplicable anger at times, and at other times by suffocating isolation and loneliness. How did Sam and Donna understand each other, how were they war buddies, when Donna hadn't even been there that night? When Sam's worst injuries were scraped hands and skinned knees, not a bullet through the thoracic region? (That's what it was in the hospital and in CJ's briefings, not his chest, not his heart, “the thoracic region,” like he'd gotten shot in the demilitarized zone of some unpronounceable ex-Soviet state.) How were they getting on with their lives and going on dates with unsuitable people and god, still watching him with unbearably heavy gazes from impossible blue eyes? He couldn't reach out, so he'd pushed instead, taking verbal swipes at Donna, ignoring Sam, burying himself in the work that was always his refuge from things he couldn't think about. And even after all that, after the concert and the window and Stanley, Donna had taken him home to her apartment because his was too cold, and on Christmas Day she and Sam had boarded up his window frame and then rehung the curtains so he wouldn't have to look at it till it was fixed. They'd watched black and white slapstick comedies and eaten Chinese food (Jewish Christmas, Sam had quipped,) and Josh had finally started believing that maybe people really could get better.

Things had gone almost back to normal, but then there had been the MS debacle and the hearings, and Josh had seen Sam's deep disillusionment but hadn't been able to say anything about it. It was his fault, after all. He'd dragged Sam into this, promised him the real thing and delivered a frightened, lying man with feet of clay. He'd dragged Donna into it too, deeper than the other assistants, by relying on her for so much, for being closer to her than was proper even if he'd never crossed the line. If either of them had broken, it would've been his fault. But they'd each rallied in their own way, and they'd kept his head above the water at the same time. That lasted barely long enough to catch a breath, and then it was reelection and Bruno, midnight in America and a kind of campaign none of them had hoped for. Sam got louder and louder as his voice was heard less and less, and Donna had all but disappeared, shrunk small by the incident with her diary, made invisible by the radiating presence of Amy Gardner. Josh had seen all that too, but he'd been exhausted by Sam's stubborn idealism and angry about Donna's nebulous act of betrayal and he'd pushed all of it aside to focus on the thing he could actually affect. And sure, he hadn't been entirely absent, he'd tried to comfort Sam after Kevin Cahn and the return of Lisa, and he'd actually accomplished something nice for Donna when he'd gotten her teacher a Presidential phone call. But in hindsight it had been so little, not nearly as much as he should've done, not nearly what he owed.

He'd thought things would be different in the second term. Maybe he could've sorted some things out in his own head if he'd just been given a little time to think without having to think of polling numbers and the values voters of America's Heartland. Instead the election had come and Sam had gone, and with Amy and everyone else pushing him to run in the special election, what could Josh have said to make him stay? Sam had claimed he'd be back after the vote, but Josh could see in those impossible eyes that something in Sam was desperate to escape from what had become of them. So he'd let Sam run to California, run for Congress, run screaming away from the White House and from Josh himself. Josh tried not to think about it very much, and luckily there was always work. There had also been Amy again, and he hadn't been entirely sure she was anything he wanted, but once Donna had started seeing Jack Reese, at least Amy had given him something to counter with. He couldn't say aloud why having a counter had been so important, but even with Jack and Amy gone by Inauguration, he and Donna had both been bruised by the experience.

There had been a moment on the night of the Inauguration Balls, when he'd looked into Donna's eyes and seen everything in her that was waiting for him, all the love and trust in the world, that he'd thought seriously for the first time about reaching out and taking it. Taking her and keeping her and damning the consequences for both of them. He'd already lost Sam, and something inside Josh had known that Donna wouldn't look at him this way forever if he kept looking away. But it was wrong, he'd reminded himself. It was inappropriate and wrong and it would cause a scandal that would see both of them crucified by the right wing press. That might have been nothing new for him, but Donna, beautiful, smart, intuitive Donna with her quirky filing system and no college education, she'd never have worked in Washington again. So he'd made her call him “Wild Thing,” and had put her in a cab alone at the end of the night with money to get home and his key to her place, then had buried himself in the business of the government for weeks so he wouldn't have to see the love in her eyes fading into confusion and disappointment. Sam's election had ended the way everyone predicted, and Sam had decided to take a job at a law firm in Los Angeles instead of returning to DC. Then there way Hoynes, and Zoey, and Glen-Allen Walken, and Josh didn't even have time to miss anybody.

It wasn't as though he hadn't seen something coming with Donna, obviously. He wasn't that obtuse. But he'd had no idea how he could get by without her, and he had no viable plan that would let him keep her, so the only solution was to ignore the problem and not acknowledge it at all. They'd still worked together as well as always. She'd kept him in one piece through the hell that was Carrick and Angela Blake, she'd kept his office running via cell phone during the shutdown, she'd held her own with the pardon attorney and in the Oval Office (even if she'd wept on his shoulder after learning about Donovan Morrisey.) After the State of the Union, Angela Blake had come to him to ask for Donna in Legislative Affairs, where they needed someone with an endless well of tenacity to coordinate the policy shops. It would've meant more money and more responsibility for Donna, but it would've meant her leaving Operations, reporting to his office and Communications equally and usually through his assistant deputies. It would've meant her leaving him. He'd put Angela off with some muttering about big projects in the pipeline and maybe after the midterm elections. Later he'd wondered a thousand times if he'd moved her, or if he hadn't blown her off on that damned Brussels trip, maybe things wouldn't have happened the way they did.

Josh had enough regrets to keep him in therapy well into the afterlife, but giving Donna that diplomatic passport was easily in the top three. It hadn't been the career advancement she'd wanted and there'd been no real need for the Deputy Chief of Staff and the Communications Director to have eyes on the ground in Gaza, but Toby had wanted someone keeping an eye on Andy and Josh had wanted Donna not to leave him, and somehow that translated to him sending her to the most dangerous place on Earth, armed only with a little brown book and a laptop. When CJ had stopped him in the hallway and told him about the CODEL, he'd felt the familiar crushing chest pain he associated with love and bullets. His first, sudden impulse was to call Sam, make sure he was safe, ask what he was supposed to do now. The urge passed in seconds, but hours later he did call Sam from the plane, even if all he could do was worry along with Josh. Most of that trip was a blur in his memory, till he'd gotten to that hospital room and she wasn't gone and his heart could beat normally again, even with the new Irish boyfriend there to remind him of the lines he'd drawn and couldn't cross. Then Josh had gone and done his job, and come back and this time she wasn't there or okay and words like pulmonary embolism and brain damage erased all thoughts of lines entirely. He'd stayed at her bedside for hours, thinking pleas too disorganized to be prayers, until she'd opened her impossible blue eyes and murmured his name, and in that moment there was nothing in the world he wouldn't have given her if she'd asked. But she'd been exhausted and drugged, and she'd smiled at him instead and gone back to sleep.

He'd planned on keeping an eye on her when she got back to the States. Everything had been so hard for her at first, even just dressing and feeding herself, much less navigating the hectic pace of her life. She'd come back before she had probably really been ready, but the whole world had been going to hell and he'd needed her so badly that he didn't tell her no. He'd meant to help her do things, and make sure she went home when she was too tired and took her medicine when the pain got bad. And sometimes he had, but sometimes he'd left her sitting in the middle of the hall in her wheelchair, or asked her to stay just one more hour so she could finish something vital, or avoided looking at her face because seeing her in pain made him hurt too, made him remember that he was hurting her and there was no way to fix it. He'd noticed her tension and her bursts of sullen anger, but there'd been nothing he could do, not with Leo sick and CJ struggling and the country seeming ready to fly apart at the seams, not when he didn't even know if he still wanted the career he'd sacrificed everything for. He hadn't known if he was ready to leave the White House and start all over again, hadn't known if he was strong and smart enough to do it on his own, hadn't known what it would mean for him and Donna.

She'd started scheduling meetings with him, like she were some rogue Congressman he was supposed to talk back into line, but he didn't know what to say to her, so he'd found a reason to cancel, first once, then again and again. Eight times, he'd realized later, too late. Eight times he'd blown her off, made her feel worthless instead of invaluable, until she'd stopped him in the middle of the bullpen and told him she was leaving and his mind had gone entirely blank and he'd done what he'd been doing for a year and a half: deny the problem entirely until he could think of some way to fix it. When he'd looked into her cubicle the next day and a stranger was at her empty desk, all he could see was Donna's eyes as he'd turned and walked away, still impossibly blue, but shattered and sad and alone.

It hadn't taken long to figure out where she'd gone. Donna was methodical to a fault, even when she was packing her whole life into an old car and driving all the way across the country for a chance at a job that was entirely unknown but might change her life. It turned out she'd given two weeks notice to HR, sixteen days and eight broken lunch meetings ago, had provided them with a Los Angeles post office box as a forwarding address, and the law firm of Carrington, Schuster and Hawthorne as a work contact. Josh hadn't known whether to laugh or throw something when he'd realized that she'd run away to Sam, because of course she had. He'd noted the number, knowing as he did that he'd never call, because what could he possibly say? He'd given her everything he had available to give and it hadn't been enough and she was gone and it was over. He'd flown to Houston the next day. Leaving the White House had seemed less like a gamble by then. Somehow it seemed more like an escape.

[sweatyato]

my one and only

Noragami one-shot |  2149 words

Characters: Yato & Yukine | General Audiences 

on ao3 by BeatrizCaelum (me)

Yato feels older than he has ever felt in thousands of years.

It is not a matter of being wise or even resilient, at this point, here, in the attic he has grown so fond of, looking at this small form under the blankets he’d do anything for. No, Yato doesn’t think he’s wise — if he were, Yukine wouldn’t be as tired as he is, sleeping through the birds’  melody outside. He suspects he’s alive solely because of love or some other equally incomprehensible feeling that is more human than divine. After all... What is a temple to his home? What is an army of shinki to his kid, or a legacy compared to Hiyori’s memories of him — of them? 

Soft. Yeah, yeah, he knows. Sentimental. Someone willing to make other people happy, Hiryori would say. Hm. That’s what she deserves. And for Yukine, well — the small bump sighs and Yato adjusts the blankets —, the hands that so tenderly ruffle his hair or pat his shoulder, Yato’s calloused, sweaty hands, they can’t have blood on them, can they? They can’t. They won’t. This softness, this love, is for them. Not for a believer or for the Heavens or something his old man can twist. It’s theirs. (Yato doesn’t have a surname to put them under. No umbrellas here. They can’t have Iki, not really. Maybe, one day, he could...)

Ah. You idiot. Hiyori is not marrying you. Well. He can dream. He can dream of so many things, even if they are not for gods, even if many of them make no sense to him as he exists now. He can dream of being a man; of growing up to someday find a soulmate in Hiyori; he can dream of mundane jobs and so much fresh snow on their backyard and joy and freedom; he can even dream of a younger Yukine, safe under his  — their  — care, from baby to child to adult to old man, his shadow taller than Yato’s own. Nowhere near his... that man.

Yato closes his eyes. Yukine knows.

He knows and he is alive. And that’s why Yato is tired. If Yukine hadn’t made it, Yato wouldn’t even be himself anymore. He was too late when Kofuku called him (she did a few times, in two days, and he regrets it so much not picking up the phone earlier), shaky voice bursting a Yukki is crossing the line that he can still hear ringing in his ears.

All seemed small, then. Father, Nora, Bishamon’s comatose state, Kazune, the Heavens. The world, the Near and the Far Shores, it all was Yukine, Yukine, Yukine. Yato left Kazune hidden and teleported so fast as he felt like he was the dying one. He didn’t even have to ponder on releasing Yukine; it wouldn’t make a difference, he already had had the most... crucial flashbacks to his identity and final moments. He was crying, newspapers spread covering the living room’s floor, and was too out of it to react upon seeing Yato.

He gathered his kid into his arms and decided what was the fastest way to kill him.

(There wasn’t one. He had no weapon. He couldn’t use Kazune even if he had brought him along, because then he’d have to come up with an explanation to why Yukine was transforming into an ayakashi. For someone who fought so much to stay alive over the centuries, Yato really didn’t think this through.)

But Yukine stayed very much human. 

Time passed and Yato felt the blond hair tickling his chin — not horns, not claws, not the ragged surface of wings —, Yukine’s rapid heartbeats still like an echo of his own, a boy’s shadow projecting behind him, the name persisting on his collarbone even with all the cracks. The gasping sounds his throat was making were nothing like a phantom’s deep timbre: his kid was his kid, although more lost than he could bear to watch.

When his old name escaped from his lips like a question, Yato just held him tighter.

“Yukine,” Yato murmured, “you’re Yukine.”

At some point, Yukine collapsed, sobs fading out. Yato answered some of his whispered questions of times long gone, memory after memory, and put him to sleep upstairs, as silent as he could, as if to not disturb his miracle.

Yukine should be gone.

Yato doesn’t understand. He almost doesn’t want to to know. Is it because he’s a blessed vessel, like Nana? Is it because even though he feels sad, he doesn’t wish to have his old life back, he doesn’t resent being dead anymore? Is it because nothing can really affect him worse than once being trapped by Heaven? Or Is Yukine’s abnormal strength something else entirely? 

Maybe it’ll be a long time until he finds out. Maybe he won’t, ever, even after countless centuries. But if Yukine can stay with him, he doesn’t care.

“Hhhg,” Yukine’s groan startles him. “Yato?”

“Here,” he answers immediately, hand already reaching out. Just there, just in case, but Yukine’s eyes are closed and he stays still.

“I feel like,” his voice is hoarse, and it takes some time for words to form, “like I died twice.”

“You kinda did,” Yato swallows. “You got back your memories, your name and you’re here. I didn’t think this was even possible.”

“I don’t feel like I’m here.”

Yato’s heart tightens. “It’ll take you time to... get used to this. Two lives, one mind.”

“I don’t... I,” a sob muffles his words. “I’m so tired. Nothing I saw was good. Nothing I saw was fair. My... He..”

“I know,” he sighs. “I know, kiddo. But, please, you can’t let this get the best of you. You’re okay now, but... If you start having too many negative feelings, your body might give up on being human.”

Yukine cracks one eye open. “What do you mean?”

Yato tells him everything. The God’s Greatest Secret, what happened to Sakura, what should’ve happened to him. Then, his plan of tracking Nora to get to his dad and even about Kazune. At this, Yukine tries to get up to smack him on the head, but he trembles and lays down again.

“You have no idea how much I want to punch you,” he grumbles, even though Yato does have all the ideas. “Dumbass. But, yeah. I get it. You don’t want to use me for that.”

“I really, really don’t.”

“Isn’t Sekki your best option against Chiki now, though? I mean, it’s not like she can — “ Yukine’s eyes widen suddenly. “Shit. Shit. I forgot. You don’t know. There’s no Chiki. Your dad released Nora.”

“What.”

Yato feels his brain short-circuit. There’s no way his old man would do this, even if he found out about the tracker spell. He wasn’t afraid of Yato, that’s for sure. Would he sacrifice his most loyal and most powerful weapon in order to escape the Heavens? Once a shinki is released, the old master can’t name them a second time.

Then again, most rules don’t apply to his dad.

“Shit really hit the fan while you were gone,” Yukine glares at him. After a few seconds, his voice lowers as a slight blush spreads across his face. “Um. Yato.”

He blinks, fearing Yukine is about to ask something he doesn’t know how to answer. “What?”

“Is — is Kazune a better shinki than me?”

Ah. Yato smiles. He does know the answer to this.

“No one is.”

“Duh,” Yukine spats, but Yato can see  — and feel  —  his relief. “I’m still gonna beat you to a pulp, though.”

“You can do whatever you want,” Yato means it. “Just stay with me. Please.”

His kid’s expression grows solemn. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Good. Me neither.”

Not for now, at least.

They share an uncomfortable silence after this, nothing but each other’s presence to ease their thoughts. Not for the first time, he wishes Hiyori was here, but it’s not fair for her to always have to comfort them, as if she’s the Goddess, after so much happened to her, after what she has already done to help.

After Yato’s mistakes.

“I...” Yukine’s voice trails off. 

Yato knows his kid is working on some courage to say whatever is weighing on both of them—, a vicious feeling that has Yato’s weak on his knees even if he’s sitting —, so he waits. 

“Is,” Yukine coughs, “is this why you kept me?”

“This...what?” He asks, not unkindly. 

“You kept me even though I was killing you because you saw yourself in me,” they lock eyes. “Because of our fathers.”

Yato says nothing for a long time. 

A bird flies into the room through the window and lands on Yukine’s nightlight.

“Bakagami,” Yukine calls. “It’s... it’s fine. I’m not mad. I mean. It’s what saved my ass, so it’s not like I can compl— ”

“It’s not that simple,” he interrupts.

“It’s... not?

“It was like that in the beginning, yeah.” He admits. “I wanted to give you something good here because of what I saw in your memories. But, then... Well. Stuff changed.”

“How so?” Yukine slowly moves to a sitting position. This time, he’s the one who reaches out, and Yato takes his hand with a small smile.

“After some of our misadventures, as I got to know you more and more... I realized I wanted you to have a good life this time no matter what had happened.” He says. “Even if you had been the happiest boy on Earth in your past life, I’d find a way to make you even happier with me.”

“Ah,” Yukine blinks, face coloring a little bit. “Yato...”

“You deserve it,” he insists. “Not just to make up for some violent past. You deserve to be happy because you are you.”

His grip on Yato’s hand tightens. “He didn’t think so.”

“Your father was —”, Yato swallows down a growl that belongs to Yaboku. “I’m not discussing his... actions. Just thinking  of how he dared to — it makes me want to —”

“Hey,” Yukine whispers. “Breathe.”

“Sorry,” he clears his throat, but can’t make himself fake even the slightest of smiles.  “Anyway. I’m... I’m sorry that you remember him now. I guess it’s okay if you think about it, but only if you don’t let it consume you, okay?”

“I’ll...try.”

“I’m gonna help ya,” he promises. ““I’ll be here to annoy you out of your bad thoughts. Whenever you feel like crying or whenever you can’t help but wonder what’s like to have an actual dad. I know the feeling.”

“I won’t,” Yukine all but snaps.

Yato hesitates. “It’s okay. There’ll be times when you’ll get sad— “

“Not that,” he rolls his eyes.

"Uh...? What, then?”

Under Yato’s questioning gaze, Yukine suddenly looks panicked. He mumbles something inaudible and dives into the covers again, hiding his face from view. Yato is baffled at the behavior and at the funny emotion squirming inside of him.

“Yukine?” He frowns, one hand above his heart. “What’s this? You okay?”

“I don’t have to.”

“You... don’t have to be okay. Yeah. Take your time. You can— “

He stops when he hears a muffled scream that sounds like, “clueless moron that can’t use his brain to save his life!”

“Hey,” Yato protests. “It has been just one year. I’m not fluent in teenager yet.”

“It's not like I don't know!” Yukine says, a bit too loud and a bit too quickly. “It’s not like I don’t know how a dad is supposed to be. I'm not exactly missing one with you here.”

With you here.

Yukine hides impossibly more under the blankets and at this point it must be hard to breathe, but Yato doesn’t remember how to move his arms to free him. His mouth hangs open, his eyes dance around the room without a spot to fixate on, his thoughts collide with each other in desperate need to make sense, one, two, three seconds pass and he chokes on whatever is that he tries to say.

“Yukine,” it’s the only word he can manage because it’s his favorite one.

He’s already lunging forward before his kid can try to say anything at all. The fall is soft, but Yukine lets out a little oooof that seems both happy and embarrassed, and Yato curls up around him, tugging on the blankets insistently.

“Not letting me look at your face, huh?” He snorts, pressing his forehead to where Yukine’s must be. “Punk.”

“Go. Away.”

“I can feel your smile through the fabric.”

“Maybe you’ll feel me kicking you on the balls through the fabric, too.” 

“I love you.”

The feeling in Yato’s chest does a somersault.

“It’s definitely kicking time right now.” 

Yukine doesn’t kick, or move, for a while. Neither does Yato. For the first time in his life, he’s not sad when he thanks Sakura for teaching him what love is.

[heroes-hq-blog1]

GAMBIT IS OFFICIALLY READY TO JOIN THE ACADEMY!

› SUN ZUNXIAN › 24 YEARS OLD › ELECTROMAGNETISM MANIPULATION › 1 YEAR IN THE ACADEMY

POWER

The ability to harness electromagnetic energy, the subject can manifest and shape the very source of electromagnetism. Unable to manipulate gravity, however, electromagnetic energy comprises of light, magnetism, electricity, and radiation as a compound with electromagnetic properties.

STRENGTHS

Electrical Telekinesis: the ability to alter matter in forms of applying electricity and/or electromagnetism.

Electromagnetic Attacks: the ability to exert and/or project electromagnetic energy in differentiating shapes, intensities, and forms.

Electromagnetism Generation: the ability to create raw electromagnetic force, incorporating magnetic fields and electricity.

WEAKNESSES

01. The user is ultimately weak upon an opponent with anti-electromagnetic related abilities.

02. Distance, mass, volume, precision, shape, and size depend on the likelihood of knowledge, skill, and strength of one’s natural capabilities.

03. Upon being exposed to heat (when manipulating electromagnetic radiation), the mutant is not “immune” to the energy if absorbed into the skin, etc. He is openly endangering himself regarding his health: eye-related complications and/or injuries caused by heat and its radiation. May suffer from skin related complications or wherever exposed if the power has failed to be applied carefully.

04. All attacks/abilities involving electricity cannot be rendered against water-based powers. Mental stability is highly looked upon when putting various abilities to use.

05. The mutant may weaken with lacking energy, whether during the performance in which the ability has been activated or as the conclusion of an aftermath.

06. Allowing other distractions to interfere with the process of manifesting energy/the ability itself has a possibility of inflicting oneself, property, or others. May include inflicting unintentional wounds on oneself. May also include cases of which electromagnetic energy/power emit in times of mental/emotional distress, trauma, etc.

07. Self-imposed exhaustion/drain (including dehydration, overheating of one’s body, sporadic blindness, etc) can result from consequences such as using too much energy over time or all at once.

ORIGINS

ACT ONE

The revolt of beggary.

The world beneath his feet, a tireless metropolis. Its grounds divided. The citizens, powerless. The age of relief, a century of gene-determined protection. An era of science, for that believers of Christ and the power of temples, will soon fall. Yet she prays, and prays, and prays to an invisible entity unseen to the eye.

There is not a soul on the margins of Taichung more hopeful, more faithful than the impoverished. The poor cling to beliefs and depend on thousands of a man’s made up prophecies. Mother is growing frail and old and her prayers are coursing between the thinning walls of what home used to be. As the years’ progress, his trust in God begins to decline.

154.46NT$, case of fresh water. 294.05NT$, one and a half pound of ground beef. 38.69NT$, mixed vegetables.

God is void. Humans are destined for survival. The police begin to talk of a young boy with unkempt eyebrows wanted for thievery. “A mutant?” one would ask, a cigarette between the index and middle finger. “No, not quite,” for he was still of average height, a very young boy he was, dwelling between lost of innocence and ill endurance.

He traded his childhood to feed a family of four and provided a roof over their heads. “Welcome to Taichung,” he’d say. Plastic beads of all colors in transparent threading spilling from his blotched hands, “these are prayer beads from the Tzushan Buddhist temple. Make a wish, pray, and believe in it with all your heart. Your wishes and deepest desires will come true.” Sometimes in English. Maybe in Korean. Or Japanese. Taiwanese Mandarin or Cantonese, again, if he’s lucky. Foreigners flock with wide eyes and swollen pockets, “only for 619.38NT$.” Sometimes they’ll make a purchase, or sway with an alluded excuse, perhaps they don’t have cash. “Are you from Osaka? I know Kansai dialect too.”

Adaptation.

ACT TWO

Tianjin is unusual. With its towering cathedrals cutting the clouds, the city is nestled on the edge of the sea. Father no longer is a printer with his gnarled hands and lowered head, eyes parallel to the floor. His skin is dusted with sunspots during the summer, still, an aging man of strenuous work that only fishermen know.

Tolerably, the days are forgiving. Sun Zunxian betrays the former life of a defrauder and his optimism affords him an interest in pursuing academics. He thinks to himself, how wonderful it’d be if someday, he could create an honest fortune.

The world is almost perfect.

Even if the gene capable people, somewhere in the mainland, are reprimanded for their powers. The world is almost perfect. Even if families were torn from each other in suspicion of mutant activity, the world is almost perfect.

He taps his fingers along the cool, metal desk, separating him from the interrogation officer. He thinks of the fridge at home, plenty of food for mother to prepare.

“Sun Zunxian, I hereby appoint you to four years of mandatory military service in the People’s Liberation Army as the traitor to humankind, the mutant.”

ACT THREE

His jaw was wide, square-shaped almost, the upper row of teeth hung over the undermost set. The eyes were narrow. His ears large, perking from the sides of his angular head, forehead lightly swept with dark spots, the scarring a shape of an asymmetrical circle with edges that frayed, a consequence from the end of a bayonet, just by its looks. The bridge of his nose crooked and bruised, the blood vessels broken beneath the skin, coagulating in hues of murky greys and blues. His sparse, uneven eyebrows arched, unruly, his hands were disfigured, bent out of shape, though there were two tattered strips of skin at his shins, tanned. He was extraordinary in height, his legs large and healthy of muscle. His shoulders were broad, his chest ceased to heave. The possibility that he’d once used to have a physically demanding job– a firefighter, maybe.

Wong Yuanchuan, 27, a construction worker.

The man he had killed.

Sun Zunxian was nineteen when he had committed legalized murder. Justified in protecting his country, the People’s Republic of China. Three years later, a Golden Medallion wrapped around his neck, honored for courage in action against the enemy.

If only he had been human. If only he had convinced himself how blessed were the powerless, that he, too, wouldn’t bear the mutant’s curse.

ACT FOUR

He doesn’t make his return a year after service. A friend in combat speaking of an academy dedicated to those with unexplainable abilities reminisces in his memory.

“Like us, huh?” “Just like us.”

His mother, especially weary, presses her ear against the house phone, “will you be okay? Tianjin is always home for you to come back.”

He stares at the academy’s emblem up top on the front of the building.

He tells his mother how much he loves her and bids farewell.

[mystieres]

hello

it’s swagoru. this will be a message for the people who care about me or just don’t have anything else to do. (sorry if this is straightforward.) it is april 3 today, so please don’t treat this as a prank.

includes: general mood for the past few months, notice of hiatus, where else u can find me, and my plans while i’m on hiatus

once you’ve started reading this, please read through everything. i might cause misunderstandings if only part of this is read.

i am posting with the risk that people will not see this. and that’s alright. i just want to say it. i’m used to people not saying anything back for now. i never expect responses of any kind until they are actually given. this is a little pessimistic but i promise you all that i will not be doing anything reckless. and i promise that i do not blame anyone for this. the message was intended for the sole purpose of expressing how i feel and what i will be doing, and it is not against anyone.

i’ll start with the bad stuff first.

i’ll be frank, and i won’t blame anyone. i feel unwanted on social media and in general. and i don’t want anyone telling me that they did want me around all along, because that doesn’t change the way i experienced or the way i currently feel. i don’t want anyone to apologize for this either, because maybe they really don’t want me around, or they didn’t know how i felt. in any way, none of you are ultimately responsible for how i feel. don’t be. don’t feel responsible. in the end, i should be the one responsible for my own feelings and happiness. it’s just what i’m feeling right now. but i really do love and appreciate the messages of help i have gotten, all the gifts. they have pushed me forward.

while i tried to be as accommodating as possible before, i somehow ended up becoming selfish. as much as i tried to prevent people becoming uncomfortable, somehow i did. i unknowingly hurt others or made them uncomfortable. i do have my own personal problems but i won’t use them as an excuse. i’ve been through a lot, but it shouldn’t have changed the way i talked with others. i’m sorry.

i know i might have been rude or weird without being aware of it. but i just wanted you all to know that i appreciate you all a lot. everything has been causing me anxiety lately. i don’t know what i’m supposed to feel on social media anymore. i feel like i don’t belong anywhere anymore. irl, all my other friends are in relationships, and i’m really starting to feel that i was meant to be a lone wolf. right now, everyone’s already developed close ties when i started interacting with them.

in short, when it comes to building relationships and socializing, while some of you consider yourselves bad at doing this, i am a complete failure. i don’t know how to interact with past friends. even a hello seems awkward and like a burden. but i am afraid of hurting, of being hurt, leaving, and being left behind. and it always feels like something is going out of my control. and i am creating and maintaining the status quo of being alone. i am hoping that this will change. of course, i should be changing the way that i look at myself. but i see myself as nothing more than a problem to others, and have been for the past six or so years.

now, some of you might have offered or will offer your dms for me, and i appreciate it. it really means a lot. unfortunately, i’ve never been the type to want to rely on anyone because then, i’d feel like a burden. most of the time i’d prefer to just rely on myself instead of giving other people more problems as i know they’re busy, or i’m just not close with them. i have been so used to people spoon-feeding me, or completely leaving things to me, that asking for help is a completely foreign idea. someone like me, who is completely aware of her weaknesses, needs to learn how to rely on others. i would like to change this someday, but it’s just improbable for me to do that right now.

i have been having periods of silence where i would refuse to talk or reply to anyone for a few days at a time unless necessary. this has happened at least twice in the past month. i don’t want to feel rude or like a problem. another reason is that i don’t get that much interactions anymore. so i just don’t see any point. my lack of self-esteem aside, maybe i’m not that likable, i’m not very fun to talk to, or maybe what i make sucks or i’m just not talented enough. the algorithm has something to do with it too, i guess. all of them are good explanations.

a lot of you can understand how disheartening that must feel. personally it makes me feel inferior or unwanted. often i get told, “well, screw what they do. just continue to do your stuff!” and i will. i tell this to other people a lot. i’ll continue to draw and write. but as for small talk, i don’t know what exactly to say. there has to be a point now. i can’t say things that don’t make sense anymore.

so to the people i know on tumblr, instagram, twitter, and discord, thank you so much for being a great part of my little circle of friends. i’m going to admit i don’t keep many. i love you all so much that you’ve all made me cry with your kind words, gifts, and playlists. the music, art, writing, and advice you share. a bunch of you even met me before i turned into a legal adult, and even saw me through graduation. although i can’t recall every single thing i’ve experienced, i just wanted you all to know that i’ve been thankful for everything so far. you’re all great and amazing people. and i feel like i can’t express it enough. i am hoping that this is just another phase of me trying to break out of my shell.

there is a high likelihood of me going on an indefinite hiatus. this has happened before. all these past breaks have been half-assed and only making my emotional health worse. if i feel unwanted, then something must be wrong with me and i must change it myself. but i can’t do it while being problematic to others. it’s self-defeating. i must go on and better myself. and most of all, i’m tired of treating my depression and adhd as excuses. i’ll experience problems, but i don’t want to talk about them anymore when i could just do something.

i have logged out of my current discord because i always feel compelled to open messages and talk. i’m not forced. but i’m making myself uncomfortable.

twitter will probably be the exception (handle: swagoru_), and i will continue posting online, waaay less on tumblr. i cannot guarantee replies to messages. i’ve tried socializing but i just suck, so i’m too afraid to reply to anything. i have also put up a wordpress (check reblogs for the site) but there’s nothing in it yet. best site ever, because i won’t feel pressured or forced to interact or gain clout.

and here’s some slightly better news. please let me flex for now.

i am graduating with around/at least 11 awards bagged in total for my entire high school life (grades 9-12). some math contests and journalism stuff. and i am going on to college. 

it leaves me with just one issue: money. i am budgeting the inheritance i received from my late mother. aside from her, no one else is earning money for me. i have the support of my grandparents but i want to establish financial independence as soon as possible. i tried to apply for a job a while back but i was so busy. but i might take it this summer. for months i have been considering commissions, but it’s either i don’t have enough clout or talent to do them. my works barely get any notice so i’m deciding against it. but i am always going to try improving my art, writing, and myself. one day i will be brave enough to open commissions. i hope some of you will consider when i have my portfolio ready.

this means that i will be a lot busier preparing and improving myself. this also serves as my adjustment period from a high school student who was sheltered and completely dependent all her life to someone who is slowly being introduced into adulthood and reality.  i’m still learning how to live. i can’t let others befriend me while i’m still a mess. and most of all, even with my conditions, i don’t expect the world to adjust to me.

but when i become active here again, i hope that i’ll have the courage to speak and reply like usual. i hope to get rid of all this negativity and this shyness i must overcome.

i hope you read through everything. i’m going to miss you guys. i don’t know when i’ll be more active to talk. hopefully when we do, i will have become a better person by then.

all the love,

swagoru 💙

[fullformworld]

500+Instagram Captions - Cute,Couples,Workout,Friendship,Cool,Sassy,One word,Short,Selfies,Adventure,Happy,Aesthetic,funny,Sunset,Fall,Fire,Beach,Dog,Savage

INSTAGRAM CAPTIONS

Looking for Best Instagram captions - Cute,Couples,Workout,Friendship,Cool,Sassy,One word,Short,Selfies,Adventure,Happy,Aesthetic,funny,Sunset,Fall,Fire,Beach,Dog,Savage. Now a days , everyone is using the Instagram app on their mobile. Instagram is one of the most popular and widely used Photo sharing application which is owned by Facebook allow users to share their Photos and Videos. WHAT ARE INSTAGRAM CAPTIONS ? An Instagram caption is a written description or explanation about the Instagram photo to provide more context. Instagram captions can include emojis, hashtags, and tags. Instagram captions are very useful for making your post (photos/videos) look attractive.Without a caption a post doesn't look good at all. Having an excellent and attractive Instagram Caption is very important! It can be very useful to you for receiving a lot of likes of the articles and finding none. But thinking about great Instagram Captions might be challenging, so we made it easy to run out of unique Instagram caption ideas in 20+ different categories when you’re publishing a lot of photo. HOW TO WRITE INSTAGRAM CAPTIONS ? As you upload a selective picture of yours after clicking 100+ of them just because its perfect. So, you need to check out these points : i) Use Smileys with your Instagram captions Using Smileys or Emojis with your captions make the post really attractive and cool. An emoji describes your posts very clearly if you use it in a right way. An emoji only can be placed as a caption on your post. So, keep in mind that a caption with a perfect emoji will make your post look better than others. ii) Do use Hashtags (#) Using appropriate Hashtags with your Instagram captions can help you to grow your profile reach. There are millions of hashtags used by peoples. A a particular hashtag determines your category, so that anyone searching for your type, will easily find you. Best Instagram captions 2021        Instagram is a social media platform where thousands of pictures and videos are uploaded daily with Instagram captions. As the audience on Instagram is increasing day by day.There are approx 400 million+ users on this social media platform.     Here is my collection of 30+ Instagram captions categories which you will definitely love to use as your "Instagram captions" and bookmark this Homepage for regular uses.Here in this article, we are going to share Instagram captions for Instagram 2018.

 Cute Instagram captions

cute instagram captions Being in a relationship is a full-time job. So don’t apply if you’re not ready. Your speed doesn’t matter, forward is forward The secret of getting ahead is getting started. Lift up your head princess, if not the crown falls. Always wear your invisible crown. Never look down on anybody UNLESS you’re helping him up. Always hold your head up. You have to be ODD, to be number ONE. Time is precious, waste it wisely. Don’t tell people your dreams, SHOW THEM! Do not worry, be happy The road to success is always under construction. If sky is the limit, then go there There are no shortcuts to any place worth going. Love is when you accept a person the way he or she is. You’ll never understand love until you You can love the person you trust but you can not always trust the person you love. Love is the greatest feeling in the word but it can also be the worse. Being in a relationship is a full-time job. So don’t apply if you’re not ready. Your speed doesn’t matter, forward is forward The secret of getting ahead is getting started. Lift up your head princess, if not the crown falls. Always wear your invisible crown. Never look down on anybody UNLESS you’re helping him up. Always hold your head up. You have to be ODD, to be number ONE. Time is precious, waste it wisely. Don’t tell people your dreams, SHOW THEM! Do not worry, be happy.  

Couple Goals Instagram captions

Couple Goals Instagram captions   You are mine, I am damn yours. You are my today and all of my tomorrows. You know! I want to be the reason of smile😀 on your face. I might be too late to be your first, but I can certainly be your last. Borrow me a Kiss💋💋, please? I wanna give it back, with full interest. They say it’s rude to stare, but I don’t care. You are too cute 😊not to stare at. If you’re alone, I’ll be your shadow.👥 I thought I was normal until I met you. Then, I realized we’re both pretty weird and I like that about us. What I have with you is something I never want with anyone else. You are the lovely distraction. I can resist any more, not to love you. What made you fall for him? He never asked me to justify my past. Cold nights, warm blankets, cozy days. I still fall for you every day of my life. Life starts again when fall hits, but I’m so glad it’s with you. Friends say you are a distraction to me. Believe me, I want to be distracted forever. She knew she loved him when “home” 🏠went from being a place to being a person. Love is a two-way street constantly under construction. Love: Two minds without a single thought. You’re my reflection, all I see is you. If I lost you I would cry, oh how I love you baby. Without you I would be so lost. You are the compass that guides me in life. We balance each other out so perfectly. You have made me the man / woman that I am today. You are my rock, my home, and my everything.  I can’t wait to tell our love story to our children and our grandchildren one day. all I used to see you make me see the world in brighter colours when before was dull shades of grey. My life has been such a wonderful adventure since you came along. Our life together is one for the history books. Forget the fairy tales, I think our love story is the best one ever told. Even after all this time you still make me weak in the knees I barely remember what I was doing with my life before you came along.  

Workout instagram captions

workout instagram captions The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a person's determination. Suck it up and one day you won't have to suck it in. Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you. The only place success comes before work is in the dictionary. Go the extra mile. it's never crowded. I'm so unfamiliar with the gym, I call it James! I exercise every day. I swim, I bike, I run and I go to the gym. Fall in love with process and results will come.. Every beauty needs a beast That is why don't skip Leg's day. Let the gains begin Strong peoples don't pull others down, them pull them up. Your fitness is 100% mental. Think of your workouts as important meetings A lot of women like to be super tiny When you want to give up, remember why you started. It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.  

Friendship goals Instagram captions

workout instagram captions Nothing last forever, except these memories. I and My group of friends are the funniest👭😃 humans I know. A friend👬 knows the song in my heart 💙and sings it to me when my memory fails. Best friends👬 stick together till the end. They are like a straight➖ line that will not bend. Strangers think I’m quiet, my friends👬🤔 think I’m out-going, only my best friends know that I’m completely insane! A real friend 👬is one with whom you can be silent. Good friends are like stars 🌟. You don’t always see them, but you know they’re always there… True friendship 👭is seen through the heart, 💛not through the eyes.👁 Best Friends make good times better and hard times easier! Friends take the word WORRY😔 out of my vocabulary and just replace it with HAPPINESS.😊 Friendship is the candle🕯 that lights up your heart❤ whenever it is dark outside. It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages. The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for. If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever. I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light. Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend. What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies. Only a true best friend can protect you from your immortal enemies. It's hard to tell who h There's not a word yet, for old friends who've just met.as your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it. “Be slow to fall into friendship, but when you are in, continue firm and constant. Stay is a charming word in a friend's vocabulary. We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you. The best mirror is an old friend. Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit. Storm Sister--a friend who sticks close when storms hit her friend's life. On our own, we’d look totally normal. Together, we’re something else. Together, we’re special. Being first to ask for help in a friendship takes courage and humility. Stick by your friends, and they'll help resolve your issues. Or, at the very least, help you forget they exist for a while. Conversations between friends are the craziest and funniest of all.  

Cool captions for instagram

Cool captions for instagram   When money talks nobody notices what grammar it uses. The only disability in life is a bad attitude. It's not about ideas. It's about ideas making happen. I am back with my same attitude.👓 Attitude is my middle name. You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough. Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition. It’s the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter. It’s the good girls who keep diaries; the bad girls never have the time. Someday I want to be perfect; until then, I’ll be happy being incredible. Old age is no place for sissies. If you rest, you rust. Life is hard. After all, it kills you. When someone makes you an option, make them a memory. Make today so awesome, Yesterday gets jealous. Sell the problem you solve, not product. Not everyone likes me, But not everyone matters. Being in a good frame of mind helps keep one in the picture of health. I’m gonna make the rest of my life, the best of my life. They laugh at me because I’m different, I laugh at them because they’re all the same. When I’m good, I’m God’s son 😊. But when I’m bad, I’m devil’s dad. 😈 !! Criticize me when you are at my level. Until then you may just admire. You can have RESULTS or EXCUSES not both. I’m not cranky. I just have a violent reaction to stupid people. Self-love isn’t selfish, it is important. I am not for everyone. When I was born...The devil said..👓”Oh, Shit..!! Competition” Love conquers all things except poverty and toothache. Let a smile be your umbrella if you want to stand out in the rain like a grinning idiot. A woman is like a tea bag you never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water. If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun. The truth will set you free. But first, it will piss you off. I do not want people to be agreeable, as it saves me that trouble of liking them.  

Sassy instagram captions

Sassy instagram captions “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man” “We gonna party like it’s your birthday” “I got 99 problems, but ain’t one” “The more money we come across, the more problems we see” Big poppa. You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow. This opportunity comes once in a lifetime.” “Drop it like it’s hot” Only God Can Judge Me “I’m feeling’ myself” “To live doesn’t mean you’re alive”  

One Word instagram captions

One Word instagram captions Live. Breathe. Forgive. Ambition. Love. Processing. Inspire Succeed Fly Shine Appreciate grow Dream Positivity Enthusiastic Kind Troublemaker Cute Passionate Instagramer  

Short Instagram captions

Short Instagram captions Do it now . Appreciate the moment. Change is good. Remember to live. Learn from yesterday. Nothing is fair in love. Do or die. Make it happen Feed your soul Now or never Smile. Sparkle. Shine You are enough. Every moment matters. Take the risk. Hit the goals Never look back. Hit the success. It's my journey. You're mine. Never look back Success breads success Winners never quit.  

Instagram captions for selfies

Instagram captions for selfies - In a world full of trends, I want to remain a classic. - Today, I will be as useless as the 'g' in lasagna. - Stress doesn't really go with my outfit. - Reality called, so I hung up. - Dare to be a donut in a world of plain bagels. - I love looking in the mirror and feeling good about what I see. - Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in the mirror. - I walk around like everything is fine, but deep down, inside my shoe, my sock is sliding off." - Less perfection, more authenticity. - To be old and wise, you must first be young and stupid. - This reality is a beautiful illusion. - The mirror reflects my light. - Do you want to meet the love of your life? Look in the mirror. - What does a mirror look at? - What you seek is seeking you. - Eyes are never quiet. - Sometimes you gotta fall before you fly. - Mirrors tell you the truth. - And I usually use myself as a model, posing in front of a mirror. - Beauty is truth’s smile when she beholds her own face in a perfect mirror.  

Adventure Instagram captions

Adventure Instagram captions Work hard, travel harder. Travel expands the mind and fills the gap. Have a safe flight back home✈🛫 Happiness is looking down for the next destination from your plane 🛬 window. The best part about solo travel is rediscovering that I enjoy my own company. Travel has a way of stretching the mind. Travel is not really about leaving our homes but leaving out habits. To take travel is to take a journey into yourself. Adventure is worthwhile. Where ever I go, it became part of me. Life is short and the world 🌏is wide. Forget champagne and caviar – Taste the world instead! The world is a book 📕, who do not travel read only a page. Travel✈ brings power and loves ❤back to your life Some beautiful paths 🛣 can't be discovered without getting lost. Travel is never a matter of money, but of courage. Let's pack our bags 👜 and travel the world. Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world. Someday I'm going to be free and I'm going to travel the world. Let's go on a road trip together.

Happy instagram captions

Happy instagram captions - Put some color in your life 🌈 - Happiness is a little corner of paradise in my life. - Happiness is not a goal… it’s a by-product of a life well-lived. - If you want to be happy, be. - We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing. - Be Wild. Be True. Be Happy 💕 - Being happy never goes out of style. - Look for the magic in every moment💙 - Don’t stop to dream. - Be a flower in a world made of stones🌺 - Life is a gift, live it now - You decide to be happy or not - No matter how hard I try, I can never be unhappy. - Happiness consists of living each day as if it were the first day of your honeymoon and the last day of your vacation. Read the full article

[acidblackpirate]

A Booked Companion

Ka-yu sighed heavily into the speaker. He had his legs up on the couch and was staring at the ceiling.

“Are you sure you won’t come over tonight?”, he assured.

“I told you I still got work to do.”

He rolled his eyes, although yasu could not see it through the phone.

“I really don’t understand why you are doing that job. You don’t need the money.”

Stressing himself with an additional part time job was really ridiculous with the way Janne was selling. They had enough money – and also enough work, for that matter.

“You know I’m not doing it for the money”, yasu explained patiently.

His voice let on that he was annoyed, though. A lot of people had tried to talk him out of it already.

“I’m just doing my friend a favour. He needed the holiday and the company demanded he find someone who covers for him during those three weeks. It’s not for such a long time and no one else wanted to do it.”

Once more, ka-yu sighed heavily.

“You are too nice sometimes, yasu. The stress will kill you someday. What is that job anyway?”

He didn’t ask this question for the first time, but he hadn’t got a proper answer so far.

“It’s boring customer service, I told you a million times already”, yasu said.

“Can’t you work tomorrow and come over now?”, ka-yu begged, slightly embarrassed by how pleading he sounded. “Please?”

In fact, he just hated to spend his evenings alone in his empty apartment. By now, he had made friends in Tokyo, but he wasn’t as close to any of them yet as he had been to his childhood friends back home. He wasn’t as close to any of them as he was to yasu.

The tours were different of course. The loud voices of the fans cheering on them always made him forget his own loneliness for the durance of another one last song. But they also left behind the silence afterwards even quieter.

“I’m sorry”, yasu mumbled.

He probably knew the feeling of that silence, too. He knew why ka-yu didn’t want to be alone.

“Well, another time”, ka-yu said hastily, before his friend could start to feel guilty.

It wasn’t his fault. It was nice he was covering for his friend. Yasu was always nice. Someday, the stress would kill him.

“Give me a call when you are free again”, he added.

“I will”, yasu said and they hung up.

For a moment, ka-yu held the mobile in his hand as if it could spend him company instead of yasu’s voice. It was a poor substitute.

He put the phone onto the table next to him. Today’s mail was scrambled across it. It was all advertisement. No one bothered to write to ka-yu anymore.

Listlessly, he picked up one of the flyers.

It showed a smiling young man and a smiling young woman in a short dress. Both of them were quite attractive. They were offering ka-yu their company. Paid by the hour. Special service included. Ka-yu could imagine what that special service would be.

He stared at the phone number underneath. The numbers were printed bright red. They looked inviting. Also, a little dangerous maybe.

Ka-yu really didn’t want to spend the night alone.

He thought of the special service.

It made him feel horny.

Ka-yu had never considered himself a person that would pay for sex under any circumstances. But there had been the tour and it wasn’t just busy, it was also impossible to meet someone. It was a long time since he had been intimated with someone.

It would just be a call. Just to ask about the conditions. There was nothing wrong with informing yourself. It was mere curiosity. Almost nothing but a joke.

He picked up his mobile again and dialled the number on the flyer.

For a moment, the line stayed silent, then a female voice picked up. She sounded friendly and professional.

“Hello, Shangri-La customer service, how may I help you?”

Ka-yu cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Hi, my name is ka-yu and I wondered if I could …” He cleared his throat again and checked on the flyer for the term they had used. “ … book one of your companions tonight.”

He was glad the woman on the other end of the line couldn’t see him. His cheek felt very hot.

“Of course”, she said, still friendly and still professional. “Our companions are paid by the hour, but there is a price list of …”

“The price doesn’t matter”, ka-yu interrupted her.

He did not want this talk to drag on, he was feeling ashamed of himself already, but now that he had come this far he wouldn’t just hang up.

“Oh, good to hear.”

The woman sounded even friendlier now.

“What type of companion are you looking for? Any criteria? We will try to find someone who matches your taste, it’s part of the service.”

Ka-yu swallowed.

The girl on the flyer looked cute.

The guy looked nice, too.

He hesitated.

There had been some girls before the last tour.

“I would like to book a male companion”, he said and listened for a reaction.

The woman gave a small hum to assure she was still listening. There was no judgement.

“Preferably in his 20s. I’d feel more comfortable, if we were about the same age.”

He stopped. There weren’t any more criteria he could think of.

The woman seemed to realize he had ran out of ideas.

“Any special preferences? Some of our companions are specialized in different techniques. Bondage or …”

“No, no”, ka-yu interrupted her again.

He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. Her indifferent and friendly tone made the situation feel unreal.

“I prefer to be top, if that’s important. But all normal, no kinky stuff. Just old-school.”

His own voice sounded weird to him. Too high. Babbling. Embarrassing.

“Alright. Usually, we arrange meetings at places chosen by our employees to assure they feel comfortable. But against an extra fee we will send your assigned companion over to your place directly if that’s what you wish.”

Ka-yu nodded and felt stupid immediately.

“Yes, please do that.”

He named his address and confirmed it when the woman read it out to him again.

“We have someone for you in our database”, she said. “We will contact him right away. Our companion will arrive within one hour. You will pay him directly. If anything changes, we will call you immediately.”

Ka-yu thanked her and finally hung up.

He felt strange. A tight knot had formed in his stomach.

He had never been with a prostitute so far. Or a companion – which sounded classier, but basically meant the same. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it yet.

Most of all, he was nervous, he guessed.

He wondered what to do now. Take a shower maybe? Or better do that later, when he got here. It would make a better impression to prove he was cleaning himself. What a weird thought. If they also had customers that made them feel very uncomfortable? Ka-yu could ask him when he got here. Or maybe not. It would probably kill the mood. Would there be any mood if he was paying for it? What would he look like? Ka-yu hoped he would be attractive. But then they probably did not hire unattractive guys. Did he still have condoms at home? He surely had. He hadn’t needed any in a while.

Hard he swallowed and stared at the ceiling again.

Waiting around like that was no good. His mind was going crazy.

If he didn’t like him, could he still send him back just like that? Return him like a piece of clothing that didn’t fit? Ka-yu would probably be too polite to do that. Maybe, he would also be too polite to take the first step. It would be a complete stranger, after all.

Before he could think about it even more, he got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. He put some beer into the fridge. Put some snacks on plates. Chocolates and chips. But mostly chocolates. He would place them on the table in the living room.

They would go to the living room first, wouldn’t they? Or straight to the bedroom?

Ka-yu did not like that thought. He hadn’t only been looking for sex tonight, but mostly company. He also wanted to chat. It would be his decision, he reminded himself. He was paying. A weird thought again, to be paying for it.

He inhaled deeply and carried the plates over to the living room.

15 minutes since he had made the call.

He checked his mobile.

No one had tried to call him to cancel the date. He would arrive within the next 45 minutes.

Still time for a shower. Instead he went to the bedroom and opened the window to let in fresh air.

He wanted to apply perfume, but then he remembered he would take a shower anyway. He should do it afterwards. Maybe comb his hair again?

20 minutes since he had made the call.

The doorbell rang.

Ka-yu flinched violently.

For a brief moment, he considered just staying put. Switching off the lights and pretending he wasn’t home.

Who would book a prostitute because he was lonely? Not him. Not ka-yu.

Another deep breath.

It wasn’t a prostitute. It was a companion. They could chat. There was nothing wrong with wanting some company.

Gathering his courage, ka-yu went to the front door.

He had checked himself in the mirror first. He was looking alright. Handsome, even. It would be alright.

Licking his lips nervously one last time, he opened the door.

He had his eyes cast down, so his gaze fell upon a pair of heavy black boots first. He liked them. They looked punk.

He allowed his gaze to trail upwards.

Tight black leather pants. He also liked them. For a different reason.

He smiled.

A see-through shirt with lacing at the front. More a prostitute than a companion. Very attractive, still.

Bleached blonde hair falling onto the shoulders and a grinning face.

“Oh, yasu”, ka-yu said and blushed.

His best friend was still grinning at him. His teeth were showing like that.

Maybe it was a coincidence. Ka-yu had asked him over earlier after all.

“Hey, I came here to work”, yasu said.

Ka-yu blinked slowly.

“Is that so?”, he asked numbly.

He had said he would be at his part time job now. He seemed too relaxed for what ka-yu was assuming, though.

“So, you are my companion tonight?”, he assured.

Yasu rolled his eyes at him and pushed past him into the apartment. Ka-yu watched him strip off his shoes. He moved as if it was his place. It nearly was.

“Well, that is what you called for, idiot”, he observed.

Ka-yu nodded.

That was what he had called for. He hadn’t expected yasu to show up on his doorstep, though.

He was absolutely not sure what would happen next.

Slowly, he followed yasu who had already dashed off to his living room.

“Hey, can I use your computer for a moment?”, the vocalist called over his shoulder.

“Sure”, ka-yu said, too dumb-struck to think of anything else.

He sat down on the couch and watched yasu switch on his computer. The screen lit up and cast shadows across his profile. He looked so pretty, ka-yu thought. Also, somewhat slutty. With all that skin showing and the pants so tight. Never had he considered he might do work like that, though.

They had been friends for such long years, but he had never thought this of him. He was still acting way too carefree about it now. Maybe it had been a misunderstanding after all.

“So, this is what you are working part time as”, ka-yu said.

“Yeah”, yasu replied, his eyes fixed on the keyboard. “I told you it’s customer service.”

Ka-yu had known it was customer service. He hadn’t expected it to be special service for customers, though.

“You should just forget about this”, he suggested. “You shouldn’t have come here in the first place.”

Ka-yu could not imagine having sex with yasu. At least, not for money. His friend must have been feeling the same.

“No!”, yasu exclaimed and turned around shortly to wave it off. “It’s not a problem for me, really. I’ll be finished here in a moment and then I’ll be there for you entirely.”

Ka-yu wondered if yasu really planned on having sex with him. He felt disgusted by that thought. That yasu would toss aside their long friendship for a paid job. He also felt his stomach twist with excitement. He ignored it.

“I don’t really feel comfortable with the situation”, he stated.

He couldn’t see what yasu was typing on the screen, but he seemed busy.

“That’s typical”, yasu snored. “But you don’t have to have a bad consciousness. You worry too much, ka-yu. I’m already here.”

“I want to cancel this appointment”, ka-yu insisted.

This time, yasu only snorted, but did not reply. He was still typing.

Ka-yu wondered what he was doing, but he did not ask.

“I can’t believe you are doing this job”, he finally said.

Yasu shrugged with his back still turned towards him.

“At first, I had my doubts, too. But it’s really not so bad.”

Ka-yu had his doubts about that.

He knew that he shouldn’t judge yasu – that he had no right to do it after their years of friendship – but he still did. He hated the thought he was having sex with strangers. The feeling also made him guilty. He had been fine hiring a prostitute. He wouldn’t have judged a stranger. He was judging his friend, though.

“Can you pick the customers yourself?”

Yasu gave a hoarse laughter.

“I don’t see what I get beforehand. We get automatic assignments.”

Briefly, ka-yu felt almost disappointed. Yasu hadn’t picked him. It would have been different if he had chosen to be here.

“And what’s your clientele?”

He bit his lip after the question. Actually, he did not want to know. It was different to know his friend was having sex with strangers on a factual level. He did not want to imagine what he was doing with whom. It made him feel furious. No one had the right to touch yasu. Not like that. They did not deserve him, no matter how much they paid.

He studied him closely from the side.

His soft lips looked beautiful. So did his dark eyes. Suddenly, he could not stand the thought of anybody touching him.

“With this company it’s mostly women, actually. But also some men. It’s the 21th century after all. Taste is diverse”, yasu said.

“Hm”, ka-yu said.

He did not understand why it was bothering him so much. Yasu wasn’t doing it for the money, he had enough of that. And he had never been exactly innocent. He had always been sleeping around a lot. So had ka-yu, when he still found the time to do it. It had never bothered him. Or, it had never bothered him much. Sometimes, he had been jealous.

“But usually you are working at places from the company, aren’t you?”, he wanted to know.

He didn’t like the thought yasu was visiting strangers who wanted to have sex with him and entering their apartments. It might be dangerous. He worried about him.

“Well there are rooms at the company building, but I usually work from home. It’s more chill. I can take naps in between and stuff.”

He chuckled, but ka-yu did not understand the joke. It wasn’t safe to let strangers into your place as well.

Of course, he had been willing to do just the same earlier today, but it was different when it was yasu. He had to take care of himself.

“How many customers do you usually have?”, he asked.

It was only three weeks, after all, he told himself, maybe he wasn’t really doing it with many people at all. Yasu was just covering for a friend. Ka-yu was astonished he was friends with a male prostitute. But not that astonished, either. That was probably where yasu got his fashion advice from.

“The company makes us take 50 customers per day.”

Ka-yu nearly choked himself just by breathing. He started coughing violently.

“50?”, he then managed to repeat. “50?! That is a crazy lot.”

He did not want to imagine yasu doing it with 50 people per day. The number sounded too absurd to be true.

“Well”, yasu explained. “They all have different requests, you see. Some are done very fast and simple. I’m usually done within three hours. And I take breaks in between, so I don’t get too exhausted.”

Ka-yu did the math.

“But that’s hardly three minutes per person, it’s impossible!”, he cried out.

“I told you”, yasu sighed. “It’s different requests. Also, with me it never takes long. People at the company told me I seem to be a natural.”

Shortly he stopped typing to wriggle his fingers in the air.

“I’m fast with those.”

Ka-yu imagined yasu sitting in his bedroom and giving out handjobs that only lasted for a minute. Magic hands. He wondered what else about him was magic. With anyone else he would have been amused about it. With yasu, it wasn’t funny at all. He felt very sick, all of a sudden.

“I really don’t feel comfortable like this”, he repeated.

The thought of someone else touching yasu like that made him feel dizzy. Not with desire and not with love like he deserved it. But like an object. Yasu wasn’t an object. He was precious.

“God, I told you to give me a minute”, yasu groaned. “You are so sensitive today.”

Angrily, ka-yu got up.

“Excuse me for a moment”, he said and went to the bathroom.

Yasu was treating him like an object, too. Like a full purse, to be precise.

He had taken his mobile and got it out now to dial the number of Shangri-La customer service once again. Customer service, hah.

The same friendly woman picked up again.

Ka-yu stated his name and his address.

“I want to cancel the appointment. Officially. I changed my mind, I don’t want that service.”

For a moment there was silence and then a quiet sigh. Obviously, he wasn’t the first one who changed his mind last minute.

“We will inform your companion”, she said. “But he must already be on his way. If he is already there, you have to pay a compensating fee.”

“Yes, sure”, ka-yu agreed.

He would have agreed to anything to get it over with.

Yasu seemed to have no intention to accept his resistance, so this seemed like the best solution.

After hanging up, he stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes longer. He thought about yasu, although he tried not to do it.

Maybe it was all just a joke, a prank. He had no reason to really do this job. Not even for a friend. It wasn’t the kind of job he took on, even for a very good friend; not when you had a choice.

Ka-yu was slightly scared to go back in.

But he had cancelled the booking. Yasu would not try anything. They would just hang out and chat like he had originally intended, before the whole evening had taken such a weird turn. The three weeks would pass. They would forget about this incident eventually. Eventually, ka-yu would forget that his best friend had worked as a prostitute.

He went back into the living room.

Yasu had switched off the computer and was sitting on the couch now.

“Working time is over, I guess”, he stated.

Ka-yu sat down next to him relieved.

Obviously, the company had reached and informed him immediately. He was thankful for that.

“Do you want to go now?”, he asked hesitantly.

He still did not want to be alone, not alone after all.

“No, of course not”, yasu said. “I hoped we would hang out afterwards when I came here.”

Ka-yu gave him a small smile.

“And … do I have to pay you?”

Yasu stared at him blankly, then he threw back his head and started laughing. His teeth were showing again. For a moment, ka-yu wanted to kiss him, but he couldn’t, because he thought of all the people that were also kissing him now.

“Wow, music business has really ruined you”, yasu joked. “You have no idea how a regular job works. I get paid by people who profit from my service, not from people who are around by chance.”

Ka-yu blushed. It felt as if yasu was teasing him for not going through with it.

“Well, you haven’t really been paying attention to me”, he defended himself.

Maybe that was also part of the problem. If yasu could do it with so many different people, why hadn’t he even been able to get close to ka-yu earlier? Now that he thought about it, he might have been avoiding him. It didn’t seem fair. Ka-yu wasn’t unattractive. He wasn’t a creep. If yasu could do it with all kinds of strangers, he should be able to do it with his best friend. Not that ka-yu wanted to. He didn’t want to at all.

He stared at yasu’s lips again.

“I don’t understand what you came here for then”, he added.

“I haven’t been paying attention to you yet”, yasu corrected. “Now, I’m all yours.”

“So, you are still up for it, now that work is finished?”, ka-yu assured.

“Sure!”, yasu exclaimed.

He couldn’t help feeling a little flattered. Obviously, yasu had just waited until it was no longer work. Because ka-yu was special to him. He did not want him to be just another stranger, just another full purse.

He couldn’t help feeling a little excited, too.

“Actually, I was very happy you called”, yasu confessed.

Ka-yu smiled, shyly now.

Yasu had been happy. He still wanted to kiss him, somehow.

“I’m happy you are here now”, he admitted in return.

Still, he was keeping his distance. Other lips, other bodies had stained yasu. He forced himself to remember that. But looking at his smiling face that was hard. All he saw was the boy he had always known. The wrinkles on his face and the brown of his eyes. The hair he had bleached only a while ago. Ka-yu remembered him with dark hair, still. Both looked good on him.

“You seem a little tense, though”, yasu observed. “Is something wrong? Is it because I came here to work?”

Ka-yu nodded shortly.

Yasu’s job was like a third person, sitting between them now. A cheap, aggressive person with too much make-up on and a loud voice.

“Please, forget about that. It’s just you and me now. Like on every other day.”

“Not quite”, ka-yu mumbled.

After all, yasu had stated quite clearly that he was still intending to have sex with him. That made him pretty tense, too. He wasn’t sure if he dreaded it or hoped for it. Yasu looked so pretty right now.

“Just relax”, yasu said softly.

His voice sounded sexy when he spoke quietly like that.

Ka-yu had noticed all those things before, but his observations had never been mixed with hope.

“You are stressed”, he said after scanning ka-yu one more time.

Yasu got up from the couch and walked around it, until he was standing behind ka-yu.

He did not dare to turn around.

“I will give a massage, it will help you calm down”, he promised.

When his hands came to rest on ka-yu’s shoulders, he turned somewhat hard. He felt embarrassed by this excitement, although it had probably been yasu’s intention. His grip was firm and his hands felt strong. They made ka-yu feel safe.

Quietly, he moaned as yasu’s thumbs dug into his back, going over all the tensions with gentle pressure and soothing them out. Yasu had always been good at this. Sometimes, he massaged him when they were on tour. Ka-yu always felt better afterwards.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of yasu’s hands. It felt different today. More sensual.

Behind him yasu was leaning down, bringing his lips very close to ka-yu’s ear.

“Does it feel good?”, he whispered.

His hot breath was tingling on his neck, his words sounded like a dirty promise.

Following an instinct, ka-yu turned his head, so his cheek was brushing against yasu’s face. Gently he kissed him on the lips, lingering a bit with shy pressure until the vocalist pulled away.

Still close to his ear, yasu giggled.

“I wasn’t expecting that”, he owned up.

Ka-yu wasn’t quite sure what he meant. Hadn’t he expected ka-yu to take the first step? Hadn’t he expected it to happen so fast?

“Do you mind?”, he asked quietly.

“No”, yasu said and his hands vanished from his shoulders.

He was walking around the couch again, wanting to sit down next to him. But before he managed, ka-yu grabbed his hips and pulled him onto his lap suddenly.

Rather ungraceful, yasu tumbled down on him, giggling again. Wrinkles were showing around his eyes when he did. Ka-yu leaned in to kiss them as well. Yasu was sitting on his lap sideways, pulling his legs up on the couch now and his face turned towards ka-yu.

He reached up and ran his fingers across ka-yu’s temple and then down his cheek until his forefinger brushed over his lips lightly. The touch was surprisingly tender and it made ka-yu’s stomach flutter once again.

He leaned forward, kissing yasu once more, greedier this time, with open lips.

He had thought that his current job would be a problem, but it wasn’t. It was just yasu and he had always desired him, even if it hadn’t been with dazzling passion. He had always wanted to kiss him, but it was the kind of want that waited for a permission before it turned into a serious demand. Tonight, he had been granted permission.

He could feel yasu’s lips curl up against his. He was smiling into the kiss.

Ka-yu pushed forward his tongue, their kisses turning sloppy and wet. He was smiling slightly, too.

His hand had rested on yasu’s hip so far, but now he allowed it to travel downwards. He rubbed his palm against yasu’s crotch, feeling him growing harder underneath the tight leather. The sensation turned him on.

To his surprise yasu pulled back, though, grabbing for his wrist to stop his motions.

“Too fast”, he whispered, sounding a little out of breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay”, ka-yu soothed him immediately, putting his hand back onto his waist. “Your pace.”

It irritated him a bit, though. Was he like that with customers, too? Ka-yu had never been with a prostitute. He didn’t know how demanding he could be. Moreover, yasu had made it clear that this wasn’t work. He wasn’t paying him. He needed to respect his feelings. It bothered him that he was probably the only one who had to take it this slow, though. Would he have stopped him, if ka-yu had been paying?

To silence his own thoughts, he started biting down on yasu’s neck. He placed kisses on his throat, pushing back his hair to lick across his collarbone.

Yasu moaned. He had a sweet voice.

Hesitantly, ka-yu hooked his finger under the lacing of his shirt, untying the fabric slowly. He wanted to make sure yasu could ask him to stop any time.

But he didn’t, and ka-yu started to kiss his way don’t yasu’s chest. His skin was smooth and warm. He liked his taste.

Looking up he smiled at yasu. The lids over his dark eyes were heavy.

“I don’t want to pressure you, but can we go to the bedroom? It would be more comfortable.”

Yasu nodded.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

He got up from his lap and grabbed ka-yu’s hand to pull him towards the bedroom. It was a little chilly in there. He had forgotten to close the window. The air also smelled nice and fresh. It smelled like a summer night in the city.

He closed the window anyway and watched yasu take off his shirt, before lying down on the bed. He kept on his pants. His boner was showing visibly, but he still kept them on.

Ka-yu hesitated but did not undress. Fully clothed he knelt down on top of yasu, who was lying on his back, looking up to him.

Ka-yu brushed back strands of hair from his face. He smiled up to him expectantly. Ka-yu knew that expression very well. It was the same smile he had had as a child when someone promised him ice cream, the same smile he had had as a teenager when a friend lent him a horror movie that was age restricted. He also smiled like that when he was about to walk on stage. Ka-yu wondered how he still looked so innocent.

He kissed him gently, his chest suddenly feeling very tight with tenderness.

Yasu reached up, pushing his hands underneath ka-yu’s shirt. He could feel his warm fingers digging into his back. For some reason it made him chuckle. Yasu’s touch made him giddy.

Once more, he kissed down his throat, caressing his chest with his hands. He cupped his nipple with his lips, hearing yasu inhale sharply as he teased it with his tongue.

He wondered if it would be okay to undress now. His erection was pressing against his pants painfully.

He couldn’t wait to see yasu naked. He couldn’t wait to thrust into him and hear him call out his name.

Rubbing his nose against yasu’s neck he whispered:

“I want to be inside of you already.”

Yasu’s hands stopped caressing his skin underneath the shirt. Instead they found their way onto his neck. Yasu was holding on to him, meeting his gaze.

“I’m not ready for that yet”, he owned up quietly.

He sounded apologetic but not deeply sorry about it. He sounded as if it was natural that ka-yu would understand.

“I really enjoy this, but I’d rather take it slow. I don’t want to have sex with you tonight.”

Ka-yu groaned and buried his face at yasu’s neck. He could smell his shampoo like that. Fruity and clean.

“Okay, I don’t want to be impatient”, he said without looking up again. “But I honestly don’t understand. It’s not a big deal.”

Yasu’s fingers were stroking the hair at the back of his neck. It felt nice, but ka-yu realized he wanted him to look up. He lifted his head and faced yasu again.

“For me it is a big deal. You are my best friend. I don’t want to rush things and then regret it. Please understand.”

Ka-yu wanted to understand. He really tried. But the number 50 kept popping into his head. 50. That was crazy. 50 was okay for yasu, but 51 was one to many. Even if it was ka-yu.

“But you are having sex with strangers for money. Why won’t you let me do it then?”, he let out his frustration, careful not to raise his voice.

He didn’t want to scare yasu. He did not want to make him feel bad by judging him.

“I’m doing what?”, yasu asked flatly.

Obviously, he did feel judged, because his expression looked very sober all of a sudden.

“I know it’s only three weeks”, ka-yu tried to play it down. “It’s just a little frustrating. Why them but not me?”

Yasu had stopped caressing his neck now, pushing against his chest. He did it very gently. His expression wasn’t upset, either. He seemed quite calm, but ka-yu took the hint and climbed down from his body, so yasu could sit up.

“Why …”, yasu began, but broke off. “What exactly do you think I’m doing as a part time job?”

Ka-yu looked at the sheets in front of him. It felt like a trick question.

“Well, you are working as a companion. You are meeting with people to … you know. You are a prostitute.”

“I’m working in customer service, ka-yu!”, yasu shouted, so sudden and loudly that ka-yu looked up in surprise.

Yasu’s hands were gesturing in the air as if they were too angry to stay calm right now.

“My job is to answer customer mails for a company that sells women’s handbags. That’s what I was doing on your computer! I wasn’t finished with my 50 replies for today yet, but still I came over because you asked me to and then you were all bitchy because I didn’t have time for you. And now you are calling me a whore?”

“I thought …”, ka-yu stuttered. “So, it’s 50 mails per day!”

He was kind of relieved. Now, the number seemed to make a lot more sense.

After the relieve came the shame. He had insulted yasu. He had made a fool of himself.

“Wait, you thought I was …”

Angry lines were showing on yasu’s forehead.

“50 people per day?! I’m not a machine, ka-yu!”

He shook his head and for a moment it was impossible to tell if he wanted to shout some more or burst out laughing.

Ka-yu watched him inhale deeply. His bare chest heaved.

“What for fuck’s sake made you think I was a hooker?”, he asked somewhat calmer. “I came here, used your computer and then wanted to chat with you. So, where was that crazy idea coming from?”

Ka-yu blushed. He felt his cheeks heat up violently. He was embarrassed by his own stupidity. Was embarrassed by what he had thought of yasu.

“Actually, I … I booked someone. And he was supposed to just show up, but then it was you on the doorstep and … I got confused”, he owned up.

Yasu shook his head once more.

He shuffled over to the edge of the bed, placing his feet on the floor. It looked as if he was about to get up.

“You booked a prostitute. You booked a male prostitute. And as if that’s not weird enough, your first thought when your best friend comes over is >oh, surely that guy is doing it for money<? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I did not want to be alone”, ka-yu said quietly.

Yasu picked up his shirt from the floor and put it back on. He was still sitting at the edge of the bed.

“I don’t like being alone either, ka-yu, but …”

He paused and blonde hair fell across his face. He looked hurt, ka-yu realized.

The shame burned hot like fire in his veins.

“I don’t understand how you could think something like that of me. You should know that I would never do that kind of job. What do you think I have for friends, moreover? I really don’t understand. Your opinion of me must be pretty low if you assumed I would have sex with just anybody.”

He moved to get up, but ka-yu reached out for him, brushing against his arm and holding him back.

He did not know what to say, but he knew he could not let yasu leave like that.

“Are you mad at me?”, he asked quietly.

Yasu nodded. He had his back on ka-yu but did turn around now to look at him.

“Yes, yes, I am kind of mad. I thought you would know me better than that. But maybe I am the one who doesn’t know you at all. You are the one who hired a prostitute after all.”

“I’m sorry”, ka-yu breathed out.

Yasu was absolutely right.

“I don’t think badly of you.”

“What’s worse”, yasu said sharply, before he had quite finished as if the thought had just hit him. “You would have taken advantage of that. You think so badly of me that you assume I would fuck random strangers for money, but you would have accepted that if it meant I would have let you do it, too. What kind of person treats his best friend like that?”

Suddenly, his hand slammed down on the bedsheets. It looked as if he would have preferred to hit ka-yu.

“Fuck”, he said.

For a moment they both stayed silent.

“In my defence”, ka-yu finally said. “I felt very uncomfortable about having sex with you under those circumstances, but you kept saying it was fine, so I thought you wanted to.”

“You didn’t seem to feel uncomfortable about it just now.”

Yasu nodded towards the rumpled sheets.

Ka-yu felt himself blushing again.

“Trust me”, he stated dryly. “I’m feeling more and more uncomfortable about it by the minute now.”

To his surprise, it made yasu chuckle.

The laughter lifted the tension from his body. It looked a little less as if he was about to storm off.

“I can’t believe you would have had sex with me while you thought I was working as a prostitute”, he said.

“Maybe I just like you so much that I would even share you, if it meant having you at all”, ka-yu suggested. “And maybe I just like you so much that I couldn’t think badly of you, even if you did that kind of job.”

Yasu made a pout. His lips looked pink and sexy. Ka-yu couldn’t believe he had kissed him only minutes ago.

“That is a pretty good answer”, he admitted.

“Does that mean you are no longer mad?”, ka-yu asked.

Yasu smirked and shook his head.

“No, I’m still mad”, he said calmly.

Ka-yu believed him.

“But you are not going to leave?”, he assured.

Yasu sighed.

“No, I’m not”, he confirmed.

Then he climbed onto the bed again, laying down in his clothes and staring at the ceiling. Ka-yu thought he still looked a little tense, though. Therefore, he did not dare to get close to him yet. For a few minutes, he just sat there in silence.

“What does this mean for us now?”, he asked in the end.

Yasu did not turn his head to look at him. Ka-yu was glad to find him smiling, though.

“It means you are allowed to hold me in your arms now”, he said. “And maybe – but only maybe – kiss me again tonight.”

Ka-yu’s heart fluttered.

He wasn’t forgiven yet. But he would be. And yasu wasn’t a prostitute.

He lay down next to him, rolling to his side so his face was close to that of the vocalist. He put his arms around him, his hand resting on his stomach. The flimsy fabric of his shirt felt smooth under his touch. Underneath it, yasu’s skin was very warm.

“That feels very nice”, he stated after a while, his thumb drawing lazy circles on yasu’s belly.

He seemed relaxed now. Both of them were.

“Yes”, yasu agreed. “It’s 1000 yen per minute.”

Ka-yu laughed. Yasu’s joke at caught him off guard. It still seemed a little too soon for jokes.

“So expensive”, he protested.

“I’m worth it.”

Yasu’s body trembled in his arms as he chuckled. That also felt very nice.

Ka-yu pressed a short kiss against his cheek. At first, yasu tensed up, but then he shuffled closer instead. Ka-yu could smell his shampoo again. Fruity and clean, still.

“I’m glad you are here”, he confessed in a whisper. “You are always my favourite company.”

And maybe – only maybe – he would be allowed to kiss him again tonight.

[mybookje]

-Introduction- We all have to walk in this life from birth, youth, adulthood, to old age; though sometimes life gets cut off sooner as with the deaths of my baby in 1958 at 3 months old, to the suicide of my youngest, 19 year old son in 1999, who was bi-polar. We don’t know where that road will lead us when we start out. Some of us walk with the Lord as young children and never walk away from His word. While others may trust in their own judgment and have a harder time.  There are those that have an unteachable spirit, and continue to go around that mountain over and over again.  The road we take sometimes is full of bumps, pain, and suffering, and it is never straight and narrow, but full of potholes. The world now is violent, with all the shootings, and acts of global terrorism.  We need wisdom, on how to live and conduct ourselves as Christians for the world is watching us.  When we rely on our Savior and learn to trust HIM more than ourselves; it builds our faith walk in HIM. Without God to lead us down that road, it would be an impossible task to rely solely on self and man. In the endless pursuit of things that never satisfy, from riches to “toys”, our souls become dead and dissatisfied, empty and void.  The more you get the more you want, when in stark opposition, God just wants us to give our hearts to Him, as well as help Him, and all the things we were looking for, suddenly are unimportant and become nothing when the Holy Spirit fills us. As an artist and writer, one who worked for non profits, and state legislature young; I can only say to God, all right, here I am alone with you, Give birth to me and use me and my experiences for others; for I’m where He wants me to be at these times, alone with Him to create for you the reader, (now with a generation that doesn’t read and could benefit), my heart and how God does restore.  Refreshing the spirit to give HIM the glory.  I hope this book inspires those that read it, to look beyond their circumstances, and to HIM, for only God can provide the strength and faith to walk that Restoration Road.                                                                          Copyright original 2002                         In Memory William Brigham Ellery nee/Worthen                                                         4-9-80    - 10-                                    Born again 8/2/91                                                                                                  Forward I watched many years back on C-Span a meeting of women at Harvard University speaking on women and international freedom.  I listened as then, host Swanee Hunt spoke of Croatia and An old woman named Sophia, who’s job it had been to ring the town’s church bell.  When the soldiers came in, they shot at the church and shot the bell down and it lay on its side.  But, everyday this woman still grabbed the ringer and pulled its heavy weight to still ring this bell. She saw it as a symbol, not to focus on our own circumstances, and to have “victim” thinking, but to rise above it, as ALL Christians and conservatives must do now in American lest we lose our Freedoms!   Before my son died October 31, 1999, I thought I had already gone through all the pain and Suffering there was to endure. I was so wrong.  We never know what lies ahead and as I begin This book, my healing is still in process.  I had seen my first baby die when I was only 19, of SID when she was 3 months old. I endured battered women’s syndrome, divorces, abuse, desertion, the deaths of my parents, and survived an apartment fire, when this son of mine was only 9 months old.  I survived an finally found answers to my own suicide attempts when in my early 30’s to find I had Personality/anxiety disorder (ie post traumatic stress syndrome to battered women’s).  Then went through all my son’s 19 years of depression after puberty hit, with misdiagnosed Adhd, and hypomania depression with bi-polar disorder to end in his suicide in 1999. (Not to mention I went through cancer twice.) Through it all I had to face estrangement from some family members, friends that rammed, instead of showing compassion, and I suffered a mini stroke on top of it all.  Others I thought were my Christian friends and baby sat my son young, never even sent a card, never mind go to his funeral.  And THAT really hurt.  Did I want to give up? Does life sometimes seem so unfair that we get angry at God? What about all the families that have suffered in our attack on America 9/11 with terrorism. How many actually blamed Him? Are we being judged? I enclose this poem in my last book that one of my sons counselor’s sent me.  I value this and Hope it blesses.:    I ask God for strength    And God gave me difficulties to make me strong.    I ask God for wisdom…    And God gave me problems to solve.    I ask for prosperity…    And God gave ne brain and brawn to work.    I asked for courage..    And God gave me danger to overcome.    I asked for love….                                                                               And God gave me troubled people to help.                                                                         I asked for favors….     And God gave me opportunities.     I received NOTHING I wanted…     I received everything I needed! “May your path be bright and full of light everywhere you go. And, I pray your feet will never stumble out of God’s plan.  May the desires of your heart come true, and may you experience peace in everything you do.  May goodness, kindness, and mercy come your way. And, may you gain wisdom and grow in the Lord everyday.”  Author unknown. I heard a teaching on Luke 10:25-37.  Love is not love until it is given away. Family sometimes “say” they “love” you...But…There is always a “BUT”…and it’s estrangement, and sometimes Unsaved it is still with emotional abuse.  So, I hope and pray this book enlightens.  Because you Cannot “love” someone without showing it. The old adage that “actions speak louder than words, Applies.  Love is to BE given away.   That is Jesus love.  The agape’ love of compassion that HE had.  God is love.  Compassion moves you.  In verse 33 the Samaritan was moved in passion.  (Not selfishness…not self centeredness.)  We put on blinders, excuses to “other’s” needs where God could manifest himself in your life.  People may “love” you in their own way, from a distance, but, is that love manifested? No. They put on blinders.  Only Jesus can break through a hardened heart.  Like the woman with the bell.  She moved with compassion and stirred up the people even after death and destruction all around her,  Someone said once, “In a dictatorship people suffer without complaining.  In a democracy (Republic) people complain without suffering.”  When Christ died on that Cross at Calvary for our sins, self died too.  To follow Him is to deny “self”. I’ve heard all the excuses, that “I’m too busy, my kids are my priority, I’m working, can’t give you what you need…all excuses.  I’m sure that there are many of you who may read this that have unsaved and/or dysfunctional families and I’m sure many whose loved ones don’t have a clue to our Christian walk.  But, the Lord enabled me to be not only a survivor (never a victim), but, an overcomer! He and HE alone has walked me through all the tragedies in my life. Failure, I’d heard if refusal to get up one more time, and I know that I know God isn’t finished with me yet. I have never escaped the fire.  I had to go THROUGH it, as did Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in Daniel. They were thrown into the fiery furnace seven times hotter than ordinary. Their faith was tested as mine over and over. And they stood the test, cause Jesus was the 4th man in that furnace! Here they were in Babylon with the great hanging gardens which King Nebuchadnezzar created…the walls, as a fortress.  When he made himself King, he had a huge Golden image of himself made, 100 feet high.  Everyone was ordered to bow and chant how great he was acknowledging him as a god.  Shortly after these men arrived and saw their blood                                                              froze in their veins, but remained standing.  They did not bow down to a false God.  Rather witnessed the Lord to the King.  “Thou shalt have no other Gods before me.” Exodus 20:3. Then the king threw them into the fiery furnace.  They not only stood the test, but the fourth Jesus, appeared in the furnace with them.  Alleluia!  He not only subdued the crackling Flames, but, they all came out unharmed! America and our overwhelming compassion and attacks on tv as our lives furnaces are very real. It is anything that comes to destroy our lives, sickness, unemployment temptation, to sin, as well as tests and unhealed relationships including families that have dysfunctions, and now our war on terror, not to mention the media frenzy on this President.  When the fire rages, we have decisions to make.  We can compromise by getting so discouraged and giving in and giving up and throw aside our hope, letting the devil have his way, or we can believe that God has the power to help us.  We are now a country under siege, and we HAVE to come together.  This is the hour in these end times, that God is calling upon us to choose the way of faith to stand tall before HIM. Some, can’t understand that God always is the final judge.  Peter said to count it all glory. Satan Wants to destroy and he wants us to hate one another, while God allows pain to use us, and he cannot use a vessel that is not a witness for HIM.  I am HIS property.  And he has shown me so many things over the years.  This book, my lessons learned, my pain, my joys, and my hope in a future, is for all of you who read, as we never know what God will put in our path.  An act of nature can destroy a home, as our World Trade towers. A child in this day of violence can be shot dead in a school supposedly safe, EVEN Christians. We never know whether it may be our last day on earth and should live accordingly.  When you fail to forgive you destroy the very bridge of which someday you may have to cross.  My prayer that all families, races and churches, restore, and stop the hate…my walk, my “Restoration Road.”                                                                                                                    Chapter 1                         Salvation And Its Misconceptions When I was a  child growing up, I was brought up in a Congregational conventional church. My dad with his powerful strong, operatic tenor voice, always sung solos for Christmas and Easter and all other special occasions.  By the time I was a teenager, I was teaching Sunday school.  As I recall, now, I wonder just what I was taught, because I knew absolutely nothing, really, about the Bible. I was not saved, nor was it taught. Salvation I believe, comes from a longing, a need, a hunger for something or someone else to be our rock, our fortress. A supernatural power with the promise of eternal life, we all need. We all want love, acceptance, and someone to care about us.  Unfortunately, in our lives we cannot always depend on family, or one another.  It sometimes just doesn’t work out that way. It took me many years of floundering trying to do things in the natural and “self” to finally Understand. I remember seeing preachers on tv after crumbled marriages, and my father’s death.  I watched one evangelist and didn’t know one iota of what he was preaching about.  I only knew that by that time I felt alone (with a 2 year old) and needed desperately.  Whatever this man had, his faith, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, I wanted it all.  When he prayed that salvation message over the tv screen, I went down on my knees and accepted Christ as my savior. Later, when my daughter lay in a hospital after an accident, I saw him up in Portland, Maine, and received prayer and confirmation.  From then on, I was born again; and my life began again…new..and in Jesus! Not long after God opened up a church for me where I stayed for 16 years, learning, absorbing like a sponge. Jesus Christ lived for thirty years as a young man who was a carpenter, Rabbi, later.  At the end of his 30 years, He was called by God to start his public ministry.  He was baptized in the Holy Spirit and fasted 40 days. By the time of the Last Supper, when he went to the Mount of Olives in the Garden of Gethsemane, he was about to pay a horrible, agonizing price. The magnitude of that price was horrific.  When he prayed in Matthew 26:39m “Father, if it is Possible take this cup away from me.  But, I want YOUR will not mine. He knew that he would have to suffer a tremendous physical price. The many beatings followed by horrible. Agonizing death by crucifixion. Even worse, he knew the price that had to be paid in the spiritual realm. Jesus, who had never sinned, knew that he had to actually become sin in order to pay the price For our sins. “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in HIM we might become The righteousness of God.” II Corinthians 5:21. His was so great that He actually sweat blood.  His blood vessels broke and blood was excreted through his sweat glands.  God sent an angel to strengthen him.  “Then an angel from Heaven appeared and strengthened him, for he was in such agony of spirit that he broke into a sweat of blood, with great drops falling to the ground as he prayed more and more earnestly. Luke 22:43-                                                                       44.  No one preaches the BLOOD anymore. The BLOOD SHED AT THE CROSS! Jesus life was sacrificed as the last blood offering. Somehow, the impact of that hit me even harder with my son’s suicide.  My wrongful death suit is not for any other reason (as I go into later), his life too, in misunderstandings was sacrificed unnecessarily I believe with all my heart.  And his blood cried out for justice and vindication from the grave.  Those that have murdered, like the Ramsey girl way back, or those in violent terrorist attacks around the world in here, or lives lost on the battlefield.  Their blood cries out from the grave.  Because as I state later, death is not cheap with God! We do not have a right to complain over our circumstances and wallow in self after we have become saved.  Jesus paid such a price for our sins.  He died that we might live and live in HIM. None of us will ever be perfect as He in this lifetime; we all come short. But, we have no right to take our salvation so lightly.  When we are saved, we must lose self. It thereafter, “THINE WILL be done.”  The Lord’s prayer, not ours. If God is love, then WHY does he love us?  Because He IS love, He cannot keep from loving us. (Harder by far when WE try with our own estrangements isn’t it?)  He will love us no matter what.  Will we? None of us, in all our sins, and problems are alien to Him…and that included my 19 year old suicidal son…JUST as much as my other 3 children (2 daughters saved maybe…and a son bound in addictions).  He knew them ALL in my womb…my BJ, bipolar and all…my Evy, when you were in my womb 5 mos pregnant and your father threw me out of a car and I lay there bleeding.  When I consciously, unsaved that night and conceived my son, at 39 years old, asked God, “am I doing the right thing?”  HE knew right then and there all the problems that we would eventually face with his illness.  And He knew from whence all the abuses handed down to my oldest as well, that Greek heritage, I was married into in the 1960’s, and all the estrangements and vie from control, hates, thereafter….. I believe God wants the best for us because he loves us so much. I also believe that part of my young daughter’s problems were because she chose to stay as a teenager in that abuse, with her father, brother on drugs, to have failed marriages too. Because of her rejections, she stayed in that house of generational curses, AND inherited and still living in it even saved, not delivered! She was taught all that inbred controlling behavior all her life. Whereby, it is hard for women especially, that come out of all this, to accept a loving God as their father.  If you haven’t known a real earthly father, then you put on a block of resistance to the magnitude of our Heavenly Father.  I think this is where a lot of churches fail in ministering to these people.  I jus pray that one day this revelation starts getting taught. Thank God I had an earthly loving father, and I was the apple of my daddy’s eye.  It was easier for me, and I fought young, even in attempted feminism and unsaved, not to have “victim” thinking.”  Poor me, me, me, me…the world owes me, take take take, wallow in self pity. I’ve seen it over and over including with a dear friend that went through violent physical abuse in her marriage.  But she knew her Bible.  But, these women are sometimes unable to trust again.                                                                               I implore pastors to show more compassion for women who have gone through abusive relationships, for you know not what it has done to them.  And many now have no compassion, with churches  floating a new gospel, (like A W Tozer’s, the Old Cross and the New.”  It’s a gospel without judgments and consequences. Go to church on Sunday, back in the world on Monday.  It doesn’t work that way!  Self esteem comes not just through the counseling process, but the enveloping compassion and joy of Jesus Christ, and all he did shedding His blood at the Cross for our sins.   Have you ever had anyone purposely stab you in the back?  That friend perhaps, an employer, a fellow employee, or a divorced spouse, or even those from church?  Once you may have really felt a kinship to this person and trusted him/her.  Or this spouse that is now estranged and stabbing you in the back seeing other women/men.  When the kids are involved, he backstabs or the new mate does, using you as a pawn.  My Greek ex-husband did that to me, and so did his mother, with my children in the middle.  They can’t sit down in the spirit of Christ and work out their disagreements.  But, it’s impossible to be truly holy without honoring our Lord’s command that we must love one another.  If you are truly saved, and love God with all your heart, then you must love your neighbor as yourself…AND family.  Matthew 22:37-40 “If a man say, I love God and hates his brother (mother, etc.) he is a liar; for he that loves not who he has seen , how can he love God whom he has not seen?”It is difficult, therefore, to love others if we don’t love ourselves.       As one once said on love, it isn’t true unless it is given away. Also one step further, if we don’t love ourselves, we can’t give it away what we don’t have.  We need to balance that area of self and giving of self.  If you can’t learn to love yourself as God loves you, how do you expect others to love you? Have you known people that constantly need other’s around them? Never can be alone? And when they are, they have to have on loud music or the tv, and cannot take silence?  How can God minister to anyone without that real silence? They hate themselves, and can’t face Themselves.  Therefore, they need “props” all around them.  We as Christians, shouldn’t need props around us, as someone preached once, it isn’t by hoopla and noise…SOUNDING BRASS, but, through our SPIRIT…GOLD…in silence that the still small voice of God, speaks to us. It is through scripture, hearing the word, reading the word, in meditation and prayer alone in our prayer closet that He speaks to us.  We can’t make other’s feel good about themselves, if we don’t “get it”. Loving and obeying demands some “suffering in the flesh”. That is why so many today are waxing (growing) cold.  Matthew 24:12 Cold love is words without action.  Words are easy, but action requires a sacrifice.  Remember hearing, “Talk is cheap?” Well love is expensive if given away.  True love costs something.  I loved this son I lost and I believe I learned through BJ, just how unconditionally God loves us.  There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for this young man. If that’s how I felt, and how I spent so many years in courts, with psychiatrists, doctors, trying To find answers and a diagnosis, all devoted to him and nothing helped.  And that magnitude of how much God loved me and loved my son, to take him Home, became a reality.  What I did all those years was nothing compared to the magnitude of love HE has for us. (I did nothing to                                                                 deserve His love, but, I had to trust him.) When He allowed my son to come home, Jesus had the keys, and He will with me now too, and will with my other three children as well. By doing for others, it is a manifestation of the fruits of goodness.  Love edifies and encourages People instead of tearing down.  I Corinthians 13, the fruits of the spirit.  Love is patient love is kind, not puffed up.  Charity suffers long and envies not, and never fails.  Then it says in verse 11, “when I was a child I spake as a child, but, when I became a man, I put away childish things. “Ecclesiastes 3 says, “all of youth is vanity.” If we are growing in Christ and have been saved for a time, then the things of the past are vanity…for we are nothing, and have nothing if we don’t have Jesus kind of love.  Our relationships with others and God are all interconnected.  And if, saved, we still cannot love each other, if there is a conscious intentional effort to avoid and hurt another person, then God’s love is not manifested in your lives.   Satan wants cold love.  He doesn’t want us to love anybody especially our family or family of God.  You don’t tell your members in your church to “shun” someone that left. That is control and manipulation, and fear. (Abuse)! That is not of God.  A door should always be open for those who want to return.  I implore you all to allow God to make you a blessing to others. There seems to be a selfishness today, especially I noticed with baby boomers or (snowflakes), and the only way to overcome that is Jesus.  Today’s youth can’t cook from scratch, most illiterate, and can’t or won’t read.  Girls don’t even know how to hem or thread a needle. They don’t know how to work themselves up in the workplace and build a resume, or ask questions and pick the brain I used to say, of someone more intelligent.  All they know how to do is get out an protest. That is NOT the God I serve! I’m implore you to read, learn history, world history..proper English and math.   Never stop learning.  There is nothing in our past that God can’t mediate and heal.  But, that healing can’t be mended when those in leadership or friends are too proud they can’t take correction themselves and are so full of arrogance and pride all they do is inflict pain. If you prove something by scriptures, you should be humble enough to apologize for Jesus said, in Matthew, unless you forgive your brother/sister, our Father in Heaven won’t forgive you! You cannot hold yourself above reproach.  The truth’s ALWAYS gets found out! All you have to do is look at Washington. Some that are Christians too, are so afraid to witness the Lord to the lost, maybe these tests will Help some of you that need to witness to your own families or friends, those you may work with. “Not today.’  Why not? What better thing could you possible have to do?  AND you WILL be accountable to God one day, standing on that judgment seat, what will your excuse be?  Joshua 24:15 says, “Choose you THIS day.” I Kings 18:21 says, “How long hath thee?”  Proverbs says, “Boast not thyself of tomorrow.” Isaiah 55:6 says, “While he may be found.” .Matthew 24:44 “in such an hour as ye think not.” Luke 12:19-20 “Thou fool.” Acts 22:16 says “Now why tarriest thou?” And II Corinthians says “Now is the accepted time.” In other words, if your equipped with the right verses, you can lead the lost to the Lord.  Love and compassion covers a multitude of sins. Another excuse is “it’s too late.”  Ezekiel 33:19 says, “If the wicked turn, he shall live. Matthew 20: 6 says “Why stand ye her all the day idle?” John 3:3 says, “Unless a man be born again he                                                                             will not enter the Kingdom of God.” Romans 10:13 says, “Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord , shall be saved.”  Many preachers still do not even preach salvation.  Hard to believe in this age of Evangelical tv.     I pray that they wake up and get convicted.  God, they must see the error of their ways. You can’t control another person and take away their freedom…nor freedom to form Their own discernment and thinking. For Jesus is a heart matter, from the Holy Spirit, not legalism.  No one can rule over another adults life, that is abuse, even doctrines or legalism in churches (the House of God).  That is why so many church hop. That is why there is so much hesitation in reaching people to come to salvation.  God is love. Salvation should be freedom from past and freedom to pray, and love God as HE (through the Holy Spirit) gives us direction.  I am me, as GOD created me…faults and all. Just as He knew my son in His image, bi-polar, ADD, this chemical imbalance in the brain.  He knew my son in my womb and every hair on his head. HE created my BJ, and loved him as he does you and me.  I am saying that for this: I am me an I am not a clone. I think meditate, have opinions, ideas, went through tests and trials, hardships, that others could never imagine or experience,  But, I am me, and entitled to my own voice and opinions, intelligence, and not be denigrated, or write books that are not censored, both as a human being;  my First Amendment Rights to free speech, and as a woman , mother, and Christian that wants to voice my experiences and injustices. I am not a little clone to be someone’s doormat, I am as God created.  And he did not let me go through all I did to sit back and do nothing, but, what HE puts in my heart. In Matthew 22:32 Jesus said, “I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob  God is not the of the dead, but the living.  But it didn’t say not to pray for a soul who died. 22:29-30 says, “Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures, nor the power of God.  For in the resurrection they neither marry, nor are given in marriage, but are as Angels of God in Heaven.  (Our new glorified bodies in Christ.) But, it doesn’t say not to pray. The Bible further states in I Peter 4:4-6 when Pete said this, “Wherein they think it strange That ye run not with them to the same excess of riot, speaking evil of you. Who shall give account to him that is ready to him who is ready to judge the quick and the dead.  For this Cause was the gospel preached ALSO to them that ARE dead…that they might be judged According to men in the flesh, but live accordingly to God in the spirit.” And verse 8 says “And above all things have fervent Charity among yourselves, for charity shall cover the Multitude of sins.” WHAT ever happened to charity?  Some of us Christians have become the most offensive spiritual bigmouths of all time. Uncharitable, insensitive people bent on their own agenda, not the Gospel of Christ!  God and only God is the final judge on whether a persons soul gets to Heaven.  IE C.S. Lewis’s book “Mere Christianity” on how does God judge us.  If we catch them on the way out and they accept salvation or if we pray for their soul as firemen sometimes do. It is not up to us to judge. In time of tragedy when someone cries out “God save me,” I believe HE answers just as the thief on the Cross next to Jesus! He is still a God of Love, Mercy, AND Grace!                                                                         How many of us can sing praises through our troubles or persecutions? But, that is what we are told to do.  That’s hard.  I could finally “say” praises to God after my son’s death, but, sing?  It took me three years of healing and a mini stroke. Salvation and coming to the Lord is the easy part.  If you are ready.  If you in some cases as I did, came to the end of yourself.  And my precious son and baby girl, I know are both home with Jesus.  I will utter a prayer of thanksgiving, until God takes me home.  The walk isn’t easy. No one said it was going be all perfect once we got saved.  It is not happy clappy, all is well, as He is not a Santa Clause as God will allow tests an trials to build our faith, to mold us like clay in HIS image.  Without true repentance at that Cross it is just works.  A cold heart produces cold prayer.  A warm heart produce’s a prayer of compassion.  Holy Ghost prayer..and tongues is the secret language between you and God that the devil cannot decipher.   Revelations 4:15-16 “I know thy works, I’d rather ye be cold or hot, for if you are lukewarm I will spue thee out of my mouth.”  That means lost salvation, and divine retribution, period the end.                                                                    Salvation Prayer Dear Lord Jesus, I know realize I am a sinner.  I ask you Lord for forgiveness and truly repent of my past.  I accept the fact that you died on that Cross for my sins. You shed your blood on the Cross for the sins of mankind because you love me and this world so much.  I now open my heart’s door and receive you as Lord and Savior of my life. Please take full control of me and help me to be the kind of Christian you want me to be.  I ask this all in our name Father God, and that you’ll lead me in a church that you want me to be.  I love you Jesus.  Thank you Amen. If you truly prayed and repented, meant this with all your heart, you are saved.  It isn’t religion, or a church, but a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.  I pray the rest of this helps your walk. If this woman can still survive in faith,  so can you.  God loves you and so do I.                                        Winter The birds are beginning to hover on window feeders, My woodpecker family on suet so needed. The small finches and all other birds as well, Along with fall leaves, so many colors that fell. Rain storms are beginning with high cold winds, Tell us that a long winter is about to begin. Shorter days will ensue with longer nights, Listening to storms filled with snow and ice. Winter now is around the corner. Getting harder in age as we still wander, In arthritis, bones creek with the cold. Running our errands, winters’ become so bold, The solstice so beautiful with fresh fallen snow, Another winter to go through as we get old. Remembrance of families on Christmas and holidays, Of happier days when there was laughter and love,                                                                           You learn to accept the things you cannot change, The long winter’s just cannot be feigned. So now in age, you find peace and contentment,                                                                     The past behind, a winter anew without resentment. Even my cats have now matured and got older. Hardly intrigued by the birds as it gets colder. Winter now is tranquil and beautiful to watch, The anxieties of youth, gratefully, forever lost.                       J Worthen 2001                                                                                   CHAPTER 2                  Growing in God I’d like to speak on grace.  Presumably you have become saved, whereby, it is on that premise that I continue. There are only two ways a believer can establish or strengthen his heart by grace or works.  For a new Christian just recently saved, they have not naturally had the teachings that many of us have had after being saved 5-20+ years.  So we refer to these new Christians as baby Christians, still on milk.  When they have walked in the Lord for some time, and received “with a humble spirit” the teachings of Christ, we say they are now on “meat”. “Meats” refers to the sacrificial offerings which the priests ate.  Hebrews 13:9. “For it is a good thing that the heart be established with grace, not with meats, which have not profited them that have been occupied therein.”  They had no right to eat that which was served in the tabernacle.  The Jewish Christians who were the first recipients of the epistle understood the Hebraism, of “meats” to refer to the ceremonial rituals, etc. of Levitical law.  In short, they understood “meats” to mean “works”. But then it goes on to say that it is a good thing that the heart be established with grace. Hebrews makes it clear that good woks does not get you into Heaven; which maybe as a “works mentality”, because God still requires “good works”. Ephesians 2:10 which result from His working THROUGH His people.  Two things to notice about legalistic works or “dead” works in Hebrews 6:1, 9-14 are that works do not profit and works occupy.  So when we are a work-a-holic or always have an excuse, “I don’t have time”?  It is dead works by self..and, self-imposed or it is works by grace and the power of God?  Do we let God lead us through His Holy Spirit and His Work, or are we always still in the “world” doing our own thing in self? Are we serving? Or are we being served? I’ve heard pastors say over and over how we must be open and be a servant of God.  We all have Certain gifts and we all can be used in some way for our church.  If you are saved and not active in a church, or church hopping all over the place finding fault, never grounded, then God is not Manifesting himself in your life and there is something wrong in your spirit not to receive His Grace and mercy. Something is wrong. Legalism is a futile effort.  They have such misguided regulations which have never proven useful and place so much dependence on doing this “this” way or faultfinding, etc. that they get no benefit. A works mentality does not promote true godliness.  It is bound in legalism and law, and produces an unloving Christian, that becomes judgmental and harsh.  It is man’s attempts to BE like God.  It doesn’t work. It stops grace an mercy from manifesting and brings on a critical                                                                 Spirit.  We can try, though out OWN law of works, self-efforts, or various exercises to fulfill through human ability the righteousness of God’s word in our lives.  Maybe we start out in Earnest, but our means of going about it are all wrong.  There is no grace with law. We’ve all sooner or later been around Christians that are always complaining and have such a critical spirit.  I was guilty of this and had to overcome in my early walk too.  We get spoiled I heard say.  We run to all the big evangelists when they come into town, and different churches when they have a guest, then come back with our comparisons and fault find our own church. That is not to say we shouldn’t reach out and visit like this, but we need balance.   That goes back to milk and a preaching I heard once on the development of the child of God.  A New “baby” Christian cannot possibly be in their walk with the Lord and knowledge, where someone is that has been saved 20-40 years.  We all receive and get through the Holy Spirit speaking to us, something different in the same sermon preached.   Because of MY circumstances, I  may have something “click” and minister to me totally, totally different from my neighbor.  We both sit in the same row, listen to the same words, and get two different messages to work on our hearts.  That is the development of the child of God.  I may actually even get the whole message.  I mean sometimes I really “get it”. That is a breakthrough, but not all of us are blessed that way.  If there are new Christians that are not yet that deep in the Lord and prayer, then they cannot be expected to receive as we do, but with the Gods grace and mercy, if we are careful not to alienate them and turn them away by our critical judgments, they, one day will have it click and understand. Remember if you read your Bible before you were saved?  Did it register?  It sure didn’t when I was a  teenager teaching Sunday School.  It was dead works…legalism.  When I got saved I remember being so new in Christ.  I wanted it all so fast. It doesn’t work that way and is a long process, as our EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT lets God work IN us and THROUGH us. And if by grace, then it is no more works. Romans 11:6 If we mix grace and works it is like comparing water and oil than through law.  And Christ would have died on that Cross in vain. If right living comes by “self” then He lives needlessly inside you and you give credit to your own righteousness.  We begin our Christ by grace and His mercy that loved us, and it should continue on in our walk through God and the Holy Spirit in our lives in love.  If He loved us so deeply to take all He did, then why can’t we learn to be humble and receive His love and grace, to then let go of that love and give in return.  For THAT’s what its all about.  The love we receive is nothing unless we give it away. Grace strengthens us.  Although the law was holy, coming from God, it was weak through human nature and our sinfulness.  Romans 8:3.  For what the law could not do, weak as it was through the “flesh”, God gave law as a teacher to show us how to fail, then when we do fail (and through self, there is ALWAYS failure) we come to the cross in despair or even give up all together because our pride or ego is injured.  We can come back to Him again and again admitting our powerlessness and find He offers us rest.  Matthew 11:28-30 “Come unto me all ye who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my                                                                     burden is light.”  Isn’t that something?  All our struggles in the natural? For what?  Self? All self, stress, let go and let God.  Give it all to Him.  He already paid the price.  I have.  For I can do nothing on my own in the natural including saving my own son from suicide in spite of all I did.  God has a divine plan, and sometimes it may not be what we expect. If we try to obey God by legalism and self we will find how weak our strength really is. Like Peter (Greek: rock) we can pledge our undying loyalty, but like Simon (Aramaic: reed) we too, will bend when pressured.  But, for all those that got bent, Peter’s final words to us are “But grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  To Him be glory both now and forever.  Amen. 2nd Peter 3:18  We grow in grace as we turn from flesh and self and die in Jesus and surrender to Him.  What can be more beautiful than to be freshened and have our hearts strengthened by our Savior and all His grace. We live in a violent, sick world.  Not just the media, and all the shootings past and present, wars and rumors of wars, threats, now transgender ID , psychic books invading our schools. So much out there to ignite sensuality, hatreds even in ads. We are generally aware that sins are to be avoided.  Lust refers to any natural human desires, which are expressed or used from food, prestige, money, sex, hates; all that is worldly.  (IJohn 2:26)  Any human appetite, can become infected, with lust, even the power of our media.  I is even common to lust for a ministry.  And there are a lot of evangelists that came short and lusted for money and power.  America and the world now, is greedy, not only sex crazed, but hungry for power and control.  What makes it worse, is that same lust and greed can infiltrate churches. Whereby, James 1:14 said, “But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away by his own lust and enticed.  This is why Jesus in overcoming temptation to avoid the Cross, prayed, “Not my Will but THINE will be done.”  Luke 22:42.   For he told the disciples a short while earlier, to pray, that ye enter not into temptation.  Matthew 26:41 In other words just because you are a Christian and accepted Jesus as your Savior, don’t think that you cannot be enticed into temptation.  I Corinthians 6:13 says, “Now the body is not for lust but for the Lord.”  Interfering I believe that our bodies can only be used for one or the other, not for both.  If our bodies are a temple of God for him to refill the Holy Spirit, then we should pray in earnest, even though we slip once in awhile, to keep our bodies only for Him and how Hell manifest’s through us.  If a Christian has fallen prey to sexual lust grace can restore (Proverbs 6:25-27).  But those who have, have gone through a long process.   After my son died, I wrote a poem called “Something”.  I’d since retitled it to “Salvation” because this was in essence what salvation, grace, and mercy were all about…it was unseen. God was sight unseen, yet I got down enough to know His presence was there waiting. His love was always there, I just didn’t know it.                                                                                               SALVATION Something always spoke to me, Something always loved me, Something needed me…so Much I didn’t know. Somehow He spoke His love, Somehow He drew me in, Someone who doubted so. How He loved, I didn’t know, I didn’t know. God, you gave it all to me, Your love, your heart, Our very destiny. God, I need and love you so. Something, I had arise in me, Something salvations pull on me, Something, I’ll always thank you for, No matter what, I’ll love you so.                        J E Worthen 2000 Just remember humility came hard for me.  But it sets us free!  And let me tell you, I was and still am tested.   That middle ground and line where we leave off and where God takes over. God’s word tells us to do the best we can in the natural and STAND firmly on the word and faith in the Supernatural.  Ephesians 6:13 He doesn’t say to lay in bed all day and say, I’ll just stay here praying and believing and God will do it all.. Wrong!  He wants a doer of the word, not one who is idle.   We have to take some action for it to manifest.  That phone isn’t going to ring for a job if you don’t take some action.  Action is motivation.  It is also balance. And we need to stop having high opinions of ourselves.  Yet, on the other hand God doesn’t want us to be inferior.  Balance in all things.  If we yield continually by studying and meditating on God’s word, He will show us what to do, through the Holy Spirit.  One day I’ll have my new glorified body in Christ and walk streets of gold. Amen….Don’t stop believing!                            Balance The older I get, the more I seek balance, As there are so many ups and downs in life’s challenge. When the stresses really start to affect you, You need to take time to reflect what you know, If with lack of rest, you become sick and depressed, Then you need to cut back, seek balance and refresh. In all things now this balance I seek, Even in news, and media from what they speak; For out of context, even churches misguide, But that balance, so important helps us surmise, Truth from misgivings, lies, and sensationalism, But, with balance and discernment, comes truth and     rationalism. Balance in all things important decisions is needed, For emotional health, peace of mind won’t come lest     it’s heeded.                                     J Worthen 2001 For sometimes too, God holds back because our prayers involve another person.  Maybe OUR plans and prayers are different than God’s.  Maybe our prayers could have irreparable harm for another if we had our way.  We don’t know God’s reasoning.  Farmers know that they shouldn’t reap a harvest until the harvest is ready.  God knows when the harvest is ready and “when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he puts the sickle in because the harvest is come. “Mark 4:29. “He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.  Whatever He does prospers.”  Psalm 1:1-3. I believe God wants us to do the best we can sometimes under unmitigating circumstances, one day at a time and then let go and let Him take over the rest of the day plus all the tomorrows.  He wants us to shut the door to the past and problems of yesterday and the problems of tomorrow and walk with Him one day at a time, step by step.  There is no reason to be afraid of the future, when we know WHO holds the keys for the future.  Only Jesus knew that night that I made a decision to have my son, that he would end up with an illness that would take his life at only 19. Jesus knew when I asked unsaved, and He already had the answers.  We can do in the natural on our own, or we can seek.  I wasn’t saved and didn’t seek before  I lept.  But, would I have done it all again, yes, fr this boy taught me so much, I wouldn’t have missed a day of all his problems and needs, the bi-polar, for anything. God gave me my prayer…my other children, then on their own with their father of their own volition.  My BJ was Jesus property all along and only on lone to me.  When it got too much with too much pain inside this boy, God let him come home.  I don’t know if this death was God’s timetable.  It didn’t have to be. No, there were errors made by the mental health agency. Laws I didn’t know on getting custody in probate, when he was legally an adult.  Not til I met a lawyer friend when I’d won a lawsuit. But, what was the alternative?  If he wouldn’t stay on medication for the rest of his life, he’d been in and out of mental health and hospitals, as he knew too he carried the gene. He couldn’t take it anymore and came to the end of himself.  I knew BJ…In spite of all he went into, I know he cried out to the Jesus that gave him love and happiness as a child.  I know he screamed to God up there in the woods before this horrific act.  And I know my God is a God of mercy and forgiveness. Yes, I believe that God wants us to prosper in His love for us. But, then there are tragedies that occur in this life from wars, to fires and devastation, storms, shooting rampages. Christians too, Get attacked and it isn’t always as I heard before because there is sin in our lives.  The faith that Prevailed after Columbine was a witness to the world for Jesus Christ.  So I do not believe that Just because we come to the Lord, we will escape troubled things happening to us.  I don’t believe that God was punishing me when He let my son go Home.  My son made his own decision in a debilitative state of paranoia and needed help that wasn’t there. Samuel Wesley and his wife Susanna were in a marriage that was a power struggle.  She did Remain loyal until death though.  Although a woman of great natural beauty, she focused her energy on becoming a woman of deep inner beauty. (1Peter 3:1-4) While Samuel was a true Intellectual, he never slacked in scholarly study and writing.  We can diminish pain (as I had no choice to do) through creative expression.  Their home became a center of encouragement.  Life for the Wesley’s was never easy, but, it was worthwhile.  He wrote, “Though man is born to trouble, yet I believe there is scarce a man to be found upon earth but, take the whole course of his life, hath more mercies than afflictions and much more pleasure than pain.” Francis Schaeffer had begun a long search for true Christianity.  The more he tried to talk to God about the emptiness he saw in the church and in his own heart, the more discouraged he became. He searched scriptures and found no joy or peace.  He and his wife lived with severe grief and conflicts within their denomination.  They were targets along with Carl McIntire of criticism and Slander.  They experienced crisis, eviction, their two year old son’s bout with polio, a daughter With rheumatic fever.  They knew the white heat of the furnace of affliction.  He fought valiantly Against the true enemy, Satan.  He began L’Abri Fellowship in Switzerland, and wrote “True Spirituality”, and others. Rev. James Kennedy had the Christian Manefesto by Shaffer reprinted. Observers of the early Christian church commented, “see how they love one another.”  Since then the world had looked at Christians and said, “See how the hate one another.”  That is not the answer to Jesus prayer.  John 17:21.  “What desires drive us to crush our brothers and sisters in Christ?  For some the motivation is greed, ambition, or envy.  For others it is the burning desire to be right in the authoritarian sense; to have the final word.  Whereby, sorrow comes when we try to do God’s pruning FOR Him.  Sorrow should fill our hearts when we grieve the Holy Spirit by dividing the body of Christ.  Ephesians 4:30.  We should try to do battle with the real enemy, Satan.  Allow the Holy Spirit to fill us with love and aim for perfection as Shaeffer did. Then look at Charles Spurgeon, who was an immensely popular Baptist preacher, who suffered into the pits of anguish and depression, and tragedies.  The name Jesus was his strong tower of safety.  Two weeks after a fateful disaster in Surrey Music Hall in November 1856, he was back in the pulpit preaching.  Philippians 2:9 was the text that ended his depression.  He was plagued the rest of his ministry by depression, discouragement, illness and fatigue.  His wife had become a semi-invalid at 36, but, he never let go the promises that God’s grace was sufficient for him.  He fluctuated between periods of depression always preceded by fresh visitations of God’s power.  He said, “Oh, the blessedness that comes to us through suffering.”  Death claimed Spurgeon at age 57.  He published more than 3500 sermons, written 136 books, and pastored London Metropolitan Tabernacle for 38 years.  During that time his congregation grew to more than 14,000 members, as he tried to prepare Christians for dark moments.  We don’t do that now, as we throw those in a down period further down, by professing tht all is “without sorrow”. And that just is not a reality of life.  Spurgeon assured them of Christ’s love, the man of sorrows, knew how they felt when their hearts were breaking…that the Savior would bend to catch his children’s falling tears.  Through our suffering, it teaches us compassion for others.  Our pain may actually prepare us for a particular mission God has planned for us.  No matter what your emotions say, do not give up! Now, Fanny Crosby. Does the name mean anything?  Her heart ached at the death of her baby. What can’t be cured can be endured.  All she wanted was to be a wife and mother.  Her heart was hungry for love.  Teaching wasn’t enough, neither was being the schools famed “blind poetress.” She grieved over the South’s insurrection too, lives wasted.  At 43, it was ridiculous in those days to think of another child, as they didn’t have all our technology.  She pondered her life.  Even her poetry left her unfulfilled.  At that point she was introduced to William B. Bradbury. They discussed collaborating.  Fanny wanted to dance for joy.  For the next fifty one years, Fanny Crosby knew beyond a doubt what she was living for.  During that time she wrote approximately 4,000 hymns, including Blessed Endurance, and those expressing her love for God. She was never paid more than one or two dollars for her lyrics and never made more than Four hundred dollars per year.  But she felt rich.  The word handicap lost much of its meaning with Fanny.  Our prosperity is not weighted in material gain but spiritual.  And out of her modest Income she gave to the poor.  Physical handicaps put painful limits on life an in terms of education and employment, the prospects for the blind in Fanny’s day were grim.  We still struggle to bring equal opportunity to the handicapped.  She had in childhood memorized the first four books of the Old Testament, the four gospels, many psalms, the book of Proverbs, the Song of Solomon, and Ruth.  For the rest of her life, she could reach into this sacred treasure chest for resources to help her overcome her limitations.  Fanny knew the sting of life’s unfairness.  Her blindness was the result of an incompetent doctors prescription for an eye infection at 6 weeks old.   No, as I well know, life is sometimes very unfair.    2001 JE Worthen   Creativity, Art, and God I believe that when I see film or read books, on Michelangelo and his ceiling in Rome or figure of David, or see a Renoir portrait or Van Gogh’s landscape of the poppy field, in essence they are divine.  Divine is of God.  It lets us come into a realm that otherwise we might not see.  Whether by a painting, writing or whatever, the artist through his creative process, sees something that the rest of you do not.  It may be a revelation, if they are Christian, or just his own inner soul, but, that being and soul belongs to God. I’ve seen since a young girl, loving music and art, that the artist is a true servant, for God gave him all his talents.  And did you know also, that Van Gogh, who cut off his ear in his mania, was also bi-polar disorder?  But, Christian or unchristian, God gave them their talent.  An artist has the capacity to delve deeper and see what others do not, even in visions. There are many Christians who want to write stories or paint, or write music or even go into acting, and many churches or other Christians attempt to condemn and thwart that creative process.  There are many Christians without any talent, and many un-Christians with an abundance of talents.  God is no respecter of persons, and this is something  we seem reluctant to face.  God chooses His artists without any qualifications as He chooses His saints.  If we live by revelation as Christians, then we must be careful not to type-cast and be rigid to others or accept that condemnation, ourselves.  Yes, God raises up a lot of folks that have shown no talents before they come to the Lord, but, there are some churches that are so rigid they deter and condemn creative abilities ramming that person their way instead of God’s, thereby discouraging. Writers want to be published (as I did) and the painter hopes that someone likes the finished canvass (as I sold and gave many away).  Yet, there are those that don’t want anything from a particular person.  Van Gogh was denied any of his work being bought in his lifetime.  What a terrible burden and disappointment for one’s whole life.  The composer needs his music to be heard.  They are all a part of communication, so we all underestimate the importance.  When we read a book we are not desensitized and like a sponge as we are watching tv.  We are reading along with the writer, and our minds absorb and the creative process lets our imagination grow.  It’s so important that a young child be taught to read and appreciate art, even if just looking at pictures.  A child shouldn’t be in technology all the time, but have a balance that includes enrichment, and to learn an appreciation of talents. Even musicians communicate by their music.  Maybe it is a purer art form afterall.  But, when we get into Heaven its going to be filled with music and our joy and that will be our communication, not through language or words.  However, I love the English language, and I think our limited use of vocabulary here in the US has degraded so in the last several decades, that even lawyers, forget the profound use of the English word.  Instead we have replaced our language with slang, swearing, or gutturals that go hand in hand with the violence we live in, therefore vocabulary is lost.  Gone are the days, my schoolmates took elocution lessons, or we relished in public debate clubs.  No wonder today, children can’t read, and just sit through a book…it’s all technology, videos, texting, emails.  And while technology and the vision of what it can do for our future is great, there is again, no balance, and kids have lost a valuable asset.  The written English word!  How can we expect them to excel in college, or understand the written word of the Bible, if they cannot read a simple book?  Now, kids want everything fast. Look at Adam and Eve in Paradise.  How wonderful in Genesis, and beautiful the world in the garden must have looked to them.  The beautiful sunrise, the color of the sky, all the trees and animals and life all untouched by man.  All the stars, and listening to the grass growing even.  How beautiful and lovely before corruption.  That’s what the artist tries to do for the most part, is look beyond that corruption and create.  Its sad for children to be brought up entirely with instruction, Christian or otherwise; and not let a child explore their imagination.  It inhibits us and the fullness of life and imagination looses its’ meaning.  I saw nothing wrong reading Hans Christian Anderson’s tales to my children, and later C.S. Lewis.  But, Dickens and Jane Austin too, sparked our vividness for seeing how they lived in our mines.   We could picture the characters in our minds and envision as the book progressed.  Perhaps as an only child, my solitude kept me far more in touch with this world of imagination and my BJ as well, for he was an only child in every sense.  I was a voracious reader, young and still try hard to find the time. Christians sometimes have missed the mark in this, and released a confused piety, and except for the Christian gospel, have contributed absolutely nothing to the arts.  I still enjoy watching a Shakespeare play or movie, or Dickens, or Jane Austin on PBS, or movie, or watching the Opera, and loved the three tenors.  I enjoy good jazz yet and watching a deep play, and until recently, in pain, went to the art galleries, and museums.  I enjoy beauty.  Beauty in nature as God created, and beauty through HIS artists.  Not everything is pornographic, objectionable and “not for us Christians”.  There again, discernment.  But, we have lost our way. If I feel joy and see beauty and love in something, then as far as I’m concerned, whether Christian or not, my God created it; through the artist, musician, writer, etc. (including the secular Jewish Barbra Streisand, who once I loved to listen to. The artist at work (as I am now, and all of you other bloggers) is less bound by time and space than in ordinary life.  And we have to be less restricted in ordinary life than we are.  We cannot be limited or trapped. I’ve been writing today since about 8:30 am this morning, and it is now nearly 12am.  Sometimes I’ve written my books in 10 hour days. If I still have what is in my heart to put down, I can’t stop, and my friends sometimes don’t understand that I cannot just pick and choose my time and go right back where I left off.  Does anyone else feel that way?  It doesn’t work that way for me, perhaps now my age, too and losing my train of thoughts?  But it doesn’t work that way when I paint either.  There is a need to finish the project and see the end result.  God is constantly creating through us, with us, and to co-create with Gods direction is a calling that is very misunderstood by churches.  When I’m working, unless I have advanced meals prepared, I pick at peanut butter sandwiches, because I won’t take the time.  I can’t.  Creating is almost like a baby birthing inside of us.  That baby cries to come out and be heard.  Well, so does the painting and the book and music to the artist.  Billie Joel dreams music, I dream colors and get visions when God births a new painting in me.  Since a child, colors drew me in.  I love colors.  Even in stores I gravitated to the colors on a rack or a particular print.  I love my lavenders, purples, magenta, sages, and reds..brick red..pale yellows and gold…I love colors still. Ecclesiastes 7:3 “Sorrow better than laughter, for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.  Upon an instrument of ten strings, and upon the psaltery; (Hebrew, an ancient 6 string guitar)  upon they harp with a solemn sound.  For thou Lord, hast made me glad through THY work; I will triumph in the works of my hands”.  Psalm 92:3-4  God gives us our talents, which he wants us to use. Madeleine L’Engle wrote the following excerpts in “Walking on Water”, Reflections on Faith and Art”.   “We are to be children of the light, and we are meant to walk in the light, and we have been groping along in the darkness.  The creative act helps us to emerge into the light, that awful light which the disciples saw on the Mount of Transfiguration, and which the Hebrew children saw on the face of Moses when he had been talking with God on Mt. Sinai.  Even Jesus disciples wanted to trap Jesus, Elijah and Moses in the tabernacles, tame them, pigeonhole and label them, as all of us have continued to do ever since.  If my religion is true, it will stand up to all my questioning, there is no need to fear.  But, if it is not true, if it is man imposing strictures on God” (as in Galileo’s day and Pelosi’s left on abortion now) “then I want to be open to God not, to what man (or woman) says about God, playing at BEING God.  I want to be open to revelation, to new life, to new birth, to new light.” “The role of the artist is exactly the same as the role of the lover.  If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don’t see.”  I agree with this implicitly.  “The artist is someone who is full of questions, who cries them in great angst, who discovers rainbow answers in the darkness, then rushes to canvas or paper.  An artist is someone who cannot rest, who can never rest as long as there is suffering and that is divine.  The creative act is an escape from the power of time and ascent to the divine.  Most artists are aware that during the deepest moments of that creation they are out on the other side of themselves…and so are free from time, with the same joyousness that comes in the greatest moments of prayer.” When I was physically able, I enjoyed tremendously contributing my paintings in art shows here locally, and meeting with other artists.  I discovered that there is an abundance of talented people out there, who give from their heart and donate fine beauty to businesses,  galleries, and even churches.  Unfortunately, the first place schools cut back is the arts.  However, somehow, art and the rich talents of artists have survived and always will as long as God puts His light in our hearts. So, through my desolation and the pain of my son’s death 10 years ago, and on my road to restoration, I have come out of the wilderness that God placed me and birthed my creativity.  “The wilderness and the solitary place be glad for them and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.”  Isaiah 35:1  Madeleine said, “We do not judge great art, it judges us.” *From my  book, “Restoration Road” copyright 2004 Morris Publishing Note: The rest of this book is on here as photos.  And unfortunately not in order. For that I apologize.  I want to say this to young people.  Read! I mean read history, classic books. I started reading Shakespeare at only 13 still in grammar school. Learn the TRUE American history as it isn’t nor was it ever meant to be racist.  America was started by those who were escaping religious persecution. My Ancestor and his 4 sons fought in the Revolutionary War, and all were Majors, which was rare.   And while Columbus is now under attack, remember he helped Jews then in Spain and brought them here when Queen Isabella was murdering them and pogaming them (as Hitler later on.)  Many of these Jews became bankers in a new city New York who helped us win the Revolutionary War.  To give ALL of us Freedom.    God bless you who read and learn. https://majorezekielworthenrevwar.wordpress.com I want to say to young people. Don’t quit.  I am now 81.  My whole book is on here, however, the other chapters are in photos and I am sorry, not in order.  The original manuscript was on another computer. But everything God gave me, all the information, all the insight, is still here, I hope for posterity.  You see when I got saved in 1982, I’d already gone through enough. I had no place else to go after the death of my father, but, up.  I hope and pray I have left you who read, something to inspire, to get you thinking.  To never stop learning.  For this is not the world I was brought up in after WWII.  God bless you all.    My paintings: https://jeworthen.wordpress.com/2012/08/10/someofmypaintings/ https://restorationroadbyjeworthen.wordpress.com/

[haninabaninah-learning]

Musical Instruments: Adult Learning Experience

A lot of people we know who play instruments Started learning them at a very early age. Many of those who end up going to music schools learn at age 5 or 6. Mozart composed his first piece at age 5 for goodness sake! I’ve been watching TwoSet Violin and prodigies are just getting younger and younger.

I had a different experience. I started seriously learning instruments in high school.

PIANO

In my younger years, I knew how to play the really easy melodies on the piano (given that we have a piano at home and my dad and grandmother are very good pianists) - Happy Birthday song, Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars - the kind you teach 4 year olds with only one hand. Then for some reason, maybe during my first years of high school, I found myself trying to learn pieces from our electronic keyboard by following the lighted keys. I first learned Canon in D and Minuet in G. My parents were a bit shocked when they saw that I learned it from the keyboard.

***To be fair, I came from quite a musical family. As I mentioned, my grandmother and father are good pianists. My mother also knows a few classical piano pieces. My father and my brother play the guitar. My sisters sang at a choir. My dad, who is also knowledgeable in music theory, is the worship leader at our local church. Basically, nobody is tone deaf in my family. You can consider our family musical.***

From there, I started going to Youtube for song tutorials. I learned A Thousand Miles and White Houses, both by Vanessa Carlton. I learned a few other pop songs, but I don’t remember them as well as these two. I never liked reading notes, so YouTube was definitely my go-to. (Thank God for YouTube.)

I first formally took lessons (Suzuki Method) the summer before my 3rd year of high school. At first, I was intimidated because two of my classmates were very good sightreaders and they were already very good at our age. But they also became inspirations for me, that soon, I will be able to play as well as them. I loved the piano, so I practiced a lot, even at night. I finished Suzuki Book 1 upto the first 2 or 3 pieces in Book 2 that summer break. But school started again and I just didn’t go back to taking those lessons.

The more I listened to piano pieces, the more I wanted to learn and be an excellent piano player. Sadly, the excitement isn’t constant. My practice and learning jumps are often characterized by energy bursts - intense practice seasons (a few weeks) and a long hiatus (months or years). I always play on and off. But it’s always good to be reminded.

I took piano lessons in the UPCMEP after about 4 years, in the summer after my second year in uni. I was discouraged from continuing though, because my teacher was very harsh and hostile. I was totally scared of her! After graduating from uni (after about 3 years), I practiced on my own again and self-studied the rest of Suzuki Book 2 and the first few pieces of Book 3. I was fired up! I took lessons with UPCMEP again under a different teacher. She’s very kind and I love her! (Ms. Pia) Unfortunately, I had to move to Australia right after finishing the sessions. (I couldn’t even attend my own recital.) I just got back from Australia, after 2 years, and I took lessons from UPCMEP - and again under a different teacher because Ms. Pia is fully booked. She’s also a nice teacher, but I made a lot of mistakes. It felt a little bit stressful because I had other things to do, and I just felt there was a lot of homework. I think my skills weren’t at par with the expectations my teacher had. I couldn’t keep up. I was always tense during my lessons for fear of making more mistakes, which made my mind go even slower. Practice was also not fun (because of the pressure of learning many pieces/ exercises at once.) 

Now, I’m on lockdown and I can’t take the online piano lessons. I tried practicing my piece again with 0 pressure on myself, and I absolutely love it!

I might take piano lessons again, someday, when I can.

Ease of learning: 3/5

Lessons: Idk the local Teacher (Suzuki), UP College of Music Extension Program

Favorite pieces: Sonatina Op. 55 No. 2 (Kuhlau), 214 Intro (Hehe classic I love Rico Blanco)

VIOLIN

I took violin lessons during my first year of working. Aside from violin being a cool instrument that makes pop music sound grand, here is another weird reason for trying to learn violin: I liked playing melodies by ear, but I can't do it with chords. It doesn't work well on the piano, because playing single notes on it sounds very child-like. But it works on the violin. Simple tunes sound really good if you have the skill. I thought if I could get to a good level of violin skills, I could play any song I want and make it sound amazing. It would be a great addition to a band arrangement or something.

I must say - with piano it's easy to sound good as a beginner but it's hard to be an expert. With violin, however, a beginner sounds like crap. I sounded like crap (imo), most especially when I first learned with the group classes. I believe I still do.

Yes, at first I took violin lessons with a class my dad found online. I would not recommend it at all. Form and technique is very important when you are starting to learn violin, and the lack of focus on the student will be of 0 help to you. We played poor-sounding violin renditions of pop songs and Christmas songs for our recital. It's kinda sad. To be fair my classmates were all in high school and below. I was in my fourth year of uni.

After two years, I started working and I picked up the violin again (for some reason.) I started earning money and I can now (kind of) afford violin lessons. I would definitely recommend individual lessons with a teacher for violin (or I guess for learning any sort of classical instrument seriously.) I learned a lot from my teacher who was also very kind and encouraging.

Unfortunately, due to many reasons including my demands at work, my tiredness of the commute to the lesson, my innate stingyness (I still found the weekly lessons very expensive, considering my income), my spiritual issues, and my depression, it just became harder and harder for me to attend lessons. A big part of the misfortune here is that I was not being honest with my teacher about my issues, and I feel like I disrespected him along the way. :(

Someday, I would want to pick up my violin again and learn. (Or get a better quality violin, actually.) I will play that vibrato well, and enjoy beautiful songs on this instrument.

Ease of learning: 1/5

Lessons: Individual Teacher

YouTube inspo: TwoSet violin (LOL), Ray Chen, Hilary Hahn (the whole gang)

Favorite piece: I really don’t remember any of my classical pieces cause I wasn’t good enough

UKULELE

Everybody I know who plays ukulele learned it as an adult. It’s very easy to play but it’s very fun-sounding. 

I remember trying to play it many years ago when we got a cheap version, but that time, I just did not put any effort. I was a busy bee and had many other things to do. I was more 100% more interested in learning piano. On top of that, I had not yet discovered the magic of actual YouTube teachers. (I don’t know if there were uke teachers at that time already.) I basically forgot about its existence after a few weeks.

I think it was when we cleaned up that I saw our Ukulele again. At 24 years old, I was going to move to Australia - and I had to bring an instrument! I can’t bring a piano or a guitar because...how. I knew I was gonna go crazy if I can’t play music, especially if there’s nothing to do while I job-hunt. I liked singing and I really wanted to learn an instrument that could accompany my singing. I ordered a quality ukulele and moved. Being jobless in a foreign country with very little money, watching Youtube teachers and practicing was really a good way to spend my time when I’m not busy. I learned reading tabs in the process too.

I have loved the sound of fingerpicked instruments for the longest time, and I was so glad to finally be able to fingerpick songs.I am also proud of being able to “chuck”. It just adds so much dimension to the music. I still have a lot to work on (I am still horrible at strumming patterns because I suck at following beats), but I’d say I’m a fair player.

Ease of learning: 5/5

YouTube Teacher: Cynthia Lin Music

Favorite pieces - I only love fingerpicked songs lol so I love Cynthia Lin: Can’t Help Falling In Love, Here Comes The Sun, Canon in D (Pachelbel - but in key of C, lol, I haven’t finished)

CLASSICAL GUITAR

Here I am, at 26, learning classical guitar and music theory. I’ve always wanted to learn the guitar. As I mentioned, I love the sound of fingerpicked instruments. I love the sound of acoustic covers and the plucked strings. It’s so relaxing and calm.

I tried learning the guitar as a high school student, but I was overcome by my annoyance of the pain on my fingertips when I press on the strings. I was also bad at strumming patterns. (I suck at rhythm.) On top of that, I gave myself an excuse of not being able to reach most chords due to my small hands. I learned the easy chords and strumming, but it really is far from good enough.

Learning the ukulele gave me courage to start learning the guitar again. I really did want to be good at it. Luckily, as I applied for piano lessons, I figured it would be a waste to travel for 2 hours a day only for a 1-hour lesson. I thought it would be a good idea to take guitar lessons as well.

I initially just wanted ordinary guitar lessons, just so I can be forced to learn guitar for my pop songs. Apparently, they mostly (or only) teach classical guitar in UP (kind of obvious though). What a beautiful genre, though. This is my kind of music! I’m also very grateful for my kind and fun teacher- Sir Peter. He’s very encouraging!

Perhaps one of the factors of the success was also the implementation of online classes. It’s not so tiring to attend lessons because of the travel (unlike when I was learning violin). I love classical guitar now, and I’m continuing my lessons. I barely practiced and prepared for my classes before lockdown, but now I really enjoy each practice time I have. More on this on another blog post!

Ease of learning: 3/5

Lessons: UP College of Music Extension Program (Now online lessons)

YouTube additional learning: Brandon Acker, This is Classical Guitar

Favorite piece - (well I’m only starting so I have a very limited list) Andantino in G by Carulli, but I would like to learn Air on G String someday

MUSIC THEORY

I’ve also started to learn Music Theory (albeit still with little effort) during lockdown. From Youtube (of course). I barely finish any song I write. And I love arranging music, but I’m not very good at it. I figure Music Theory will help me a lot in this area.

[giantbandgeeks]

Queen of Peace: FOUR

chapter three//story page//No Light (banner by eriza)

FOUR: over the glowing hill, i will conquer

The team of high ranking servants were gathered outside to meet Harry’s mother and sister. They were finally moving in; the head of the castle was to introduce them to the team, and show them around. But, Florence and Harry waited in the doorway, ready to receive them after everyone had been introduced.

“Mum,” Harry breathed as Anne walked up to him, and she swept him into her arms. Gemma beamed and curtsied at Florence despite the fact she was in pants, to which the Queen smiled and dipped her head in return.

“I hope your ride over went well.”

“Oh, smooth as could be,” Anne interjected before Gemma could respond to Florence’s statement, and swept her future daughter in law into a hug. “Thank you for being so good to my boy, Your Majesty.”

“It is my pleasure,” Florence hugged her in return after a moment’s hesitation. She wasn’t used to this kind of greeting, or hugging as a form of comfort, unlike Harry. His family was big into affection, and she had only started to get used to that with him. “I am glad to have you both living with us now. My Oma and Opa used to live here, and I know my Mum appreciated having familiar faces around. This job is not easy, and Harry loves you both so very much.”

“It’s true,” Harry slung an arm around Gemma in a casual embrace that Florence knew they could never have in public, unlike regular couples. Sometimes she wondered if Harry wished they were normal, but never had the courage to ask.

“Shall we get you settled?” Florence asked, adjusting her skirt’s waistband around her hips. She was used to wearing dresses, and the fact that her shirt was tucked into her skirt was causing her skirt to gradually slip down.

“A hot shower would be excellent,” Gemma sighed, following Florence’s lead into the castle.

The East Wing of the castle was where all the bedrooms were, and the West Wing held all of the offices. Florence pointed this, and various priceless historical artifacts, out as they made their way towards the Styles family’s new living space.

“For now, this is Harry’s room, and mine is just down the hall, but we will be moving to the next hallway over following our honeymoon. My mother will move into one of these rooms,” Florence nodded at the servants carrying Anne and Gemma’s things and they went into the final two rooms in the hall.

“You have conjoined suites. Two bedrooms with a bathroom between, and walk in closets on either side,” Harry continued Florence’s train of thought, and led them into the first bedroom. “They are identical, so it’s between the pair of you to decide which room you want. We’ll leave you to get settled. See you at dinner?”

“Yes, of course,” Anne hugged both Florence and Harry again before they left to carry out their daily duties.

Dinner was largely uneventful, and Florence was grateful for it. She knew that if King Edward were there he would be firing insults at Harry’s family at every opportunity. Instead, Queen Mother Caroline made friendly conversation with Anne, and Gemma and Harry exchanged jokes at the end of the table.

Ivy and her soul mate, Jacques, were also in attendance. He was the Duke of France, so he had composure over his features if not outright respect for Queen Florence. Her sister was deadly silent throughout the whole affair, making Florence sit rigidly in her seat.

However, all of that was just in the past.

Harry and Florence walked arm and arm through the castle’s gardens, soaking in the last of the late summer sun before it set and they had to part ways. Once the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, Harry wasn’t allowed to see Florence.

He couldn’t see her until she met him at the altar the following afternoon. Even as she was walking up the aisle he had to have his back turned. Harry declared that it was cruel and unusual punishment for a nonexistent crime, but Florence argued that this was one of the traditions from centuries before that she agreed with. It made the moment he saw her even more special.

“You are stuck with me, with this life, forever after tomorrow. Are you sure that is what you want?” Florence broke the serene silence that surrounded them since stepping outside. They didn’t mind being quiet around each other, as their work days were spent in a busy buzz of conversation; they just enjoyed the comfort each other’s presence provided.

“Forever and always,” Harry responded, reaching up to squeeze the hand that Florence had resting on his elbow. “Are you sure that you want to be bound to a lowly servant for the rest of your life, and have that recorded in the history books?”

“I am hoping that history will remember me for something bigger than my relationship, but I am glad my name will be bound to yours. Even if I cannot take Styles as my own last name. Do you regret that at least?”

“Stop looking for reasons I shouldn’t marry you, Florence Elizabeth,” Harry laughed, his dimples poking into his cheeks and eyes squinting at the corners. “I could care less about age old traditions. I am just happy to finally have you as my wife.”

“You know, I dreamed endlessly about finding my soul mate. Some days it was all I could think about. The first day I met you, you were in my dream that night. I failed to get you out of my head some days. When I saw that you were actually my soul mate I was so overwhelmed. It was straight out of a dream. There is not a day that goes by where I do not thank God that you took a job here and I got to meet you without any intervention. I am so incredibly lucky, not just because I found my soul mate, but because it is you,” The pair had stopped walking, and Florence gazed up at Harry with her bright blue eyes. “There is no one else I would rather walk through life with, Harry Edward Styles.”

“I feel the same way,” Harry nodded back at Florence. “I was mostly in shock when I saw my artwork on your arm. You were someone I had admired for as long as I could remember, someone who I knew would be a great leader someday, and someone who anyone would be lucky to have as a soul mate. And I was right.”

“Our time together this evening is almost up,” Florence said, ducking her chin to hide her blush. Harry looked up to see the sky in shades of blue, orange, and golden. The sun was about five minutes away from being completely gone, so the couple had to hustle back into the castle. “We are going to have a week of completely uninterrupted time together.”

“Just the guards, hiding in the shadows, and pretending not to be there.”

“We are going to a private island. Their week is going to be pretty boring in terms of finding people attempting to assassinate us.”

“Very true,” Harry opened the door for his fiancee, giving her a lopsided smile as she passed. In a very un-Florence-like move, she leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. When she pulled away, he murmured, “Goodnight, Flo.”

“Goodnight, H,” She responded, turning to smile at him before ascending the stairs. This time tomorrow, he would be Prince Consort Harry, and they would be married.

“I’ll see you when you get to the altar!” He called after her, not quite wanting the moment to end.

“You will be the one in tears when you see me,” Florence laughed, not looking back at her soul mate. Harry just shook his head, watching to catch a final glimpse of her before they became husband and wife.

—

Florence sat in front of her vanity as Diana brushed out her hair. Rita, Brynn, and Hannah were all flitting about the room in order to get things in order for dressing the Queen. Diana’s twins were two and a half months old, and this was the first time she had left them since giving birth. They were in the capable hands of the palace nannies, but every time Florence caught her eyes in the mirror she gave her friend a reassuring smile.

Diana did the same in return, but Florence was not one bit nervous for her wedding that would be taking place in a few hours. She felt irritation creeping up her spine, as Ivy and her soul mate were visiting from France, but never nerves. Never with Harry. Florence closed her eyes, and leaned into the steady rhythm of Diana’s brush strokes. Momentarily, she forgot all about her sister, and was able to focus completely on Diana’s nimble fingers now beginning to twist her hair into an elegant updo.

“Are you ready for your makeup, Your Majesty?” Rita asked, gesturing towards the spread on the vanity.

“Yes,” Florence smiled up at her reflection in the mirror, watching as Brynn placed a tiara in her finished hair.

“Well your maids are all dressed for the occasion, especially the blonde one,” Ivy swept into the room, and moved to sit on Florence’s bed. Before she made it, she saw something else worth criticizing. “This is your dress? You are going to swim in this, Florence.”

“I am Queen Florence, Ivy,” Florence bit back, not moving anything besides her lips. Not even her eyes darted in Ivy’s direction. “My ladies are dressed professionally in respect for my wedding.”

Rita, Brynn, and Hannah were all dressed in their formal uniform, ready to stand in the back of the church to watch their Queen marry her soul mate. Diana’s pale pink dress matched the one Ivy was wearing, but the princess had not yet realized that.

“That will not save you from looking like a marshmallow,” Ivy tilted her nose into the air in disgust.

“I will not fight will you on my wedding day. Not about my dress.”

“I suppose Harry will not care anyway. He is a servant after all.”

“After today, he will be higher ranking than you, my dearest sister, and it would do you some good to remember that. If you cannot at least pretend to be happy for me, then you can leave,” Rita had finally finished applying the makeup so Florence stood, pulling the belt around her waist tighter so her silk robe wouldn’t fall. “Today is my day of happiness, and I refuse to let you rob me of that. I do not care what the public will think. My maid of honour is Diana, and I will not permit you to bully me or my ladies.”

Ivy sat, glaring up at Florence. She looked every bit the petulant child who had been reprimanded, but Florence didn’t spare her a second glance as she turned to Hannah. “I am ready to get into my dress now. We cannot keep Harry waiting.”

—

The circlet sitting on Harry’s head was the perfect match to the diamond tiara Queen Florence wore. That was the first thing Florence noticed when she turned the corner into the large room of the church. She had seen her soul mate in tailored suits before, but the traditional tuxedo he now wore framed his body perfectly. There was no way Florence could tear her eyes away from Harry as she slowly strode up the aisle to him.

Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest; she could feel it, and hoped that the audience couldn’t hear it over the music filling the room. There was an endless amount of heartbeats ringing in her ears, and she felt the urge to rub the heart tattoo on her bicep. All eyes were on that tattoo– and all the other ones that were intricately placed on her body, most of which were on display– but she didn’t care.

She had walked the aisle alone, had gotten out of the car with only Diana and Ivy beside her. The late King Edward would have walked Florence up the aisle if everything had gone according to their original plan, but Florence was glad to walk alone. The Queen Mother was in tears as Florence passed her and slowly made her way up the few last steps to her soul mate, knowing that this was a better arrangement for her daughter. Florence was Queen, and forever free of having to bow to anyone.

Her steps had come to a halt. She was standing right next to Harry.

“My Flo,” He breathed the second he turned around, already having to blink back the tears in his eyes. “So beautiful.”

“Harry,” Florence beamed, lifting the blusher over her head. They stayed facing the altar as the audience began singing God Save the Queen.

The ceremony was long, and Florence had the sneaking suspicion that the priest was dragging it out unnecessarily. She couldn’t remember the weddings of very many other royals, but she knew that the ones she had been to were nothing like this. All she wanted was a ring on Harry’s finger that guaranteed that he was her’s forever.

After an endless amount of songs and bible verses that Florence vaguely remembered, it was finally time to exchange rings. She passed her bouquet to Diana, and took the ring from the ring bearer.

“I, Queen Florence Elizabeth of Europe, take you, Harry Edward Styles,  soul mate and love of my life, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life,” Her voice was stronger, more sure than it had been at any point during her coronation vows. Without a hint of hesitation or regret, a plain gold wedding band was slid onto Harry’s ring finger.

It was Harry’s turn to take a wedding band from the priest. He clasped it gently between his thumb and forefinger, just as he had over a year ago when he got down on one knee to ask her to be his wife. Again, his green eyes rimmed with tears, but unlike before no tears fell.

“I, Harry Edward Styles, take you, Queen Florence Elizabeth of Europe,  soul mate and love of my life, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life,” Once the diamond band rested gently against the stone of her engagement ring Harry took her wrist in his hand, and rubbed a thumb against the bracelet he hand given her only weeks after she found out he was her soul mate. Florence had only taken it off to shower, and had even worn it on the day she became Queen of Europe. It was a comfort to her through all of the changes she had faced in the last few years.

They continued holding hands throughout the remainder of the ceremony. It wasn’t really a part of tradition, but Florence could care less. She was finally, finally married to her soul mate, and didn’t feel like letting him go. Their grip on each other only got tighter as they led the processional out of the church.

Inside the carriage that took them through the streets of London back to Windsor, Florence smiled and waved like the Queen she was. Harry followed her lead, but with the title of Prince Consort only being a few minutes old, he wasn’t completely comfortable with it.

In that moment it felt like all of the people of Europe were watching them, anticipating the first kiss following their wedding. Like in the old traditions, it would take place on a palace balcony for the crowd outside to see.

Harry didn’t care about the publicity of it all. He relished the hand Florence still had on his elbow, and happily strode through the now familiar halls of the castle with her on his arm.

“You really do look amazing today, Flo. Your dress… I was not expecting it to show all of the tattoos.”

“Well, not all of them,” The following smirk was probably the first time Harry had ever seen his wife wear that expression, and it caused him to bark out a laugh.

“Yes, but I meant the tattoos that the world knows about. Nobody beside me, you, and the tattoo artist knows about your dirty little secret tiger.”

“I suppose you are right,” Florence joined in on Harry’s laughter as they paused in the antechamber to the balcony. She pressed a hand on her skirt above where the tiger was inked into her thigh.

Harry had called her fierce like a tiger once, and presented her with a drawing a matter of hours later. She insisted that she get it tattooed on her body that day, but he made her wait so he could clean it up. But, Florence persisted through Harry’s delays, and went into a tattoo parlor with the intention of getting it tattooed on her shoulder. Instead, Harry proposed getting ink on her thigh and keeping it a secret between them.

Of course Florence had agreed.

They had exactly a minute of silence where she laid her head on his shoulder, letting the day’s activities up until that point sink in, before their families were bursting through and they were swept onto the balcony.

As Florence leaned up to press her lips to Harry’s, cameras flashed and the crowd cheered. But, the memory would be seared in their minds for sentimental reasons that surpassed the way that the public could ever see their minor display of affection.

—

The reception was bigger than the wedding itself. The ceremony was mainly other royals and dignitaries, and the reception was open to invited members of the public and friends. Florence and Harry did not need to move about the room and mingle; the people came up to them to offer congratulations.

It wasn’t anything like Diana and Liam’s wedding had been; there was food and dancing and immense happiness, but it felt like Florence and Harry were hovering on the outside rather than the center of it.

Of course they were the source of happiness, but Harry whispered to Florence that they hadn’t been able to sit since arriving. The constant stream of people had prevented them from venturing very far into the room.

“My feet are starting to hurt,” Florence whispered back in between admirers, keeping a smile on her face. She wore heels all day every day, but standing in new heels for this amount of time was starting to wear on her. “Can we just go sit?”

“Queen Cecilia!” Harry beamed and paused his conversation with Florence to acknowledge the next person coming to give their congratulations. The Queen of South America had brought all of her children to Europe for the occasion, but all of them left their spouses behind. King William of North America, Queen Gabrielle of Australia, and King Jaheem of Africa had already come to chat with Queen Florence and Harry, their immediate families in tow.

“Hello, Harry,” She squeezed him, and then moved on to hug Florence. All five of her children did the same, offering up their congratulations and well wishes. Before the next person told even step forward, Florence spoke up.

“Prince Consort Harry and I will receive the remaining guests from our table,” She threaded her fingers through Harry’s and led the line across the room. Finally seated, her feet hidden beneath the tablecloth as well as her skirt, Florence slid her feet out of her shoes and pressed her toes onto the cool tile. “Thank you.”

Between guests now, Harry and Florence took bites of food and exchanged fond smiles instead of whispered complaints. They gave genuine smiles to each guest rather than the forced ones they had plastered on only moments before.

That was, until the mayor of London came up to the table, and went beyond the obligatory congratulatory statement. He turned his sights on Harry, immediately asking, “Do you bow to your queen?”

“For no one but,” Harry responded, brow crinkling in confusion, but not hesitating in his answer.

“Even though she is your wife?”

“Especially because she is my wife. I treat her with the respect and care that she so greatly deserves on the human level, regardless of her gender.”

“You know that King Edward X, may he rest in peace, is quoted saying that a woman should always bow before her husband. Is that not the case in your relationship?”

“The Queen of Europe bows to no one. She does not answer to me like a dog. She is my queen and I am her subject, but we are equals within our relationship. I will bow to her as such. I will bow to her even in our relationship when asked. She will do the same for me.”

“That is quite enough, Franklin,” Florence glared at the mayor as if daring him to say another word.

“Congratulations again, Your Majesty,” He bowed and left. Florence grabbed Harry’s hand and squeezed.

“I love you,” She whispered, eyes widening as the final guest approached.

“Congratulations, Your Majesties,” King Norichika said. Florence stood, pulling Harry up with her.

“Thank you, Sir,” Florence dipped her head at his low bow, and she felt Harry bow beside her.

“Thank you for our renewed peace. May we live harmoniously for the endless years to come,” Norichika turned towards the crowd and left the newlyweds alone. Florence returned to her seated position, and spied the group of people dancing to the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra out of the corner of her eye.

“I wish to dance,” She smiled up at Harry, who was still watching King Norichika’s retreating back. When he didn’t respond, Florence slipped her shoes back on and began pulling him towards the dancefloor. The party was almost over, and she wanted to squeeze a bit more fun out of the evening.

They held each other close and swayed to the music until Liam came over and tapped Harry on the shoulder. No one else had existed outside of themselves for nearly an hour, and the simple gesture was a shock back into reality. It was the signal that it was time for Harry and Florence to depart for their honeymoon.

Florence hurried up the stairs to change into a tight red and gold going away dress. The sun had long set over Windsor, but it would be warm on the plane and warm in the tropics.

Rita was the one to zip her up, Hannah and Brynn both working to pull bobby pins out of Florence’s hair so that she wouldn’t get a headache on the plane. Plus, she had been enjoying wearing her hair down, curly, and free more and more lately. Diana appeared in the doorway with Liam, each of them holding a twin.

Knowing it was finally time to leave, Florence accepted hugs from each of her lady’s maids, and made her way towards her best friend. She gently placed a kiss on each baby’s forehead, and gave half hugs to both Liam and Diana. “I will see you all in a week. Do not let them change a bit while I am away.”

“I can’t make any promises. Have an amazing time.”

“Thank you,” Florence smiled, and began walking back down to the waiting car. There was a crowd of people waiting at the foot of the stairs, but the only person she saw was Harry. He had shed his tuxedo jacket, tie, and crown. His dress shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and his eyes were twinkling with love as Florence paused in front of him.

She took his arm, and the crowd showered them with rice as they made their way out to the waiting car. Once tucked inside, safely on their way to the airport, Florence murmured, “I think it is time for you to design me a new tattoo.”

[tinamaetales]

My (totally late) year end blog post

Dear TinaMae,

Does it still hurt knowing how the rest of the world is moving forward with their lives and getting better while you’re still stuck in the same old shit you’ve been into ever since? How are you coping? Do you still spend your mornings waking up with a heavy heart? Do you still spend your nights crying till you pass out? Are you still holding on or you’ve already become accustomed to the pain that you felt numb already? Life has always been unfair to you. I wonder how you deal with the world’s craziness in 2017 and how you’re going to survive yet another year. 2017 has ended and 2018 is here but you’re still the same miserable Kristine from before. But I guess you’ve underestimated yourself seeing how it all hurts but you’re still standing…maybe you’re stronger than you think and maybe you can still endure.

Let me give you a recap first of what 2017 is for you. You see, you started it full of hopes. Your 2016 sucks big time but towards the end you felt some kind of hope…that hope that you hold on to and brought along with you as you entered 2017. Remember how you choose your 2017 planner? You chose it because the cover screams positivity; your 2016 planner says that we can all be heroes in our own ways and you’ve realized that it is okay that you can’t save everyone or do something as big as the heroes of your country…you’ve realized that you can be a hero even if it means you only saved yourself so you decided that in 2017, you will be a bigger person because it will be your year. Funny how things actually went the opposite. You claimed that 2017 will be your year, but was it really? You started the year with a poor health but you persevere because you’re just starting with your first job. That first job of yours excites you because you’re finally getting out of your comfort zone but then you get an early plot twist. Few days in to 2017 and you saw yourself admitted in the hospital. You survived it, obviously but you ended up filing your resignation because you can’t handle the night shift schedule. And maybe that resignation was good because you got time to rest and reevaluate your life. You’ve realized that you have other passions that you want to pursue. You discovered new hobbies – especially the one that involves watching Korean dramas for that hobby of yours changed your life. At first, you got curious because a lot of people are hyping it but when you started watching, you’ve realized that the stories are not just about romance but have deeper messages. You fell in love again with medicine because of Doctor Stranger and Doctors (Doctor’s Crush) and you even planned to maybe one day go back to that field, Love in the Moonlight and Hwarang made you realized that the government system is unfair especially to the less fortunate and if you will not do your part then history will just keep on repeating itself, Descendants of the Sun showed you the value of public service, Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo showed you that you can achieve your dreams as long as you are willing to work hard for it, W- Two Worlds reminded you that you are the writer of your own story so it is your choice whether you want (and deserve!) a happy ending or not, Legend of the Blue Sea showed you that the world is full of second chances, Cheese in the Trap showed you that people will abuse your kindness but only if you allowed them to and lastly, Goblin made you become appreciative of life – that despite the tears and pain you will endure. Those dramas gave you life lessons that helped a lot in the formation of your character. And just like in the drama, you got an interesting plot twist halfway through the year when you get a call from an institution you’ve applied before and they told you that they are finally hiring you. It was an unexpected blessing. You didn’t really have many adjustments to do since it was also the same place you’ve had your internship. However, fate really likes to play with you because 3 days after your employment you find yourself again admitted in the hospital (really, what’s with you and getting sick just when you’re just starting a job?). When you get back, you’ve realized that the real world is a much scarier place. Being in the frontline makes you realize how horrible people are – they can become very demanding and illogical but everything will be blamed at you and your workmates and your institution. But even though the environment of your present work is stressful, you were able to meet new people – some became your friends while others became your mentors and they made your work life bearable. If your life is really like a K Drama then pretty sure its theme is heavy drama because all you ever did is cry and get hurt. And you get rained on a lot too – both in literal and figurative sense. Who could’ve taught that 2017 was also the year that you will lose Xander? Sucks losing someone who loves you unconditionally, right? But it did teach you how to be resilient. 2017 is also the year that you’ve seen how horrible people you’ve known your whole life can become. 2017 made you realized that people who have bad intentions are the ones who are really persistent – they don’t stop till they make it and that’s really scary. I guess every time you remember the year 2017, your heart will break because of all the pain you’ve been through.  

Overall, 2017 is a year that crushed you to your last pieces. You’ve cried more this year, you’ve lost a lot this year, you’ve become pretty much dead inside but you know what’s remarkable? It is that you choose to stay. You’ve had a lot of giving up moments even suicide attempts and yet you’re still here fighting. You actually have no idea how you can do it and why you’re still holding on but you just do it. Maybe your story still has a lot of chapters to go and maybe things will have a chance to get better someday. Or maybe this life of yours was never a blessing…it’s a curse and you being here is just part of the punishment. You’ve entered 2017 bruised but hopeful and now you left it still bruised….but do you still have hope in your heart? Until when do you think you can hold on?

2018 is another year for you to endure. Good luck.

I don’t want to give you any words of encouragement because they won’t change a thing.

But my dear self, all I can offer you is hope. A hope that someday you can smile again. A hope that someday you can live and not just survive. A hope that someday your life will become a blessing instead of a curse.

My dear self, please hold on…keep going…

…but if you really can’t handle life, I hope you will find the courage to free yourself. I think you deserve to rest and be at peace too.

X,

Kristine