#I have a few more images but alas tumblr won’t let me put more than 10

[toki-toro]

Reed Jones as Skimbleshanks in the og Broadway cast from 1982-1984

[lilytriestoexist]

R0wan? More like Row(neck)beard

This is all @bleeding-star-heart ��s fault (tumblr refuses to let me tag this one blog for some reason, sigh), they challenged me to do this and I can’t turn down a challenge. Alas, I have no art skills, but I am marginally better at writing, so here is my contribution to the great Uglification of YA Book Boyfriends/Bad Boys movement.

Warning, it gets a bit NSFW at one point because R0wan is ~horny~. It’s not explicit or anything, and since we’ve all read Sarah Janet’s atrocious sex scenes, I assume it won’t be a big deal, but in case it is, here’s a warning.

Rowan had a problem. 

He bit his lip and glanced behind him, through the ajar door of their bedroom, where Aelin’s slim form was outlined by the rise and fall of glossy silk, the sheets brought up to her chin as she tipped her head back against the pillow, hair a golden halo around her. In sleep, the sharpness in her face seemed to ease, accentuating her youth. Gods, she was so young. And already she was set to change the world. It was the greatest honour in the world to be by her side as she did so.

Only...would he be by her side? Would he be there, watching as the gilded crown was set onto her hair, watching as she turned to face the adoring masses, watching as she fulfilled her destiny and ruled as queen? He eyed the mirror, running hasty hands through his white hair, tracing the smooth, hairless jut of his jaw. Eternity was a long time, far longer than any one person could truly comprehend. And people had a tendency to grow, to change. He couldn’t guarantee that he and Aelin would change together. He couldn’t rule out the possibility of one day waking up and realising he no longer recognised the female laying beside him. 

Ideas crowded his mind, ways to keep Aelin alert, to keep her wanting him and to keep him wanting her. He considered shifting his body parts, perhaps acquiring Fenrys’s hair or Dorian’s eyes or Lorcan’s physique, but dismissed that thought almost immediately, a shudder running up his spine. Tapping his foot against the cool bathroom floor, he stared into the eyes of his mirrored self. His hand drifted up to trace the words and symbols inked across one half of his face, a habit he had embraced as the years had flown by. It was calming, to let the quick instinct in his fingers take over, letting his brain rest. They slowly traveled downwards, framing the outline of his throat, the protruding lump, the cords of his neck.

And suddenly, he had a thought. 

He examined the smooth, tan expanse of his neck, pressing his palms against the warm curve, pinching and pulling his skin. He’d cut his hair short before, shedding long white locks in favour of a shorter, more low maintenance haircut, but he had no idea of knowing if that would hold Aelin’s favour for any longer. What if she didn’t even like short hair? Rowan worried at his full bottom lip and, before he could overthink and hesitate any longer, ran a single index finger up his neck, from the tip of his sharp collarbones to the centre of his chin, and willed his magic to follow his unspoken command.

It was instantaneous, the growth of hair, following the path his finger had laid out for it. White strands began blooming from beneath his skin, shooting upwards to about an inch long before halting. He swept his finger from side to side, expanding the single line of hair, until it was a thick, healthy bush of white, encompassing the entirety of his neck. When he pressed his hand into the beard, it was a strange, fluffy sensation, but it filled him with inexplicable warmth. The corners of his lips stretched upwards as he surveyed the finished look, admiring the beard that now swallowed his neck and was beginning to creep up over his jaw. 

Aelin can’t possibly say no to this, he thought, striking a few poses and positively grinning with pride at his new feature. His whole body was tingling with anticipation as he walked back to their bedroom, a bounce in his step as he bent over and gently shook Aelin awake. With any luck, they’d be entwined beneath the sheets within minutes, and he swallowed as images filled his head of the wonders his neckbeard could do when his mouth devoured her, what kind of pleasure it could bring his mate when he buried himself inside her.

“Aelin,” he whispered as her lips began to part. “Aelin, wake up.” His fingers trembled with excitement as he used his free hand to stroke the neat bush of his beard.

“Rowan?” she asked, arms coming up to stretch out the fatigue as a yawn escaped her lips. Her eyes opened, and he smiled as she took in the change.

The smile dropped from his lips when she let out an ear-splitting scream.

“Aelin!” he yelped as she practically flung herself out of bed and to the other side of the room. “What are you doing? What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into me?!” she screeched, pointing a single shaking finger at his exquisite, beautiful neckbeard. “Rowan, what in the name of the Gods has gotten into you?” 

“This is my neckbeard!” he snapped, affronted. “Are you implying something, oh great Queen of Terrasen?”

“I’m not implying something, I’m stating it outright,” she shot back. “That neckbeard is the most gruesome and atrocious thing I’ve ever had the misfortune of seeing. I wish Maeve were here to gouge out my eyes so that I would at least not have to continue seeing that monstrosity on your neck. I would not mind if Erawan came and obliterated you into smithereens, because at least your Gods-awful neckbeard would be removed from this forsaken world.”

Rowan flinched with every harsh insult Aelin hurled at him. “It’s not that bad,” he protested, hugging his arms around his chest and dipping his chin, nestling it in the comforting cushion of his neckbeard. “You don’t have to be so mean about it, anyway. A simple ‘I don’t like it’ would have sufficed.”

“I don’t like it doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings about that...thing,” Aelin deadpanned. Her hand came up, fingers curling, and a flame bloomed from the pale skin of her palm. “Rowan, this is for your own good.”

And then she threw it. 

On instinct, his hands flew up and the air in the room jumped to his aid, swirling into currents of manipulated wind in front of him and extinguishing the fire his mate had just thrown at him. The brief flash of overpowering heat in his face told him just how close it had been, and he stroked his neckbeard, reassuring himself of its survival.

“I...you just threw fire at me.” Fear, anger, hurt, and a myriad of other emotions warred in his voice. 

“It’s like I said,” Aelin replied, shoulders rising in a shrug. “It’s for your own good.”

He shook his head and took her in, the long hair tumbling down her back and front in loose golden waves, the smug upwards tilt of her chin, the eyes he had loved so much staring back at him without a hint of remorse. She had tried to burn his neckbeard, his most valued asset and prized possession, had tried to incinerate it, and did not care in the slightest.

Rowan had always feared a gradual deterioration of their relationship. Hadn’t he said not so long ago that one day he might wake up and not recognise the female next to him? It just hadn’t occurred to him that the day he had been dreading might come quicker than he’d expected. He looked at Aelin, his mate, his wife, and saw nothing he could love.

“No,” he said, and Aelin’s eyes narrowed.

“No, what?” There was a sharp, low note of warning in her voice.

“It’s not for my own good,” Rowan said, burying his fingers in his neckbeard. “You’re not for my own good, Aelin.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re just tired, Rowan,” she said, easy smile gracing her lips. “Come back to bed. We’ll sort it all out later in the day. And we can do other things as well, after that.” Aelin smoothed down the skirt of her short nightgown and winked.

Usually, that would’ve sent him diving straight into bed. But now, he looked at her slim waist, long legs, and suggestive smirk, and felt only the faintest stirrings of what used to be a wildfire.

“You’re not good for me, Aelin,” he repeated.

Her eyes darkened. “Come back to bed, Rowan,” she said, kindness draining from her voice and replaced with pure steel. He shook his head, and she sighed. “Remember, I love you. I’m doing this for you.” Her hands began to rise, flames beginning to pour from her palms.

“I’m doing this for me, too.” A single, massive gust of wind shattered the yellow-stained glass of their window and he dove for the opening, avoiding the fireball blazing in his direction and shifting into his hawk form. In a piece of glass, he could see thick white fluff underneath his beak, and found solace in the fact that his beloved neckbeard was with him wherever he chose to go. 

“Rowan Whitethorn, get back here this instant!” Aelin shouted, and he could feel the approaching warmth behind him. Rowan served to the side, wings outstretched. He could feel the coolness of the air caressing his feathers.

Aelin continued yelling, but her voice grew fainter and fainter as he soared into the distance. He had no idea where he was going, where he could even go, but all he cared about was putting distance between himself and the woman who he’d risked his life for, given his heart to, wanted to swear his existence to. What a fool he had been, to love such a person.

He flew, and then he ran, and he did not look back. And when he faltered, when he stared at his shaking hands and dared to consider returning, he only needed to find a mirror and stare at the thriving forest of hair beneath his chin. His faithful neckbeard, who gave him strength, who showed him nothing but love and loyalty. 

And against all odds, Rowan Whitethorn and his neckbeard lived happily ever after.

[airlock]

alright folks, I’m back for more of those results from the anniversary poll; once again, I’ll be counting them as properly as I can because IS sure as hell can’t, and in the process, I will also judge whether the fans have spoken good choices

this time, we’ll be counting and criticizing the top 15 dancing duos! (disclaimer: I don’t dance. I still will attempt to comment on everyone else’s dancing)

#1: BERKUT & RINEA (9313 votes)

tumblr won’t let me simply put two images next to each other in a text post, and I can’t be fucked to put them together in such a way that doesn’t make them un-transparent, so I’ll be putting them together with a simple color background; it’s a spot uglier and I will probably fail to spot some wonky pixels, but c’est la vie

anyways, I don’t like it, but like Byleth before, this is a natural afk pick; they’re some of a very small subset of characters in the series that we actually see dancing with each other, in a proper cutscene. a cutscene that, in fact, basically exists to tell us that they look good dancing, so one’s not wrong to vote for them here, I suppose. there are, in fact, a lot of people in this world who are fantastic performers and also would throw their spouses in a fire if they figured it’d make them feel good about themselves again

#2: OLIVIA & INIGO (2474 votes, including Laslow)

this is actually sweet, though, mother-son dancing duo and all. one thing I do have to mention, though, is that you’d have to hope that our hypothetical dance-off was announced plenty of time in advance, there’s so much that could bring a performance between them crashing and burning if they don’t hash it all out for themselves first

#3: EDELGARD & DIMTIRI (1871 votes across all appearances, possibly with uncounted change)

they sure do look fantastic, dancing with other people with their backs completely to each other,

might as well stuff this strangely popular nothing-of-a-choice with a little additional note: these paired votes are going to be especially harrowing on the split vote front, because any combination of two characters who both have split votes means they can be combined with each other in 4 different ways. like, most people probably won’t combine, say, someone’s PoR self with someone else’s RD self, but properly unsplitting votes in this is going to be a lot more of a challenge. and that’s to say nothing of byleth; there is a whopping 16 different ways to combine Byleth and any one Three Houses character

ETA: I. completely forgot about the thing where edelgard tried to teach dimitri to dance when they were young. okay, that kind of tracks. but also like, whomst the fuck got the idea that whatever they were doing there was building up to elegance

#4: ELIWOOD & NINIAN (1495 votes)

I’m getting the lingering feeling that this fandom is a lot better at pointing out good dancers than good teachers-

this one’s another amazing pick; sure, not one you have to think a lot about, since they’re oft-shipped and one of them is an actual dancer -- but the beauty of it is that even the ostensible weak link still has much offer, between his flawless elegance and a love of dancing that we at the very least knows is in his lineage

let’s just hope eliwood would still prefer to keep the “special dances” private though-

#5: BYLETH & CLAUDE (1163 votes across all appearances, possibly with uncounted change)

speaking of the ballroom cutscene again, man, Claude sure has left an impression on us all back there-

still, we don’t actually see the dance, and it’s probably better that we don’t -- I wouldn’t bet that Byleth is any more expressive with their moves than they are with their face. there’s really not very much of a reason to vote for this other than wanting to insert yourself into a situation where one dances with Claude. and I mean, mood, but let’s focus, please-

#6: OLIVIA & AZURA (996 votes)

this is just a copout, though. this is like if I asked you about the best food in your town and you just told me that technically Gordon Ramsey was born there. ooo, hot take alert, two unrelated professional performers can probably put on a decent performance together!

at least their theme colors together make the trans flag, so I’ll give all 996 of you that much-

#7: ALM & CELICA (990 votes)

was there like an actual thing where they dance, or were people picking this just because they’re good-looking and married? because like, in the absence of evidence, I cannot and will not assume that Alm is a remotely passable dancer.

in fact, here’s the drill: for this section, I can’t actually blame people if they’re just hornyvoting -- being hot is kind of a point-plus for this -- but I can and will blame them if they’re voting for their ships with no regard as to whether they’d look good dancing. so, accusations of hornyvoting shall make way -- to accusations of shipvoting! I believe that’s also going to happen on the other paired category, even if that one is a lot less about the chemistry (presumably)

#8: NILS & NINIAN (884 votes)

this kind of a copout again, but it’s also a family dance again, BUT most importantly one of these two is not actually a dancer. like, sure, he plays the flute, but this isn’t a flute-and-dance duo poll, it’s a dance poll! although I mean, it does mean he must have a good notion of rhythm, and from the sprites we can definitely tell he’s got a spring in his step when he plays, and Ninian can teach him too, so... maybe? oh well, it’d be cute to see them try

#9: SIGURD & DEIRDRE (790 votes)

eh, I’m gonna call shipvoting on this one too. like, sure, they’re both hot and they’re in love with each other, but even if you leave aside the likelihood that Deirdre was raised too shelthered to have danced like ever, any dancing they’d know of would be totally incompatible, considering their entirely distinct backgrounds.

I suppose I will lend credence to the idea that Sigurd’s at least experienced as far as dancers go; it’s not like he was studying back at that academy,

#10: BYLETH & EDELGARD (735 votes across all appearances, possibly with uncounted change)

since most of the votes on this are for post-timeskip edelgard, this appears to be unrelated to the ballroom scene, for once

that said, I can’t think of anything to this other than regular shipvoting -- and not even shipvoting of much quality, because besides the above-mentioned on whether byleth can dance, I have a nagging feeling that the kind of dancing Edelgard would genuinely be interested in would be strictly for fun, without any sort of elegance or other things that an outside participant would enjoy watching

#11: TSUBASA & CAEDA & KIRIA & THARJA (687 votes)

don’t let the fact that I found a transparent tsubasa but not a transparent kiria distract you from the absolute trainwreck that resulted from the naming scheme used in FEH for TMS#FE characters crashing into the notation I’m using for the duos here- ahem, well, please be distracted from both of those things, anyway

assuming this is just between the two mirage users and we’re not talking about the most awkward foursome in history, well... I once again have not played TMS#FE, so uh, they sure are both pop idols and I think people ship them, I guess?

#12: MARTH & CAEDA (596 votes across all appearances)

I mean... there’s a lot that can be said about their individual qualities and their dynamics, but I have absolutely no idea how any of it would translate into a ballroom. and if we’re any inclined to believe that skill with words and skill with bodily expression tend to be opposite skillsets, then theyyyy are both screwed.

#13: PENT & LOUISE (508 votes)

I get it, I do. they both look sparkly beautiful and haute and classy and like everything around them is prettier for them being there. but let me categorically tell you that neither of these two dance.

neither of these two dance because one, Pent is an absolute potato, and two, Pent specifically chose Louise because she didn’t try to impress him with a dance.

#14: SAUL & DOROTHY (495 votes)

regardless of any merits they may or may not have, this is 100% just to get them into heroes, isn’t it. alright, I can respect that

but as for whether they can dance... sure, maybe? Dorothy is full of hidden talents, and Saul has probably tried to dance enough times to guide her along at least

#15: CORRIN & AZURA (476 votes across all genders)

alas, there’s no way this can work out, because we all know corrin has two left feet.

thank you, thank you! I’ll be here every night!

HONORABLE MENTIONS (highest vote in their continuity, without reaching top 15)

Ike & Soren (344 votes across all appearances): disappointingly, of the stark few Tellius pairs that got on this list, the best-ranked of them is 100% blatant shipvoting. I mean, sure, Ike’s got moves, but Soren?? at least vote Ike & Ranulf you cowards

Eirika & Ephraim (323 votes): first, we’d have to extensively train Ephraim on how to not make this experience entirely embarassing for Eirika, but that can be said of most anything they could do together in public-

Triandra & Plumeria (280 votes): yep, still unfunny. and now all of you 280 assholes are stretching it

Ferdinand & Lorenz (95 votes, possibly with uncounted change): I’m just mentioning them because I’m one of these 95 people. and so should more of you have been! don’t you know elegance when it’s right in front of you? huh? huhhh????

and that’s it, you’ve endured me attempting to talk about dancing for several minutes when I have no knowledge or experience on the subject! I eagerly await your input in my replies and reblogs, especially from those of you who do dance.

[skepticalcatfrog]

Shattered Crown Chapter 1

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter Masterpost

Summary: After disaster strikes in Prince Roman's kingdom, he must go on a quest in order to take back the crown that is rightfully his. He will travel with three companions on an epic adventure, gaining many friends and enemies along the way. Those three companions are an intelligent inventor with a mysterious past, a cheerful wizard with a dark secret, and... the assassin who was sent to kill him two years prior.

Pairings: (Eventual) Prinxiety and Logicality

Word count: 3,103

Author's Notes: I'm really excited to be posting this on Tumblr! This is my first real actual serious fanfiction that I'm actually putting somewhere! It's a Sanders Sides fantasy AU, and I'm actually really proud of it. So, here we go I guess.

Roman waited on top of the wall that surrounded the castle, carefully watching the horizon. He turned to a soldier who was standing nearby.

“I'm tired of waiting. Are they even coming?” He asked impatiently.

“I don't know, your highness. We've been up here for hours now, the army is getting restless, and the sun is setting. If they were to attack, you'd think that they'd want to do it while there was still light.” The soldier responded.

“True. I say we call off the defense.” Roman responded. The soldier looked at him like he had three heads.

“Call off the defense? But what if their plans aren't as we'd suspected?” The soldier pointed out.

“Fine, at least just let them go back to their usual duties while remaining prepared for an attack.” Roman compromised.

“Alright then, I'll let the others know.” The soldier nodded respectfully and set off. Roman climbed down the ladder and trudged back into the castle, regretful that he'd gotten everyone ready for nothing. He dragged his feet along the ground, slowly walking up the stairs to his room.

Once he was safely inside, he locked the door behind him, and slid out of his armor. He didn't bother to put it away properly as he usually did, but instead just put it all in a pile in the corner of him room. He flopped onto his bed and sighed into his pillow. At this point, he was glad he locked the door. He couldn't let anyone see him like this. He was supposed to be strong, and regal, and composed, but being royalty was a very draining task, and he couldn't manage to uphold that image all the time. And with the added stress of leading the soldiers, keeping everything together was nearly impossible.

The attack that day had been seen from a mile away, which was probably why the opposing kingdom had called it off. Roman couldn't stand the fact that every time he seemed to be winning, something new popped up that he needed to fix. It drove him crazy.

He rolled over and sat up, glancing at the window. It was practically already dark out, so he might as well be sleeping. He didn't even bother changing his clothes, he was already about a hundred times more comfortable than he had been in his armor. So he just curled up where he was and slowly drifted off.

Roman jolted awake a couple hours later, sitting up abruptly. It was pitch dark outside. He didn't know what had woken him up… but he felt like he wasn't alone in his room. He looked around the room frantically, but couldn't see anything.

“I must just be going crazy…” Roman muttered to himself. And that's when it happened. His eyes widened as a dagger hit the wall right in front of his face.

“Damn, I missed...” He heard a whisper from somewhere in the room. A figure suddenly became visible from near the window, which he just then realized had been opened. “I guess we'll just have to do this the hard way then.”

The figure emerged from the shadows, leaning on one of the bedposts of Roman's bed. They looked like an assassin, which was probably true because they'd just tried to kill him. They were fairly thin, and looked to be a bit shorter than he was. They wore purple boots, black pants, and a purple shirt, with fingerless gloves to complete the outfit. A cloak covered their hair, and a mask covered their face, leaving only their eyes visible. And their eyes… well they confused Roman. He couldn't tell if they were brown, or just purple, especially with how dark it was.

The assassin approached Roman, similar to how a cat would approached a wounded rodent. As quickly as a flash of lightning, they threw another dagger. Roman dodged it once again, and he heard an annoyed sigh from the assassin.

“Why won't you just let me hit you!” They exclaimed.

“Oh, I don't know, maybe because I don't want to die!” Roman responded. He darted out of his bed, sprinting to his armor in the corner of his room. He didn't have time to put it on, but he could at least grab his sword. He held it with the same confidence he would on the battlefield, even though he was a thousand times less prepared and a thousand times more scared.

“This would all be so much easier if you just left and never came back.” Roman told the assassin, moving slowly towards them.

“Well you know I'm not going to do that.” They responded.

“I guess we'll just have to do this the hard way then.” Roman mocked the assassin's voice. They seemed surprised, and he used this momentary shock to swiftly grab the assassin's wrists and put the tip of his sword over their heart. Their eyes grew wide, and Roman saw a fear in them that he often saw in himself. “I'm only going to say this one more time. You are going to leave the castle. You aren't going to come back. Want to know why? Because I have a kingdom to protect. And I'm not going to let you stop me from doing so. Do you understand.” He didn't phrase the last sentence as a question, but as more of a command. The assassin nodded wordlessly, breaking out of the prince's grip and darting out the window, disappearing into the darkness of the night. They didn't even bother getting their weapons from the wall.

The shock of the moment washed over him, and he was flooded with tons of different emotions. That was terrifying. He had never been so afraid in his life, not even in battle, and he didn't know why. He had handled the situation well.

He threw his sword back onto the pile of armor, not even bothering to put it back in the sheath. He pulled the daggers out of the wall by his bed, and put them in the drawer of his nightstand. He took extra precautions by closing and locking all the windows, and closing the curtains. He could barely see anything anymore because of how dark it was, but he found his way back to his bed. Needless to say, he didn't sleep well the rest of the night.

~2 years later~

Roman waited on top of the wall that surrounded the castle, carefully watching the horizon for an attack that might never come. He had been standing there all day, as he had been every day for the past couple years. He had turned 19 a few days ago, but he didn't care. There were more important things for him to worry about. For every day that went by, less and less people would wait with him. They all thought he was crazy. There hadn't been an attack for years, but for some reason he kept going back. He heard people muttering, talking about how weird it was that he was so paranoid. They all knew why. He had become like this after that night.

He wasn't expecting anything that day. Just the usual, which was nothing. So of course he was extremely surprised when he saw the army that was marching toward the castle. Immediately after he saw them, he practically jumped off the wall and darted into the castle. Once he was inside, he shouted at the top of his lungs, alerting everyone in the castle.

“There's an attack! Enemy soldiers marching toward the castle! Tell the soldiers! Get them out there as fast as possible!” He told everyone frantically, getting many different reactions. Some people laughed, some people were whispering to their friends, but others immediately ran off to spread the word.

A few minutes later, Roman had gotten his sword and put on his armor. He also brought the daggers with him, because they were a reminder that he'd made it out of a dangerous situation before, and he could do it again. He walked through the crowd of soldiers, watching the approaching army. One moment, they were all standing there waiting for something to happen, and the next a battle was in full swing. People yelling, the sound of metal hitting metal. There was so much happening at once, Roman barely knew what to do. He was extremely out of practice, since there hadn't been a real battle in years. And of course since he was royalty, he was a huge target. The soldiers from his kingdom were doing an amazing job, and he thought they might be winning, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around quickly, stopping his sword just short of a gap in the armor of his second in command.

“I need you to come with me.” She said, taking him by the hand and pulling him toward the castle.

“What are you doing? I'm supposed to be helping the soldiers!” He replied, walking next to her.

“This is more important. A couple of enemy soldiers got past the guards and into the castle. We think that they're trying to the King.” She explained bluntly.

“Wait, really?” He asked, sheathing his sword. “Well then we have to get up there!”

He began running back towards the castle, leaving his second in command behind him. He dodged soldiers and weapons until he finally got to the border. The gate was already opened.

He slipped through the gate and dashed through the empty hallways until he got to the throne room. A stranger was sitting on the king's throne. He laughed when he saw Roman run in.

“I was wondering when you'd get here! Battle certainly is fun, isn't it? Too bad you managed to escape my assassin, otherwise we wouldn't have to be doing this. But alas, here we are.” The stranger smiled wickedly, revealing the snake-like fangs in his mouth. His eyes gave Roman chills, with one being a cold silver and the other a bright yellow with a slit pupil. His hair was a sort of sandy blond color. He wore all black except for a golden cloak and… Roman's father's crown.

“Where is my father.” Roman asked, his voice shaky with fear.

“Oh you poor, naive, stupid little prince. I'm afraid you're too late! The old king is gone. And you should be, too. Guards.” The man snapped his fingers and two armored people stepped out from somewhere in the back of the room. Roman couldn't see their faces, because they had helmets on, but they looked powerful. And they were. They lifted him up easily, and dragged him over to the window. That scared him, because they were easily on the second or third floor. If they were to throw him out of the window, he would definitely be severely injured, or maybe even dead.

The two guards pushed the window open. Roman struggled as he tried to break out of their grasp, but to no avail.

“Leave here. And never come back. Or there will be consequences.” The man told him. Roman closed his eyes as he was thrown out the window. As he felt himself falling through the air, he couldn't help but think about his father. He was really gone, wasn't he. His father was all he had left. He never really knew his mother. She had died when he was young. He didn't have any siblings. And now, he had nothing. No friends, no family. Not anymore.

He impacted the ground hard. His armor was dented and covered in dirt. He was bruised from the fall, had some cuts on him from fighting, and pain shot through his entire body when he tried to stand. Still, he moved forward, his vision flickering in and out of focus with every step. He must've been more seriously injured than he thought, and that was saying something. He picked up his pace, even though he definitely shouldn't, and soon was at a full sprint. He climbed up the ladder and suddenly felt like he was falling again, even though that wasn't true. He stood on top of the wall for a moment before jumping down, immediately running towards the woods. He could hear the battle continuing to rage on, but it seemed very distant. Still, he didn't look back. He ran and ran, using up his energy until his vision switched between out of focus and completely dark.

He felt like he'd been running for a couple minutes, but it had been a bit more than that. Quite a bit, actually. It had been almost 20 minutes. He was in the middle of the forest. He knew what kinds of things were in the forest. Monsters, witches and wizards… assassins. In other words, many things that would have a field day with an injured prince.

Roman stopped to catch his breath. He was tired, and he was in extreme pain. He had to rest somewhere. The sun was going down.

“There can't... possibly… be any houses around here.” He muttered between breaths. That's when he saw it. “Wait…”

A small stone cottage in the middle of the woods. He must've been going crazy, or hallucinating or something, because who would live there? He slowed down until he was walking, and slowly approached the house. There weren't any windows, so he couldn't tell if anyone was inside. He put his hand on the doorknob to confirm that he wasn't hallucinating, and it was in fact really there. He slowly turned the doorknob, opening the door and looking inside.

It looked very comfortable. There was a desk in the corner of the room that was covered in books and many other miscellaneous items, such as metal springs and gears or strange looking plants. There was a bookshelf on the opposite side of the room, filled with books to the point where there were books on the floor and the top of the bookshelf. There was a chair in the corner next to the bookshelf, and one by the desk. There was a door on the wall opposite of the front door, possibly leading to a bedroom or closet.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” A voice asked, somewhat panicked. There was another boy standing in the other door. He was about as tall as Roman, with black hair and dark brown eyes.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone else was here, and I was just thrown out a window…” He attempted to explain. “It’s too dangerous for me to go back to my home, and I'm already in enough physical and emotional pain.”

“Alright then… My name is Logan.” Logan offered his hand. Roman just stared at it in shock.

“You have… a mechanical arm.” He stated.

“Yes, I do. Now, you never answered my question. Who are you?” Logan responded.

“Ah, yes. I'm Roman.” He shook Logan's hand.

“Wonderful. And I'm assuming you want a place to rest?” Logan asked bluntly.

“Yes, but I'm not in the mood to trust people right now.” Roman answered.

“Well then you can sleep outside. I'm expecting company tomorrow anyway.” Logan suggested.

“Do you seriously expect me to sleep outside? I'm a prince, and it's the middle of winter.” Roman pointed out.

“Well it's not my fault you entered my house unexpectedly and are now asking to sleep here.” Logan retorted. “I only have one bed here anyway, because I have one friend and he likes to sleep on either the floor or the chair. So those are your options.”

“Fine.” Roman crossed his arms angrily.

“Great, you can be agreeable.” Logan went over to his desk, organising the books into a neat stack. Roman couldn't help but notice how functional his hand was.

“Did you build that yourself?” He asked. “Your arm I mean.”

“Yes, I did.” Logan answered, glancing at Roman.

“Why do you live alone? You're probably only as old as me.” Roman asked.

“I had to leave my hometown. That's all I'm willing to disclose at the moment.” Logan responded.

“Okay then… well, when do you usually sleep?” Roman hadn't even noticed, but after being in the house for a while, he was already feeling a lot better. Of course his injuries still hurt, but he could see clearly again.

“Whenever I feel that it's necessary.” Logan turned around, glaring daggers at Roman. “Now stop asking questions.”

“Okay, whatever.” Roman looked around the room, not wanting to meet Logan's eyes.

“Perfect. I suggest that you get some rest after the events of your day. I will do the same.” Logan nodded curtly and grabbed a book off the top of the stack on the desk, retreating into the other room once again.

Roman stood still for a moment, his brain catching up with everything that had just happened. He took off his armor, putting it on the floor by the chair next to the bookshelf. He curled up in the chair, trying his best to get comfortable despite… well, everything.

There were so many thoughts flooding his mind. He thought about his home. That monster was still sitting on his father's throne, wearing his father's crown, taking all the things Roman had left. He had to go back… but not yet. He couldn't. He wasn't brave enough. Needless to say, he didn't sleep well that night.

The next morning, Logan was already awake when Roman woke up. And there was another person there. That must've been Logan's friend. He was a bit shorter than Roman, with brown hair and dark clothes. He looked to be around the same age.

“Logan, your friend's awake.” He said, turning to face Roman. Roman's eyes widened as he saw the boy's eyes. Their color seemed to shift in the light, and he couldn't tell if they were brown or purple. Roman leaned farther back into the chair.

“It's you!” He exclaimed. The boy bit his lip nervously. “Two years ago today. You tried to kill me.”

“I don't know what you mean.” Logan's friend replied a bit too quickly. Roman grabbed his sheath and took out his sword, dropping it back on the floor. He reached to the bottom of the sheath, retrieving the two daggers that he had kept there.

“I believe these are yours.” Roman offered him the daggers. The other took them wordlessly, still clearly in shock from the situation. Roman stood up and approached him, filled with a bravery that he hadn't had the first time they'd met. He narrowed his eyes. “We have a lot to catch up on, don't we.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 172: Festival Planning and New Attack Training

Previously on BnHA: We spent some time with Gentle, our New Villain who commits chivalrous crimes to punish the worst scum of society, such as guys who sell expired pudding. He’s not as popular as that trendy League of Villains because he’s not big on violence. But he does have a new project up his sleeves! Meanwhile at U.A., class A got to work planning their cultural festival program. Jirou was in need of a drummer, and Bakugou somehow ended up getting volunteered. Turns out he’s actually pretty good, but he was reluctant to perform because he overheard some jerks from the department of gen ed talking shit about class A and blaming them for starting trouble all the time. So he wasn’t keen on the idea of performing to indulge these people. However he is on board to aggressively “knock them dead with his sound”, whatever that means! Everyone was like “...well all right then!” And everything was looking up. And then we found out that Gentle plans to invade U.A. during the festival. Because apparently we can never have nice things.

Today on BnHA: Jirou recruits the rest of the band members: Momo on keyboard, Tokoyami and Kaminari on guitar, and her own self on vocals. A handful of kids -- Todoroki, Kirishima, Sero, Kouda, and Aoyama -- are assigned to the “staging” team in charge of making everything look cool. And the rest of the kids are assigned to the Dance Team, including IIDA FUCKING TENYA, because when I tell you guys this manga always delivers everything I want, I mean ev.ery.thing. With that settled, Deku meets with All Might the next day and discusses his recent progress (or lack thereof) with One for All. All Might tells Deku he needs to develop a long-range attack, and they head out to the woods for some training. Deku learns that 20% Full Cowl gives him enough power to unleash wind pressure attacks. And with a little nudging, All Might gets Deku to realize he can create a new attack by activating 20% OFA in specific parts of his body, the way he did back before he mastered Full Cowl. Then to end the chapter, we cut to Aizawa and Mirio, who are bringing Eri to visit U.A. for the very first time.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 199 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

look who knows how to play the piano because she’s so stinkin’ rich!

MOMOJIROU IS ALIVE AND WELL, PEOPLE

oh my god look how cute she is

look how cute they are. GOD THIS IS THE BEST

Jirou says she’s gonna be on bass, so they just have guitar and vocals left!

cool cool. they can get literally anyone to do those and I’ll be happy. anyone EXCEPT Iida, that is. because Iida needs to be on that dance floor you guys

lol Todoroki

I’m fucking dying. Todoroki is nailing that space alien combination of “knows just enough to ask oddly specific questions while still somehow being totally naive and clueless”

Mina is explaining to those unaware that “staging” refers to things that set the atmosphere, such as disco balls, sparklers, streamers, etc.

I wonder if putting Aoyama in charge of that would lead to success or disaster

ooh, apparently Aizawa made arrangements to borrow the gym! so they’ll really have room to go nuts

I have no idea what’s going on in Mina’s head you guys but omg

yes. yes. I can see it now

this girl has a fucking VISION and she will not be deterred

TEAM SNOWMAN

okay so I’m fairly convinced now that Mina might actually be a creative genius and they should really let her loose more often in training. let that imagination go wild and see where it takes you. she could come up with some extremely unpredictable strategies. I’m serious

amazingly, no one is even arguing this except for Aoyama lol. he’s standing there all “I’m the disco ball?” while the rest of them are all “oh is this what you meant by teaming up? cool beans”

(ETA: no one argued it because this is literally what they ended up doing. pretty sure the staging team had one planning meeting and were all “okay, so basically just do all that stuff Mina said?” and agreed on it and then spent the rest of the month playing on their phones while pretending to work real hard. they didn’t even bother to work out the actual logistics of it until basically the night before. this is why Deku hadn’t checked that fucking rope you guys.)

I want to save this panel and use it as a meme reaction image omg

and that clack you see is the sound of the intern kids finally returning from their supplementary courses!

they’re excited to also get in on this!

Ochako is surprised that Jirou’s not singing!

-- oh no

when I said “literally anyone” I should have been just slightly more specific huh

oh thank god they’re making these guys try out first

I can’t fucking wait to see this in the anime omg

Hagakure says that Jirou’s singing is actually amazing and she thinks she should be on vocals

but Jirou really doesn’t want to and says it’s just gonna complicate things

but they’re all encouraging her!

oh my god she’s gonna do it!

AND THEY ALL LOVE IT

can’t fucking wait. omg. it’s gonna be like a whole year, but hopefully it’ll be worth it

so now Jirou says they need two guitarists

Kaminari is volunteering which is GREAT because Jirou and Momo are already there, so yeah

but Mineta is also volunteering which is. less great

oh my god

at this point the list of people I ship Bakugou with is significantly longer than the list of people I don’t ship him with, I think

OH NO MINETA CAN’T REACH THE FRET BOARD “BECAUSE OF HIS CHARACTER DESIGN.” OH WHAT A TRAGEDY. OH WELL

sometimes Horikoshi does nice things. I’ll admit

GASP

YESSSSSSSSSSS

THIS IS AMAZINGGGG. DREAM BAND. RIGHT HERE

Mineta is sulking and the girls are taking pity on him, and honestly I don’t mind it. weirdly. because it’s one of the few times he’s not being a little troll. he just looks small and sad

MAYBE I’M JUST FEELING GENEROUS TODAY. Mineta, you can exist today

like, even when Mina offers him a “harem part”, he doesn’t turn completely gross, he just kind of goes red a bit. I’m completely fine with this. Horikoshi can write this toned down version of Mineta and I’m cool with it. but I’m sure it won’t last though. alas

(ETA: my biggest problem with Mineta is that he beat Mirio in that goddamn poll his character has no purpose other than being obnoxious. he literally has no other personality traits besides “pervert.” if Horikoshi made even the slightest attempt to tone down that bullshit and actually try to do more with him I’d probably make more of an effort to at least tolerate him. but alas, that ship has sailed I think.)

holy shit how late did they stay up planning this??

you actually got Bakugou to stay up 5 whole hours past his bedtime. incredible

AND HERE THEY ARE

do you guys think Bakugou knows how to do that thing where you twirl the drumstick around on your fingers

also if he doesn’t get to shout “WE ARE SEX BOB-OMB!!!! ONE TWO THREE FOUR!” then I will forever be upset about the opportunity wasted. in fact, it’s happening in my mind whether Horikoshi likes it or not. that is canon. prove me wrong

(ETA: I have my own mental version of this entire performance and let me tell you, it is very specific)

AND IIDA FUCKING TENYA IS ON THE DANCE TEAM! WE DID IT TUMBLR

I’m gonna play some Yeah Yeah Yeahs because right now that’s kind of my mental image for what the band might sound like lol

so now we’re cutting to the break room the next day and Izuku is having some tea with dad

it’s very cute but also All Might’s wondering if Deku had something he specifically wanted to talk to him about, since he’s meeting up with him at such a busy time

geez All Might can’t a boy just have some TEA with his DAD without being INTERROGATED, GEEZ

but also he’s 100% right to ask, and he does it so gently so that Deku can either take the invitation to talk, or decline politely if he so chooses. All Might really is the best

sure enough, Deku does have something on his mind!

he’s telling All Might about how he was able to bring out 20% of OFA under duress, but only for a short time, and even then it put a ton of strain on his body. not only that but it wasn’t even enough to win

so he’s trying to figure out how he should fight in the current situation, since he can’t master 100% yet

um whoa

say what now??

I mean like, obviously yes, that would be ideal. but are you implying that there’s some sort of obvious long-range move he should be able to figure out?

Izuku says he wants to learn how to do a weather-altering technique (and I forgot All Might could do those; has he even done it since the opening chapter?), but right now he’s not able yet

but All Might says he has “a few other...” and then he trails off

and he’s saying they should change locations

omg. I’m so hyped!?!

so now they’re in a forested area on the school grounds, and Deku has changed into his gym uniform

is this still during school hours. and Deku still has those supplemental lessons on top of that. All Might doesn’t have any classes he’s supposed to be teaching either? just drop all of your fucking responsibilities then why don’t you

All Might is telling Deku to break out 20% full cowl, and Deku is hesitating

“YEAH!! IT’S FINE!” lol okay then

so here we go!

this is always so badass. and I appreciate it so much more when it’s not in the context of a super dragged out fight coming on the tail end of 40 chapters of nonsense

:D what’s he gonna doooo

WHOA

UH, DAMN!?

DEKU DID YOU NOT REALIZE THAT YOU HAD BECOME A TOTAL FUCKING BADASS??!

Deku is wincing though and he’s saying “but in any case, my body’s...”

but All Might is wagging a finger in a knowing way and he’s telling Deku to look back at his journey

damn we got like a powerpoint and everything

does Deku’s mind just naturally think this way. because he’s trained it through all of that obsessive note-taking. I realize this is mostly for our benefit, but it really wouldn’t surprise me if his thoughts actually were this organized

anyways his eyes are widening, because he’s clearly drawn some conclusion from this pattern that I have yet to see! I don’t have a big hero brain like you Deku

GASP

All Might says he wasn’t always bringing out 100% himself??

oh shit

so since he is capable of holding 20% briefly without doing permanent damage to himself, then if he combines points two and six -- drawing out 20% OFA to a specific part of his body -- then he can utilize this badass new air attack!

though All Might says it’s gonna be harder than it sounds, and that it requires significantly more nuanced control

so Deku’s thinking that he’s gonna practice with his fingers

oh god

I’m still traumatized from that fight against Todoroki honestly. I look at this and can’t help but think “oh shit he’s gonna snap them all one by one” oh my god. it’s making me very uncomfortable even though I’m fully aware it’s not actually going to happen. Deku you’ve fucked me up

oh snap and we’re fast-forwarding to the day of the cultural fest!!

(ETA: lol no, I just thought this because I saw Eri there. jumped the gun just a bit)

OH MY GODDD

 MIRIO IS THE SWEETEST, PUREST, GENTLEST, KINDEST SOUL ON PLANET EARTH AND IT’S SO DAMN GREAT

DON’T THINK I DIDN’T NOTICE THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD THERE, AIZAWA SHOUTA. OBVIOUSLY YOU HAD TO BE THERE WHEN THEY WENT TO PICK HER UP

ERIIIIII

SHE’S SO CUTE!! WEARING DIFFERENT CLOTHES FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!! DID THEY GET HER FUCKING SHOES OMG

SHE’S GONNA HAVE SUCH A GREAT TIME AT CLASS A’S DANCE PARTY. OR AT LEAST SHE FUCKING BETTER. GENTLE I S2G IF YOU FUCK THIS UP... [THROAT-SLITTING GESTURE!!!]

oh my god. I’m so excited oh shit

BONUS:

IT’S ERI’S PROFILE YOU GUYSSSSS. I’m gonna link to it over on aitaikimochi’s tumblr! here!

THIS OUTFIT IS THE CUTEST EVER. I’m gonna gush over it some more in tomorrow’s recap too. it’s just so cute

the clothes Aizawa got her just go to prove that no one is perfect. having some flaws just adds to his charm though

I also want to see Eri eating apples with Tokoyami now

so she is indeed six! my approximate guess was right! however as of where the manga currently is, she’s just about to turn seven. she’s getting so big! they have to figure out what to do about school for her. although her dad is a teacher so

[yoosungimagines]

Omg I'm so glad you made this tumblr! Uuuuh. I've got a request: imagine Yoosung finding out that the MC is a few years older than him (either before they have even met and he's developing feelings or when they're already a couple)? Hope it's not too much I'm asking for ;-;

took way too long to finish I’m sorry!! This is fairly long cause well, oops? i’m dramatic haha

also i made it so they’ve met but they’re not a couple i’m sorry if that’s not what you want aaaaa

this is actual trash i’m sorry

Rating: PG13

“Say, Seven, I’m not what they call a…”

Your voice was sheepish as you spoke into the phone, your eyes resolutely trained onto the ceiling and away from Seven’s picture displayed on your phone. There was an expression of defeat mixed with pure embarrassment on your face and your grimace would’ve made for a fun blackmail picture for the redhead.

“A what?”, he drawls teasingly, and you can practically feel the mischievous smirk on his stupid face. “Spit it out ______. I won’t know what you’re trying to say until you say it clearly.”

You wanted to slap him, but alas, his cheek was too far from the palm of your hand. “A-A,” you take a deep breath. Your next words come out in a high-pitched squeak, your fingers clenching around the fabric of your shirt. “A c-cougar!” Your eyes squeeze tightly and your hands fly up to cover your reddened face, a loud stuttering groan of embarrassment leaving your lips.

Seven’s hysterical laughter fills the room, making your ears bleed; you knew putting him on speakerphone was a bad idea! “Oh my god!”, he spits through his giggles. “I can’t believe- haha! A-A cougar- HAHAHA!” You groan again and the urge to hide yourself under the sheets have never been stronger.

“Shut up Seven!”, you cry, his laughs growing in volume at the sound of your suffering. After what feels like forever, his laughter slowly starts to subside, but you can still hear his small giggles between his panting breaths.

“Wh-Why do you ask? What makes you think you’re a c-cou-”, he snorts and you can hear a loud BANG. “C-Cougar-HAHA!” You roll your eyes in exasperation and you consider hanging up on the redhead. He obviously isn’t much help now. Laughing at you isn’t going to do anything for your crippling sanity.

“If you’d just stop laughing, I’d actually tell you.”

“O-Okay, okay, lemme just,” he pants, chuckling under his breath. “Calm myself down… Hooooo~ I can’t breathe.”

“I wish you’d stop breathing.”, you mutter bitterly and he snorts again.

“So cruel ______! I thought we were friends!”, his dramatic yell does nothing but annoy you even further and you tell him so, resulting in another heartbreaking shout.

“Seriously Seven, am I one or not?” His pondering hum makes you nervous and you pull the fabric of your bedsheets taut between your fingers. “You’re gonna have to explain to me why you think you’re a cougar first ______,” he says. Your mouth twists, displeased. “Because personally, I haven’t seen you do anything ‘cougar-like’ in the chatroom.”

You muster up the loudest, most tired sounding sigh you could make and you hear him chortle in amusement. “My friends joke around a lot. About me being a cougar and all,” you explain reluctantly, letting the silk in your grasp fall from your fingers. You instead pick at the stitches in your shirt, a worried lilt in your voice as you speak. “You know how I’m one of the oldest members in the RFA? I told my friends that and well, yeah…” The way your voice trails off is suspicious to say the least, as if you were hiding something from Seven.

“That still doesn’t explain why they think you’re a cougar. You do know what that word means, don’t you? It means to be sexually interested in younger men,” he rattles off, so casually that you wonder if anything can embarrass Seven. Then, his voice turns into something mischievous. “So? Who’s the lucky guy?”

Your flustered sputtering confirms his accusation. Mortified, you turn your body and bury your face into a pillow, your shrill screaming muffled. “______?”, you hear. “______, c’mon it’s not bad to be interested in someone younger than you. And knowing you, you’re probably not interested in just sex, right?” You squeal at the lewd word, pulling another chuckle from him.

Eventually, you turn your head away from the pillow, inhaling to calm your nerves. “Yoosung…”, you breathe out.

“What about Yoosung?”

“Th-The guy I’m interested in… It’s Yoosung.”

“…”

Your teeth snags onto your bottom lip when a lengthy silence comes from the other end. “S-Seven? You there?”, you ask, voice shaky. “I know it’s weird bu-”

“HOLY SHIT!”, you wince from the scream Seven emits. “HAHAHAHAHA YOU LIKE YOOSUNG?! DAMN ______! I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE INTO COLLEGE BOYS! HAHAHAHAHA!”

“I hate you, I hate you so much,” you hiss into the phone. “Laugh one more time and I’m keying your cars!”

He chokes on his laughs, struggling to plead with you through hacking coughs. “W-Wait ______! Let’s be reasonable here!” Seven’s frantic tone in his hoarse voice brings a smug smile on your face. “My babies don’t deserve this! Take me instead! Please!”

You haven’t your rolled your eyes this hard since… Well, ever. “Will you just-! Help me?!”, you huff, the desperation clear even through the annoyance in your voice. “I… I really like him and I don’t want him to be creeped out when he finds out that I’m like 6 years older than him.” You cringe at the thought, heart aching at the image of Yoosung’s face twisting in disgust.

“You mean you haven’t even told him your age?”, Seven asks softly. He sighs, clearly disappointed in you. “______… Yoosung won’t be creeped out.”

“How do you know that?”

“Have you not figured out what type of stuff this boy’s into? Trust me, you’re fine ______. Just tell him. It won’t change his feelings for you at all.”

“His feelings? For me?”

His chuckle feels more reassuring now, the slightest bit of confidence seeping into you from the deep sound.

“He likes you too ______. Probably way more than you think he does.”

-

“And then he shouts at me for not getting the item in time! Like, how was I supposed to get it when I was literally carrying his sorry butt?!”

Yoosung’s whiny rants were nothing but adorable to you. Admittedly, you were a little disappointed that the only reason he invited you over was to vent, but Yoosung is Yoosung and you’re weak.

You sink into the comfy couch, head lolling to the side to watch as he talks animatedly about his LOLOL raids, hands flailing about and lilac eyes alight with passion.

It’s been a week since your… Enlightening conversation with Seven and it’d be a lie to say it hasn’t been crossing your mind ever since. In fact, it’s concerning just how much you keep thinking about it. Every waking hour - in the shower, while you eat, while you work - it refuses to leave your head.

“He likes you too ______. Probably way more than you think he does.”

If what Seven had said was true, then…

You wet your lips nervously as Yoosung stops his babbling, your silence concerning him. “______? Are you okay?” His eyes peer deep into yours, worry shining in his hues. His pretty pink lips were pulled into a frown. You want to kiss it off of him.

‘He likes you too…’

‘Just tell him.’

‘It won’t change his feelings for you at all.’

.

.

.

“I’m 27!”, you blurt.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“Wait- Shit! Fuck! I didn’t mean to-!” With a loud, excruciatingly painful groan, you bury your flaming red face into your hands. You hadn’t meant to admit it so abruptly! Stupid Seven!

You can hear Yoosung shift next to you, his movements making you even more anxious. “Uhm,” he finally says. “Well, I’m 21…?” You can hear the question in his voice and you groan even more in embarrassment. Great, now you confused him…

“______? C’mon, tell me what’s wrong!” Yoosung’s hands reach out to grip at your wrists, his touch sending electric shocks up your spine. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your skin, each stroke shooting an arrow through your heart. “You know you can tell me anything right?”

You quiver under his stare, teeth latching onto and chewing your bottom lip to shreds. “My friends,” you manage to choke out, averting your gaze. His wide violet eyes were not good for your sanity. “My friends were teasing me… A-About how I’m a cougar.”

“A cougar?” He cocks his head in confusion. “What’s that?”

You want to D I E.

“Well you see Yoosung, when a woman loves a young man very very much…”

His eyebrows furrow. “So you’re telling me, you love someone and your friends are teasing you about it?”

“W-Well yeah, but the thing is he’s… He’s way younger than me and they just like to joke about that.” Yoosung looks strangely conflicted now, eyes downcast and mouth a thin line; it’s worrying. “Yoosung…?”

“Who is it?”, he asks, painfully hushed.

You could only stare at the blonde, confusion clear in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Who’s the guy?” He looks as if someone had stabbed him, betrayal and sadness embedded in his violet hues. “Who’s the guy you… you l-love?”, he practically spat out the word.

A sudden, dawning realization falls upon you and wow holy shit I’m an idiot. Yoosung was jealous. Kim Yoosung was JEALOUS.

You couldn’t help the smile that split across your face and you shake your head at the ridiculousness of it all. “Yoosung,” you laugh, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, pressing your foreheads together. “His name’s Kim Yoosung.”

You watch his expression transition from hopeless to shock to finally, glee. “M-Me?”, he sputters, his cheeks a beautiful red. “You love me?”

Your nod had him beaming up at you, your heart stuttering at the sight. He places his hands atop of yours, staring into your eyes with adoration. “I love you too.” he sighs, pretty lips curved into a dopey smile. He leans in to press a kiss to your nose and you nearly cried from how precious he was.

“Kiss me properly.” You grin when you see how flustered he’s become, puckering your lips to tease him even more. Warm lips capture your own in a tender kiss and you hum, pleased with his boldness.

He pulls away to kiss your cheek, then along your jaw and up to your ear, your little gasps fueling his actions. His warm breath against your skin send shivers down your spine, your ears a bright red.

“You know,” he sighs, his hands sliding down to take ahold of your hips, tugging you closer. “If you were a cougar, I wouldn’t mind if you pounced on me.”

[didilysims]

I meant to do a batch of these a couple of days ago, but then I noticed tumblr wasn’t showing some of the comments on the Activity page, so I left them, hoping they’d show up later. Alas, they did not. I thought we were past this, tumblr. :( I think I’ve tracked them all down now, but apologies if I missed anyone. It wasn’t intentional.

Anyway, here’s Part One of the

regarding the recent university and graduation posts plus the late-night thoughts for @dramallamadingdang​ @nekosayuri​ @taylors-simblr​ @moocha-muses​ @strangetomato​ and @penig​.

dramallamadingdang replied to your photo “There’s no ballet barre anywhere near here, Jamal. Did you lose a...”

Hey, he makes that leotard look *good*! :)

I think that leotard always looks good. Usually improved by the presence of a ballet barre, however. But even without, looking ridiculous doesn’t mean you can’t look good too!

nekosayuri replied to your photo “*sneak sneak sneak* Jonah: Oh, the door’s open. *saunters in* Jonah:...”

LOL that post you linked is amazing

Gotta love those crazy profs. :D I’m still looking forward to meeting the drama prof in this ‘hood...

nekosayuri replied to your post “Late-night thoughts & ramblings on tumblr that I have been pondering...”

@didilysims​ Kawaii is indeed Japanese for cute :3 I wholeheartedly agree with you on the shipping thing, by the way, just so you know. :D The thing I dislike the most is also when the creator of a story gives in and puts characters together that they didn't plan on before, because of fanservice. It goes completely against the plot, too. I don't do crackships either ¬.¬ I only recently learned what it even was. xD

Yay, I’m not alone! Ha ha. It bugs me a lot when creators give in to the fans too, especially when so often the story would have been better without these forced pairings. But I’m also the type of person who likes bittersweet endings best and I cheer for characters who choose duty over “love” (more often lust), so... Long, drawn-out, boring, and/or forced romance subplots just aren’t my thing, though I do enjoy some good relationship drama, as obviously my blog evidences. ;)

taylors-simblr replied to your post “Late-night thoughts & ramblings on tumblr that I have been pondering...”

I don’t get the not tagging thing either. I love tags, I overuse them, it’s where I put all my extra thoughts and they’re super helpful for searching. I try not to be rude to anons, I usually ignore any rudeness in a message and put it down to the person being in a hurry, or a non English speaker or something.

So useful for searching! That’s the part I really can’t wrap my mind around--do these people never go back and look for stuff on their own blog? I mean, maybe, but I have to wonder: why not?? Especially if you’re reblogging stuff, isn’t it so you can find it later? I won’t tell anyone how to run their own blog, so it’s really not a big deal, but I cannot understand.

I would say being in a hurry is not really an excuse for rudeness. Is it really so urgent that you can’t type out a please or thank you? Non-native speakers is totally cool, and I find people who are apologizing for bad English are usually way more polite and grammatically correct than their native speaking counterparts. :P  I definitely don’t want to excuse rude anons (when it’s obvious they are being rude) but sometimes I think people more often have their guards up when they get anon asks, and sometimes maybe the guards are too high. Which makes sense, considering the few who ruin it for everyone by sending anon hate. I think my filters are low because I don’t get a huge amount of anon asks, and have never been sent hate, plus most of the nonnies I see are often kind and helpful--those are the best anons!

(This reply kind of ran away with me...sorry!)

moocha-muses replied to your post “Late-night thoughts & ramblings on tumblr that I have been pondering...”

I've never realized it before (I'm not a very visual thinker) but my mental Anon image is apparently a generic stick figure typing on a keyboard.

I don’t often think visually either. Not really sure how my thinking works, actually, except that it does work...usually. :) I visualize people usually as vague faces without most features except maybe one unique thing, like the smile in this case. If I ever witness a crime, I would be totally useless at describing the suspect. “He had hair...I guess. Probably eyes too. And a nose. Overall he was...human-shaped.”

The typing stick figure is super cute, by the way. I can visualize that quite clearly!

strangetomato replied to your post “Late-night thoughts & ramblings on tumblr that I have been pondering...”

I feel as though No. 2 could be directed at me. I wish I were able to give everyone the full benefit of the doubt for every ask that their tone is just off, but if reading it initially felt like a punch in the gut, I don't see anything wrong in letting them know that "hey this came across as hurtful". I usually give myself some time to reflect before answering, and I often run them by someone else. But sometimes people are just rude, whether they mean to be or not.

And also, for myself, mood state can greatly influence how I react to things (see: feeling like this post was criticizing me, haha), which is why I do things like try to wait and see how I feel later. So I think if we're allowing anons the assumption that their tone might be off, we should allow those answering asks the benefit that maybe their negative thinking is colouring how they are interpreting the ask. And past experiences with anon hate can also be a factor.

These are some really good points and I appreciate you sharing them. I don’t get a huge amount of anon asks (although sometimes they come in a big wave, weirdly enough) so I don’t have to deal with constantly weighing the tone of each, and I imagine it can be tiring. Whether intentional or not, if someone can come across as rude, it’s not a bad thing to politely let that person know. In my experience of following you, I would say you have been overall kind and courteous to anons. This definitely wasn’t an aimed criticism, just a random late-night thought that I probably should have kept to myself. Please don’t take it personally, but I do appreciate you weighing in. It’s good for me to get the other side of the story, so to speak.

penig replied to your post

By "Parent Trap" fantasy I mean that a lot of kids whose folks divorce get elaborate fantasies about getting them back together, which can be fed by watching the movie. This is a big enough thing that counselors sometimes warn people dealing with the children of divorce not to let them watch The Parent Trap, as it creates false expectations and makes adjustment harder.

I sort of figured it was something like that. Makes sense. Too bad there weren’t any counsellors around to warn Allegra about the trouble her daughter could cause...

dramallamadingdang replied to your post

Exactly! It's the lactic acid build-up from the repetitive motion. So, if you play lots of chess, best to be ambidextrous so that one arm isn't bigger than the other. ;) And speed chess is best for muscle-building. Could be considered a cardio workout, even! ;)

I think we’ve got a new workout routine planned out! Quick, let’s patent it and start our own chess gym. We’ll be rich!!

nekosayuri replied to your post

I did send my sims on some outings, but it never happened to me :O maybe I should do it more often XD

You should! I used to always ignore the phone call invitations because they were inconvenient and I was busy doing other stuff, and thus I never bothered to go on outings. But now I nearly always accept the calls and I’m really enjoying the new minigame it’s added to my playing. To warn you, I found it really hard to get a decent score at first. It helps a lot to have an outing with friends that will always accept quick and fun interactions to get the score up!

dramallamadingdang replied to your post

Confession: Lately, I've been putting Bob Ross videos on YouTube and listening to them as I fall asleep. So relaxing! And I think I'm picking things up subliminally b/c my digital painting efforts are improving. The game needs a TV channel w/a Bob-Ross-li

Gah! Hit Enter by mistake. Anyway...a Bob-Ross-like character that gives Creativity points and Arts & Crafts enthusiasm. Jamal could be the star. His glasses could be the trademark rather than the perm. :)

He’s totally relaxing. I watched a lot of his videos before Christmas when I was knitting presents and his soothing voice fit the cozy atmosphere just right. I love that TV channel idea too. Might have to get Jamal to do a few video shoots! Once he gets his creativity skill up a bit... He’s been in pottery most of his life, which surprisingly (annoyingly) doesn’t count as creative.

[probably-enjolras]

Enjolras’ Anon Chapter 9

ughhhh i wanted it to be longer but i’m in too much pain to write more, like yeah it’s 1.6k but i wanted to get to 3k, alas

support me on AO3 cause it’s easier to reply to you that way!

Enjolras went home from his it’s-a-date-but-it’s-not-a-date smiling. As soon as he realized that he did in fact like Grantaire, everything felt so much lighter. There wasn’t a constant sense of dread and misery aviating over him.

He also knew where Grantaire lived. He thought about all the times that he was late, but now he could see R running down his stairs. Enjolras smiled at the thought. Grantaire wants to be on time, he really does. He wants to be present.

Enjolras flopped onto his bed, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He felt like a teenager again, blushing while thinking about his crush. He had half the mind to scold himself for being so emotional, but it felt too good to stop.

Enjolras pulled out his phone and sent a text to Courfeyrac and Combeferre.

Enjolras: it’s settled, i like him

Courfeyrac: eyy congrats

Combeferre: this leaves the question of ‘what now?’

Enjolras: i mean… dating?

Courfeyrac: that would be the logical step

Courfeyrac: you like him, he likes you, you two go off and fuck like bunnies!

Enjolras: great talk, let’s put that plan in action

Combeferre: yes, and do you have any plan of how to ask him out?

Combeferre: because saying ‘i know you like me because you’ve been talking to my blog on anon for a while and i went on a hunt to find you’ doesn’t seem like the best thing

Courfeyrac: i mean, why not?

Enjolras: ferre is right, he would want to know why i didn’t just ask him right away

Enjolras groaned and pushed his face into his pillow. Why did this have to be so hard? He just wanted to go out with Grantaire, but this whole scheme of how he even figured out it was R was so elaborate it would seem at best a dick move, and at worse a stalker move.

Courfeyrac: dammit why isn’t ‘hey i like you, let’s go fuck’ not enough

Enjolras: when have i ever been anything but extra

Courfeyrac: fair point

Combeferre: you’ll need to get him alone, and at a pretty nice place

Enjolras: not a restaurant

Enjolras: and it can’t be something he likes too much because then he won’t pay attention to me

Courfeyrac: i think you underestimate his ability to pay attention to you

Courfeyrac: hell, i think he underestimates his ability to pay attention to you

Combeferre: how about a picnic? Simple yet romantic

Enjolras: but i don’t want him to know i want to ask him out

Courfeyrac: movies?

Enjolras: nah, it’s dark and not a place for talking

Combeferre: lunch + a walk to that cafe with cats and books?

Enjolras: yes! I can ask him out during the walk and then we can go do whatever, and if it goes bad we can play with cats

Courfeyrac: ok, it won’t go bad, but it’s nice to have a backup plan

Enjolras: thanks for the advice, I’m gonna go talk to him now

Enjolras put his phone down, staring at the messages. He could do this, right? He liked Grantaire, and he had for a while, even if he didn’t realize it. Grantaire challenged his ideas like no one else, and he did it so nonchalantly. He was someone who bettered Enjolras in ways no friend could.

Enjolras sighed, laying down and looking at his ceiling. How do you ask out the man that betters your existence without even trying? Enjolras rolled over, looking at his desk. His computer was charging on top of a pile of books.

Enjolras sat up and grabbed his computer. He entered his password and logged onto Tumblr. He smiled when he saw that he had asks. The first three were random people and Enjolras deflated for a second, but the final one started with a phrase he had come to recognize on sight.

(passionate anon) we went out today, i mean, not in a proper date, but it did feel like it. he was so cute, and it was so easy to talk to him, i wasn’t expecting that, i thought we would only be able to talk when he had some alcohol in him. i hope we can do that again

Enjolras grinned widely, unable to hold in the sudden rush of joy. He rushed to post the messages and grabbed his phone. He took a deep breath, calming the last of his nerves, before opening up his messages.

Enjolras: hey, had a nice time today, wanna go for lunch again tomorrow? i don’t have anything going on

Enjolras held his breath as he watched the speech bubble in the left hand corner. It can’t take that long to answer a simple question, can it? After what Enjolras could only assume was an eternity, Grantaire responded.

Grantaire: yeah! do you have a place in mind?

Enjolras let out the breath he was holding and smiled to himself.

Enjolras: well i know this place, they serve great muffins and sandwiches, and then maybe that cafe with the kittens?

Grantaire: that sounds great! does noon work for you?

Enjolras: yeah, meet you there!

Grantaire: can’t wait

Enjolras laughed, he couldn’t help it. He had set up a time and place for him to ask Grantaire out. He flopped back down, smiling up at the ceiling.

“I’m really doing this,” he whispered. Enjolras sat back up and looked out the window. It was starting to get dark and he could see his reflection in the glass.

His cheeks were bright red and his hair was mess from his pillows, but he had the largest grin on his face. “I’m gonna do this!” he said to himself, louder this time. Enjolras laughed again, standing up to clean up after his day. He kept repeating that phrase to himself, in awe of what tomorrow has in store.

After he showered and brushes his teeth, Enjolras got into bed. He knew it wasn’t late, it was only 8:30pm, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t wait. Enjolras sighed, closing his eyes and willing sleep to come, and after a few minutes it did.

Sleep left after about six hours. If he had gone to bed at midnight or one, maybe that wouldn’t be such a problem. It would be six or seven, and that’s a reasonable time to start the day. Enjolras could get work done before he went out and he wouldn’t have to work on anything during the day.

But he hadn’t gone to bed at midnight, he had gone to bed at 8:30, and here is was, wide awake at 2:30am wide awake. Enjolras tried to go back to sleep. He got up, made some tea, read a little bit, and laid back down, ready to get some sleep.

Enjolras looked up at his ceiling, sighing to himself. He knew that it was the anticipation that was keeping him awake. It had happened all his life. On the first day of school, he would always wake up early and be ready for the bus an hour early than needed. The same thing happened on holidays and birthdays. His mind was ready to get stuff done, while his body just wanted to sleep.

Enjolras kicked off his blanket, cursing softly. He tried to get as comfortable as possible, but nothing helped. He groaned, pouting to himself. There was nothing he could do, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

There was a chance that his friends were still awake. Most of them stayed awake until they passed out around three am. That gave him a solid thirty minutes to talk to someone. Enjolras considered it, but decided against it. He didn’t want to explain to his friends how he already got six hours. Some would call him old, some would want to know why he went to sleep at that time, and Courfeyrac would manage to do both.

Enjolras unlocked his phone and, against his better judgement, looked for Grantaire’s instagram account. Being awake late at night and looking through his crush’s instagram was a perfectly normal thing to do, right?

Grantaire didn’t post often, but it was still filled with photos. Some of them were of his artwork or photographs of what he found beautiful. Enjolras smiled, Grantaire was a true artist.

Other photos were photos of his friends. There was one of Joly and Bossuet, clearly not knowing that the photo was taken as they held hand and smiled at each other. Another was of Eponine, smiling at the camera and raising a glass in its direction. The one after that was of Bahorel and Courfeyrac the day they decided to have a rollerskate race down the street. The image depicted the moment Courfeyrac crossed the finish line. It didn’t show the moment after, when Courfeyrac fell when he tried to stop. Enjolras smiled, making a mental note to screenshot all the photos so he could keep them for himself.

But the majority of the photos were of him. Some were of Enjolras giving speeches, others were him talking with friends, or just him on his phone. Enjolras couldn’t believe he never noticed Grantaire take these. He put his phone down, looking at the window.

It still reflected his image, but Enjolras didn’t see himself anymore. He didn’t understand what about him made Grantaire take such beautiful photos. He felt like he didn’t deserve the attention.

Enjolras looked down at his hands and put his phone on his bedside table. He sighed and closed his eyes, but his mind kept running. Maybe if it ran far enough, he would be too tired to think anymore.

Enjolras’ wish to sleep was finally granted around four am, and he drifted off into less than peaceful sleep.

find that les mis lyric! it’s not hidden too well, whoops