#ITS SO GOOD PLEASE CHECK IT OUT AND SUPPORT IVORY!!

[clarebear-0925]

EVERYONE GO WATCH IVORYCELLO’S NEW VIDEO NOWWW!!

It’s the first episode of a period piece drama (with a sinister? mystery lurking beneath). The cinematography is amazing and she produces all of the music herself!!

Go check out Whitepine!

There is also a trailer if you want to see that first :)

[leiawritesstories]

Stunning

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 7: All Dressed Up @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: flirting, swearing, rich people talk, badly concealed horniness, NSFW content, a few fun little hidden jokes teehee

A/N: hi hello this is technically for tomorrow BUT it's getting posted now because i'm taking the LSAT tomorrow and i'm going to be way too mentally exhausted to function, yayyyyy 😃 also, i might disappear for a little while after the exam, bc i also just started my senior year of college and it's a bit busier than i thought lol. anyway.....enjoy!!! at your own discretion please :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If the club was fancy, its VIP lounge was a study in luxury. A pair of black-suited bouncers flanked the door, their dark-shaded eyes constantly scanning the club, scrutinizing each and every person who approached the lounge doors. Rowan handed over the thick square of embossed ivory paper from his tux jacket pocket and nodded amiably at the bouncers as they checked his invitation and waved him in. Conspicuous as he’d felt before, when he was walking through the club in a custom three-piece designer tux, he felt positively unremarkable among the sea of haute couture that thronged the VIP lounge, all of them centered around a tall, elegant woman in a fitted sheath dress of molten gold with a slit that crept dangerously high up her right leg. Her head tipped an inch sideways with the echo of her laughter, and she rested one graceful hand on the forearm of the handsome man she was talking to, crimson-tipped fingernails contrasting sharply with his black jacket. 

Aelin Galathynius. 

The only daughter of perhaps the most influential voices in Terrasen’s political scene, Aelin filled the spotlight like she was born to it. Which she was. She’d been appearing in front of press cameras and journalists practically since her birth because Evalin Ashryver, the first female secretary of state, had wanted to show the world that a woman could have both a successful high-profile career and a family. Furthermore, her father was Rhoe Galathynius, the deputy prime minister, and he had personally taught his only daughter how to handle the press. 

At twenty-nine, Aelin was one of the most recognizable faces in Terrasen, though that was mostly due to her success as a former professional volleyball player and current coach, as well as an incredibly generous philanthropist, rather than her parents’ collective renown. Rowan had known Aelin since high school, had harbored a crush for her practically as long, and since he was also a retired athlete and the head of a foundation that supported talented young athletes whose families couldn’t afford their sports, he often crossed paths with Aelin at events like this one. 

She was chatting with Dorian Havilliard, the oldest son of Prime Minister Havilliard and a childhood friend of hers, when Rowan strolled over and nodded cordially at the dark-haired man. “Good to see you again, Havilliard. Do you mind?” 

“Not at all!” Dorian air-kissed Aelin’s cheeks. “Whitethorn, good to see you as well. I’ll have my assistant reach out to yours to schedule a proper meeting, yes?” He had recently indicated his interest in sponsoring one of Rowan’s foundation events. 

“Sounds perfect.” Rowan shook Dorian’s hand and pretended not to notice as the other man stage-whispered “he’s so hot” to Aelin before he left the two of them alone. 

“Rowan.” Aelin’s crimson lips curled into a smile. “What brings you here? I thought you usually avoided these little parties like the plague.” 

“I try,” he said dryly. “Unfortunately, there are several key donors here, and my VP practically threatened to strangle me if I didn’t show up and have a drink with them.” 

She chuckled and took a delicate sip of the champagne in her hand. “I wasn’t aware I was one of your key donors, Rowan.” 

“Maybe I’m using you as a human shield,” he teased. 

“I’m afraid I’m more of a spear than a shield,” she said with a wink. “That means I’ll charge at your big scary donors with you if you can work up the balls to ask.” 

“Can you blame me for hesitating?” He swiped a glass of champagne from a passing server’s tray and locked his gaze onto Aelin as he took a deep sip. “You look stunning in that dress, Aelin, and I’m afraid that’s all anyone will see.” 

“Ah, stop it.” She swatted his arm. “I’ll get their attention, and you’ll capture it like you always do with your cute little big-old-shy-guy smile and blush.” His cheeks heated, and she grinned. “There, you see? One of your usual protests that you ‘don’t do as much as you want to do’ and you’ll have those donors eating from the palm of your hand.” 

“I’d like to eat you from the palm of my hand,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “You’re sure?” 

“Of course.” She set down her champagne and looped her arm through his. She lowered her voice to a throaty whisper. “And if you want to eat, Whitethorn, all you have to do is ask.” 

His pants tightened. He swallowed thickly, forced himself to think about the donors in order to control his traitorous body, and covertly poked Aelin in the ribs. “Quite a naughty thing to say, Aelin.” 

She winked lazily at him. “We’re at a club, Rowan. Certain things happen at clubs.” 

“Such a brazen woman.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, and his lips just barely brushed her neck. “What kind of things are you thinking about, hmm?” 

“Schmoozing with donors, for one.” She laughed softly at his disgruntled expression and brushed a megawatt smile across her face as they approached one of the couples who were frequent donors to his foundation. “Connall, Sorscha, delighted to see you here!” 

Connall had been one of Rowan’s teammates, and he’d retired a year before Rowan so he could spend more time with his wife, Sorscha, and their family. “Surprised you made it, old man,” he joked as he clasped hands with Rowan and affectionately thumped him on the back. 

“Trust me, we both are,” Rowan deadpanned. “Sorscha, you look lovely as always. How are the little ones?” 

“Growing up too damn fast,” Connall sighed. 

Sorscha nodded in agreement. “Lyla started walking the other day; I turned around for five seconds and she made it into the other room. I almost had a heart attack.” She laughed. “And Gray has been obsessed with taking care of the garden, except that he doesn’t know the difference between the weeds and the herbs.” 

“Little guy brought his mama a fistful of ‘bad weeds’ that were actually dill,” Connall added, snickering. “Oh, and James is doing fantastic at the football camp.” 

Rowan smiled. “That’s amazing! How is it having him stay with you?” One of the projects he was trying to start involved pro athletes having orphans and foster kids stay with them when they participated in training camps for their sports. 

“We love it.” Con grinned down at his wife. “He’s still a little shy with the kids and he basically lives out of his duffle bag, but he’s a lot more talkative now.” 

“He seems more at ease,” Sorscha said. “It could be that he’s made friends at the camp, or that my son pretty much idolizes him because he’s a big boy who plays sports, but I think he’s also just more… comfortable.” 

“That’s almost exactly what we were hoping would happen.” Rowan squeezed Aelin’s hand, and she beamed up at him. “Good. Well, I hope this helps convince the board.” 

Con thumped Rowan’s shoulder. “We’re in your corner, man. I’d be happy to tell the board about our success if you need.” 

“I just might take you up on that.” Rowan shook Con’s hand and accepted Sorscha’s hug. “Thank you so much.” 

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Aelin teased as they walked away, heading for another donor that Rowan had spotted. “You’re a natural—just get them talking about how much they want to help these kids or how much they love what they’re already doing, and they’ll give you their support.” 

His hand slid to her lower back, guiding her through the throngs of people. “Wish I had half as much confidence as you have, Ae.” 

“Stop that,” she chided. “Rowan, your foundation is hugely successful because of you. That much is evident, and I’ll keep trying to convince you of that until you accept it.” 

“I know a few ways you could convince me,” he murmured, half to himself. 

Her smile melted into lazy dangerousness, and sparks kindled behind her stunning turquoise eyes. “Do you, now?” 

His hand curled possessively around her hip. “I do.” Heat raced through her blood at the weight of his touch. “Dance with me.” 

“Of course.” 

They stepped into the swirl of couples dancing in the middle of the lounge, and Aelin gasped quietly when Rowan pulled her so close that she was almost flush against him, wrapping one arm around her waist with his hand on her hip and lacing his free hand with hers. So close she could feel the thrum of his heartbeat, she draped her free arm around his neck, fingers toying with the collar of his pressed black shirt. The song changed, shifting to a deep, pounding bass and sultry vocals, and her body moved in near-perfect tandem with his as he led her through the dance. 

“All that hockey training certainly gave you good moves, Ro,” she teased, flicking her gaze up to his through her lashes. 

He smirked languidly and rotated his hips in a borderline lustful circle. “And all your volleyball training probably gave you strong legs.” He tipped his head down and purred his next words into her ear. “But how long until they start shaking?” 

“Dream on, hockey boy,” she whispered, even as desire uncoiled between her legs at the sinful rasp of his voice. 

“Every night.” Her breath caught at the admission in those words, and when he brushed a thumb across her lips, she leaned into the touch. Her nod was confirmation enough, and he replaced his thumb with his lips, kissing her softly at first and then deeper, slower, the stroke of his tongue almost too slow for the heat pounding in her blood. 

In a hazy blur, they were in the club’s bathroom, Aelin sucking in a sharp breath as Rowan yanked her dress up around her waist and planted her bare ass on the marble countertop. He chuckled, a low dark gravelly rasp that curled up her spine like smoke, as his eyes traced down her body and discovered her lack of underwear. “Dangerous move, darling,” he murmured, attaching his lips to her neck and pressing his calloused thumb directly onto her clit. “No panties? Anyone could see you, Aelin.” 

“Anyone—ahh, Rowan!—isn’t going to see,” she panted, her words broken up with gasps and hitched breaths. “Just…fuck, just you.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.” Free hand reaching down the front of her dress to tease her hardened nipples, he thrust three fingers into her, reveling in her broken moan and the way her eyes scrunched shut in pain-edged bliss. “Hold still for me, pretty girl.” Wordlessly, she nodded, bracing her hands on the countertop to stabilize herself. He smirked and kissed her hard, swallowing her moans, and pumped his fingers roughly, bringing her to her first orgasm of the night within a few minutes. He worked her through the high, teasing her sensitive clit just enough to make her whimper when he withdrew his glistening fingers and licked them clean, gaze locked on her the whole time. 

“Please, Ro.” She whispered his name, her plea a raspy breath. “Need you to fill me up.” 

“Good girl.” He pushed his trousers and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, and her eyes went wide and dark as she stared at his size. 

“Th-that…” Her mouth went dry. “That’s not going to fit.” 

He brushed his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. “It will, pretty girl. Trust me, it will.” He pushed one of her dress straps off her shoulder and palmed her breast. “Your pretty pussy took my fingers so well, Ae, getting all ready for my dick.” 

Her breath escaped in a shuddering groan. “How is it so hot when you say filthy things like that?” 

“Because you’re my dirty little good girl.” He smirked and tilted her chin up to brush a bare feather of a kiss over her smudged lipstick. “Can you stay quiet for me?” She nodded, and he kissed her as he dipped his fingers into her cunt again, working her in long slow strokes. When she wrapped her hand around his wrist and whispered that she was ready, he lined his cock up and pushed into her slowly, savoring the tight grip of her pussy around his dick and the muffled whimpers she made as she struggled to stay quiet while accommodating the size of his velvet steel schlong. 

“Rowan,” she choked out, near desperate. “Please!” 

“Good fucking girl,” he groaned, and he rocked into the cradle of her hips, thrusting with increasing force. Gripping her waist, he pinned her to the counter and fucked her hard, and she buried her face in his shoulder to muffle the uncontrollable moans that tore from her throat. The soap dish clattered to the floor, and he just kicked it underneath the sink and thrust harder, hurtling them both towards climax. Aelin tipped her head back and rasped out his name as she came, ecstasy written all over her features, and he groaned her name as he came inside of her. As their bodies stilled, he gently pulled out, smirking at the sight of his rowillymilk dripping down her legs. 

She trailed a finger between her thighs and lifted it to her lips, licking their cum off and humming softly in pleasure. “Delicious.” 

He growled and pulled his pants back up and lifted her off the counter, stopping to fix her dress before he laced his fingers with hers and led her out of the bathroom and back through the flashing strobe lights of the lounge and out a side door. “Your place or mine?” 

“Mine.” She flicked a heated glance at him from under her darkened lashes. “Got a few toys I like to use in my bedroom.” 

“Get in the car.” Rowan pulled the passenger door of a sleek black SUV open with more force than strictly necessary, the muscled lines of his body tense, the gleam of his eyes predatory. Aelin touched the smudged lipstick at the corner of her mouth, wiping it away as she slid gracefully into the car. He closed the door and went around to the driver’s side, and she sucked in a half-surprised, half-aroused gasp when he accelerated down the dark, empty city streets with a hand splayed on her thigh. Heat pulsed between her legs, radiating outward from the warm, firm weight of his palm atop her leg. 

She at least had enough of her wits to direct him towards her townhouse. “Turn left here,” she directed, guiding him down the familiar path to her home. “First right, then second right.” He navigated the turns with expert precision, and it was only minutes before he’d pulled into the single parking space marked out in front of her property. 

A sudden, thick silence blanketed the vehicle, and Aelin had the urge to caress Rowan’s face when she caught sight of the faint uncertainty nearly buried in his fiery gaze. So she did, gently tracing her fingertips across his cheekbones. “Welcome to my home, Ro.” She winked lazily. “Want me to show you my bedroom?” 

His lingering hesitation melted into molten, commanding desire. “That’s my good girl.” The praise flowed over her like sunlight. “Can you get out of the car, Ae, or do you need to be carried?” 

“Someone has a high opinion of himself.” She clicked her tongue and smoothly climbed out of the car. He prowled around from the driver’s side, banded one thickly muscled arm around her waist, and pressed her back against the door. 

“Still so naughty,” he murmured. “What should we do about that, hmm?” 

“Why don’t you come inside and show me?” she whispered right back. 

He kissed her, and it would have been sweet if not for the cum sticking to her thighs. “Good girl.” Hand in her hand, he followed her into her townhouse, locked the front door behind them, and waited all of twenty seconds for her to drop her small purse before he hauled her over his shoulder and stormed up the stairs. She managed to point him towards her bedroom door, and he set her onto her bed with uncharacteristic gentleness. 

And tore her dress down the middle. 

She was halfway through an outraged gasp when he yanked her hips to the edge of the mattress, dropped to his knees, and licked her dripping pussy. Her outrage kindled into lust, and she plunged her fingers into his hair, shoving him closer as his tongue drew harsh patterns on her needy clit. Through the incoherent, garbled whimpers and moans streaming from her throat, she managed to reach sideways and grab her wand vibrator from her bedside table and switch the toy on before tracing the buzzing tip around her stiff, aching nipples. 

“What,” Rowan growled, “do you think you’re doing, hmm?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just took the vibrator from her and replaced his tongue with the toy, teasing her cunt with too-light touches and biting kisses, ignoring her breasts altogether. “Did I say you could touch yourself, Ae?” 

“N–no, sir,” she whispered. Calling him sir had been impulsive, but it felt so right. 

He swore filthily and shoved his pants off, letting his massive meat pole spring free. “That’s correct. Now be a good girl and put your hands above your head.” The vibrator skimmed her throbbing pussy and dipped farther back, circling the rim of her ass, and her fists curled into the pillows above her head as words failed her. He seemed pleased with her obedience, because he kept the toy there as he returned his mouth to her cunt and devoured her, tongue spearing into her and teeth scraping her most sensitive parts. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes before stars exploded across her vision as she came so hard she shook with the force of it. 

He turned off the vibrator, threw it across the floor, stripped out of the rest of his clothes, and hauled her up the bed, kissing and nipping up her body as he went. “Don’t hold back,” she breathed, the words shaky from the last waves of her orgasm but no less confident. 

“Scream for me, pretty girl,” was all he said in response, and he flipped them over and pulled her down onto his cock. She was so wet that her cunt slid down effortlessly, and he didn’t give her any time to adjust before he lifted her hips up and down, helping her ride his dick at a frenetic pace. “Fuck, Aelin!” 

“Fuck, Rowan!” she screamed in tandem, head falling back in bliss. He sat up, deepening the angle, and fucked her relentlessly, until she was a mess of broken cries of his name. 

“Come with me,” he ordered, and he pinched her clit sharply. She screamed his name to the gods as she shattered, and he came with her, burying himself deep. He rocked his hips gently as she shook, working her through every last second of the drawn-out orgasm, milking his own pleasure. As she calmed and rolled off of him, sprawled onto her stomach, he ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing the mussed strands. “So fuckin’ good, Fireheart.” 

She turned onto her side and grinned, linking her fingers with his. “Happy anniversary, my love. Should we do that again next year?”

~~~

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[earthfire-75]

You Send Me Flying

Chapter Seven:

(Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta’d by @lady-jane-revisited. Based on The Dirt movie as I don’t yet own the book. Warnings: language and smut)

We headed down stairs and piled into her car, her driving and myself in the passenger seat with the other guys in the back. My fingers were itching to reach out for her, but I fought off the urge. No reason to give those idiots any more fuel. When we pulled into the place, I prepared myself for their antics, because where of all places does she take us? A sex shop.

They’re whooping and laughing in the back seat when they realize it and even she giggles a bit. “Alright, get it all out now. I expect you to act like adults when we get in there. Got it?” She was trying to be stern, but her unsuccessfully-stifled giggles weren’t helping. It was infectious and I cracked a smile as well.

“Good luck with that,” I commented as I got out of the car.

We went inside and she got the clerk to help us with the boots while she looked out for a few other things to pull the costumes together. It went surprisingly smoothly and we met her at the checkout where she pays for it all. I let the other guys go ahead of me, but I pulled her off to the side.

“Have you been paying for all this?”

“Yeah. I mean, Nikki put me in charge of costuming.”

I must have looked as furious as I felt, because she was suddenly standing up straighter and placed her hands on my cheeks with concern on her face. “Mick, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“You’ve been paying for everything out of your own pocket! I’m guessing without help?!”

“Wait…No. Mick, look at me. Nikki and I pooled some of our savings together. Tommy and Vince threw in some too and we opened a bank account for the band. We didn’t ask you, because you’re paying child support.”

My eyes shot to hers for a second before looking away again. I quietly replied, “They weren’t supposed to tell you about that.”

“Yeah, well they were supposed to tell you about the account. What are we going to do with our children, dad?”

Something stirred in me, hearing her call me that. It surprised me that I would react like that, but I pulled her flush against me, letting her feel how hard I was getting. “Screw the kids, say that again.”

“What? Dad?” She asks, sounding confused at first, but then her eyes lit up as the dots connected in her mind and she leaned her head a little to the side so her lips just grazed my ear. “Or would you prefer “Daddy?” She pulled back, looking up at me with innocent eyes and started to back away.

A low growl escaped me at the game she was playing and I managed to hook my fingers through her belt loops before she could turn around to escape. “Oh, no you don’t, Princess.” I tugged her back to me and she gasped when our hips met but there’s a loud honk from her car before I got the chance to kiss her. The trio of idiots were staring straight through the shop’s glass windows from outside at us.

“Get a room!” came their collective cheer.

“I’m gonna kill them.”

“No, you’re not.”

I grumbled under my breath and she shot me a look that told me it would be better for me if I didn’t. “Fine. I won’t.”

She put the bags in the trunk and we headed back to the apartment. The guys and I practiced some more while she locked herself in her unit again to tirelessly work on putting the costumes together. She came back up a little after lunch with her arms full of red and black pleather, one of the boot boxes and a small sewing kit. She handed the pleather material and boots to Nikki before shooing him off to go try it on.

***

Reader’s POV

Nikki took the pile from my arms so I could take the sewing kit. His face lit up, like a kid being given his first present on Christmas, and he ran off to his bedroom. I paced around the front room of the apartment waiting for the bassist to come out. I almost sighed in relief when he finally did with a serious look on his face.

“How does it fit?” I asked, sounding as nervous as I felt.

“Like a fuckin’ glove, man! This is awesome!” He enthused, now cracking a smile and turning for all to see the outfit, front and back before coming up to me and giving me a bear hug.

I laughed and returned the hug. “Are you sure it fits ok?

“Yes, stop worrying! I promise I love it!”

“Ok…if you’re sure. Do you want to keep it here, or do you want me to hold onto it?”

“It’s probably better if you hang on to the costumes. They might get ruined here.”

“Alright. Go change back.”

“Am I next, dude?” Tommy asked, practically bouncing on his feet.

“No. Yours is last because it’s the easiest.”

“Aww, man! Wait, shouldn’t Mick’s be the easiest? His is all black, dude!”

“It might be all black, but I had to sew a damn jacket! Sounds easy, right? It’s not.”

“Oh…damn, dude.”

I turned to the singer, “Vince you’re up.”

The man jumped up from his seat and happily grabbed the outfit, giving it a look-over before trying it on “Sweet!” He comes out looking just as excited as his fellow bassist, “This is so awesome! Check me out, man.”

“And it feels alright? It’s not too tight or too loose or anything?”

Vince was a little busy running his hands over the material at first, but then answered me nonetheless, “You kidding? It fits great. We’re gonna be so badass! The chicks are gonna love it!”

The rest of the gang could agree on that matter, giving each other high fives. I smiled and let him know that I could hold on to it all for them. I gulped as I gathered the next outfit for Mick, clearly seeing the rest of the guys lurking over him like a group of vultures. The guitarist kept his cool and said nothing, aside from a slight grunt as he got up from the couch. He gave me a quiet expression of thanks and headed over the bedroom once Vince returned with his clothing and placed it on the table. Some minutes passed while he was changing and though so far there were no complaints, l still wondered if he was alright, or if he needed any assistance. After seeing him in pain like that, I was getting a little worried.

“Hey I need a little help here,” Mick notified.

I made my way towards the room, ignoring Tommy’s repeated attempt to get under my skin by commenting not to take too long. I knocked on the door, “Mick, are you decent?”

“Yeah, come in, just shut the door.”

The man was nowhere to be found after I closed the door and looked around. However my heart started to slam against my ribcage when he stepped out of the bathroom wearing his full ensemble, a big smirk across his face. The black on black look was absolutely perfect on him. The pentagram headband, the studded boots with the intertwining chains, the belts across his chest, the pleather, and the collar. Jesus Christ. The pleather and collar were too much for me. Minus the make up, he was so close to looking the way he did in my dream, the sinister and demonic creature that put me over the makeup table and took me for a ride. I wanted him, no I wanted nothing more than to let him have me anywhere]: pressed against the wall, letting him roughly pull down my pants so that I could spread my legs and he could taste me. Then grab me by shoulders, hurl me onto the bed, and beg for him to fuck me until I couldn’t walk. Still, the costume would get ruined and of course we would never hear the end of it from the idiot patrol.

“This is really cool, you really outdid yourself with this,” he remarked, walking closer to me.

It finally hit me, “You didn’t really need any help did you?” I asked, closing in the gap by hooking my finger in the ring of his collar, biting my lip as I stared deeply into those sparkling blue eyes. That must have done something to him, his breathing becoming a little shaken, and his eyes widening when I whispered to him, “Daddy...”

His pupils were suddenly dilated, blackness engulfing the pale irises. The next thing I knew, Mick held me very close to his body, his hands grasping my back. I tried to keep my sighs quiet as he kissed my lips, however I couldn’t help but let a squeal slip out when he deliciously devoured my neck with his mouth. The heat from our bodies only increased when he pressed me against a wall, his kisses becoming hungrier by the second as my own hands tugged at his raven black locks.

“Mick, oh Mick...” I whispered.

However reality had reared its ugly head back into the frame when we heard banging from the other side, “Hey! Quit fucking around you two!” Tommy wailed. “Come on, that’s our room!”

Mick shouted back, “Fuck you, you fucking teenager! Open those legs, Princess. Daddy needs you-”

“No, no Mick. Please not now, it’s not a good time. Not with those three right outside the door.”

He was clearly frustrated but took his hands off of me, groaning ast he backed off. Still, I wanted him just as badly, so I thought of a different alternative as I clicked the door shut, lifted up my shirt, and pulled down my bra, “Mark me then, please Daddy.”

Without hesitation, Mick immediately held my breasts and pressed his lips to my skin. He was gentle at first, looking at me to see if I was enjoying the feeling of his mouth. I could feel the pulsations between my legs increasing as I whispered his name. I gasped when he took a nipple and suckled on it with ease, but I needed more from him. No sooner did I settle my hand onto the back of his head that he increased the speed of his sucking. His lips were wet, creating a very moistened sound that invaded my ears. He switched over to the other side and did the same, biting down a bit and moving his head back until my sensitive bud was released from his ivories. The sounds of Tommy’s knocking had completely drowned out as he pleasured me with his mouth and I moaned loudly. I couldn’t stop watching the way he pleased me, feeling my panties getting soaked, especially when I saw the fresh blemishes and crescent marks that were upon my chest. I was nearly there and so was he, yet he had to stop for both our sakes.

He gave each breast one gentle kiss and one little lick to my nipples, he leaned into my ear and growled, “You took that like a good girl, Princess. But Daddy doesn’t want to ruin all your hard work.”

I was in a trance as I responded back instinctively, “Thank you Daddy.”

@nature-and-music @lady-jane-revisited @mickmarstookmyheart @sophiazeppelinchick

[eartht137]

FOR THE BETTER pt II

Hey curvies, glad you liked the first part of my story yay. I now bestow upon you part 2. I went a bit out of the way with this chapter, but I hope you like it. The singing part is something I did in class once on a whim, it didn't work as good as I described in the story, I still had to submit my work LOL. Enjoy my little curvies MMMMWWWahHHH!

Dark Clark Kent x (Black)!Plus Size Reader SUMMARY: Mr. Kent said friends til the end of the week right? Think again. Y/n, still getting used to having Mr. Kent as a friend, is trying to be a bit more bold. She's trying to adjust to change and even though sometimes he may seem a bit pushy, she doesn't mind, its all friendship right? He'll back off after awhile right?

You walked in class, no paper in hand and you refused to meet Clarks disappointed gaze. You weren't the only one without a paper but you were really nervous about the presentation you had up your sleeve. You just hoped it made sense. "Alright, looks like we're getting speeches today. Who wants to go first? Hmm?" He said with his hands on his hips. No one volunteered. "Am I going to have to voluntell somebody?" he gave you "the look" over his glasses. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you shakily stood as first volunteer. "Alright Miss Y/l/n, lets hear it." You could hear disappointment dripping in his voice, but you wanted to do this. You took a deep breath, and started to sing. 'Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again, because a vision softly creeping left its seed while I was sleeping, and the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains. Within the sound!!!!!!!!! Of silence.' you ended making everyone freeze and stare. "My voice is pretty much the best thing I like about me. I-I didn't think a paper could put in words what my voice could. Th-that's my speech." You said awkwardly sitting down. You'd never sang in front of anyone like that before, you hadn't even joined the choir, so singing in front of everyone was a huge step for you. Just as you'd finished processing what you'd done, the classroom erupted in cheers and applause. You were shaking at how many people liked what you'd done. You really began to shake when you saw Clark clapping for you too. "That's my wife!" One of your classmates yelled across the room smiling at you. "Alright, alright. Miss Y/l/n," Clark started. "That's Mrs. Bankston to you." the same classmate yelled out making everyone laugh. Your face heated up a bit. "Miss Y/l/n thank you for the speech. It'll suffice this time, next time I want a paper. Okay, Bankston, you're up next." "Aw Mr. Kent for reals? Like how am I supposed to follow up an act like that? Besides we're duo. Like ebony and ivory..." He serenaded holding his hand out toward you, making you giggle. "Mr. Bankston Miss Y/l/n has fantastic gpa in comparison, so seeing as your such a duo I would've expected a lot better." Clark shaded calmly, "So unless you want it to suffer any further, I suggest you cut the crap and give your speech." Clark said a bit irritated. The rest of class was filled with boring speeches from classmates who weren't even prepared to do their work. When class was dismissed, you tried easing out of the room without being noticed. "Uh, Miss Y/l/n, my office please?" He said looking over his glasses at you. You inwardly groaned and went back to his office. "So, what excuse do you have for not doing your paper?" "I honestly couldn't come up with the words to describe how it felt to use my voice. I tried I really did, but honestly, I really just couldn't find the words to describe what I like about me when-I just couldn't find the words." "Y/n, you do not give yourself enough credit. You're a very good writer and obviously an incredible singer. You can be whatever-" "Clark, do I look like a singer to you? No I don't, that's why I write, I know my words have more impact behind the scenes." You said with strength. You didn't have to be seen to be heard. "You can be whatever you want to be and you'll have my support every step of the way. That's what friends, real friends do." "Clark we are not still friends, we said til the end of the week." you shook your head at him with a smile. He smiled and stuffed his hands in his pocket. "Sorry, I'm not going away." "Figures." You laughed a bit. "What are you doing tonight? We could have a movie night." "Will Lois be there?" You asked excited. "I can ask her if you want me to." "I guess it'd be cool, but for like 30 minutes though." "Y/n no movie lasts 30 minutes. Nice try though." he laughed. "We'll be over at 8." "'Kay bye!" You said rushing out of his office off to your next class. That night at 8 on dot a knock came to your door, you answered expecting to see the couple standing there but was a bit shocked to

just see Clark. "Hey, Lois coming by later?" You asked, the last you wanted was to cause drama. "No she's following a lead on a story for the front page. She says she's sorry and she'll catch up next time." He said walking past with bags of groceries. "Oh, well let me help you." You said motioning at the bags in his hands. "I've got it, its pretty heavy." "I swear I honestly thought you'd be bringing a pizza." you chuckled. "Where's your table?" "Table?" You asked head tilted to the side. "Where you eat, the dining table?" he asked sitting the groceries on your counter. "Haha, you have a table for guests. I never have anyone over, so I just sit in front of the tv." you said pointing at your couch. He rolled his eyes at you and huffed. "Oh come on don't look at me crazy, I warned you that I was anti." "That's no excuse." he mumbled as he opened your refrigerator. "Y/n, you don't have any food in here." He fussed. "I do, its in the freezer and the pantry." you defended. "Two chimichangas, a pint of ice cream, Nutella, animal crackers, soda, and ramen. That's not food." He fussed even harder. "Okay dude chill, I'm a working grown college student. I don't eat here much anyway I eat at work, and Nutella is sustainable to my everyday existence." You said yanking the hazelnut spread away before he threw it away. He shook his head as he put the food away. "How long has it been since you've had a hot home cooked meal?" "Last week at your mom's." you shrugged. "I'm glad I brought real food to cook." he fussed on. "Clark, we could've just ordered pizza." you said starting to feel a bit bad for not adulting enough. "We could've, but I wanted to cook for you." He turned and looked at you pleading. "Please tell me you have pots and pans." "God Clark I'm hopeless not an idiot." You joked laughing obnoxiously making him roll his eyes at you. You showed him where everything was and he started cooking. You offered to help, be wanted to cook for you. You sat up the snacks an pulled up Netflix so you could choose a movie. He made his way over to you with a glass of wine. You took a sip and dramatically fell to the ground, pretending to die by poisoned wine. He got down on the floor with you and you looked at the height difference of his head by your feet and your head at the middle of his thighs and started laughing making him laugh like you'd never heard. After you both calmed down you laid there staring at the ceiling like there were stars hovering. "You really do have an amazing voice." Clark said cutting the peaceful silence. You couldn't help but smile. "Thanks....friend." You said nudging him in his thigh with your elbow. You both stayed silent until you gasped making him almost jump out of his skin. "What?" he said worried. "Can I sing at you and Lois' wedding?" You asked catching him off guard. "Oh come on, you love her, I can see it, " You said sitting up and smiling down at him. "and you both look so beautiful together." You stood tall and put your hands on your hips in "Superman" fashion. "Since I'm your friend I give her the golden stamp of, put a ring on it!" You said holding out your thumb. "Okay, I'm picking gonna pick the movie." You said marching to the couch. "That's not fair, I'm cooking I should get to pick the movie." He standing to check on his food. "We could've ordered pizza." You rebutted. "I'm your guest." he shot back with a shit eating grin. "Shit! Fine, you get to pick the movie." "Well I'll pick it after we eat." "Aww what? The tv's right there." You pointed. He looked over his glasses at you. "I don't even have a table." you argued. "You've got an argument for everything don't you?" He said chuckling. "You've got a coffee table, we'll make it work. Do you have a candle?" He said looking around before looking at you. You were there with your hands on your hips, looking at him like-'you know damn well.' He shook his head at your for the millionth time making you giggle a bit. He set the table and poured you another glass of wine. "You know this stuff gets better the more you

drink it." You said gulping the glass down and holding it out for more. "Mm-hmm." He agreed taking a sip of his own while pouring you more. You took a bite of you food, you immediately stood and clapped. "You were right, this is way better than pizza, although pizza is still good, this is amazing. "So what genre do you like most?" He asked. "Horror, I don't know why I watch it though, I always spook myself afterwards." "Okay so no horror." "No, wait please? I won't get scared tonight I promise. I mean unless you want to watch cartoons?" "We'll watch something scary." "Yaaaaay!!!!" you cheered and went to reach for the remote to your tv. "Ah, after we finish dinner and clean up." "Deal!" You said a bit excited. Once dinner was done and you'd both cleaned, even though you told him you'd do all the cleaning, he still helped. Afterwards you both sat and watched a scary movie that had you stress eating and jumping every two seconds. After that movie ended, Clark suggested another movie to help you not feel so spooked. You'd lost count of how many glasses of wine you'd had and you were feeling tipsy and tired. "Hey friend?" You hummed. "Hm?" "I fuckin hate to admit this, but I'm drunk. I'm glad we're friends. You better be glad too." you fussed at him. "I am glad," he laughed, "I really am." He said staring at you. "Good, cause you're the only person I can tolerate. Oh, and Lois....oh and that your mom, I really like your mom....oh and that cute guy from class." you giggled making Clark roll his eyes in disgust. "Y/n please." "What? He's cute, he's an idiot, that doesn't change that he's cute." You said looking at your phone. Your eyes grew big as you saw the time. "Dude its past midnight. Don't you need get home and rest for lecture?" He stared at you for a moment and you could tell he didn't want to go home, but you both knew he had to. "Yeah I'm sure I could use some rest." He said getting up to leave. You tried to get him to take the rest of the food he'd bought with him, but he refused. "Well thanks for dinner's meals and be safe. Do you need me to walk you out?" "Absolutely not, how about I see you off to bed?" "I look five to you? Don't even answer that." You sassed. He laughed and gave you a long hug, telling you how proud of you he was for using your voice and for letting him be your friend. You squirmed out of his arms pretending it was burning you. He ruffled your fro' and you gave him a playful nudge out the door. That night as you laid in bed trying to fall asleep, you kept thinking about Clark and no matter how hard you tried to shake it you couldn't help but fawn over him and how close you both had gotten so fast. 'Girl puh-lease, he's got Lois, she's beautiful and thin. He's happy with her and there's no way he'd even bat an eye at you like that. Don't even get it twisted.' you scolded yourself internally. You couldn't allow yourself to catch feelings for him that way because you knew you'd only end up with hurt feelings. You also didn't want to break up a happy relationship. 'How'd he know I needed groceries though?' you thought to yourself, 'Maybe just a hunch.' you dismissed. Soon with your mind going in 50 different directions, you were tired enough to fall asleep. "Goodnight little bird." Clark said as he watched you finally drift off to sleep. He wondered what thoughts plagued your brain that kept you awake. He hoped you'd thought of him. After making sure every inch of you apartment was safe inside and out he felt satisfied enough to go home and get a bit of rest. 'No harm in making sure she's safe' he thought as he finally took off. 'I'll always make sure she's safe.'

[write-a-bad-romance]

Two Hares Running Side by Side [Final]

Part I & Part II

Characters: Jean d’Arc, Napoleon Bonaparte, Sebastian, Comte de Saint-Germain, minor characters adapted from historical figures

Pairings: Napoleon x MC, Napoleon x Jean, Sebastian x Saint-Germain (main)

Words: 2803

Warning: Some sexual content (MxM)

Leon was soon kept busy with work. Although it didn't keep him from trying to enter the infirmary after twilight.

But he was discouraged by the suspicious looks the head nurse threw him, and Leon finally resigned to loitering in the courtyards of the infirmary.

It was a full moon outside. Leon stared at his own shadow and thought it had never looked so gaunt and pathetic.

Even the chirp of cricket failed to distract him from meandering thoughts.

The thought of killing and being killed was no stranger to seasoned officers like Leon and Sebastian. Overcoming regret and fear was natural to them. And so was the assurance that they'd always see each other after the gunshots ceased.

But, they were both human, in the end. Sebastian was made of fragile bones and flesh, and Leon wasn't free from the emotions that threatened to engulf him.

Leon sat back and let the breeze sweep through his hair. The sky was starless, a pitch-black void looming over the earth.

The grass crunched underneath the boots of an approaching figure.

"Sergeant-Major," Leon greeted. "Here on a visit? It's already late."

It didn't matter if it was d'Arc. Just like back then, all he needed was another's presence. An anchor, though he loathed marking d'Arc as such.

At least it made him less guilty than the alternative.

Leon scooted over the stone bench to give d'Arc some space. As Leon's sight adjusted better, he could see bandages crisscrossing on the right side of d'Arc's face.

"I didn't know you were injured," Leon cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't check on you immediately—"

"Don't be," d'Arc replied with a hoarse voice. "You were preoccupied with the adjutant, after all."

"How did you know?" Was d'Arc observing him as well?

"I heard it from d'Alencon, who heard it from the nurses in Gilles' ward," he explained. "Some of them... fancied him, apparently. I understand why they'd fawn over such a gentleman, but still."

D'Arc coughed. He's a dying man, d'Arc failed to say.

"I will be praying for the Second Adjutant," d'Arc breathed. "As I've been praying for Gilles, I mean de Rais."

Another gust of wind billowed, scattering dead leaves on a stone walkway not too far away.

"How is de Rais?" Leon asked, if only for the sake of politeness. "I understand how you feel, but don't forget to mind your own condition, at least for your own sake."

Or my sake. Because I'm worried about Sebastian and now won't stop worrying about everything else. Leon thought to himself.

D'Arc slowly stretched his long legs and sighed.

"They needed to remove an arm. And there were some complications during the extraction of some bullet shells."

Leon wondered if nothing could shake the man. Even his voice was calm as he described de Rais' condition. Leon couldn't expect less from the stoic man.

He gazed at d'Arc's profile.

What did it take to be the perfect soldier that d'Arc was? How does one retain such a mask, even after leaving the front lines? 

Underneath all that invisible armor, was there a man as secretly vulnerable as Leon?

Dark eyes mirrored bright emerald eyes.

"Second Lieutenant," d'Arc called softly. "Would you like some time to yourself?"

Yes, please. Words resonated in Leon's head, or No, don't. This is only a momentary lapse, you see? We won't speak of this ever again, and you would forget I cried all over you.

Did he want to cry?

Leon, unknowingly, had lunged for d'Arc's static wrist. He was so thin and easy to yank forward. 

Into his embrace

But it was foolish. D'Arc wasn't Sebastian. He'd only push him away if Leon insisted that the other hug him. That he wanted another warm body to ease him into containing the grief, the feeling of uselessness that was crawling from his stomach and clawing at his throat.

A cold hand rested on top of his own.

"If you want to cry," d'Arc whispered. "By all means, cry to your heart's content."

Leon loosened his grip on d'Arc's sleeve.

"Don't force yourself to keep a straight face. No need to pretend," D'Arc's murmur was distant. "Not while we're alone."

Your secret is safe with me, always.

"You're too strong for your own good," D'Arc murmured, even as Leon slotted his face into the crook of his neck. "Even when you're at your weakest, you're still a worthy officer. You always are."

A tender hand found its way to the back of Leon's head.

"No, Monsieur Bonaparte," d'Arc rumbled. "You're only human."

Leon pulled his waist closer.

"Therefore," another arm circled below Leon's shoulders. "Think of nothing, and let yourself go."

The dark fabric of d'Arc's coat masked tear tracks left behind by Leon. And like their meeting in the café, tonight, too, will just be another memory.

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"Win this war for me, Bonaparte." Sebastian clasped Leon's hands before they carried him home. "We'll meet again in Paris when this is all over."

Leon promised to write to him often. He wasn't sure about the doctor; Saint-Germain was quiet when he informed Leon of Sebastian's potential discharge.

"At least, back home, he won't have to worry about losing his life," The doctor had murmured with a thin smile.

Leon found d'Arc outside the hospital not much later, and he was holding several stalks of lilies to his chest.

"He was finally freed from this pain this morning," d'Arc stuttered. "Will you accompany me?"

Both men stepped out into the stale air of morning side by side.

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The following nights brought forth desires within Leon he’d never expected.

Long before their parting, Leon would dream of a soft mouth trailing kisses down his chest before finally enveloping his member. 

Hazel eyes would gaze at him with adoration, with love. And his fingers would tangle between imaginary light brown locks as she swallows.

Such dreams were no more, as the form beneath him shifts into something else. Soft curves turned into muscles and hard planes no different than his.

He'd dream of a broad chest on his back, supporting him as lean, nimble hands (sometimes gloved) wrung him dry. He'd seize the sturdy neck to claim thin lips as he hungered for air.

And sometimes, he'd be the one taken on silk sheets, his dark, steely eyes coming to life as he rutted into Leon, hard and fast.

Leon quietly cried Jehanne's name as he finished.

Then, the next morning, he'd wake up to soaked trousers, embarrassed, before he reached down to start all over again.

He didn't mention it in his letters to Sebastian.

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The months turned to years, and the years turned into a full decade. Another two, and Leon was almost a general.

And so was d'Arc, who, by some good fortune, nearly matched him in rank.

People changed too. Leon's teenage sweetheart was now following her husband to concerts in Vienna, a proud mother of two. 

Meanwhile, Sebastian and the good doctor had parted ways. He went on to Firenze with an up-and-coming painter (as Sebastian begrudgingly wrote in his letters). Sebastian remained content in Paris to continue studying History, his long-life pursuit before the draft.

Like her, Sebastian settled and soon grew a family. 

Meanwhile, Leon remained faithful to the Grande Armée, politely declining marriage offers and claiming he'd sworn his heart for the service of the motherland.

It wasn't so. Leon knew it deep in his heart.

The prolonged war never took away d'Arc from his side. Even as duty beckoned them from opposite sides of the country.

But there was always time to rendezvous during the holidays. Leon loved being at home among his siblings and mother, but he had also learned to cherish the few precious moments he shared with the colonel.

And it was on this chilly January evening where they sat by a hearth in their current base. Leon had learned not to offer the other wine to avoid repeating that one night almost a dozen seasons ago.

Leon chuckled. It seemed only yesterday that d'Arc was moaning about his brother and sister-in-law. Now, it was a secret they both shared in the open. 

Reminding him about the event was a joy to Leon. The colonel would cough and look away, while his ivory skin would be tinted a delicate pink.

"Your hard work will soon be rewarded, d'Arc." Leon sipped his drink. "Soon, they're going to promote your rank to general."

His companion silently pondered Leon's word as a hand covered his eyepatch. Even with a black cloth obscuring half his face, d'Arc was still as stunning as the day he rode into camp.

"I think," he finally spoke. "It's time for me to return home."

Leon jolted and nearly dropped his wine glass. Thankfully, d'Arc didn't notice, and Leon encouraged himself to ask:

"Are you sure about this?" Leon tried to mask the trembling in his voice. "There's still time to think. You don't want to regret your decision later."

Can't I convince you to stay?  

But the rare gleam in d'Arc's orb was resolute.

"I'm certain," he answered. "I've been away from my family for too long."

Napoleon nodded in silence. He grasped the velvet of his coat until his knuckles turned white.

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This time, it was Sebastian who sat across him in a homely Parisian café. It wasn't too far away from the university where Sebastian studied (and now taught). 

Leon had invited him out to talk, and without commenting on his sullen face, Sebastian passed him a black, palm-sized notebook.

There were names and addresses, as well as a piece of paper sticking between the pages.

Leon's hands trembled as he laid the damn thing on the table.

"But, Sebastian, this is—" He stammered. "How did you find this?"

"They kept me around for a while after they fitted my prosthetic leg," Sebastian tapped on his left knee. "Got some names and all sorts of blackmail material. That, right there, could have gotten our friend killed if I hadn't collected all those conscript letters."

Sebastian reached to pour Leon's cup more coffee as the latter flipped through the notebook.

"Unbelievable how the war made our bureaucracy so lenient," he commented, "Then again, the army has been benefitting of these loopholes,"

"Hmmm," Sebastian stirred his cup without purpose. "I don't think that's the right question to ponder at this very moment."

"What do you mean?"  Leon stared at Sebastian, his thumb involuntarily brushing the page beside which he found the paper.

"Go and see D'Arc, now that you've got the address," his gaze challenged Leon. "Wouldn't you like to see for yourself?"

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Cold was the morning she rode her father's horse from the stables. The frigid air of Domremy followed her to the training camp, to the battlefield, to the cities. It stayed with her as she sat at the loom, in a lonely spot by the window.

Jeanne silently caressed the cloth she'd abandoned before donning her father's gear. Her sister had finished it for her, and all that's left was to adorn it with gold needlework.

Embroidery had been one of her stronger suits, but now her calloused fingers were struggling to reacquaint herself with the needle's flow. It frustrated her immensely how things that were once familiar to her now felt foreign.

Like the dress she had exchanged for her decorated colonel's uniform.

But shedding her uniform was easy. Returning to her old, long-retired 'self' wasn’t. Jeanne couldn't abandon the way she used to walk at camp, her stern way of talking from when she was still barking commands, and the way she loomed imposingly over nervous neighbors.

Her armor had become one with her skin. 

Her family, surprisingly, was welcoming as she entered the threshold in her uniform. In the kitchen sat her father, whom she had never spoken a sentence to even through her letters.

And then he embraced her tightly, before weakly chiding her for riding to her supposed death. Then came her beloved Pierre, with his lovely children and comely wife.

Her sister noted how handsome she looked, even after she slipped into a newly bought linen gown. Her old smocks no longer fit her sinewy frame, and her new garb made Jeanne feel wrong looking at her own reflection.

These things took time to settle, as her first months in the military had taught her.

And then the shrill voice of Jeanne's sister pierced through the silence. She was tempted to rise and come out to scold her but refrained when she heard a male voice alongside Catherine's.

Jeanne recognized his voice, and her fingers curled tightly against the cloth in her lap.

It didn't take long before the footsteps reached her, and she kept herself from turning away to the window.

Still, a part of her urged Jeanne to stand and salute.

"At ease," the voice commanded. "I'm not here to arrest you."

Ah yes, she almost forgot. It was an offense that she'd done, wasn't it? The thought seeped into her dreams as she slept from inn to inn. But it disappeared the night she returned to bed, exhausted after such a long masquerade.

So, Jeanne looked at her hands, no longer looking like a woman's. She could hear Leon approaching, sensed him even as he dragged a seat to sit by her side.

Jeanne could no longer let the silence drape over them.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I fooled you. Have lied to you all these years...All for keeping my father and brother away from the war, if possible—"

But her general just burst laughing, alleviating and worsening her nerves at the same time.

"Sorry," he managed in between laughs. "I didn't expect it to be your natural voice."

Jeanne scowled, and for the first time, she looked at his face. Just as tired, but still very much the handsome captain who trained her years ago.

"Then again," Leon's laugh abated, and he was now looking at her properly for the first time. "You don't change much, do you?"

Jeanne hated how his eyes seemed to drill into her. She never felt this way when they were together in the army.

"I suppose not," she muttered. "I can't quite return to the girl who snuck out of the village on a mere whim."

"On a whim?"

"I had no confidence that I could survive the war," Jeanne confessed. "Let alone maintain the charade for nearly a decade. It was only by God's grace that I came along thus far."

Leon hummed.

"But you did it anyhow," he countered. "I don't think I've ever seen a braver soldier than you. You got more than you bargained for, and you breezed through it like it was nothing."

No.

There was the hollow socket where her right eye should have been and Gilles's bones, now resting in his family's mausoleum.

The medals and achievements were no compensation for the comrades she lost, for the times her courage faltered. And neither did they take away the emptiness that now settled in her heart.

Then Leon suddenly came, hopefully with answers to the questions remaining in Jeanne's mind every night before she finally dozed.

Napoleon watched as Jeanne gazed out the window. Beyond it was vast empty soil, ready to be tilled by the returning men.

They ask Daughter who's in her heart.

They ask Daughter who's in her mind.

But her mind was clean as a slate. 'Jean' was now resting, and the long slumbering 'Jeanne' was awake, taking his place. But she was the same Jehanne who wrestled with Pierre when they were little and eventually took up arms when he couldn't replace their father.

She chuckled. Perhaps for the first time in decades.

"What's so funny?" Leon asked. Oh right, he was still here.

"Ah, it's nothing. Forgive me," Jeanne turned to look back at Leon. "And you, Monsieur? You're blushing."

Jeanne only said that to get back at him and catch him off guard. But her cheeks, too, heated at the sight of him reddening. Bantering felt less...complicated when they had been brother-in-arms.

Some things did change, after all.

Leon cleared his throat. "Ah, zut." he cursed. "Sorry. This isn't going as I expected."

Jeanne smiled. So she wasn't treading into new territory alone.

"Will you accompany me, General?" She slowly moved from her seat. "We can stroll through the village as we talk."

"You don't have to call me General, uh—" he responded uneasily. "Mademoiselle d'Arc?"

"It's Jehanne," her one dark eye glinted. "Please call me Jehanne." 

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Damn, I didn’t expect to take this long to finish. Hhhh @batteryrose this is absolute pain.

[ask-de-writer]

IDOL TIMES (1 part), a Classical Fantasy

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Classical Fantasy

IDOL TIMES

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

1988 words

written 2003

copyright 2013

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan activity, cosplay, stories, music, plays or skits or anything else is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

“The thieves of Istar are a bunch of lowlife cowards,” declared Rumol, as he snagged a beer from a passing server’s tray. The server noticed the theft, so he tossed a copper fluket onto the tray.

“That’s the kind of talk that gets folk from Kelin beat to a pulp in Istar,” replied Durson mildly from the next bench. “We’re as brave as any thieves that you will find.” He reached over and took a swig from Rumol’s beer. “Now, suppose that you clear up that claim that you made.”

“Simplicity itself,” retorted Rumol, retrieving his beer. “Look about you. You see thieves on hard times. The whole country is in a depression. Nothing to steal that’s worth the theft, you say. Nonsense! The temple of the Chained One stands ripe for the plucking! It’s a whole orchard of treasures and you are starving! I rest my case.”

“You tell us nothing new. Where does the cowardice come from?”

“Why,” said Rumol indignantly, “if you know about a prize like that, and you don’t take it, what other reason can there be?”

“You might try prudence. We are not as stupid as you think us. The Chained One’s temple is guarded day and night by vigilant priests with pike and spear. The treasures cannot be had - bribery has been tried and failed.”

“Perhaps you have not noticed that the temple is only locked, not guarded, on the night of the full moon. The priests retreat to tightly locked quarters. There is a large round hole in the nave roof. It is the perfect time to make a small expedition, using simple skills, for great reward.”

“You are out of what passes for your mind! The Chained One is unchained on that night! Other thieves have tried what you suggest. None has returned. The Chained One is always in a different position after the full moon.”

“It will be safe,” scornfully stated Rumol. “See this?” He held up a chip of stone, smooth on one side. “It came from the Chained One̓s reverend rear, this afternoon. Common stone, very well worked, it is true, but stone nonetheless. If folk disappeared, they must have left a priest hidden inside the temple. We need only take a crossbow and pick him off through the hole in the roof.”

“None of us will help you,” replied Durson. “You still haven’t explained how the Chained One moves.”

“Preserve me from fools!” exclaimed Rumol. “The figure is probably jointed. The priests sneak back through a tunnel and rearrange it.”

“And the live pony that they leave for a sacrifice?”

“You just heard me say that they have a tunnel. They lead it out and sell it, or save it to use again.”

“Well, you have a glib answer for everything. We have lived here all of our lives. We will not risk it.”

“Then you confirm my first statement - you are cowards. I will see to the treasures myself. Don’t expect any share from me,” declared Rumol. “The local guild can do without my dues if I can’t get help.”

Rumol stood, a bit unsteadily, and strode out of the tavern. A few blocks down the street, on the way to his lodgings, he ran into some “friends”. Guild enforcers. One took his arms from behind, while the other faced him. “Heard some talk about a little rat not payin’ his dues,” he said through his Guild mask. “This may help you to reconsider.” He hauled back his arm for a mighty blow to the stomach.

Rumol erupted. He let the man who was holding his arms support him while he lashed out with both feet. As he connected, he straightened his back and smashed backwards with his head. Both men went down, taking Rumol with them. The fall broke the grip of the man holding him; he got up quickly and, leaving them on the ground, ran to his room.

He paused only long enough to gather his few possessions and go out again, without, of course, paying the landlord. “I’ll avoid the guild’s enforcers by camping in the jungle outside the city for the next few days, until the full moon,” decided Rumol.

Two days of shooing serpents out of his sleeping roll and swatting bugs made him wonder if any job was worth this.

The night of the full moon found Rumol, dressed in black, alongside the Chained One’s temple. Sunset and moonrise were nearly the same time and sun was just gone. He had to hurry. He had attended the ceremonial Unchaining only two hours ago. What he had seen had confirmed most of his plans.

Checking his equipment, he made sure that he had his small crossbow, a grapnel, rope, jimmy and a variety of bags for packing loot quietly away. Swinging the grapnel, Rumol heaved it at the top of the wall.

If there were any gods (Rumol had his doubts) they were with him. The hook caught on the coping at the first cast. He was up the rope like a serpent up a vine. Pulling the rope up after him made him reasonably safe from the city watch. The moon began to rise in a nimbus of orange glow at the horizon as he crept in a leisurely way across the roof to the large round hole. Spaced about it were plinths, each supporting a representation of a major moon phase.

Testing these for security, Rumol looped his rope about one. He tied it by wrapping the rope twice about the shank of the grapnel and letting the rope fall between the hooks. Simple, secure, and to be unfastened in an instant, if need be.

With owl’s eyes Rumol searched the temple for hidden priests. Seeing none, he let down the rope, with the bags tied to it as a decoy. Still nothing. Taking no chances, he cocked his crossbow and carried it in the crook of his left arm, as he lowered himself to the floor. The pony whikkered hopefully.

Rumol strode over to where the pony was tied, for his one minor last-minute change in plan. He stroked the pony’s nose and gave it a carrot. That attended to, he set about his work.

All of the altar-ware had been put away in stout cabinets. A few minutes’ work with his jimmy laid the cabinets open to his gaze. There, before his eyes, was the wealth that those fools were afraid to come for. So far, the job had been absurdly simple. Carefully packing each gold or silver vessel into its own smaller sack, he then put them all into a large bag. He left the candlesticks. They were brass.

His next target was the vestry where the jeweled robes, miters, censors, and other priestly gear were kept. The several services that he had attended told him which door to attack. It had only a small spring lock which broke at once under his educated assault. The cabinets where the priestly goods were kept fared no better. Soon, all were looted and their contents resided in Rumol’s bags.

As he emerged into the nave, he saw that the moonlight was partway up the idol. Its two lower eyes glittered green. Emeralds of that size would never happen, but they might be peridots or beryl. Any faceted stones that large would be worth a king’s ransom.

Never one to leave a job half done, Rumol began to climb the idol. Placing feet on huge haunch, thence to paunch, forearm and then to shoulder, he finally straddled the mighty muzzle. The Moonlight clearly showed the two lower eyes to be set in a cement that matched the stone perfectly. It was modeled to resemble eyelids. In a few moments the moonlight would reach the third eye, too. Rumol set to work on the lower right eye.

Just then, the moonlight came to the third eye, and the muzzle tilted as the great head shifted. The eyes blinked. A deep soft voice rumbled, “Please get that thing out of my eye.”

Hanging on for his life, Rumol squeeked in fright, “Let me down! I didn’t know that you were alive! I’ll just get my things and leave you in peace.”

“You do that,” the deep voice said. Great paws set him gently on the floor.

Quickly, he gathered his loot and began to climb the rope. The huge paws seized him gently but irresistibly, and separated him from the rope. “You said that you would take your things and go. Those things are mine.”

Rumol almost squeaked in fright, “Don’t eat me! Please!”

“Eat you?” the idol answered in surprise, “I would never do that! Where ever did you get that idea?”

“Everybody says that you eat a pony - and any thieves - every moon.” Rumol shook his head, “I didn’t believe them.”

“Well, the pony is my dinner, that’s true,” the idol held him closer to its eyes which were now thoroughly lively, “but I don’t often get a guest to talk to. The priests never stay anymore. They know that their spells keep me from escaping this room as long as my body is stone, which is not likely to change anytime soon.” The idol paused in thought and a devious expression came and went from its massive visage.

“You went to a great deal of trouble and danger to get these things, didn’t you?”

Enfolded in the mighty paws of the idol, Rumol contented himself with a nod of agreement.

The Idol set him down in front of the altar. It carefully emptied out all of Rumol’s booty. “I see that you have even taken the lunar divination die of silver and ivory. If you will stay and talk, I will give you a chance to win some or all of the of these things. Let us play for what you have taken. Each of us will roll in turn. The one whose phase is closest to full wins. Waxing phase is higher than waning. The blank new moon always loses. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

The game progressed swiftly. Sometimes the advantage was with Rumol, sometimes with the idol. Eventually, chance alloted all the loot to the idol. Rumol stood dejected.

He brightened when the idol proposed, “One more pass? All or nothing?”

“Certainly. You’re the best winner that I have ever known. Anyone can be a good loser. Graceful winning is the test.” Taking the die, Rumol threw a waxing gibbous moon. The idol promptly made its throw. A full moon came up. The idol took Rumol gently and said, “You lose. As you have nothing else to give, look into my third eye.” Rumol did as he was bidden; he really had no choice.

Rumol felt a great disorientation and confusion; there was the impression of something dark going up, near him. His right eye hurt. He felt hungry and felt a stiffening all over. There was an intense urge to get up on the altar. As the moonlight faded, he got stiffer and the urge to get onto the altar got stronger, until he could not resist it any longer. Gazing longingly at the pony, he got up on the altar. With the last of the moonlight, consciousness waned on the thought that he was going to be very hungry by the next full moon.

The next morning the priests were surprised at what they found. A young acolyte exclaimed, “This is terrible! The Chained One has refused the pony! Look, there he stands. I pray you, lord priest, what does it mean?”

“Use your eyes, young man,” the priest replied sonorously. “See you not the bags, the jimmy, the broken cabinets? Another fool has tried to rob us.

“Now, while we priests replace the chains, you acolytes clean up the mess. Be sure that things are put away properly and then run get a carpenter to fix these cabinets.”

-THE END-

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Classical Fantasy

This completes Idol Times. If you enjoyed what you just read, please go to the Master Story Index for links to all of the stories that I have posted on Tumblr.

[tiaragqueen]

Could you do a Tsukiyama (tokyo ghoul) obsessing over a fem human who is a bookworm, please?

Under Control

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Tsukiyama Shuu x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,7k

✂ Trigger Warnings: Mention of depression, killing, cannibalization, objectification, obsessive and possessive behavior, slight malnutrition, manipulation, yandere theme.

[Edited]

***

I’ve used every drop of what little knowledge I have and Google translate regarding other languages, so I hope it doesn’t end up weird.Oh, and this is set before :re.

If you like mywriting, please support me on ko-fi!

“The one who loves the least, controls the relationship.” - Robert Anthony

You should’ve known that something was wrong the moment a flamboyant man with vibrant clothes approached you in that book café. And you should’ve known that something was wrong the moment your closed ones started to die one by one.

But it was too late to regret it now, wasn’t it? What happened had happened. There was no need to think about it, especially if the past only brought pain to your already depressed self. You should move on. You should get out of your head more often. You should start seeking help. You should allow yourself happiness. You should allow him to make you happy.

At least, that was what he said.

The truth is, it wasn’t that easy. It would never be that easy to forget that you were the one who had dragged them into your little drama. Them; your family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances. Heck, even your boss! Sure, it wasn’t your fault, to begin with. You didn’t even know that Tsukiyama was a ghoul in the first place.

Had you were a bit more observant, perhaps you would’ve noticed the hints. The way he occasionally licked his lips whenever you spoke about something, the way he studied your face and all the expressions it displayed, the way he checked you out (it wasn’t really discreet, but you’d learned to ignore it), the way he often complimented you whenever you wore clothes that accentuated your figure perfectly, and the way he tended to sniff your neck as a form of ‘greeting’. You’d assumed he was being attentive and considerate, yet it wasn’t all that far from the truth.

Attentive because you were his prey, and considerate because he wanted to make you feel more at ease around him.

But somewhere along the way, he began to change. He became more gentleman-like and… possessive. For example: how he wrapped an arm around your waist whenever you walked together, how he glared at anyone who talked or looked at you for too long, how he bought you some expensive presents regardless of the day and its importance, how he often invited you to his mansion and vice versa, and how he relished in reading books or do some particular gestures to you. Actions that seemed too sweet to be directed towards mere friends, and things that would spark a sense of intimacy between you.

You were a bit caught off guard, to say the least. The furthest things he’d ever done were light flirting and occasional yet lingering touches. But it was a rather nice surprise, you had to admit. Therefore, you’d decided to not to overthink it too much. Again, you’d assumed he was being a good friend. This was probably how he usually showed affection towards his close ones. And besides, you were quite flattered by the amount of attention he’d put on you. So, there was nothing to be suspicious of, right?

Right. Due to how often you both spent time with each other, he might have felt more comfortable now. Tsukiyama had always been extra when it came to you, anyway.

Just like how extra he was when he introduced you to his father.

The last note echoed in the spacious room as Tsukiyama withdrew his fingers from the ivory keyboards. His room. There were paintings of you hung on the wall, each depicting different expression and different attires. You didn’t know when he’d taken up a lesson for painting, but apparently, he’d worked hard to perfect every single frame.

That was what he’d told you on that fateful day, where you’d stupidly visited him because he was ‘sick’. You weren’t aware that ghouls had impressive healing ability, and sickness was probably impossible for them to get in the first place.

“How was it, Mi Amor?” he asked gently, affectionately, lovingly. He caressed your hair, and you sensed love – sincere love – pouring out from his fingertips.

How could a ghoul, one that had killed and eaten many people with another excuse besides hunger, could love someone so earnestly? It was illogical. It was preposterous. It was shocking. It was downright terrifying.

“I’ve composed this song since our first encounter,” he said, droopy eyes admiring the gloss of your crown. His servants have done a good job at taking care of your appearance; from the top of your head to the tip of your feet. All of them were clean, fragrant, and resplendent.

Just like what he had always desired.

“I know this is nothing but I hope you can feel my love, Ma cherié.”

Guilt couldn’t even describe what you were feeling right now; this stomach-churning feeling that told you that you would never loved him the way he wanted you to. The way he loved you. Because he was your captor – your kidnapper – and to fall in love with him would be a sin. A crime so unforgivable no matter how many times you begged for forgiveness.

You weren’t sick like him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him, either.

Because he was your friend. You might have even considered him as your best friend; your confidant. He was your go-to person whenever you wanted to vent out, sharing crazy theories that had taken up almost all the spaces in your brain, asking nonsensical things, have a philosophical debate, or just someone to accompany you.

Because you were lonely. Nearly everyone that you’d befriended was superficial, or at least didn’t pay much attention to the details. You didn’t have anyone who you could truly connect with. You didn’t have anyone willing to wake up at ungodly hours and listen to your rambling. You didn’t have anyone who could see behind your quiet yet friendly facadé.

Because you yearned for a friend. And he… He had been perfect. He was everything you ever wanted; everything you ever wished for in a friend. Tsukiyama was, although eccentric, the only friend you could connect with. He was sophisticated, he understood your feelings, he entertained your strange ideas, and he always kept his promises. Never once did he let you down, and never once did he interrupt you when you talked about something.

Because you were hopeless. But it was all just a facadé, wasn’t it? In the end, you’d never truly meant anything to him aside from being a pet. A treasure. A possession he could never let go. A doll that, despite her master’s declaration of love, could only wait until the day he grows bored and throw you away. Which, in your case, throwing you into the chasm of his stomach.

Were you destined to end like this? Did God hate you or something? Because if so, then this was the cruelest punishment you’d ever gotten. It almost felt… unfair.

You hated this, though. You hated how you could do nothing but sit obediently on his lap. You hated how he dressed you up in fancy dresses and accessories as though you were a fucking mannequin. You hated how he always spoon-fed you. You hated that you had to spend the majority of your time waiting for him to come; to take you out of this hell disguised as a beautiful room decorated with your favorite flowers. You hated that the garden was the only place where you could breathe the fresh air. You hated that his servant – Kanae, was it? – seemed to hate you. You hated how his father immediately took a liking on you. You hated how he had suggested Tsukiyama to just marry you already, and you hated how Tsukiyama had the guts to accept it eagerly. He even promised to do so as soon as you were a bit more familiar with your new life.

You hated this; your predicament. Everything. And most of all, you hated your life. You didn’t think it was possible to loathe something abstract before. But now, you knew.

Pushing your glasses, you nodded. This was probably the least expensive thing that you had, and the only thing that you owned from your old life. A reminder that you used to be an ordinary woman with an ordinary house and ordinary life before you became a lovely lady with a lovely mansion and lovely life. “It was superb. Thank you, Tsukiyama-san.”

The warm smile immediately disappeared as a cold frown settled on his face. “What did I tell you about formality, hm?” he asked, warning laced his pernicious words.

You stiffened on his lap, mentally berating yourself over a little slip that could’ve been easily avoided. “A-apologize, Shuu.” you stammered stoically, albeit with a fearful hint. “I wasn’t… in my right mind just now. Forgive me.”

“There!” Tsukiyama beamed, his mood changed so quickly you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or not. “Isn’t it much better? After all, we’re lovers. It’ll be odd to call each other with such stiff nicknames.” He cocked his head and regarded you with those gleaming purple eyes.

You recognized that look. You fully comprehended what it meant. He was searching for another mistake; the slightest error that he could use against you. Internal panic aroused bile to leave your mouth – to empty your stomach from its nutrients because it wasn’t as if he would give you another, right? Tsukiyama didn’t want you to weigh more than necessary. Your current weight was enough. Not too skinny yet not too fat, either.

It was a perfect body.

“Don’t you think so, Tesoro?”

“Right, of course.” You sucked in a deep breath and nodded dutifully. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“It’s alright, Miele. Mistakes happen.” You looked away, trying to ignore the irony of those words. He must have been in a good mood today if he didn’t start punishing you. Thank goodness. “Just promise not to repeat it, okay? I’d hate to ‘lecture’ you again, Chérie.”

Tears stung your pupils as you dipped your head. You didn’t want him to see you were crying. No, not again. It was enough to display weakness in the past. You couldn’t afford to be weak. You had to be strong. You needed to be strong.

For him or yourself? You weren’t sure. You refused to think about it, either. As long as you were still alive, although not necessarily well, you would be fine.

“Yes, I promise.”

At least, this bittersweet affection was better than be a part of himself. Literally.

Translations

Mi amor (Spanish): My love

Ma chérie (French): My darling

Tesoro (Italian): Treasure

Miele (Italian): Honey

Chérie (French): Sweetheart

[ducktracy]

134. shanghaied shipmates (1936)

release date: june 20th, 1936

series: looney tunes

director: jack king

starring: joe dougherty (porky), billy bletcher (captain, hippo)

perhaps inspired by MGM’s mutiny on the bounty in 1935, as well as coupled with jack king’s love of adventure cartoons, shanghaied shipmates (as the title suggests) details the harsh conditions porky and his shipmates endure thanks to a dictatorial captain.

on occasion, i’ve likened jack king to frank tashlin—both directors with a keen eye for cinematography. while tashlin is inarguably the better director, more confident and ambitious than king, king certainly thought in cinematographic terms, as the opening scene suggests. a mist overlay shrouds a seaside town as we hone in on a bar. our favorite pig is doing a dance front and center while a gang of rowdy drunkards cheer him on. a hippo plays tickles the ivory on dueling pianos, and a goat tugs ferociously on a rope connected to some heavy object offscreen—a giant mug of beer. all is well.

inside the bar, that is. the mist overlay compliments the foreboding atmosphere as we get a shot of a docked ship and a lone captain pacing around on deck. suddenly, a tiny little bespectacled dog (one of the supporting members of the i haven’t got a hat gang) hilariously ambles on deck, even climbing over the captain and hopping back down onto the floor, declaring “the crew’s deserted the blinkin’ ship!” the captain is far from pleased, snarling in his assistant’s (christened mr. stew) the only suitable comeback would be to shanghai the crew.

the two pace through the streets of town and break into the bar. there’s a rather tashlin-esque camera angle as the captain analyzes one cowardly drunk in particular. it comes off as random and slightly misplaced, but certainly an interesting angle that’s worthy of a kudos for experimentation. king experimented with his cinematography, but not much else. with a steely glare, the captain pummels his victim and sends him whirling back onto the ship. the process continues, and one by one victims whirl back into their place, the bar growing emptier by the second.

finally, all of the shipmates are back on deck... except one. porky attempts to hide, diving into the inside of a piano, but his tail sticking out of the doors tells on himself immediately. the captain drags him out, grinning condescendingly as porky insists “you can’t do this to me!” of course he can! the captain, relatively unbothered, shoos porky along, giving a bellowing laugh and smacking porky in the butt to get him to go.

highly amusing setup as porky now scrubs the deck of the ship with the most contemptuous expression, glaring absolute daggers at the captain who surveys his every movement. porky’s disdain gets to him, and in an act of rebellion he slips the soap from his grip and slides it all the way to where the captain is marching. and, of course, the captain slips, none too pleased. porky acknowledges what he’s done, naive mischief now replaced with visible anxiety as he braces for punishment. said punishment: a bar of soap shoved down his piggy gullet. once more, porky insists “you can’t do this to me!”, but a hiccup spawning a multitude of bubbles destroys any sort of authority or credibility.

porky goes back to scrubbing when one of his shipmates checks to see what all the fuss is about. a hiccup later and porky attempts to explain himself, hindered by not only a stutter but an entire bar of soap lodged in his throat, eventually gagging “agh-agh-aghh, soap!” thankfully, his buddy is a good sport. the shipmate pulls porky’s tail and slingshots it back, propelling the soap out of his mouth and back onto the deck... where it ends up perfectly in position in front of the lumbering captain, who falls victim to the bar of soap once more. a hippo sticks his head out from inside the ship just to guffaw at the captain—he gets his as the captain placed him in stocks, forcing a cat to lick his feet while the captain bellows in laughter.

after some more mismanagement of the shipmates, we now go to lunch as a dog blares the lunch fanfare through a tuba. a stampede of starving shipmates trample him in seconds, the dog weakly blaring out a few more notes after the fact. a gag very similar in nature to boom boom, another king entry.

certainly nothing can go wrong at lunch, right? an expectant porky observes as the captain stalls with his heaping bowl of fried chicken. porky is so deprived of food that he can hardly contain his unadulterated glee, slapping his face and bouncing up and down and running his hands together. at first i found the scene to be much more disconcerting than anything, but now that i rewatch it, it’s pretty funny in a very unconventional and off-putting manner. funnier than what was intended to be.

paul smith animates the shipmates receiving their hearty meals: nothing but a plain old bone, the captain stripping every single piece of chicken of its contents. the shipmates are not at all happy. a hippo folds his arms in rebellion, a dog resorts to scarfing down his own hat as a means of sustenance, another chopping his bone to pieces and rolling his eyes all around, and even porky tearfully pouring salt on his bone and pitifully licking it off. the scene is unfortunately hindered by the restrained simplicity of smith’s animation, and thusly doesn’t reach its potential in terms of humor. once more, wannabe rebel porky reaches out for a fully packed chicken leg, receiving a slap of the wrist and a bone down the throat in shock instead.

a week crawls on, and the shipmates are more stir crazy than ever. they bang their mugs against the dining hall table, all chanting “we want food! we want food!” in unison. finally fed up, porky crawls onto the table and signals for the rest of the gang to huddle in as he whispers a plan. just then, mr. smee mr. stew pokes his head into the dining hall and is surprisingly smart enough to put two and two together. the animation of him going to alert the captain, scrambling all around the deck and twirling around a pole, is very amusing and funny. “mutiny, captain! mutiny!”

the rowdy shipmates continue to demand for their food as the captain barges into the dining hall, armed with duel pistols. a ballsy porky marches up to the captain and asserts “we demand food!” but, of course, his diminutive size is nothing for the giant captain, who merely blows him over and pins him against the wall with a deep breath. with that, porky orders “c’mon, men! get ‘im!” and thus sparks mutiny on the bounty as all of the men tackle the captain, gunshots firing in defense.

porky himself sets his sights on mr. stew. certainly one of the funniest moments in a king cartoon as porky pins mr. stew down, mr. stew holding up a hand to pause for a second. he signals to his glasses, lifting them up as if to say “would you hit a guy with glasses?” even better, mild-mannered porky gingerly places them aside, and then wastes no time as he decks mr. stew in the face repeatedly. great timing and great unspoken dialogue.

now the fight rages on on the deck of the ship, some shipmates even flying overboard and jumping ship. porky leads his crusade to victory as they all charge towards the captain. in retaliation, the captain whips a menacing cannon right in front of them, threatening to knock them all over like vengeful bowling pins.

however, his plan backfires (no pun intended): he shoots, and the force of the shot is so tremendous that the captain is scooped onto the cannon as it rolls backwards and propels itself into the air. he lands in the comfort of a bunch of crates. crates labeled as explosives. one explosion later, and the shipmates are singing merrily, lazily drifting across the ocean current on a raft, porky in the lead and armed with a whip. pan over to the captain pulling the entire caravan of crusaders, receiving a few hearty whips from porky as we iris out.

i didn’t think much of this cartoon when i first saw it, but i certainly appreciate it more now. not phenomenal by any means, and still hides in the shadow of tex and friz. the gags don’t always hit, some scenes suffering from a lack of confidence and conviction. however, with that said, this was an ambitious cartoon and certainly adventurous. though it didn’t always work out in his favor, king worked ambitiously and experimented with camera angles and surreal ideas, but his execution was where his cartoons were bogged down. good ideas that struggled to be realized. i give him credit for attempting experimenting so much! i’ve certainly gained respect for him (though his cartoons unfortunately don’t really rival the others during this time period.) this was a high energy cartoon that had its moments, such as mr. stew’s run cycles, porky contemptuously scrubbing the ship deck, and the fight scene between porky and mr. stew. i think this is one of king’s more interesting cartoons and would fare well as a single watch, but that’s probably about it.

link!

[okashiras]

Notes: Supplementary reading and a sequel of sorts. Enjoy.

KPOP AU PART 1

ao3 link

30 March 2014

If you had told me 4 years ago that Sasuke and Sakura would never officially confirm that they’re dating but would instead, out of nowhere, announce their engagement, I would have laughed my fucking ass off.

Anyway, I’m briefly back from my hiatus. Cheers to all of us! We did it. :’) (Or rather, they did it?)

tags: #CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!??!!, #I CAN’T BELIEVE ITT, #text post

cherry-shadow asked: you are a fandom high priestess!! ur blog is like my sasuke x sakura bible. i missed ur blog, thank u for bringing it back. bless you!!! have a nice day!! :-*

You’re very kind! Thank you!

tags: #cherry-shadow, #ask

sumuwu asked: sandy here, i’m not even that big on kage or kunoichi but i’m so glad for them and for you guys!! i support their mutual hotness. i’m sure they’ll have beautiful and talented babies in the future!!

Thank you so much for your support for our favorite couple!

PS: I love SuMu sibs, too. I just haven’t posted about them (because I’m always on a SS high). Looking forward to their comeback.

tags: #sumuwu, #ask

Anonymous asked: OH MY GOD YOU’RE BACK!!!!!1 will ur inbox be open for info/translation/general questions?? Asking for a friend. Lol ok bye!!! I love u ;A;

Haha, yes! For now. I just needed an outlet for all this excess energy and excitement. Thanks for still having me! I’ll try to reply as much as I can. But no promises that I can answer them all. ;;

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

Anonymous asked: now that they’re confirmed to have been dating for years (!!!!), i couldn’t help but want to review their interactions. do u recall moments in shows and such where it looks like their members are teasing them??

The members of Kage and Kunoichi have been kind of friends in varying capacities since before they even debuted so they’d always greet and bow to each other during shows and events. Nothing really special there. Unless we reach. Which, as you know, is exactly what this blog is for.

Since Anon specifically mentioned members (plural), I will only address moments where multiple members do the teasing.

**

(2007) Kiba and Naruto are rowdy hype men while the three members are more reserved, except when Sai does weird dances at select performances. Which is why when Kunoichi did their first performance ever at the KChart Music Awards, we can see Sasuke in this fancam (link) looking like he’s reprimanding Kiba, Naruto, and Sai because it distracts him from watching the girls (or just one girl?) perform.

**

(2010) This Kunoichi fancam from Konoha Music Awards in November (link) shows the girls standing while Rock Lee performs on stage. On Sakura’s side, you can see members of a boy group who keep moving and shuffling around. Another fancam (link) revealed that it was actually Kage members trying to switch places with each other.

So the member order was as follows: Tenten, Hinata, Ino, Sakura, Kiba, Sai, Sasuke, Naruto, Neji. When Kiba realized who he was next to, he walked away and tried to get in between Sasuke and Naruto. The two finally budged after a while, but Kiba was still unsatisfied because Sai was still between Sasuke and Sakura. So he went back and whispered something to Sai who promptly moved away and followed Kiba to stand between Naruto and Sasuke. Sasuke is now beside Sakura. Mission accomplished, guys.

**

(2011) In this Kunoichi fancam reaction to Kage’s stage on the KChart Music Awards (link), everyone was standing up. Unfortunately, the members were situated at the back, and Sakura, wearing combat boots, was at a height disadvantage. But the members came to her rescue when it was Sasuke’s turn in the spotlight. Ino who was the tallest member of the night thanks to her sky-high platforms, and Tenten the actual tallest member were whispering to Sakura, and looked like they were reporting and giving her a blow-by-blow account of what was happening on stage.

**

(2013) In this fancam of Kage’s reaction (link) to Sakura accepting the Best Female Solo for Courage at the Golden Leaf Awards, we see Naruto and Kiba who are smirking as they turn to a decidedly blank-faced Sasuke. Neji turns to their direction too, looking mildly exasperated.

**

tags: #masterpost, #Anonymous, #ask, #all of naruto’s teasing warrants a post of its own tbh

Anonymous asked: “#all of naruto’s teasing warrants a post of its own tbh” DUDE??!! please make that post a reality!! please!!!! i’ll give u my first born!! :)))

Haha! Okay, since there’s a bunch of you asking in my inbox: yes, the Naruto masterpost is underway. It’s gonna take a while but please look out for it if not by the end of this week then next week. Kinda swamped with work at the moment.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

Anonymous asked: love you’re blog! :) Just wondering, who’s you’re bias in Kage??

Thanks! My bias is Neji because he’s the most fabulous.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

Anonymous asked: hi!! do u have a link to the interview where they talk abt that line from shadows?? thanks

There were different articles with varying quotes from that interview (during SAGE album promotion, the one held in Konoha Mountain Villa back in March 2012) so I’m translating by combining the info from these articles: (x,x)

Q: Naruto, was the line “You are the sunshine in spring” from “Shadows” written for someone in particular?

Naruto: Uh, that’s— It’s not my place to say, sorry. Sasuke?

Sasuke: No comment.

Q: Is it perhaps about Hinata? She has the ‘sun’ character in her name.

Naruto: She does?

Sasuke: I wrote that line.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

SS movie date in Wave Country (2012)

I just needed to update this post in light of new information.

In the Kage Konoha Mountain Villa interview 2012 (the one I linked in the previous post), Sasuke was recorded saying: “I like classic action movies. The most recent one I saw was In a Grove (藪の中 Yabu no Naka).”

Two months prior, Sakura uploaded a video of the instrumental ‘Prologue’ originally from the soundtrack of a film Rokurota. Both In a Grove and Rokurota are films by the director Makino Chikao which led people to speculate if the connection ends there or if there’s more. So I did a little investigating.

Sakura posted the video on the evening of 31 January 2012. During that time, Sakura was in Wave Country where she was a guest performer for Kage’s show in Sector D District. I searched the cinemas around that area and found one that at the time was having a director Makino Chikao retrospective. (You can check out their site here: link) I wasn’t able to see the list of films exhibited to confirm but I have no doubts that both In a Grove and Rokurota were screened there, especially since both films are critically-acclaimed and universally loved. And it’s likely that Sakura and Sasuke went to these screenings together.

Furthermore, you know what’s in front of Kaiza Theatre? An Owson grocery mart, aka the same one where those pictures of Sasuke and Sakura were taken the same year (link). See the side by side comparison (link) and note the same shelves and wall paint. And of course, those photos led to Danzo’s damage control denial of the dating rumors, and then Sasuke’s infamous “[KGE] is just a workplace” statement. Y’all know the rest.

tags: #text post

Anonymous: any opinions on danzo? lol

None. Hope he enjoys retirement.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

yrzra asked: Hi! What’s your favorite Sakura era/hairstyle?

All Sakura is good Sakura to me! But if I have to pick one, I’d say when she came out with chin-length hair on her solo debut. It signified a new era, a new sound, and I was honestly blown away when I first saw it. That’s why it holds a special place in my heart.

tags: #yrzra, #ask, #little known fact: i prefer sakura’s solo songs, #but i still love kunoichi very much, #ino can step on my neck anytime

Anonymous asked: Wasn’t there an analysis of Heaven and Earth mv about Sakura’s romantic relationships? Or do you know the post I’m referring to?

Hm, sorry, I don’t remember that.

tags: #Anonymous, ask, #i personally don’t think it’s about her relationships at all?, #just about striving for self-improvement?, #which is a common theme in her lyrics

Masterpost of notable moments of Naruto being the SS fan club president

Note: As promised, here it is. If you have anything else to add, please don’t hesitate to reply/message me.

Let me preface this with a little background on Uzumaki Naruto. Naruto and Sasuke are the closest to each other in Kage not only because they are the two youngest members of the group, but also because they started training in KGE in the same year. The other trainee who started the same year they did was none other than Haruno Sakura. The three of them were said to be friendly even after they debuted in their respective groups. And it’s because of this that I believe they are privy to each other’s lives and relationships, and would, like any regular friends, every now and then tease the crap out of each other.

**

(2007) [VIDEO STAR] - Naruto talks about Kage members + colors 20070728

Naruto’s first solo guesting in Video Star variety talk show. There was a part where he was asked to describe the members of Kage via color association. (@ 2:11)

Izumu K: So black for Sai-kun, red for Kiba-kun, white for Neji-kun—

Naruto U: Yeah— Oh, no, not white. Ivory. Neji is very specific about this, you see.

Kotetsu H: Right, right.

Izumu K: What about Sasuke-kun?

Naruto U: Sasuke is... pink. Yeah. Pink. Pretty and memorable color. Lots of energy. (laughs)

Kotetsu H: Pink? For Uchiha Sasuke-kun? Really? Isn’t that a bit— (laughs)

Naruto U: Oh, you know what, scratch that. He’s gonna send me angry texts if he sees this. Okay, I’ll change it. Let’s see...

Kotetsu H: (laughs) Why would he?

Naruto U: Got it! Green. Nice, refreshing green.

Izumu K: Konoha green.

Naruto U: Yeah, yeah. Sure, green. (turns to the camera) I changed it, Sasuke! If you’re watching this, don’t be mad at me. (laughs)

Kotetsu H: Sasuke-kun, please take it easy on Naruto-kun.

Izumu K: Okay, what about you?

Naruto U: Orange, of course!

Pink is too obviously referring to Sakura/her signature hair color which is especially obvious since Kunoichi just debuted around the time of this interview, so Naruto changed it to green to prevent Sasuke’s wrath. But you know what else is green? Sakura’s eye color. Thanks, Naruto! Your subtlety is unparalleled.

**

(2007) KAGE reaction to KUNOICHI performance - MINDBLOWER + BLOOM @ Konoha Music Awards

Sasuke is a famously stoic cold city guy at award shows, especially when sat beside Naruto who dances exuberantly to every other performance. That is, until Kunoichi debuted. Sasuke would begin showing signs of life whenever Kunoichi performed, like foot tapping, some head bobbing here and there, and some stray finger flicking actions during the Mindblower chorus.

Anyway, in this particular performance, Naruto elbow nudges Sasuke on his side (pretty hardly, if Sasuke’s annoyed expression is anything to go by) just as Sakura’s verse is about to come on. (@ 1:32)

**

(2008)  [FULL/ENG SUB] [HD] 080805 Idols Weekly EP 56 - KAGE Part 1

KAGE’s appearance in Idols Weekly where Naruto said he would join Kunoichi because his group kept betraying him, and then he said he would drag Sasuke along with him. He didn’t get to elaborate on why exactly because he was cut off by Sasuke’s glare.

Okay, this is kind of a reach but they were all just previously nailing the Bloom choreography, and then Naruto was dragging Sasuke specifically to join Kunoichi. Why just Sasuke? All of Kage are on friendly terms with Kunoichi members. That’s why I’m inclined to believe Naruto was teasing him because Sasuke has eyes on someone in Kunoichi. And we all know who.

**

(2009) [Music Bank K-Chart] 2nd Week of January - SN, Sound5

Sakura had the opportunity to host Music Bank for January. At the time, Sasuke and Naruto were promoting their subunit single “The Valley.” On the one episode that month where they performed, during the K-Chart announcement part, you can see Naruto subtly (not really) pushing Sasuke to his right. When the camera switches to wide shot, it appears that Sakura was on standby from hosting duties a few feet away over at Sasuke’s right side the whole time. (@9:42)

**

(2010) Sasuke was in Snow Country on a personal schedule and posted a rare picture of himself. Well, kind of. It was him looking like a hypebeast cryptid wearing multiple layers of winter clothes and scarves, against the backdrop of flower trees in Land of Spring (Snow Country’s capital). Captioned: ”wish you were here.” (My god he is so basic sometimes, I can’t.)

Anyway, on the said post, Naruto left a comment of around 15 cherry blossom emojis.

Cherry blossom = Sakura. King of subtlety…

Sasuke deletes this post five minutes later (which would have been suspect if he wasn’t such a serial post deleter). But luckily, we still have a screenshot which includes Naruto’s comment.

[IMAGE: @sasuke_deleted]

(Also note that a month prior to the announcement of their engagement, Sasuke and Sakura were reported to have had a rendezvous in Snow country. That place must be significant to them and Naruto being in their inner circle probably knows why this early on.)

**

(2010) [20102310] Naruto’s KLIVE Chat

Naruto was promoting his solo mini album and did a KLive broadcast where he called some Kage members. During his phone call with Sasuke, out of nowhere, Naruto mentioned Sakura. (@ 40:07)

N: Anyway, Sasuke, aren’t you preparing for your final show this week?

S: Mm.

N: All Kage members are supporting you. Not me, though. But the rest of them do, apparently.

S: Make yourself useful and promote my show.

N: I’ll do you one better. I’ll call Kunoichi and ask them to come to your concert.

S: What?

N: Yeah, I’ll personally pick Sakura-chan up and make sure she’s there.

S: [unintelligible]

N: Sasuke, what?

S: I said you’re an idiot.

**

(2011) Sakura was reported to have fainted from exhaustion after the last set at Kunoichi’s concert late October 2011. (This was the third time it had happened [that we know of!!!] and it honestly says a lot about what little regard KGE had for their artists.)

Meanwhile, Kage was doing their second to the last fanmeet scheduled in Earth Country. But on that night, Sasuke and Naruto took a red-eye from Iwa to Konoha. There are no pictures, only some K-netizens reports of Sasuke and Naruto entering Konoha General at around 8 am. (Some eyewitness accounts said that Sasuke appeared to be bringing a pillow.) At 10 am the same day, Naruto was spotted in his orange BMW convertible hanging around the KGE building, while Sasuke was nowhere in sight.

It can be surmised that Naruto, being a good friend, accompanied Sasuke so he can visit Sakura. But there’s more.

Konoha General to KGE building is a one-hour drive, but seeing how Naruto got his car and a new set of clothes, he most likely headed to his apartment first, which would add more or less 30 minutes to his journey. If he arrived at 8 am in Konoha General, but was already in KGE building by 10, that would mean he only stayed in the hospital for about 15 to 30 minutes at most.

I imagine what happened was: Naruto accompanied Sasuke from Iwa to Konoha, probably said hi to Sakura for a bit (if she was already conscious by then), and then promptly left them alone to have their moment. :’)

**

(2011) 30 October. Sasuke’s K-D Magazine photoshoot previews were released. Sakura liked one of the posts from the K-D account. Later, she posted a cute video selfie with heart eyes filter with ねぇ聞こえますか？(Can You Hear Me?) an old love song, playing in the background. Her timeline was probably filled with Sasuke’s pictures that she just had to post some kind of lovey-dovey reaction to it. A few hours later, Naruto commented with a (very knowing) smirking face emoji.

[IMAGE: @narukage_likes]

**

(2013) 8 August. Naruto posted a picture of two mochi (pink and blue) from Amaguriama, with the caption, “Look how sweet my friends are.” He tagged Sasuke in the blue one. Who else could the pink one be?

[IMAGE: @narukage]

**

That’s all I know for now. Naruto hasn’t updated his account with anything SS-related since the engagement was announced, which is really odd for him. (Maybe he’s still busy partying because his OTP is canon?) When he posts something, I’ll update this accordingly.

tags: #masterpost, #text post

bl00m asked: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT MASTERPOST!! My life is significantly better because of it! But just wondering, since Sakura and Ino refer to themselves as best friends, do we have an Ino-teasing-Sakura-about-Sasuke moment, too?

Seems to me like Ino is much too professional to tease so I only found a couple. Hope that’s okay.

**

(2007) K-D Kunoichi Feature (magazine issue published around the time after Kunoichi’s debut):

Q: Out of the four of you, Ino and Sakura were the first ones to sign under KG and become trainees. What were your first impressions of each other? Has it changed now?

Sakura: I thought Ino was full of confidence and charisma and that hasn’t changed until now.

Ino: Sakura used to be really shy and quiet but clearly she has bloomed since then.

Sakura: Having someone my own age really helped, I think. We pushed each other to work and get better. It was kind of a friendly rivalry.

Ino: Yeah, rivalry, not just in terms of work, though. I used to have a crush on another trainee at that time, and then one day, Sakura announced that she—

Sakura: Oh my god! Can we not?

They didn’t outright say that it was Sasuke whom Sakura and Ino were crushing on, but it’s kind of general knowledge that Sasuke was quite popular with the KGE trainees not only because he was the younger brother of Akatsuki’s Uchiha Itachi but because he is good-looking and talented, so it’s not a stretch to assume Ino was talking about Sasuke and was teasing Sakura about it.

**

(2009) [VIDEO STAR] - Kunoichi (FULL EP) (@14:23):

Izumu:  Any music you’re currently listening to?

Tenten: Believe it or not, I’ve been listening to a lot of trot music recently, like Might Guy, and stuff. I like the joy in it and I would like to also bring that kind of energy on stage someday.

Sakura: Creation , the album by Tsunade. I’m interested in albums that have some sort of narrative or a theme that makes everything cohesive, as opposed to trying to make hits after hits and then just compiling them all in the end. She’s certainly not the first to do something like it, but I thought it was groundbreaking for a pop artist, so…

Ino: We like Kage, too, don’t we, Sakura?

Tenten: (laughs)

Sakura: I— Well, everyone likes Kage for sure.

Kotetsu: Right, you did collaborate with them on a song in their album last year.

Sakura: Yeah.

Ino: (quietly) Is that what the kids call it these days?

Tenten: (laughs)

That innuendo, though.

tags: #bl00m, #ask

Anonymous asked: it’s funny reading your posts now and realizing how much it all makes sense like how did no one else (but us) seE THIS COMING??? we’ve endured being called DELUSIONAL for years!!!! i feel so vindicated now so i’m literally never gonna shut up about this LMAO

RIGHT?! I’m sure I’m not the only one who has remained quiet and kept to myself when I’m with other fans because I’m in the minority for shipping Sasuke and Sakura while most of them shipped the boys with each other. I don’t really mind it, but, you know, when it’s real, IT’S REAL.

And it feels so good to be right.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

Anonymous asked: how’s life for a grown ass adult still projecting on other people’s relationships like ur 13 lmfao

How’s life for someone who has to type with only 2 brain cells?

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

kageyah asked: gawd, what a rude anon that was. don’t let those lowlifes bother you. i’ve been enjoying your recent posts a lot and it’s so fun to see you back again on my dashboard. i missed you sm. ^_^

Kags!! Thank you! I missed you, too! Nah, don’t worry. Sasuke and Sakura are getting married so I’m unfazed and unbothered by virtually anything. Haha!

tags: #kageyah, #ask

lildonut: i love your blog!!!! that masterpost gave me life!!! i was wondering if you have any fic recs?? Thanks <3

Thank you! I don’t really read fics, sorry. I have a very little scope of imagination so reality is enough to keep me interested. But maybe someone here can help you? Anyone?

edit: Thanks, @darliang!!

These, our bodies, possessed by light by RikkudoS — “‘Tell me we’ll never get used to it.’ Sasuke and Sakura through the years. Canon.”

Cherry Bombs by xXxFullMoonxXx — “Double dates are easy enough. That is, until you end up falling for the wrong person. High School AU.”

Of Demos and First Kisses by sugimura — "5 times Sasuke and Sakura wrote songs together and the 1 time they didn’t. Canon."

Under the Same Sky by msshkshmt — “Uchiha Sasuke expects to die in battle. But seeing this pink-haired girl cry for him (again and again), makes him wish that wasn’t the case. Ninjas AU.”

tags: #lildonut, #ask, #fic recs

Anonymous asked: Do you have any idea as to when and how exactly Sasuke and Sakura started dating? Other than the 5 years that Sasuke mentioned in his fan page message? Thanks! Love your blog!

Thanks!

By the way, I love how Sasuke is known to be very private with his personal life and relationships but would, intentionally or not, obliquely reveal details like how they’ve been dating for 5 years already.

Anyway. Well, I can’t really say anything with certainty but if I were to extrapolate and make an *educated guess*, I’d say they probably started dating officially mid to late 2009. As far as I can recall, that’s also when dating gossips about them started popping up. Also the fact that they started wearing matching white gold bands late ‘09-early ‘10 (I’ll make a separate post about this later) just solidified to me that they really did start dating in 2009.

Prior to my projected time, their collaborations have been frequent, starting with Sakura helping to write a song for Kage, and then both of them being featured on each other’s solo projects. And even before that, it’s kind of general knowledge that they’ve been fairly close as trainees (not to mention, Sakura has allegedly been crushing on him before), so they already had that foundation. There’s that mutual respect for each other and each other’s talents that, over the course of their collaborations, probably grew into something more.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

Anonymous: re: how sasuke and sakura started dating, i would also like to add that since they are the most hardworking out of the members of their respective groups, they are probably the trainees who used to work overtime the most and got close because of it, probably helped and looked out for each other too. sakura used to say dancing wasn’t her strongest suit while it came naturally for sasuke so maybe he helped her with that. conversely, since sakura is reportedly an A+ student, she must’ve helped him with studies as well. they probs already have a mutual understanding but couldn’t be official cuz of the dating ban. ^_^

Ah, I’m actually not entirely sure if the dating ban is real, but what you’ve said is possible. Can’t say anything conclusively, though.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

Anonymous asked: wher do sassuke and saura have sex???

How tf would I know lol

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

List of alleged Sasuke x Sakura couple items

These are only the more important, more unique items. So don’t bother sending me pictures of them holding identical paper bags from Sannin. They aren’t the only idols who shop from that brand.

***

(2009-2010) White gold band

Sasuke is not that big on accessories. If we do see him fully accessorized, it’s because he is styled for promotional materials, and stage or music video looks. Otherwise, he doesn’t wear much accessories other than a standard watch, etc. That’s why it was so glaringly obvious when he started wearing a white gold band on his left pinky finger (note: pinky = pink = Sakura, lol!) in December 2009, which led fans to speculate if he is in a relationship. Everyone was suddenly on the lookout for a similar ring worn by idols and celebrities. Especially Sakura whom Sasuke was rumored to be dating that year.

Sakura accessorizes quite a bit but has never been seen wearing the said band. That is, until she had a fan meet in March of 2010. Sakura fansite First Love took HQ pictures of her in the event. In one of them, she leaned over while signing an autograph for a fan and consequently revealed the necklace she’s wearing inside her blouse, and behold, the white gold band hanging on it. It took quite a lot zooming in and adjusting the photograph which is why the legitimacy was contentious among fans, but you can see it for yourself here.

[IMAGE: White gold band]

[IMAGE: Sasuke Konoha airport pic white gold band]

[IMAGE: Sakura necklace zoom in]

***

(2011) Chair

Sakura posts a picture of her succulents by the window of her house, the chair from Sasuke’s Heavenly Hand music video is seen in the corner. It’s a one-of-a-kind modern chair by Konoha master carpenter Kanna, so it couldn’t have been a duplicate.

[IMAGE: MV screenshot]

[IMAGE: @sakurah]

***

(2012-2013) Ceramic vase

Sasuke posted a picture of a Hanasaki-style ceramic vase by Masho’s protégé ceramist, Kanyu, which was exhibited and auctioned at Leaf Gallery, and captioned it (now deleted) “Mine.”

[IMAGE: @sasuke_deleted]

The following year, Sakura posted a photo of her bed after a concert tour with the caption “Home Sweet Home.” On the bookshelf on the right side, the same vase is seen. Note the pure white color and cracks on the surface that resemble intertwining flowers.

[IMAGE: @sakurah]

Did he give it to her or was she able to procure an identical one? I’m inclined to believe in the former, but either way, cute.

***

(2013) Chambray shirt

Sakura was photographed at Konoha airport wearing a chambray shirt, which is similar to a shirt that Sasuke was wearing in the behind-the-scenes photo of his album back in 2009. The shirts have an identical tear at the left collar.

According to fashion fansite SakuraCloset, this shirt is from Sannin Men’s chambray shirt. This is how it originally looked on the runway. No tear.

[IMAGE: Sannin RTW F/W 2006]

So it’s either a huge coincidence that Sasuke and Sakura have identical tears on the same brand of shirt, or it’s just the same shirt that they share for some reason*.

*They were dating.

tags: #masterpost, #text post

Anonymous asked: you forgot the beanie that often sasuke wears at airports which was spotted worn by sakura.

You mean in the Road of Life webisode from last year? No, it’s the same color but they’re different. Sakura was wearing a fisherman beanie, while Sasuke usually wears a slouchy one.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

mindbl0wn: do you know what the strong 100 will be about? Love ur blog ^_^

Sorry, it took a while to answer this. According to these articles (x,x), it’s gonna be a heist film with an all-female cast. Sakura’s appearance will be brief (a cameo maybe?) but apparently she does her own stunts.

tags: #that’s my girl, #mindbl0wn, #ask

Anonymous asked: lol i still keep seeing antis tryna say sakura might be doing it for attention and sasuke is just pity marrying her or using her as a beard to cover up another relationship or sth man i can’t with them anymore

I really worry about people who spread stuff like this. Like, please give your faves the credit they deserve!

Sasuke “ I-take-relationships-very-seriously” Uchiha marrying someone for shits? They can’t even make him forego his IG feed aesthetic to promote his group/members’ stuff, let alone force him to marry someone out of pity or publicity or whatever.

And Sakura. Why would she marry for publicity? She’s already famous and influential on her own, and not to mention, rich from all the songwriting royalties among other things. She doesn’t need clout. Least of all from Sasuke or the Uchiha. Like 90% of the hate directed towards her come from ugly Sasuke/Hoekage stans and weirdos who have conglomerate boners. She need not subject herself to all that.

They are also, by the way, at the height of their respective careers. If they cared all that much about their image, wouldn’t they wait until they’re in their early 30s to marry like most idols? They could potentially be throwing away endorsement deals from brands who prefer celebrities who are single to appease the fans who feel like they have some sort of ownership towards idols.

And yet! And yet despite everything, they chose to make their relationship public in their own terms.

(Also, note the timing of their announcement. It’s a few months after Hatake Kakashi became the new CEO. It’s like the management up until then has been the main reason that has kept them from coming out with their relationship, which is why the ‘secrecy’ of it felt kinda half-hearted and they’ve been [knowingly or not] dropping hints.)

Clearly, they just didn’t care and they couldn’t wait to spend the rest of their lives married to each other. It’s not that deep. You don’t have to like it. But if you love them as you claim, then respect their decision and stop spreading rumors like that.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

WAIT WHAT

tags: #text post

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

tags: #IS THIS REAL, #AM I DREAMING, #GUYS!!!!!!!!!!, #text post

THEY REALL YDID IT OH MY GODD!!!!11 ;;;

tags: #text post

Un-Follow Me Now, This Is Gonna Be the Only Thing I Post About For The Next Week. Ive Wanted This For Years Fuck. What The Fuck.

tags: #text post

Anonymous: Lol theres still a few months before the wedding date so they might still cancel it and break up lmfao xD

I delayed answering this to avoid jinxing it but guess what, babe:

**

BREAKING: UCHIHA SASUKE AND HARUNO SAKURA OFFICIALLY GET MARRIED

July 17, 2014

Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura have made it official!

Yesterday, the two were reportedly spotted at the Konoha offices to file for their marriage registration. On July 17, the two officially got married in a private ceremony.

The couple initially announced their engagement last March, with the wedding that was supposed to be held November 5 later this year.

Representatives say that the newlywed couple “opted for a small and private wedding along with their loved ones, in favor of donating the expenses that was supposed to be for their ceremony to the pediatric ward of Konoha General Hospital.”

Uchiha Sasuke is best known as a member and the primary lyricist of boy group Kage under KG Entertainment. Haruno Sakura is known as a member of girl group Kunoichi under the same company. Both have gone on to have successful solo careers.

Congratulations to the happy couple!

**

source: knewsdaily

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

Sasuke and Sakura: We will get married on November 5 this year.

Also, Sasuke and Sakura: sothatwasafuckinglie.jpg

tags: #WHEN WILL THEY LET ME LIVE!!!!!, #text post

I’M SHAKINGG;;

tags: #REFRESHING EVERY 30 SECS FOR UPDATES, #text post

SAKURA IS SO BEAUTIFUL

tags: #THAT’S IT, #THAT’S THE POST, #text post

Attendees’ social media posts (so far)

Kakashi: posted a photo of the still empty venue, but everything is prepared already. The flower ceiling is especially striking. (There appears to be not more than 30 chairs for the guests. I guess it really is a small wedding.)

“I’m on time for once. #SasuSakuCouple #AmIDoingThisRight #lol”

[IMAGE: @kh_tactics]

Ino: posted picture of Sakura holding a bouquet of Baby’s Breath flowers, smiling contently.

“My baby girl is married! I’m so emotional right now and can’t even form a proper message. I’m proud to have seen you blossom right before my eyes, and I feel lucky to get to call you my best friend. I wish you all the happiness in the world. I love you!”

[IMAGE: @xxinoxx]

Sai: posted a video of Naruto and Kiba having a dance showdown at the reception.

“#lit”

[IMAGE: @sai_00]

Hinata: posted a picture of the flower arrangement at the table.

“Congrats”

[IMAGE: @hinata_hyuuga_official]

Kiba: posted a group selfie of the Kage boys being rowdy, Sasuke and Neji looking unimpressed in the back.

[IMAGE: @kibakage]

Tenten: posted a group selfie of Kunoichi being cute.

[IMAGE: @10ten]

Neji: posted a photoset of miscellaneous aesthetics of the wedding (floral ceiling, the food, the lights, details of Sakura’s veil), and a selfie.

“S/S 2014”

[IMAGE: @neji_]

Itachi : posted (1) a photoset of the groom’s and bride’s parents—first photo is a formal one, on the second one, they’re doing finger hearts.

“#familyphoto”

(2) a picture of the silhouettes of Sasuke and Sakura facing each other, seemingly in a happy conversation.

[IMAGE: @itachiuchiha]

tags: #no update from naruto yet, #king of being late, #masterpost, #text post

I know it’s a private affair and I respect that but...

But would it seriously be too much to ask for a proper picture of the newlyweds??

tags: #i love you itachi-nii but what the heck was that??, #do you need your eyes checked perhaps?, #or am i too pedestrian to appreciate the high art-ness of it, #probably that, #in any case: i need the pics PLEASE, #i’ve been a good person, #i deserve this, #text post

Anonymous: do think it’s possibel that sakura is pregnant that’s why they were so quick to marry. Pls reply

Highly unlikely. She would’ve been showing by now and looking at the photos we’ve seen, her stomach is very much flat. Moreover, she was just shooting an action movie where she does her own stunts. You think they’d allow a pregnant woman to do that?

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

Anonymous: YO DID YOU SEE SAKURA’S UPDATE JUST NOW?!?!??!!111

YES!!!! I’m translating it but I’m trying to wait if Sasuke posts something so I can translate that too and (rightfully) post them together.

tags: #Anonymous, #ask

SASUKE

He

tags: #text post

Sakura and Sasuke post-wedding social media updates

Sakura posted a pic of their hands with the rings, a bouquet of flowers visible on the side, with the caption:

“Today we got married.

We had deviated from our original plan because we wanted to do something meaningful and more like us. As a result, we have decided to just keep the ceremony quiet but, rest assured, full of love.

I’ve never felt so loved as I do at this moment and that’s in huge part because of all of you who have been congratulating us warmly, and have been so patient and understanding of our decisions every step of the way.

Please continue to look kindly upon us as husband and wife. Thank you.

- Sakura“

[IMAGE: @sakurah]

Sasuke, of course, never does what you expect so he didn’t post a message. Instead, he cleared out three rows of his feed with plain white tiles to have a single picture of Sakura looking beautiful in her wedding dress in the middle. The colored picture especially stands out in his generally grayscale feed.

Moreover, he is now following 1 account: @sakurah.

[IMAGE: @sasuke]

tags: #text post

Masterpost of notable moments of Naruto being the SS fan club president

Note: As promised, here it is. If you have anything else to add, please don’t hesitate to reply/message me.

Read More

EDIT: Naruto posted a photoset: (1) the newlyweds smiling arm in arm, Sasuke gazing warmly at Sakura, (2) same as the first but they’re looking at each other and smiling, (3) Naruto gets in the picture to pose with the two.

“Why I believe in love”

[IMAGE: @narukage]

Tags: #MY JOB HERE IS DONE, #update, #masterpost, #text post

END

[ourshyartcollection]

Leviathans Mark Chapter 1: Midnight on the Balcony

Table of Contents

Everyone in the world is born with a unique tattoo of their spirit animal, each wielding an ability unique to their mark; these can range from having a cheetahs speed to an eagle’s eyesight. But, there are those whos spirit marks are born from mythology and legend with abilities and powers ranging from the fantastical to the monstrous, they are known as Mythics, these individuals wield spirit animals that originate from mythology, urban legends, fairytales, and folklore; Mako Chevalier is one such Mythic, possessing the Mythic mark of the Leviathan, an ancient serpent god of oceans and chaos; for years he has kept his powers in check never losing control but something ominous bellows in the winds of fate as Mythics come out from hiding and cause untold disaster and mayhem; soon Mako finds himself recruited by the Piscerian Club, an ancient and secretive organization whose goals lie in capturing rogue Mythics and covering the existence of Mythics. Now Mako has to survive a secret and dangerous new world he has forcibly been slung into all while keeping his unstable powers in check, uncovering the motives of the Piscerian Club, as well as trying to unravel why Mythics emerge from hiding just to cause needless carnage and mayhem. In a story of rekindled friendships, broken love, and new beginnings, no one will come back the same.

Mako stood outside on his bedrooms' balcony, gazing silent and longingly at the oceans midnight waves, moonlight shimmering as the waves crashed onto the beaches sandy shores. A knock came from his door, "Son?" the soft and gentle voice of his mother called; Mako invited her in knowing that she'd enter regardless, "Sweetheart, staring at the sea again aren't we?" Makos mother was a rather calm and soft-spoken woman, her long strawberry colored hair flowing onto her shoulders like silk and water; her nightgown exposing the gold and white dove mark prominent on her right shoulder complimenting her ivory white skin and golden hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry Mom I couldn't sleep." Most nights Mako rarely had a moments peace in his dreams as it was always the same; sinking deep beneath a pitch black abyss, the choking smell of salt water and blood permeating his airless lungs; tonight was different, for this nightmare was one he was forced to attend, "I've just been thinking about tomorrow."

"Sweetheart, the lack of sleep isn't any better," she cradled her cheek against her palm, and playfully touching the silver fleur-de-lis pendant that hung at the end of Makos small braid. His mothers' hands were comforting and helped lower his worry, "Always thinking about tomorrow will never let you see today," Makos was always told this every time, "Is this because of the exam tomorrow? If so then-"

"Mom it's not," Mako stuttered trying to find the words, "It's not something that you can help me with," he pulled back from his mothers' hands and fell back onto the small futon he kept in his balcony, "I'm not normal." He let out a disgruntled sigh as he buried his face into his hands, "The exam's gonna test for everything," he then dramatically flailed his hands in the air, "I mean, for Gods sake, I rupture the water pipes of some cheap motel we stayed at because I got scared by a spider!" Mako sighed rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. Sputtering out a sigh he propped himself back up and stared at the starry midnight sky and contemplated his situation with his mother, "What if something happens during the exam?" His anxiety caused his powers to flow causing the places he touched form thin layers of frost and ice, "What if they take me away... what if they take you away?"

His mother took a seat next to him, she clutching Mako tightly trying to help him forget his worries him; she playfully ruffled her hand through Makos'hair, which was a mix of the dark rust brown of his father and the straight soft texture of his mother, "You are so much like your father," she jokingly sighed, "Always worrying on the what-if's of his life, it was a miracle he never ran into anything with is constant worry-warting," Mako and his mother couldn't help but laugh. "If he were still with us he'd tell you the same thing I've told you," she cradles Makos face in her hands again, "Mako," she smiled at him, "I'll never leave you, and when you finish the exam we'll visit grandma and grandpa in France again." She hugged Mako goodnight, "Goodnight, sweetheart,"  she said as she left his room.

"Goodnight mom," Mako was now alone in his cold moonlit bedroom, his mother was right, he did look fairly normal; his skin was a blend of the sunkissed pacific island tan of his late father had and the pale porcelain ivory of his mother, but Makos unnatural features rose becoming prevalent, as the eerie dim violet glow shined from his eyes in the dark. His eyes were serpent-like; pupils slit in the shimmering violet maelstrom of his iris, swirling and changing as if to mimic an oceans whirlpool; his teeth were nothing more than serrated shark-like fangs that looked more akin to a horrendous abyssal sea creature.

His mother's words did linger with him for a while, that he was, "Maybe mom... maybe," than anyone his mother has known, whether the words were true or not wavered within his thoughts, "but I'm still scared." Mako started to become lulled by the chaotic sounds of crashing waves on the beaches shores, resting on his bed he began to drift off to sleep, with nothing but moonlight and stars keeping him company.

~

Meanwhile, a yacht anchors itself far off the beachy shores of Makos home ideally wading within the oceans moonlit waves; two unknown figures lounged on the boat deck, their appearances shrouded under their clothing, "The kids' asleep but I gotta ask," one spoke looking away from Makos home and to his compatriot, his tall and intimidating figure standing close to six feet and dressed in an aged graying trenchcoat, his face covered by both scarf and his coats hood, his hair covering her eyes, twinge of doubt in his voice turned towards his compatriot sitting in the deck chair, "You sure pickin' the kids' a good idea Pheonix?"

Pheonix sat up from her chair, she stood five feet tall and was dressed in elegant clothes, all hand made,  from her stilettos and floor level dress to her shoulder-high gloves and wide-brimmed sun hat and veil. She leaned against the railing of the yachts' deck she sparked the cigarette in her hand; its embers dimly glowing in her hand barely illuminating her blaze colored eyes, "Ladon darling," she paused tapping the excess away from her cigarette, "I've only been wrong once in my life, and only that once," Pheonix breaths in one last puff of her cigarette before incinerating it along with her glove as she set her hand ablaze, "Never forget that Ladon."

Ladon, his voice growled with skepticism at her words, "Fine!" he huffed, "I'll trust your judgment on this," Ladon marched away reaching into his coat pocket and taking a swig from his flask, "I'll inform the club that he a candidate."

Pheonix snuffed out the fire from her hands and tossed her ruined gloves into the ocean, "No Ladon, I'll address the other members myself," Ladon turned to object but Pheonix's stern glare deterred him from uttering another word, " just go below deck for now," Ladon scoffed and walked away. Pheonix pulled out her phone and flipping through her numbers to find a certain agent of hers; finding the number she dialed and walked towards the middle of deck, "Ark its' me, I'm coming for a report, you available?" she paused listening for confirmation from her unknown associate, "Good, I'll be over soon," Pheonix set aside her phone on a nearby table and stood silently in the middle of the yacht's deck; sparks and embers began to swirl around her feet, chunks of cinders started to form as she was suddenly engulfed in a torrent of ferocious and swirling fire. The fire dissipated instantly along with Pheonix herself leaving nothing but a spiraled scorch mark on the ships' wooden floor and the distance caw of a bird flying high among the stars and full moon of the midnight sky.

______________________________________________________________

I hope you enjoy the first chapter, more will be one the way soon.

please like and reblog to show support, thank you

[go2harsha-blog]

Celebrating Woodstock - Part 1

With the 50th anniversary of the Woodstock festival round the corner, Harsha Prabhu looks back to visiting the US  for the 40th anniversary

A Fairy Tale of New York

Parrots for Peace, Ecofest, Central Park, NYC, Oct 2009. Pic: Hans Lovejoy

Blog 1 on the Rainbow Dreaming US tour, covering NYC and Ecofest.  Rainbow Dreaming is a photodocumentary on the alternative culture of the rainbow region of NSW, Australia. The curators were invited to set up the exhibit for the Woodstock 40th. See more at http://www.rainbowdreaming.org

Which Woodstock?

“Don’t even bother about coming to Woodstock for the festival in August,” said Nathan Koening, our host at the Woodstock Museum. “It’s mostly expensive hype. Come in October, when the weather is better and there will be more Woodstock-related events to celebrate the Woodstock legacy. And you can set up the Rainbow Dreaming exhibit.”

Woodstock Museum, Saugerties, NY, October 2009. Pic: Emi Iizuka

The Woodstock Museum were partners in setting up the historic Nimbin-Woodstock Connection in the mid-nineties, a rainbow bridge linking the alternative communities of Nimbin in north eastern New South Wales, Australia, with the whole hippie tradition of Woodstock. We had sealed the relationship by sending the Woodstock Museum an earlier exhibit from Nimbin, called Some Children of the Dream.

It’s now some fifteen years down the track. Walking down the main strip in Byron Bay I spy Hans Lovejoy sitting in a cafe, sipping on a latte. Hans, musician and journalist for the Byron Shire Echo, was in-between assignments.

“Fancy a trip to Woodstock?” I asked him.

“Which Woodstock?” he asked, undoubtedly knowing there were many: Woodstock, the town; the original Woodstock festival in 1969, which was held some 100 kms away; and the many, commemorative events down the years, held wherever the required permits could be obtained and the producers and sponsors lined up with the dollars.

“Not the festival,” I replied, “It’s a celebration of the Woodstock legacy.”

“Why not,” he said.

Lords of the Material Universe

The first signs were auspicious.

At Brisbane airport, waiting to catch the flight out to LA, we bumped into Elizabeth Thorpe and Debbie Lee. Elizabeth and her partner Ray, proprietors of Happy High Herbs, were the principal sponsors of Rainbow Dreaming and Lee, artist and designer, is an old connection from Nimbin. Elizabeth and Lee were headed for USA to open Happy High’s first US store, in Arizona. And Hans and myself were headed for New York, bringing with us the stories and pictures of life in the rainbow region.

From the plane, the New York nightscape glowed and flickered like some gigantic circuit board. “The lords of the material universe have nice real estate here”, said Hans. Towers of ivory, streets of gold. Would the lords be kind to us? Would they let me in, with my Indian passport?

At immigration, there was a blip: Had my passport ever been stolen? Why was it registered as Australian? The question in my head went something like: So this is what it feels to be at the mercy of dodgy databanks and the mood of the assessment officer. But it turned out ok. After a few questions, Officer Pena waived me through.

Did I have anything to declare, the customs man asked? Don’t touch my bag if you please, I have a haversack full of rainbow dreams, I mused to myself.

At the airport, the smiling face of Benny Zable, waiving a rainbow flag, greeted us. Benny, Nimbin’s ambassador to Woodstock, was the kingpin in the rainbow bridge to Woodstock and beyond. Benny had arranged for us to stay in Brooklyn, at the studio of Traci Mann, a New York tap dancer.

Disoriented by jet lag, Hans had left his laptop on the airport bus. That first night, with the El roaring past our window, we fell into a troubled sleep, woken by the clatter of the El and the cries of children at the daycare centre below.

Through a Glass

Our first pilgrimage in New York was to the Yippie Museum in Greenwich Village. The Village was the bohemian hangout par excellence in the sixties. It still has a funky, if gentrified, look. Jazz bars and restaurants dot the streets.

The Yippie Museum resembles the Nimbin Museum, with a stage for performances. One night, we caught some fine performance poetry. It’s the headquarters of New York’s hemp legalization campaign. They knew about Nimbin. They were also involved with a global linkup of cities for 2010.

1st Oct saw the launch of Mark Roselle’s book “Tree Spiker”. Mark Roselle is the founder of Rainforest Action Network. He’s also the man who infiltrated a Nevada test site. The day was also Benny’s birthday, Benny, an agent provocateur with his rainbow flags. The Yippie Museum was a happening place, true to its name of promoting green(sic) issues through direct action.

It took us a while to work out what ‘uptown’ and ‘downtown’ meant in the subway, but we had worked it out by the time we left New York!

Hans slipped out one night for a dose of jazz; the girls went on a harbour cruise; Benny was beavering away at the Ecofest office. My jet lag meant that I saw the city as if through a glass darkly. One image remains: a black, immaculately dressed saxplayer, doing “In a Sentimantl Mood” in the subway at 50th St.

Ecofest

Ecofest, Central Park, NYC, Oct 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

The Ecofest office, off Broadway, was a hive of activity, presided over by Nanci Callahan, queen bee and director/producer of New York’s signature ecological fair, now in it’s 21st year.

We walked to Central Park to check out the site for this year’s Ecofest, passing Strawberry Fields and ‘Imagine’, the mosaic tribute to John Lennon. On park benches huddled New York’s homeless, shrouded in grey, under the shadows of the tall towers ringing the park. The Dakota apartments where Lennon had been shot were across the street. “Yoko Ono pays for the maintenance of this section of the park and the homeless are permitted to sleep here,” Benny explained. I thought of our homeless in Byron, chased from bus shelters, their beach humpies a mark for rangers. In this instance, New York seemed to have a heart.

Sunday 4th Oct was a fine day. The Ecofest site began to fill up with vedors and exhibitors, including the latest hybrid cars from Toyota and Ford.

Rainbow Dreaming at Ecofest, Central Park, NYC, Oct 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

We had been assigned the outer wall of the conference tent to set up the Rainbow Dreaming exhibit. Space restrictions meant only half the exhibit could be accommodated. We punched holes into the exhibition panels and strung them out on twine like washing on a line. It worked! Sayaka Nakao, Rina Terasaki and Saya Minami, our Japanese friends from Byron Bay, who had flown in the previous day via Tokyo to help with the exhibition tour, assisted us in this improvisatory task. Ever enthusiastic, our petite helpers were worth their weight in gold. Hans and I would have struggled to manage the show on our own.

Over 25,000 visitors streamed through Ecofest that day and, as we were positioned at the entrance, many of these stopped by to check the exhibit. Among these was Nirmala, Gina Lakosta’s daughter, who was in New York to perform a burlesque show, under the stage name La Viola Vixen. Another was a couple from Goonengerry, amazed to stumble upon a slice of life from the rainbow region in the heart of New York.

Tap dancers, including the amazing Mabel Lee, Traci Manns’s former teacher, all of 80; soul singers; stiletto heeled models strutting eco fashions; Rick Ulfik from We the World, the global peace network; Parrots for Peace from the Amazon rainforest; ending with a sing along with the legendary Pete Seeger, 90 years old and still singing his peace and environmental anthems.

Jam session, Central Park, NYC, Oct 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

The sun shone down on Benny Zable’s rainbow flags; children fed ducks in the pond; whole families happily picnicked under the trees; frisbees flew in the air. Catching the last of the sunset, the tall towers seemed to shower us with riches and green fields became fields of gold.

The evening ended with drumming. Three drum circles – Cuban, Haitian and African – rang out in the Park. The moon was full and so were our hearts.

Postscript: Hans’ laptop, lost on our first night, was returned to him by the New York City Transport Authority on our last morning in New York, in a fairy tale ending to our stay in the Big Apple!

Van Gets Ripped, or The Long Sleep of Unreason

Blog 2 on the Rainbow Dreaming US tour, taking in New York’s 13th Harvest Festival & Freedom Rally, Hancock, NY; and Woodstock Museum, Saugerties, NY.

Ma & Pa Woodstock, NY Harvest Fest & Freedom Rally, Camp Minglewood, Hancock, October 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

New York Harvest Fest & Freedom Rally

Marijuana legalisation activists and their supporters on the East coast were to meet at Camp Minglewood in the Catskills, a couple of hours north of New York, for the Harvest Festival & Freedom Rally, on 9 Oct.

Rainbow Dreaming crew at New York Harvest Fest & Freedom Rally, October 2009

It was an opportunity too good to be missed. Our hosts from the Woodstock Museum, Shelli Lipton and Nathan Koenig, had booked us a spot at the Festival. They had also booked us into a bunkhouse, with 10 bunk beds. By now we had mushroomed to a party of 10.

It wasn’t pot, but potties that preoccupied us the three days we were there. The toilets were blocked. Much time and energy was spent agonizing over the situation and negotiating the portaloos well before the happy horde that had descended on the Camp trashed them every morning.

Harvest Fest, the child of Hemp activist and performance poet Rob Robinson, was now in its thirteenth year. The legal situation with pot in the US is complex and confusing. Some states (California) allow the medical use of marijuana. Others will bust you for possessing rolling papers. The talk at the Camp was all about the bust of a long-time hemp activist, who had been caught with a whole lot of pot that he was bringing to the festival. Regardless, the pot was plentiful.

Camp Minglewood, Hancock, October 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

From pot to politics. I met Kurt Shotko, a member of the Greens party. Kurt was of the opinion that the Republicans and Democrats were cut from the same cloth, manufactured by big business. “Look at what Obama’s doing in Afghanistan. He’s sending more Americans to die there. We need an alternative to the main players. We’ve got to wake up to the reality that the American dream has been a nightmare for a lot of Americans and for the rest of the world, especially in Iraq and Afghanistan. We have been asleep for too long. We need a revival of common sense. Only a massive program of self education is going to do it.”

Then he quoted from the Populist Program, published in 1892: “They propose to sacrifice our homes, lives and children on the altar of mammon; to destroy the multitude in order to secure corruption funds for the millionaires.”

1892! The sleep of unreason had been a long one.

But Kurt was hopeful of the next generation. That’s why he set up camp at festivals across the US. And that’s partly why we were there too.

Benny Zable in front of archival pic from Rainbow Dreaming, NY Harvest Fest & Freedom Rally, Camp Minglewood, Hancock, October 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

The Rainbow Dreaming exhibit was attached to a wall in the main music hall. Thus many, mostly young, punters got to see the exhibit. This was where The Wailers played on Saturday. I caught the Wailers when they played in Byron and I’m happy to report that they are still wailing away.

But what struck me most about the music at Harvest Fest was the pervasive influence of the Grateful Dead, the legendary sixties psychedelic band from San Francisco. From Cabinet, an established US indi band that played the main stage, to camp fire songs at 4 am, the Dead were everywhere, on so many t shirts and stickers, in so many riffs and improvisatory moments, as a psychedelic glint in so many eyes.

George Clinton & Funkedelic, NY Harvest Fest & Freedom Rally, Camp Minglewood, Hancock, October 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

I spoke with Jane, an artist from New York, who had a stall selling Dead memorabilia. She had grown up in San Francisco and was still a Deadhead. Her eyes misted when she spoke of Jerry Garcia: “You could see so much love pouring out of him. It was a love affair that lasted and lasted and it’s still going strong even when he’s gone.”

Minglewood Moment: across from the festival site, two lovers sit on the steps of a boat ramp. The dying sun paints purple tints on the tops of the maple and elm; waterfowl break the surface of the lake. A band is playing the Dead’s “China Cat Sunflower.”

Woodstock: The Town that Time Forgot

In Rip Van Winkle, Washington Irving’s story, a man who wanders off into the Catskill Mountains, meets some rather strange companions who serve up a suspiciously heady brew, and falls asleep under a tree. When he wakes up, he finds that some 20 years have gone by and his world has changed.

Woodstoock, October 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

The town of Catskill is 30 minutes away from Woodstock. Some 40 years have gone by after the infamous Woodstock festival of 1969. And the world has changed since those heady days. But walking around Woodstock, the town that gave a name to the festival, (which happened in the neighbouring town of Bethel, some 100 kms away), you could be forgiven for believing that it’s still in the thrall of those halcyon days of hippiedom.

Woodstoock, October 2009. Pic: Emi iizuka

Our first port of call was the Woodstock Town Board meeting that night. Benny Zable, Nimbin’s ambassador to Woodstock, presented letters from Nimbin and the crew made a presentation on the Rainbow Dreaming exhibit and its relevance to the whole Woodstock legacy.

The meet was dominated by a spirited discussion over rezoning issues, something very familiar to us on the north coast. Would Woodstock go the way of other small towns and be besieged by rampant development, or would it stay true to its alternative legacy?

That night we also visited the Bearsville Cultural Centre (set up by Albert Grossman, one-time manager of Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin and The Band) and Alchemia Café to catch some live music, including a spirited set by Adam, a young musician we had met at the Byron market drum circle!

Guided around by Benny, on our very first day in Woodstock, we met some representatives of Woodstock’s hippie past: Jogger John, the local village savant, who used to jog everywhere, but, due to his advanced age is now is on a bike; Day A, the village barber, who runs a soup kitchen for the Rainbow Family in town; Grandpa and Grandma Woodstock, an elderly couple, dressed the part, almost town mascots. Woodstock itself is full of funky cafes and art galleries. Turn a corner and spy a Zen garden, complete with waterfall and pergola.

Peace Pole, Woodstock, October 2009. Pic: Emi Iizuka

In the centre of Woodstock town is the village green and the peace pole, with peace messages in several languages. We bumped into Fr John, a priest and peace activist. When he heard that two of our crew, Sayaka Nakao and Rina Terasaki, were from Tokyo, he beamed at them and said: “ Let’s set up a peace link between Woodstock and Tokyo. All it takes is five people. Five is the magic number. Can you find five friends in Tokyo who may be interested?”

Hippie Church, Woodstock, October 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

Fr John also runs the Hippie Church, on the hill overlooking Woodstock. This was the very church where Bob Dylan was rumoured to have married the love of his life, Sarah, his sad eyed lady of the lowlands. The church wears the patina of age, its icons fading in the dim, dank light streaming through stained glass windows.

Path to Buddhist monastery, Woodstock, October 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

In stark contrast is the Buddhist monastery next door. Set up in 1975, the monastery is linked to the 10th century Tibetan Kagyu lineage. Its halls are huge and lushly decorated with tankas, its massive Buddha is gold-painted, its prayer lamps cast a beatific glow on meditating monks and visitors; its gift shop bulges with merchandise, all a tribute to Buddhism’s growing influence in the new world.

Prophesy

The next morning, my very first snowflakes, fine and feathery.

It was too cold to venture out. Emi Iizuka and Simeon Michaels, both from Byron, had joined us in Woodstock. We were toasty warm at the Woodstock Museum, hosted by Shelli and Nathan.

Under the tutelage of Shelli, the sacred Indian corn was brought out and inspected. Purple, yellow, orange, red and black, this was authentic Hopi corn. The girls played with the corn silk, good for medicinal tea and dress ups, fake moustaches and beards. They were transformed into imaginary characters, magical beings, the warrior princesses of Genghis Khan, dressed as men to pass unnoticed amidst the ripening corn. Shelli makes beautiful corn necklaces, a craft she learnt from Rainbow Weaver, a Mohawk Clan Mother.

Padmasambhava, Buddhist monastery, Woodstock, October 2009. Pic: Emi Iizuka

Nathan spoke about the connection between the Hopi and the Tibetans. “Padmasambhava, the founder of Tibetan Buddhism, said: When the iron bird flies and the horses run on wheels the Tibetans will be scattered over the face of the earth and the dharma will come to the land of the red man.”

Nathan went on: “The Hopi’s felt that this might have something to do with the dharma coming to the US. They have prophesies too. After the swastika and the sun, there would be another force, symbolized by the colour red. This force will wear a red cloak or red cap. Spiritual wisdom will come from the East. This spirituality must spread. If that does not take root, others with the red symbol will invade from the West and crawl over the land in one day. The Hopis think this could be the ‘red’ Chinese.”


“When the Tibetan Karmapa visited Hopiland in 1974, he said: We must have know each other before; your features, ceremonies and way of life are similar to our own. When we bought Hopis to the monastery in Woodstock in 1979, the two cultures again recognized each other, and the Hopis said that the Tibetans may very well be the long lost brother who left them at the beginning of time and went to the other side of the earth to balance the earth spiritually.” Said Shelli: “When the shit hits the fan, we won’t survive unless we cooperate with each other. That’s also what the Hopi prophecies speak of. The Hopis are known as the ‘peaceful ones’.”

While we spoke of prophecies, outside, in the gathering gloom, Tiago Guimaraes, a Brazilian artist, was busy carving out a statue of a man with a guitar, the quintessential hippie hitchhiker, his hand raised, his fingers flashing the peace sign.

Elliot Landy’s book on Woodstock

The Rainbow Dreaming opening at the Woodstock Museum on Sat 17 Oct was a modest yet sweet affair: local musos were in attendance and we joined the members of the Woodstock drum circle in a bongothon.

Rainbow Dreaming crew with Elliot Landy, Woodstock Museum, October 2009. Pic: Hans Lovejoy

The highlight of the evening was meeting Elliot Landy, the famous Woodstock photographer. Elliot was all praise for the exhibit, gave away signed copies of his book to all the crew and offered to help us find a publisher for a book on the exhibition. (Sadly, I was to leave my copy on the street in San Francisco while moving house.)

The Last Hippie, Woodstock Museum, October 2009. Pic: Harsha Prabhu

The last act of the day was raising the sculpture of the hippie hitchhiker and placing him on his pedestal: a symbol of Woodstock’s hippie past and a pointer to its uncertain future as a cultural pilgrimage centre.

Woodstock Earth, after the drum circle, October, 2009. Pic: Simeon Michaels

On our last evening in Woodstock, we participated in the Woodstock Earth drum circle. Some 30 drummers were gathered in the backyard at Day A’s house. In summer, the drummers gather at the village green and spill out onto the road. As the sound of the drums rose over the autumn dusk, we were again reminded of how lucky we were with our vibrant culture of communal drumming and dancing in the rainbow region.

Last days in New York: the Bangladeshi cigarette sellers; the African rickshaw pullers in Central Park; the old men and women carting large bundles of recyclable cans and bottles; the man in Times Square offering to sell me a 15 carat gold ring or Obama condoms.

While the crew went shopping and sightseeing I wandered back to Central Park. More than the statue of Liberty, than Ground Zero, than the suicide gulches and canyons of Wall Street, I was drawn to the spot with the Imagine mosaic and tribute to John Lennon. Park benches line the walkway, each with its dedication. I sat there, amidst the touros and derros, as the shadows lengthened.

Then I saw these lines from Dylan Thomas, carved on a park bench: “Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.”

Celebrating Woodstock - Part 2 on San Francisco’s Westfest and the Beats to follow. Please check my blog...

by Harsha Prabhu

Rainbow Dreaming crew at Magic Mountain, Woodstock, October 2009

NOTE: An edited version of A Fairy Tale of New York was published in the Byron Shire Echo, October 2009. While the words and sentiments in the blogs are my own, this project has been a community cultural initiative, helped along by many hands, hearts and minds. Many thanks are due.

First up, Benny Zable, Shelli Lipton & Nathan Koening for setting up the Nimbin Woodstock Connection and the sister village link between the two communities. I would like to acknowledge the help and guidance offered by the Rainbow Dreaming crew – Benny Zable, Hans Lovejoy, Saya Minami, Sayaka Nakao, Rina Terasaki, Emi Iizuka & Simeon Michaels – on this amazing journey to the US. Thanks to our hosts in the US, including Traci Mann & Nanci Callahan in NYC; Rob Robinson at Harvestfest; Shelli Lipton & Nathan Koenig at Woodstock Museum; and Douglas Kolberg & Boots Hughston at Westfest. Thanks to our principal sponsor Happy High Herbs and our media sponsors Byron Shire Echo & Bay FM. Thanks to all those who donated to the community chest to make this project possible, including all the artist and performers from the rainbow region who helped raise funds for the US tour. And a big thank you to all the freaky people of the rainbow region, who are the inspiration for this project. And the writers and photographers who so generously donated their work. This project was auspiced by Byron Community & Cultural Centre, assisted by Lismore Regional Gallery and supported by Byron Neighbourhood Resource Centre and Mullumbimby & District Neighbourhood Centre. Rainbow Dreaming was curated & produced by Harsha Prabhu & Graeme Batterbury for the Rainbow Collective. More on Rainbow Dreaming, including how to get a copy of the book, at: www.rainbowdreaming.org

[dannejavi]

Primal Instinct

“Yes yes yes,” the woman groaned breathless as Derek drove down on her, hips pumping merciless Annalise’s voluptuous body deep in the mattress, her fat rolls and big tits rippling under his punishing thrusts.

The pace set was animalistic, raw pure ecstasy that ran in form of pheromones in the air, dopamine, adrenaline and testosterone flowing through their veins. Annalise was fertile that night, Derek’s alpha wolf could sense it, her rip smell setting him loose right away.

Derek’s strokes were long and calculated, his muscle adonis body undulating with languid, sensual moves, immerse in the penumbra that surrounded the fancy master suite. As like annalise’s body, the frame bed jerked upward under the strength of his thrusts, the headboard made of expensive wood. Pink Ivory, he had smelled it. $7000-8000 per Kg. The price obviously reflected on its quality, stronger structure that supported heavy loads and intense impacts. He knows the frame bed wouldn’t collapse if he put more powerfucking. Besides, the woman has asked for it rough. So, Derek could only oblige it.

“This is so good.. Fuck me alpha. Give me what you got!” she screamed out, chubby hands desperately sliding along Derek’s sweaty back, caressing the narrow curve of his lower back, squeezing his flexing, granite-muscled ass just to make its way up again.

Annalise was a 35 years old woman, with a chubby, voluptuous body bursting with health. She went from rich to millionaire status when, five years ago, her until hen 40 years old husband, a texan-born oil magnate, had passed away in an accident at one of his multiple extraction platforms on Middle East. Luckily, she was smart and wise enough to assume the multimillionaire company business, obviously with proper help of her late husband’s co partners.

However, they never had children, despite it be the couple’s biggest dream. Not for lack of trying, I must say, cause her husband was very into the idea, but unfortunately they never could accomplish that.

But Annalise’s desire to become mother didn’t died with her husband. She knew biological clock was ticking, and the longer it takes the harder would be to get pregnant. One night, while working on Internet, she found the ABFP page - Alpha Breeding and Fertilisation Programme -, a legal reproduction program approved by U.S. government. Similar to sperm banks, but regarding alphas only, or Breeders , as they were called.

ABFP make information available about the Alphas to enable customers to select the Breeder they wish to rent. This information is often available by way of an online illustrated catalog that held a complete profile regarding Alphas’ parental background that includes family name, physical features, genetical maps. ABFP also have facilities to help customers to make their choice. The breeding contract was signed by both parts - the Breeder and customer - assenting to the specific ethical laws and reproductive legislation.

At the age of 24, Derek Hale was the high prime Alpha Breeder in California state, his semen worthing nothing less than 6 digit in a check. Alongside his uncle, Peter, Derek’s lineage came from a long time wealthy, respected family in California since 17th century. Also, Derek was a real adonis, the pinnacle of masculinity: gorgeous face, sharp jawline carved by angels, green eyes sporting a miscellaneous of golden shades around his pupils, a bright melt-icebergs smile and a perfect muscled, ripped body that exuded virility. On top of that, a big, uncut 10 inches cock and massive testicles full of fertile semen.

Since his register on ABFP system two years ago, Derek had scored the best results ever seen for an Alpha, his semen analysis scoring highest successful rates in breeding tests, spermatozoa quality and protein content, as well the biggest amounts of semen per ejaculation. For all those reasons, Derek was the most hired Alpha from ABFP catalog.

Naturally, Alphas tend to come more than betas and male humans, a feature that guarantee outcome breeding, once they had lost the knot along the evolutionary course. However, as well everything else attested in his life, Derek topped even that. His testicles were massive, two heavy egg-shaped glands containing 15 to 20 ml of semen (by way of comparison, the Alpha average was 10 to 15 ml, while betas and male humans held between 5 to 10 ml). In short, Derek Hale was a top Breeder , impregnating successfully all his customers with beautiful, strong and healthy babies. With no doubts, Annalise would be one more to add the list Derek had lost count of.

“You’re beautiful, Anna. So perfect for my cock, for my semen,” praise kinky was a very common request from customers. But Derek really meant it, cause Annalise was indeed a very good looking woman, with hazelnut brown eyes, brown long hair, delicate mouth and soft skin. Even her chubby form, often depreciated by others, pleased Derek truly. Besides, the woman has a nice personality, smartness, and a beautiful heart as Derek noticed during his seven-day stay on her fancy, high-priced house in Hollywood Hills.

Derek always stay with his customers as lasts the fertile period, usually 6 to 8 days, maybe 9 or 10, once the cycle is variable from person to person. During that time they could have all sex they want until impregnation occur, but had free will to keep going after if so they wish.

If happens the customer, by any chance, don’t conceive at first month, it was a deal rule the Alpha would come back the following months, and they would keep trying till it succeeds. If by the sixth month, the customer don’t get impregnated by any reason, even after all procedures taken, 75% of the amount paid for the Alpha hiring goes back to customer, a protection clause previously insured on the breeding contract.

Derek’s sweat dripped from his nose onto Annalise’s face, his mouth was half parted, showing off his bunny teeth that grant him nice comments on his ABFP profile. Eyes lidded completed his blissed look, rejoicing the grip of Annalise’s pussy around his throbbing cock.

“Oh my God... Put a baby in me Derek, make me pregnant,” hearing her whining pleas, put fuel to Derek’s horniness, he thrusting into her madly, hips pivoting and taking her mouth on a passionate kiss. It was coming, he could feel it, his wolf scratching under his skin to the imminent orgasm. "I want a baby, your baby!"

“I’m gonna give you a child. Breed you full..” Derek panted on Annalise’s face, lips barely touching on hers. “He will be beautiful, as like his mother,”

They kissed again, a match of tongues and tilting of heads on perfect synchrony, humming and rutting like two animals, sweaty-drenched skin and slicked limbs sliding along. Derek’s rhythm faltered, his powerful thighs granting balance as his back arched, and his nuts pulled up, tingling. He bottomed out, hips flushed against Annalise’s groin, unloading gallons of thick, rich semen into her rip womb.

“Fuck yes!” head threw back, Derek growled, eyes flashing Alpha red, relishing in the primal sensation of breeding. Impaled on his massive rod, Annalise writhed, locking her fat calves on Derek’s lower back, pulling him deeper in a unconscious reflex, as if he could escape or his semen would miss its destined way. She rake nails on his taut biceps, feeling Derek’s member throbbing, constricted by her inner walls, groaning meaningless words under the overwhelming sexual bliss of an Alpha cock pumping inside her.

Breathless, Derek purred on her neck, his chest vibrating as he rubbed his stubble on her sensitive skin, an evident scent-marking behavior upon the female that would bear his offspring. Not that it would be his, but his wolf couldn’t tell the difference, it was an instinctive behavior. He often did that, and Derek eventually recognized it as a sign that meant the breeding was a success, she was pregnant with his child or children.

His wolf has never been wrong before.

Making sure all his seed was deeply in Annalise’s uterus, Derek pulled back, hissing at the slow dragging on his sensitive hard shaft, once his erection often took a time to soften. He slumped beside Annalise, that exhausted from the intense love making, quickly drifted asleep, snuggling onto Derek’s wet and heated body.

Chest heaving trying to gather his breath, Derek looked up at the white ceiling with lidded eyes, sweat dripping by his ribcage soaking the sheets underneath. He wrapped one arm around Annalise’s now fecunded body. With a tiny content smile on the corner of his mouth, Derek allowed himself to fell asleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------

If you liked this or want me to write a drabble for you, please visit my kofi or send a message. Thank you :)

[ninemoons42-lestallumhaven]

(have an unexpected long way home ficlet because it’s @nearsightedpandas‘s birthday! in this ‘verse, Gladio and Ignis are humans, and Noctis and Prompto are -- not XD for lack of a better term. Noct is the cat that’s adopted Ignis, and Prompto is Gladio’s emotional support animal~)

Quick Fic Pick 71: a “paws” in the morning

Ignis opens his eyes to the billowing weight of sun-faded and sun-streaked cotton, pastel-checked blue and green and ivory, and the smell of sunlight on asphalt, the smell of rain lingering on leaves, and the breeze that whistles in the corners of the tiny room wafts the sweet-vine must of fat flower-buds on the edge of bursting open onto his skin, and he sits up.

Spinning, the world is spinning dizzily, pulling away and beyond him just for a moment, before he can understand a few things.

First, that he’s been sleeping on mattresses piled onto the floor – a neat heap of quilted material, a light blanket thrown onto his foot, a pillow in a linen slipcase still bearing the impressions of his own hands and knees.

Second, that the weight along his leg that he’d taken for a sleek black curl of tail and river-run eyes actually belongs to – a shape of gold and copper, and floppy ears. Deep snoring sounds that taper off into a whuff and then – shiver up and down that broad canine back. Morning-gleam on a damp black nose and liquid dark eyes shifting to look back at him – and then a blink, followed by a wide wide grin.

And Ignis can’t help himself, can’t help the lightness that bubbles up in his chest, the strange sweet pang of it: he laughs, and the entire bulk of Prompto, still leaning into him, seems to shiver with happiness in response, and the next thing he knows the dog moves, kneads the bed with huge paws, and then collapses onto his calves and his feet.

He’s still laughing when he leans over and takes Prompto’s head in both of his hands as he’s seen Gladio do, and he shakes the dog, very gently, from side to side.

Quiet deep bark, such an incongruously small sound considering the entire size of the dog, and he chuckles in response. “It was kind of you to look after me. Thank you, for being good at that.”

He doesn’t even bother to wrinkle his nose when Prompto whuffles happily at him and proceeds to lick his face and his neck – though he looks away when he has to sneeze, and then he laughs some more because Prompto gives him such an offended look in response.

So much so that he falls back into the pillows and laughs until the tears run from his eyes, until he can barely click his tongue and say, “Come, come up here.”

“That’s a good sound to hear,” someone says, and Ignis swipes at his eyes once again, and turns his head to look at the shape in the door.

The two shapes, actually – even as he watches, a long lean shape of darkness slides between Gladio and the door, and enters the room, and – arch of neck, lash of tail, gleam of light in those imperious eyes and Ignis decides to give in to one more childish notion, and – he sticks his tongue out at Noct the cat. “What are you looking at?”

Yowl, deep and outraged, and Noct is on the move, slow stalking graceful movement and the agitated side-to-side lash of tail, and Ignis has half a mind to shove Prompto off his lap and restrain his cat instead – he’s not even sleeping in his own room or his own bed, and he’d be amused at a catfight in his own quarters, but he’s a guest here and so is his cat – but when Noct pounces, when Noct lands, the mewl is not for Ignis.

Noct is mewling at Prompto, piteous half-scold, that only stops when Prompto reaches out with a large paw and taps gently between upright ears, stilling the agitated twitch.

And Noct calms, but not by much, if the squirm onto Prompto’s back is any indication.

So instead of a fight, instead of claws and teeth and tails, the morning calm is instead broken by the deep satisfied purr of cat sprawled out atop the bemused bulk of dog, and this time Ignis does pull his feet out from under both of them, if only so he can grab his phone from the overturned crate between him and the window, and aim its camera in their direction.

Click. Click. Click.

“That’s new.”

And the bedding squeaks with the weight of Gladio, who is settling next to him: Ignis falls into the easy warmth of him, leans into that broad shoulder, and he’s laughing because Gladio is laughing, too, because Noct is sliding off Prompto’s back and because Prompto is curling protectively around Noct, and the two of them have been almost obsessively clinging to each other since last night, since dinner, a slow meandering conversation covering a six-pack of beers, and a last-minute introduction to Clarus.

“You’d think they were brothers from the same litter,” Ignis says, softly, as he sends the photos to Aranea and to Cindy and to Lunafreya.

“You’d think they were an old married couple,” he hears Gladio say, correcting him.

Ignis blinks. “Explain.”

Phone, another phone, placed in his free hand: and Gladio swipes to the gallery app, to the latest file in the list.

Tail of black and tail of gold, twined together in opposing S-curves.

“Dad saw that, last night,” he hears Gladio explain. “They followed him into his room and just sat with him for a bit. And they were sitting like that and he took a picture and sent it to me.”

“I think I need to apologize on behalf of my cat,” he chuckles.

“What’d your cat do?”

Sigh. Shrug, one-shouldered. Smile.

Weight of Gladio’s arm settling around his waist. “You’re fine. So’s your cat.”

“I still can’t believe I fell asleep on you last night.”

“Just barely,” and Gladio is laughing at him this time and he can’t really bring himself to care. “Only saw you stumble once.”

“Please don’t remind me,” and he can’t actually be mad.

He can’t bat away the flush on his own cheeks, either, or the memory of Prompto shuffling to join him, grounding guiding, all but herding him into Gladio’s room.

“That’s what I like,” he hears Gladio say, then, and that’s when he realizes that he’s smiling at himself, and – he shakes his head and curls into Gladio’s touch, and there’s no need to get up, not today, not from this bed, not when they can watch over their cat and their dog.

(He’ll have to tell Gladio that later.)

[sakichi56]

LawLicht Week Day 6, Part 1:

Upon waking up at exactly 7:00a.m. that glorious Saturday morning, Licht felt it was a good time to do some cleaning to prepare for the small birthday celebration he was going to be having for his partner the next day.

So he began by clearing shelves of any useless knick knacks, dusting things off, and going through some old boxes he had stored in his closet. But the contents in one box in particular, had him feeling quite nostalgic.

It was a box filled with old piano awards and various music themed items. But it wasn't the awards that had him feeling so sentimental, no, it was actually the metronome sitting amongst the many trophies and medals.

He gingerly reached in and lifted the item out, inspecting it all over. It wasn't because he remembered being a greenhorn and having to use the metronome to help him keep his timing on the piano that made him reminisce. It was because of an entirely different lesson that this tool had been used for. One that Kranz had forced upon not only Licht, but Lawless as well.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It had been a long, hard, fight. Their opponent wasn't exactly strong, but when you have two people trying to tag team an enemy that have never fought together before, things tend to get messy. Getting in each others way, accidentally attack one another, tripping over each other.

Suffice to say, the Greed pair were both tired and irritated upon their return home. Both were bleeding, covered in dirt, cuts and bruises. Needless to say, Kranz was less than thrilled when he saw them. Especially Licht's state.

“What were you thinking Licht?! You are going to get yourself killed at this rate! Do you know how many people out there would be devastated if they lost you and your music?”

The youth gave a mix between a pout and a glare, then crossed his arms and looked away. The manager sighed in response, he was quickly becoming tired of this. It was one thing when the two got into a fight with each other, because Lawless never tried to kill the boy for real, but when it came to scuffles with other vampires, there was no such guarantee.

“Why can't you just let Lawless handle the fighting? Isn't it his job as your Servamp to protect you? Surely the enemy couldn't have been strong enough to require both of you to take down.”

“There is no way I'm going to sit back and let that demon defend me. I can take care of myself Krantz.”

Once again, the older male sighed. Leaving briefly to fetch the medical kit he always kept on hand for these such instances. Upon his return, he had both the kit, as well as a curious second item that he placed on the ground beside them as he knelt down and tended to the boy’s injuries.

“If you insist on handling the fighting yourself, then why didn't Lawless just hang back and watch. He could have jumped in if you needed the aid, but otherwise he could have just stayed out of your way.”

“That's what I told him! I said, ‘Stay out of my way you rotten hedgehog! I don't need your help, I can handle this on my own, so just stay out of it!’ but he wouldn't listen!”

Before the man in the suit could even respond, a loud voice chimed in from across the room.

“Well why can't you just stay out of my way and let me handle the fight?! He wasn't even attacking you! That subclass was after me! You were the one who jumped in uninvited! I wouldn't have been protecting you, I would have been defending myself!”

“Because if I'd let YOU handle the fighting, you probably would have lost and I would have been the guys next target! It's easier just to take them out first before they come after me! And besides, it's my job as an angel to punish all demons.”

Clearly things could not continue on as they were. He couldn't stop the two from fighting each other. But he could at least prevent them from any friendly fire during battles with others. Standing up, he placed his hands on his hips and fixed the two hyperactive males with a stern look.

“Alright you two, listen up. You cannot keep going like this. It's counterproductive to attack each other in a fight against someone else. So, you two need to learn to coordinate your attacks. Memorize one another's fighting style and work around it. You should be complementing each other, not clashing. Take, for example, Lawless. You fight with a rapier, correct? That means you are a close range fighter. I would assume you are fast. So perhaps, you can rush in and fight up close, while Licht supports you from a further distance. And before either of you complain, this is not a suggestion. You two will not be allowed to leave anywhere alone until I am convinced that you will not kill each other by mistake. Am I clear?”

The two teenagers opened their mouths to protest, but all that came out was stuttering. However, the two only gave in once Gil glared at the two of them over the managers shoulder. Reluctantly, the pair submitted to their training.

“Excellent. Now then, to help you two stayed in rhythm, we will be using this.” The man bent down and picked up the item he brought with him earlier, showing it off to the pair. “I'm sure you are familiar with this already Licht, after all, all aspiring pianists must use one when they are just starting out. But I'm not sure if Lawless knows what it is, so I will explain it for him.” He took a breathe and began in a professional voice.

“This is a metronome. It is used by musicians to help keep a steady pace. It can be set by each individual musician to click at different intervals. Meaning, it helps them keep their timing. So, you two are going to use it to help you fight in sync with each other. We will start with a slower pace to while you are just getting started, but as we progress, I will set it higher and higher. Hopefully you two will learn to work together faster and more efficiently with time. Of course, that means you will need an opponent. Gil, will you please be their sparring partner?”

He received an eager nod, meaning that either he had also had enough of these two showing up in taters, or he just wanted an excuse to beat them both silly. Regardless of his reasons, Krantz was still grateful for his assistance.

“Trés bien! Now then, let's get things started, shall we? Licht, you are up first, you will be sparring with Gil so that Lawless can memorize your fighting style and patterns. Next, he will go and you will watch him. Once you've both gotten a good idea of how the other fights, you can learn how to properly support and maneuver around one another. Tomorrow, we will work on you actually fighting alongside each other, but for now, this is all we will cover today. Now, begin!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Licht rushed forward, a look of determination and fury in his eyes as he lashed out at his opponent. He delivered kick after kick, yet they all proved in effective. Gil had seen him and Hyde fighting each other plenty, more often than not, he was the one who stopped them. So it made sense that he would know how to block his legs. Meaning the musician would have to try a different approach.

Jumping back a few feet, he summoned his piano, quickly taking a seat and playing as the whale raced right at him, aiming to punch him in the face. He was stopped mere inches from the boy, by the melody being played. His body became heavy, dropping to a knee, struggling just to remain upright. This affected the Servamp too, and normally Licht would have taken full advantage of that fact, but right now he had to focus.

His fingers stilled as he leapt up and lashed out with his right leg. It connected solidly with the back of the mascots head, knocking him to the ground where the teen used his left leg to kick the man back up into the air, before spinning around to strike him with his right leg once more, sending him careening into the wall.

“Remember Licht, we need to see everything you can do! Not just close combat, but long distance as well, if you can of course.” Shouted his manager from the sidelines. The boy growled in frustration and turned a glare on the man.

“Why should I? You can see how powerful I am already. I shouldn't need to-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the lad had received a severe blow to his left cheek, which sent him sprawling on the ground.

“Lich-tan!”

“Focus Licht!”

The teen quickly rolled, barely dodging another hit as he staggered back to his feet despite being disoriented. The earlier battle, coupled with the strike he'd just received was definitely taking its toll. Perhaps long distance would be the best option from here on out.

Leaping back once more on shaky feet, the youth began drawing out a piano roll on the ground, completely surrounding his would be adversary with piano keys.

Now, how should I end this? I could keep running along the keys, playing out another paralyzing tune and then rush in for another kick. But something tells me that won't be enough to bring him down. Maybe I can play something loud enough that it will make him pass out? No. Then Krantz and I would be in danger too. I guess my best option is just to trap him and force him to surrender.

Hopping off the ivory patterned ground below him, he summoned his grand piano and began to play his paralyzing melody once more, quickly freezing his opponent in place. Once he was immobilized, the piano roll around him, began to wrap itself around the whale’s body, encasing him in a musical prison. The piano wrapped itself tighter and tighter around the man, squeezing the very air out of his lungs.

“Submit now. You have lost demon. Nod once and this will all be over.”

The subclass instantly complied. Nodding his assent that he had lost. And as soon as he did, the bindings disappeared, allowing the vampire to drop to his knees, heaving and gasping for air.

Krantz immediately rushed over, pulling the head of the costume off and checking the man inside to make sure he was alright. When he was satisfied that the subclass was alright, he turned to Licht.

“Well done Licht. I believe that is enough for now. Lawless, did you get a good idea of what Licht can do?” He looked to the head vampire in the room and saw a look of dumbfounded shock on his face. He received a short nod.

“Good. Then, once Guildenstern is feeling up to it, you two can go at it, alright?”

The blond nodded and raced over to his Eve.

“Lich-tan that was amazing! I knew you were tough, but I didn't know you were THIS strong.”

“Hmph. Of course I am. I have to be, otherwise how would I be able to punish all demons like the proper angel I am?”

The two messed around for a bit. Hyde teasing Licht about how great he was and the pianist trying to attack the Servamp. After about five minutes of their usual banter, Gil had decided that he was up for more and Lawless was called over to face off against his subclass. The oldest being in the room began the battle by summoning his sword and taunting his underling with a smirk on his face.

“Y'know, this isn't even a fair fight. I have a sword, and you don't. Oh well, try not to lose too quickly. I wanna put on a good performance for my little angel.”

The man in costume stayed silent. Choosing instead to taunt him back by motioning him to ‘Bring it on.’ with a flipper covered hand. Lawless frowned at his subclass’ display of arrogance and charged headfirst at the whale.

He ducked down to dodge a swing of the mascot’s arm and went to slash the stomach of the costume, only to have the man catch the rapier in his hand and swing his tail at his boss. The tail smacked right into the Servamp’s gut, knocking the wind out of him briefly. Long enough for his opponent to punch him square in the face.

This forced the vampire with the glasses to release his weapon and leap back clutching his face in pain.

“Ow! That hurt! Damn it!”

“What was that about this not being a fair fight because you have a sword, Lawless? It would seem now that you have been disarmed, this fight is more than fair. Actually, Gil should be the one telling YOU not to lose to quickly, as it would seem he is now the one wielding a sword and not you.”

“Tch. Damn it all.”

Rushing forward, Hyde attempted to snatch his blade back, only to get a nice new scratch running right under his eye and all the way to his ear. He wasn't as good with hand to hand combat as Licht was, but maybe he could distract the whale with a few feints and then steal back his weapon. Or so he thought, however, that too proved useless.

The blond attempted to kick the sword from the mascot’s flipper, but was unsuccessful, as it only allowed the man to grab the theatrical vampire's ankle and swing him around, bashing him into the ground multiple times before throwing him into the wall over top Licht and his manager’s heads.

“Come on shit rat! What are you doing?! Hurry up and beat him!”

Shaking his head to clear it of debris, the red eyed teen stood up and growled.

“I know, I know! Just shut up, okay?!”

“Tch.”

The man with the braid smiled.

Lawless was growing angrier by the minute. And he was not like Licht, who could still think and form a plan of attack despite his level of agitation. No. When Lawless got mad, he went into a blind fury.

Once again, the vampire raced forward and tried to get his sword back, throwing a few fake punches to try and throw the subclass off guard long enough to grab the blade back. But the whale ignored the jabs and thrust forward with the rapier, piercing the Servamp’s shirt and pinning him to the wall behind them.

Across the room, Lawless heard his Eve call his name in what sounded like alarm. He almost smiled. Until his underling began laying into him. Punch after punch. He raised his arms to block the blows, but they still did their damage.

“What are you, stupid?! Grab the damn sword!”

The blond’s eyes widened. What was he doing? Licht was right. This was the perfect opportunity to get his weapon back. Not the time to be guarding a few measly punches. He quickly kicked up to get his subclass off of him, and reached out for the handle, feeling the comforting weight of his rapier back in his grasp, he smiled.

Yanking it out of his shirt, the vampire jumped to his feet and slashed at the costume wearer’s stomach once more. This time, he hit it, but he didn't manage to tear through the heavy material.

“Gil’s costume is made with only the finest and toughest material. We can't have him destroying his outfit everytime he jumps in to stop you two after all. He won't be damaged so easily.”

“That's not fair! If he can hurt me, but I can't hurt him, then how am I supposed to show off what I can do?! Make him take it off! Take it off right now Guildenstern!”

The braided man laughed.

“Actually I think that's far enough. As you already said at the start of the match, it wasn't a fair fight, you just didn't know which side had the disadvantage. Besides, Licht has been watching diligently the whole time. I think he understands you and your abilities just fine. And speaking of your abilities, thinking clearly isn't one of them. Did it ever occur to you, at any time in the fight, that you could have just let your power go?”

“Huh?”

The man chuckled again, as the blond tilted his head in confusion.

“Your sword, you summon it from inside you correct? And you can make it disappear and reappear at will, can't you? So why didn't you just make it disappear and then resummon it in your grasp, instead of trying to take it back from Gil?”

“Ah!”

He was right. Why hadn't I done that? It would have saved me a lot of pain and trouble, that's for sure. I guess I just got so caught up in the moment, that I didn't even think of it as a possibility. He thought, casting a saddened gaze down at the floor.

“Stupid hedgehog.”

“Now then, how about we all get cleaned up and have something to eat? Okay? Oh, and that was very well done Guildenstern. Thank you for your help, as always.”

The whale nodded and left, dragging along his boss who was arguing with his Eve about how he wasn't stupid. The manager smiled and followed them out.

----

The next 6 days were spent with Hyde and Licht coming up with ways to work together in a battle. Licht offered up the idea of boosting Lawless’ powers with his own during a fight. While Hyde suggested an idea of his own, saying that he would be Licht's shield while the boy focused on attacking. They agreed that both were viable options and spent the next few days working out any kinks in the ideas.

The metronome sat ticking away on the floor beside Krantz, as he watched the two working together to try to bring down Guildenstern. One second, Licht was about to get punched in the face, a tick was heard, and then Lawless was in his place, blocking the attack as Licht launched one of his own.

It proved to be a very useful technique that they diligently worked on perfecting. In time, the two learned to attack from different angles and at different intervals. They took turns and when one failed, the other covered him. A perfect team. Two people functioning as one unit. The two men were proud of them.

Reaching out and placing a hand on the metronome to still the ticking hand, he smiled. Even after he silenced the tool, the two were still keeping their pace. Licht, then Lawless, then Licht again. Marvelous.

“Alright. That will do boys.”

Standing up, he gave a shining smile at all of them as they froze mid attack just to look at him.

“I am satisfied. I believe you two have learned how to complement each other quite well on the battlefield. You may go. Just remember your training the next time you get into a fight, okay? That is all. And I am very proud of you all!”

After that, the two went back to their normal daily routines. Licht performing concerts, and Hyde working his part time jobs. And when the time came that they were kidnapped by Tsubaki and had to fight Higan as a cohesive unit, they were grateful to the training that had been forced upon them.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Smiling at the memory, Licht ran a loving hand down the back of the tool in appreciation for all it had done for them.

“Haaaaaa, mornin angel cakes. Whatcha got there?”

Turning to glance over his shoulder, he saw Hyde smiling as he approached him and leaned over to see what the boy was holding, he also noticed that the wall clock now read 8:30a.m. meaning he had been reminiscing for almost an hour.

In place of answering his partner, he held the object out to him.

“See for yourself.”

The bloodsucker's eyes widened as soon as he saw it.

“Is this…?”

“Yeah. It is the same one Krantz used for our training.”

The smile on Licht's face turned into a smirk as he saw the grin Hyde wore transform into a nearly cheek splitting smile.

“Oh man! That sure brings back memories.”

“Yeah.”

[euroman1945-blog]

The Daily Tulip

The Daily Tulip – News From Around The World

Thursday 26th July 2018

Good Morning Gentle Reader….  where ever you are in the world on this little blue planet that’s spinning though the milky way surrounded by twinkling stars and planets waiting for the first contact from other world… Not a cloud in the sky this morning and record temperatures are expected today on the Costa del Sol, and an Orange alert as the heat index will be through the roof today as the forecast is 38c and humid in Malaga not so hot in Estepona and as we are close to the Straights of Gibraltar we have more breezes to remove the humidity…But nevertheless Bella enjoyed her walk this morning and is now recumbent at my feet, so with coffee in hand let’s take a look at what has happened or about to on this little blue plant we call home….

BEACH UMBRELLA IMPALES WOMAN IN CHEST IN OCEAN CITY, MARYLAND…. A woman has been injured by a beach umbrella that flew through the air and impaled her chest in the US state of Maryland, officials say. The 46-year-old woman, who was sitting in a chair on the beach in the resort town of Ocean City, had to be flown by helicopter to a nearby hospital. The victim, from Pennsylvania, is expected to make a full recovery. Last week a British woman was injured when a parasol pierced her leg on a beach in New Jersey. In the latest incident, the victim was struck in her upper chest after a rental umbrella that was left unattended was carried by the wind. The pole of the umbrella had to be cut in half by a fire crew in order to be removed, local media report.

CWMBRAN WALES DRINK-DRIVER STOLE MINIBUS WITH PASSENGERS ON….A "completely drunk" driver has been jailed for stealing a minibus with three passengers on board. James Powell, 30, jumped into the bus at Cwmbran train station in January while its driver was unloading luggage. He then drove at "dangerous speeds" with three women on board, running a red light and "lurching from side to side". When the passengers begged him to stop he "simply laughed", Newport Crown Court heard. Powell, from Thornhill, Cwmbran, admitted three counts of false imprisonment. He also pleaded guilty to aggravated vehicle taking, dangerous driving while under the influence of alcohol and driving with no insurance. He was jailed for 10 months and disqualified from driving for two years.

MEXICAN PRISONERS FLEE SINALOA JAIL DISGUISED AS GUARDS…. Two prisoners have escaped from a jail in Mexico's northern Sinaloa state by disguising themselves as prison guards. The two walked out of the prison's main gate in Culiacán wearing uniforms. They were escorted by two guards believed to have been in their pay who also drove the getaway cars. Officials said Carlos Salmón and Julián Grimaldi were considered "highly dangerous" inmates and had been held in special cells to prevent them from escaping. They had originally been held in federal prisons, which have higher levels of security, but were returned to the Aguaruto prison in Culiacán after they had successfully appealed against the order to hold them in federal penitentiaries. Grimaldi was arrested in February and is accused of being a financial operator for the Sinaloa cartel, one of the most powerful criminal organisations in Mexico. He is also suspected of having taken part in an ambush in September 2016 during which five soldiers were killed. Salmón was arrested two years ago on suspicion of being the leader of a gang of hit men. He is accused of carrying out an attack on a police convoy in 2012 in which seven officers were shot dead. The two prisoners managed to sneak past six security checks during their escape. There have been a number of high-profile prison escapes in Mexico in past years, the most famous being that of the leader of the Sinaloa cartel, Joaquín "El Chapo" Guzmán. Guzmán escaped from a maximum security prison near Mexico through a tunnel in 2015. He was recaptured six months later and has since been extradited to the US.

AFGHAN AIRPORT BLAST: VP GEN DOSTUM UNHURT AS KABUL BOMB KILLS 14…. Fourteen people have died in a blast which rocked Kabul airport shortly after Afghan Vice-President Abdul Rashid Dostum returned from self-imposed exile, according to police. Gen Dostum was unhurt in the attack on a square he had just passed through. He left for Turkey more than a year ago, after he was accused of ordering his men to kidnap and rape a political rival - accusations he denies. Militant group Islamic State has said it carried out the attack. Hashmat Estankzai, of Kabul police, said nine security forces members and traffic officers were among the 14 who had died, while another 60 people had been injured, according to news agency AFP.

DE BEERS MOVES 200 ELEPHANTS FROM SOUTH AFRICA TO MOZAMBIQUE…. Diamond producer De Beers says it has started an operation to move 200 elephants from its game reserve in South Africa to Mozambique. The elephant population at the private Venetia Limpopo Nature Reserve was too high, and risked causing extensive damage to the ecosystem, the firm said. The relocation of the 200 animals would boost elephant numbers in neighbouring Mozambique, it added. Elephants in Mozambique are threatened with extinction because of poaching. Mozambique suffers from some of the highest rates of poaching for ivory. More than half of its elephant population it thought to have been lost in the last five years because of poaching, according to campaign group Fauna and Flora International. At one park, the Niassa National Reserve, poachers killed nearly 11,000 elephants since 2007, reducing their numbers to about 1,500. De Beers, the world's leading diamond producer, said it would transport 60 elephants to the state-owned Zinave National Park in July and August. The remaining 140 would be moved to parks, which had enough space to accommodate them, from 2019, it added in a statement. De Beers would donate $500,000 (£380,000) over five years to the Peace Parks Foundation conservation group to combat poaching in Mozambique, the company said. Its Venetia Limpopo Nature Reserve in South Africa could support around 60 elephants but now had 270 as a result of natural population growth, De Beers said. There was "no greater symbol of Africa than the majestic elephant", and the relocation would help secure their future in Mozambique, the firm added. It would also ensure that other species could flourish at the 32,000-hectare (80,000-acre) Venetia Limpopo Nature Reserve, it said. The park's elephant population had been decimated during Mozambique's 16-year civil war, which ended in 1992. Peace Parks Foundation CEO Werner Myburgh welcomed the relocation, saying it would "bring us one step closer to achieving our dream of restoring the landscape" at the Zinave National Park.

Well Gentle Reader I hope you enjoyed our look at the news from around the world this, morning… …

Our Tulips today are rather special…being shown at the Albany Flower Festival New York..

A Sincere Thank You for your company and Thank You for your likes and comments I love them and always try to reply, so please keep them coming, it's always good fun, As is my custom, I will go and get myself another mug of "Colombian" Coffee and wish you a safe Thursday 26th July 2018 from my home on the southern coast of Spain, where the blue waters of the Alboran Sea washes the coast of Africa and Europe and the smell of the night blooming Jasmine and Honeysuckle fills the air…and a crazy old guy and his dog Bella go out for a walk at 4:00 am…on the streets of Estepona…

All good stuff....But remember it’s a dangerous world we live in

Be safe out there…

Robert McAngus

[stunudo]

BAU Prep School AU

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Opening Night

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. 

Dec. 9, 2016 6:34pm

The lights of the school were on full power, a beacon in the woods on an unseasonably cold, late autumn night. The cast and crew had begun preparations by scurrying between the Rothschild Auditorium and the surrounding hallways in a dizzying processional. The air was thick with hairspray and furniture polish. Ms. Garcia had recruited a few football players to act as ushers and was diligently checking their names on her phone to add them down for service to the school hours.

She wore a faux fur shrug over an emerald green off-the-shoulder fifties’ style evening gown. Her rhinestone glasses matched perfectly with her heels, she was in her element. Elle had been roped into coat check duty once again, her A-line LBD covered with an oversized red cardigan, which Penelope could have sworn she had seen before.

“Ahem,” Penelope cleared her throat, drawing Elle back to the present. Penelope draped her arm over Elle’s shoulders and leaned in. “Let’s just keep it kosher, tonight, Rookie.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Elle side-eyed Penelope.

“No five finger discounts on my watch, Greenaway.” The blonde woman stated out-right, “This is sacred space, besides I doubt we’re going to find a stash among the parents and alumni.”

“I would argue that,” Elle smirked. “But what would be the point? I’ll behave, Pen, trust me.”

“Ms. Garcia?” A soft, yet urgent voice caught the women off guard. “Ms. Garcia, Michel is having an anxiety attack about performing in front of their parents. Please come talk them down?” Jacob Hernandez was in costume, the first layer of stage makeup had been applied to his equine features. Penelope held out her gloved hand to the teenager and he dutifully escorted her to the dressing rooms below the stage.

Elle eagerly filled in for the never-off-the-clock counselor and worked up a sweat hustling coats and check tags back and forth. Whether due to integrity or distraction, she kept her promise.

7:12pm

Aaron Hotchner was running behind, much to his annoyance. He had triple checked the diaper bag and double checked that Haley had her phone with her. He had sent terrorists to jail; he could certainly handle a few hours alone with a newborn. Haley deserved a break and he missed his school. He snapped the car seat in place and double checked all the mirrors.

“Please, stay asleep, please stay asleep.” He hummed to himself as he drove on the dark winding streets of Quantico. NPR was a muted soundtrack to begin  the father and son’s night out. Being the Headmaster had its benefits, like a personalized parking space near the entrance. Aaron pulled into the parking lot with time to spare before curtains up.

He awkwardly managed the car seat, the overstuffed diaper bag and his long dress coat. His dark eyebrows drawn in concentration, as he passed the frazzled Spanish teacher. He knew Kate and Chris were holding him a seat, allowing him to bypass the ticket counter and extra stops before making their way into the theatre. Jack remained asleep beneath the draped blanket over his state-of-the-art hooded child protection carrier.

“Oh, Aaron,” Kate chuckled, flitting down the stairs from the second tier seating. “Need a hand?” She asked, leaning in for a single armed hug.

“I feel like I have been in the gym with Morgan,” Aaron muttered beneath his breath, gratefully handing the petite brunette his son. She easily slipped the handle in the crook of her arm and marched back to her row. Some parent stopped Aaron and offered a firm handshake and a quick congratulations before he could get settled into his seat.

Suddenly a knowing voice called to him, “I know you didn’t bring an infant to the the show,” Monica Walker appeared at Aaron’s arm. Her hand was on her hip and a lovely ivory dress draped over her figure, her meticulously braided hair was pulled on top of her head with delicately jeweled strands.

“The second he wakes, I’m gone,” Aaron swore, hand raised as if taking an oath. He reached over and patted her hand affectionately. “Good to see you, Mon. How’s Stephen doing?”

“He’s ready for the show to run its course,” Monica added quieter, “The holidays and the harpies have added to the stress this year.”

“Yeah, I’ve read the emails.” Aaron agreed, Kate looked back and forth between the pair. “Thanks for sharing him with us and the kids.”

“You’re lucky it’s only one more week, Aaron,” She smiled and returned back to her box seat. Being married to the musical director also had its perks.

7:23pm

“Thanks, Penelope.” Stephen’s deep voice sent the elegant blonde off back towards the audience. Michel, Jake and Director Blake were all huddled with the tall man back stage, ensuring that cues were set for their opening night. Jake smiled easily now that his romantic interest (in the play) was soothed and costumed, wig and all.

“Okay, why don’t you both circle up the stragglers and we will do a quick moment before curtain?” Alex asked, sending the teenagers off in different directions. She wore her hair up in a simple twist and a dark, yet functional pant suit. Stephen Walker, who would be in the pit and visible throughout the performance, wore a full tuxedo with tails. He was very dashing, his white gloves tucked safely in his breast pocket until he took his conductor’s podium.

“I swear, the nerves are worse than when I played Lincoln Center.” Stephen confided as Alex read over her notes pinned on her clip board.

She hummed, a stray strand of hair falling out of its confines. He instinctively reached down and tucked it behind her ear. She bit her bottom lip, smiling calmly back at him. He nodded and she suddenly returned to desperately scrambling through her notes. The cast and crew filled in around them, the anticipation palpable as the anxious voices cut off with one small pale fist held in the air for quiet.

“Let’s go show these city folks a good time!” Alex Blake called out in her best drawl.

Dec.14, 2016 3:56pm

The atmosphere was thick with the untold as Spencer snaked into the library that afternoon for a staff meeting. It was doubly perplexing as HM Hotchner was seated beside Coach Morgan as the remaining staff filed in. Spencer was near the back beside Stephen and Mrs. Kyle.

“Thank you all for being here today, despite the chaos of the coming holidays.” Aaron began, “I wish I could say I was here because I missed you all, which I did, but unfortunately that is not what brings me here today.”

He looked down at the desk for a few beats before continuing with a slight waver to his usually impeccable diction. “Last night, one of our students, Hannah Chang swallowed a bottle of pain killers in attempt to end her life.” The gasps and murmurs echoed around the stunned table.

“Attempt? That means she’s alive?” Penelope begged, grasping for absolution.

“She is alive,” Aaron continued. “Her parents are working with her doctors and she will return when she is healthy enough to do so.”

“It’s a damn shame; that girl is really gifted.” Stephen muttered, Spencer nodded, keeping his eyes at the head of the table.

“Now, I am sure the students and their parents will be all over this situation. It is our job to keep Hannah’s privacy and protect her from the backlash when she is able to return to school.” Aaron continued.

“Sir?” Emily started, “May we send a card to Hannah? Would that be appropriate?”

“I think that would be great,” Aaron nodded, obviously impressed.

“Ooo! I know we’ll each send her a card a day at a time, that way it doesn’t all come at one time.” Penelope gushed, through sniffles. Derek was holding her hand beneath the table, her bracelets jangling as she wiped the tears back. It was in the awkward silence after arranging the calendar of well wishing that everyone realized that Coach Jareau had remained silently crying in her seat.

“Jayge?” Emily crooned, gently rubbing her back. Spencer clenched his fist and hid it beneath the table, he was frustrated that Jennifer was upset and he couldn’t do a thing to fix it.

Coach Jareau took in a few ragged breaths and began, “Hannah plays on my girls’ team each Spring. And, uh, I have some unresolved feelings with my older sister’s suicide. So,” she exhaled through a pointed stare,”I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to contribute much today, Hotch.”

“Of course, Coach, of course,” Aaron offered. “Coach Morgan? Why don’t you deliver the profile, how’s the school been in my absence?”

5:39pm

Aaron Hotchner knocked gently on the guidance office door after he had caught up with his second in command. Penelope had the lights off, but he caught her silhouette from the faint glow of her computer monitor.

“Just let me wallow, sir.” Penelope whimpered. Aaron flicked the light switch, jarring all of their pupils for longer than expected. “I keep reading over my documentation, what could I have done differently?”

“Nothing, you did everything correctly, in fact, you went above and beyond for Hannah.” Aaron dropped into one of the soft, plush chairs that Penelope had salvaged from a thrift shop.

“But I let you down,” Penelope whispered, an anguished confession.

“In no way what so ever,” Aaron retorted matter of factly. “Penelope Garcia, when you applied for this job you gave me your resume on homemade pink stationary.” He smiled. “I realized then that you were, unique. I wouldn’t want you to change that, especially not now. These kids need you.”

“But what if I’m not enough?”

“You’re job isn’t to be everything to everyone. It is to help these students as much as you can while you can.” Aaron paraphrased, almost rambling. It was then that Penelope looked over and saw how tired her boss actually was. Both physically and mentally.

“Sir?” Penelope asked, as his dark eyes drooped. Before long, Penelope giggled over the rhythmic snores of her superior. She sent Derek a text, letting him know she was staying late, that they would finally have their second date, soon. She grabbed a tinsel lined gel pen and set out to write the first of many get well cards to her dear Hanz.

Dec. 16, 2016 3:15pm

The outdated speaker system crackled to life throughout the wooden corridors and drafty classrooms that final day before holiday recess.

“Good Afternoon Submariners!” The headmaster’s voice reverberated with an accompanying hiss. “We wish you a safe and happy holiday season. Let’s leave 2016 in the past and clear out early. Classes are dismissed!”

The chorus of hoots and cheers were an audible row of dominoes, class doors bursting opening with the stampede of two hundred-some teenagers peeling towards their vacations.

Brayden was at Chloe’s locker when she got out of her class with Ms. Prentiss, Survey of Poetry and Prose. She hadn’t been returning his texts or calls and wished she could become invisible on demand. He already made her feel so small, it wasn’t that much too ask. She readjusted her backpack and unsuccessfully avoided her ex-boyfriend.

“Chloe, come on. You can’t just ignore me, I’m standing right here.” Brayden had turned and faced her as she dropped off her books and plucked her puffy winter coat off its hook. She closed her locker and turned to look at him. He was gorgeous in the way a feral kitten was, an unstoppable energy danced in his eyes. He was still growing into his body, but she knew him and despite all the fear and sharp words; she missed him.

“Bray, you have got to let me go.” Chloe murmured, looking away from the hurt in his eyes.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Brayden pulled at her elbow, as she turned away. “No, Chloe, how can I make this up to you? I need you.”

“You can’t. It’s done.” Chloe spoke louder, staring into his desperate glare.

The second floor had been cleared of students, so Coach Jareau and Miss Greenaway had made their way to the first to help ensure everyone had an early start to break. JJ caught Emily’s tense stance, following her line of sight to the lockers at the end of the T hallway. Brayden Jennings and Chloe Roycewood were having some sort of confrontation, amplified by the small patches of students leaving them ample space as they passed by.

The three women watched the exchange on baited breath, suddenly Lucas Turner, Zachary Henkel and Michel Foyet showed up. They stood behind Chloe, eyeing Brayden suspiciously.

“Chloe?” Lucas’s gentle voice unnaturally louder in the nearly empty corridor.

Chloe closed her eyes, knowing this was it. “Hey, Lucas, ready to go?” She pulled her arm back and turned to walk with her friends. Lucas and Michel encased Chloe between them. While little Zachary Henkel peered over his shoulder at the now furious Brayden as the four walked away. A small tribe of khaki and navy protecting their own.

“That’s not going to bode well.” JJ admitted once the scene had cleared.

“I’m glad Chloe finally got away from him, though.” Emily posed.

“Let’s just hope she did.” Elle added suspiciously, her arms still crossed over her chest.

3:47pm

Jason Gideon had missed the early release, as he was showing an excerpt from the movie Evita to his Central and South Amercian History class. Meaning, he was still asleep when the last student ducked into the noisy hallways and into holiday break. He quietly flipped the chairs on to the tables to prepare for the deep cleaning Grant Anderson and his team would do during the students’ absence.

Just as Mr. Gideon was gathering his brief case and coat a determined knock hit the door frame. Jason spun and nearly smiled when he caught the approach of Matt Cruz, father to Iggy and little Rita.

“Mr. Cruz, what do I owe the pleasure?” he approached the cautious man with gusto. “The Regents aren’t keeping you running over the holidays, I hope.”

Mateo Cruz smiled without teeth, “Not quite officially, Jason.”

Jason held up his hands he had been worrying, “What can I do for you?”

“I stopped by to offer some advice,” Matt continued despite Jason’s quizzical expression. “Come New Year, you need to be teacher of the year, otherwise, Strauss will not hesitate to force you into early retirement.”

Jason nodded, a glib expression as he took in the growing threat. “Like mother, like daughter?”

“Something like that.”

“Alright, message received,” Jason returned to his coat. “Tell the family I send my best?”

Matt sighed, relieved to have the confrontation behind them. “Of course. Happy Hanukkah, Jason.”

“Merry Christmas, Matt.”

Very Special Thanks to Cassie @mentallydatingspencerreid,

Meg @imagicana , and Loki @jodiewhittakers!!!

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