#i can generally even deal with it because it's not even /that/ much.

[seasidefallenangel]

now say i'm the only one you need

ranking the bllk men on how good of a boyfriend they are ft. isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu, michael kaiser, alexis ness

song from here listen to it to get a kiss from me

༄ isagi: 10/10

one third of the “perfect boyfriend trio.” he’s incredibly attentive of all your needs and overall is very good at balancing his soccer career with your relationship. dictionary definition of “walk him like a dog.” anything you say goes and he’s more than happy with things being that way. actually has a pretty high tolerance for whatever things you might put him through, he tends to be good at solving problems before they can spiral out of control. the most you’ll have to deal with is the fact he can be kind of on the more awkward and shy side of things, unsure how to really be in a relationship. he wasn’t really popular or well known at all before blue lock, so at most he had crushes that were one-sided. his friends joke and tease about how you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. he doesn’t even care that they’re right.

༄ bachira: 9/10

the thing with bachira is that you’re not gonna date him unless you’re okay with all of his quirks, so there’s really nothing “bad” or unexpected going into the relationship. at his worst he can be clingy and a smidge overbearing, but he’s terrified of you deciding you want something more, better than him. he’s very easy going because of this, and really won’t have any disagreements with whatever ideas strike you. you’re actually a rock in this life, and he feels safe confiding all the thoughts clawing at his mind when he’s being held in your arms. despite what people may think, he does have a calmer temperament to him - generally after practice or late at night. he’s a big cuddle bug and will most likely fall asleep on your stomach, clinging to you so you can’t leave him.

༄ chigiri: 5/10

rose-glasses off, chigiri kinda sucks. he’s very selfish without the whole egoist thing going on, and it’s confirmed in canon that a lot of people get turned off by his personality after being drawn in by his looks. he obviously has some interest in you if you’re dating, but that doesn’t mean his bad traits magically go away. his mindset is very “me before you.” if you’re arguing he’s going to bring up points for the sole purpose of hurting you because he has to be right. he has too much pride to admit when he's wrong but also to apologize for his actions. on the opposite side of that, though, is compliments and the like are easy for him to give you. he’s pretty open with his opinions so if he likes a certain thing about you he has no qualms with telling you as such. he would never deny you're dating and generally likes to show you off, wanting everyone to know he bagged an incredible person. he’s not the worst person to date, but it probably won’t be worth anything as a long term relationship.

༄ nagi: 6/10

nagi is my favorite character and that’s why i need to say this. he does have some merit for what it’s worth. he’s very physically affectionate and is also really easy to be around. i see him as being more open to compromise if you’re stern enough with him. he might complain a bit but he’s not that hard to convince. the biggest issue with him is that he just… doesn’t care. if he goes to a new cafe with you it’s cause you asked him, not because he wanted to. it’s not that he doesn’t love you, he just doesn’t process things like this in his brain. the concept of ‘doing things for your partner before they ask’ doesn’t click. he’s not a mind reader, so isn’t just being vocal about what you want the easiest? he doesn’t really expect much from you as a partner so easily grows confused at why you have these random demands and expectations from him when you know exactly how he is. it might not be a dealbreaker, but it does make you question if he’s ever actually enjoying his time with you.

༄ reo: 8/10

reo’s biggest issues are 1.) he's absurdly jealous and 2.) his money. the thing with his money is the fact he uses it almost as a deflector of sorts. if you have a genuine problem you need to sort out with him, he's giving you new jewelry, designer bags, dinners at michelin star restaurants instead of talking it out. he doesn’t want to give you the chance to bring up your displeasure in regards to something he’s done. it’s his default answer because it’s the only thing people have wanted from him. reo is actually very scared of conflict. he’s worried you’ll leave him at the first sign of him not being the picture perfect boyfriend that’s expected from him, which ties into the jealousy. if someone has a trait you admire, he’ll mold himself to fit that thing you seem to like.  he hates when you even acknowledge other people’s talents or attractive features  (save for nagi.) speaking of nagi, it’s played out but i do believe he’s the only person reo will share you with. if nagi wants to cuddle, kiss, act like your boyfriend, reo has no issue as long as he’s involved too. when you’re someone reo truly loves, he’ll let you do pretty much anything to him with no repercussions. it’s very easy to take advantage of him as long as you promise stay by his side.

༄ rin: 7/10

no matter how much he denies it, rin tries very hard to be sae. he wants to be the nonchalant boyfriend, never losing his cool and making it seem like you’re always running back for more. in truth, he couldn’t be more obvious about how badly he needs you. he has this sort of non-stop identity crisis going so he’s going to have this front of “fine with you, fine without you.” he wants you to think he doesn’t need you that bad because he’s worried you’ll see him as weak. the thing that makes it obvious is that when you’re threatening to leave because he’s just too hot and cold, he caves instantly. teeth gritted, he’ll ask what you want him to change, what kind of person should he be for you? after sae, he became so desperately starved for love that the second you started dating  he felt like he was suffocating, always needing your validation but unable to ask for it. similarly to reo, he’s easy to take advantage of if you insinuate that you’re unhappy with something currently in your relationship. be gentle because you can break him apart and he’ll always think it was his fault.

༄ sae: 9/10

i’m gonna go against the grain and say that sae is actually a great boyfriend because he wouldn’t bother getting into a relationship to begin with if he didnt think it’s worth his time. he’s an incredibly self assured person so he has no reason to be all wishy-washy with who he’s interested. sae’ll make it clear he wants to date you and obviously you’re reciprocating because duh, he’s sae itoshi. from the get go he’ll remind you that soccer is his career, his lifeblood, and while he loves you more, his priorities lay there. the fact he straight up admits it instead of letting it become a festering issue is exactly why he’s so good because neither of you will have wasted time in the relationship. he’s also easier to talk to than one might think. sae generally believes drawn out arguments are pointless  and wasting energy on them doesn’t help anyone, so any that you two have are squashed pretty quickly. affection comes pretty easily to him but he can be a little emotionally absent at his worst. it’s not really something that changes over time, but he has other methods of making sure you know he adores you. it’s very “what you see is what you get.” if you’re acquainted with him at all, there’s really no negative surprises or unexpected twists that put a damper on the romance between you both. if nothing else, he makes sure the whole world know exactly who you belong to, and it leaves you with no room to doubt he plans to keep you by his side forever.

༄ karasu: 10/10

one third of the “perfect boyfriend trio.” this is generally a shock to people who know the kind of company he keeps around but the thing is that karasu doesn’t approve of otoya’s behavior. he goes from insinuating otoya could be doing better things with his time than leading girls on to flat out telling him he’s pathetic for not holding down a relationship. most of the girls who have their hearts broken by otoya fall in love with karasu right after from how kindly he treats them and the way he apologizes for his friends nasty habits. karasu holds a lot of respect for you as a person since he’s attracted to people he can analyze and read into. a common bonding activity is just him asking your opinions on certain topics or how you’d approach a theoretical situation and he’ll sit back and listen, trying to dig into your mind. he’s also very self aware of his flaws and will admit he isn’t perfect but is always working to better himself (“his weakness is that he can't be nice to people he thinks are mediocre and knows he needs to fix that.”) it’s not like you’ll never have issues, but he always resolves them in a way that doesn’t add tension or doubt to your relationship. he’s also good with all 5 love languages and prefers to show them all to you, but if you have ones you prefer or dislike then he can easily adjust. he’s always listening to you, learning about you, wanting to be the best version of himself he can for you.

༄ otoya: 6/10

the glaring bone of contention with otoya is obvious to anyone who knows him - but not in the way you think. otoya can be a good boyfriend if he wants ; he knows what girls like, what makes them happy, how to keep them satisfied. he’s had enough practice for it to be second nature. once you're in a genuine relationship with him, he’s going to treat you pretty well. thing is - that’s exactly his problem. in the back of your head you know why he’s so good at this. you know you’re an idiot for thinking you can change him despite the fact you did. it’s just impossible to believe. every time he tries to reassure you that yes, you’re his only, he doesn’t want to go back to his old ways, you’re just staring at him thinking to yourself, ‘wonder how many times he’s used this line on someone.’ you’re just never going to have a sense of security with him because there’s always this lingering "what if" bouncing around. the worst part is that it’s not an unreasonable line of thought. mindless paranoia is one thing, but there’s so much proof against him that you’d be more humiliated for assuming he isn’t cheating on you - you can’t date a serial cheater and be really that mad or shocked if he does. you know what you signed up for accepting his confession, so your entire viewpoint is that it’s a matter of ‘when’ and not ‘if’. you can never ever say with full confidence he's 100% yours, even when he is.

༄ yukimiya: 10/10

one third of the “perfect boyfriend trio.” i know it’s like beating a dead horse since this is a commonly shared sentiment but he really is incredible. a big part of the reason why is actually the fact he’s emotionally mature. he’s in tune with how he feels and knows how to convey it respectfully but isn’t so set in his ways he can’t see what points you want to make if you were to disagree on something. something else is that he’s very good at reading your micro-behaviors and can fall in line pretty well with how you act without compromising his own personality (in comparison to how someone like bachira or alexis would.) if you tend to be on the shyer side, not really one to defend yourself, he has no issue stepping in and solving whatever problem is going on. on the flip if you are more outgoing and not scared to bite at people then he'll fall back, only intervening when he can sense things’ll get ugly if he doesn’t tug on your leash a little bit. something he particularly enjoys doing is picking up hobbies or skills that you enjoy or would appreciate. he’ll learn how to cook if you hate it or asks you to read your favorite books to him at night, wrapped in his arms while he presses a gentle kiss against your temple. 

༄ kaiser: 4/10 to 8/10 

the thing with kaiser is that he’s a really good boyfriend, but you have to go through hell to get to that point. he has so many walls and has all these little “tests” where he tries to catch you using him for his money, status, looks, etc. kaiser wants to convince himself that love obviously isn’t real ; look at his parents for god’s sake. so he’s always trying to plan some “gotcha” thing and catch you in the act. the issue is, he doesn’t. you’re really like this from the bottom of your heart and he can’t wrap his head around that fact. so he goes to the emotion he knows best - anger. he’s lashing out at you for lying to him, accusing you of all sorts of things because surely there’s no way this is real, that he has something fully his, someone who cherishes him and sees him for his best. this entire process isn’t a few months either - this is a good two or three years. he has a lot of built up trauma to navigate both on his own and with you. if you somehow have the conviction to get through this then he’ll be a really incredible guy to have around. he loves you so fiercely that he’d rather die than let the one good thing he’s been gifted to slip from his fingers, but everyone in your life is going to hate him by then and insist he hasn’t changed, feeling like you’re going to eventually be broken by him.

༄ alexis: ?/10

alexis is actually pretty similar to bachira, just more extreme. in any other context, his obsessions would be viewed as something of concern or distasteful but dating alexis means you already would know about it and in turn only get into a relationship if you were okay with it. it’s not as if his attachment to kaiser is a secret. if you’re going in with the “i can fix him” mentality then you’ve doomed yourself already. you have to already accept his quirks and such to really reach him in a way that matters. a relationship with him is this unending back and forth. you're actually not really going to be viewed as this untouchable deity because he's already yours. he doesn't have to prove his worth like with kaiser. the thing is that kaiser molded who he is now so kaiser is kind of his tie to humanity - without him, alexis doesn’t really have much keeping him tied to earth. don’t think you’re not important to him because and he’s going to insane lengths for you to accept his unhealthy outlets of showing his love and devotion to you. he feels so much more human with you because you’re giving him the attention that he has to beg kaiser for but without the requirements to earn it - you just love him naturally. he’s not trying to prove that he deserves your love, he’s trying to prove that he loves you just as much back but he doesn’t know how to do it normally. he doesn’t know how to offer himself to you in a way that isn’t self destructive. he’s stuck in this non-stop cycle of you trying to convince him he doesn’t need to like earn your love and him thinking that it’s you saying he’s not doing enough to to earn your love and thus he goes to more extremes. if you can handle it then he’s great for you, you’ll never question that he’s madly in love with you. but if you get overwhelmed then he grows more unstable, and you’re stuck trying to make him better while he makes himself worse to hopefully get you to finally praise him for shattering who he is.

[tucsonhorse]

And even the more expensive ones are still a really good deal compared to a Target shopping trip!

One of my favorite museums is a science museum that has a general public entrance fee of $35 per adult. It's an unusually good Target trip if I can get out of there paying less than $35. AND the Target trip lasts me maybe an hour, and usually involves me looking at stuff and going "I want it and it looks fun but it's too expensive 😔". Whereas the last time I visited the science museum I think we spent like 3 hours there (there was still more to do but we got tired out) and I enjoyed it the whole time. I got to play with the interactive exhibits and learn lots of new things and even the exhibits about Indigenous culture and racism/the George Floyd protests which actually made me cry left me feeling emotionally satisfied in a way no Target trip ever has.

Also museums usually have good gift shops and you can get a neat little souvenir much less expensively than at Target while also having the positive emotion from your visit connected to that souvenir forever.

A museum doesn't have to be a bunch of art hanging on walls, and it doesn't have to be boring. If art isn't your thing, find a museum about something you do like. Enjoy building stuff? Visit a historical house and examine the structure and building style. Like cars or machinery? There are lots of car and machinery museums all over! Are you a farmer? It's a good bet there's a local historical museum/center that has at least one exhibit about farming. I am personally a bit biased but I think everyone can enjoy a natural history museum, they usually have good exhibits about animals and wildlife and geology and water systems, all kinds of stuff that everyone has in their daily life and may not think about often.

Seriously, search online for a museum about your interests. I found one not far away from where we live that is all about telecommunications which my husband gets really excited about. He has always said he doesn't like going to museums on vacation because they're boring, but he had a great time and loved that museum because it was about his interests (same for the science museum).

[archie-sunshine]

TRANSFORMERS STRAGGLERS BELOVED ALREADY. Now's your chance to go off about what's going on with the decepticons over there

EEE THANK YOU!! and YES, FINALLY I CAN RAMBLE ABOUT THE DECEPTICONS!!

sO, as i've said, i'm not the most familiar with the combaticons. but in my research, what's come up the most is that onslaught is a plans guy, a habitual tactician, a danny ocean, etc etc.

and so I have given him leadership of this base of decepticons.

and an impossible challenge.

i'm giving onslaught a crisis of faith about his own ability to plan.

IM PUTTING A CUT BECAUSE THIS IS REALLY LONG BUT ENJOY!

If the autobots stationed at this outpost are disorganized, the decepticons are a mess. None of them are ready for the war to be over, none of them are ready to be STUCK HERE, none of them are ready to be at PEACE with the AUTOBOT SCUM they've been fighting against for almost YEARS NOW.

The general dynamic is that onslaught is really good at being the leader of the combaticons, but he is less good at being the leader of other bots outside of his team because he hasn't focused on building a rapport with any of them. The simple fact is that he assumed they would all be leaving this outpost soon enough, and so didn't bother to bridge the gap between his team members.

He butts heads often with deadlock- because deadlock hates taking orders- but his relationship with slipstream is even worse.

Slipstream is a stealth jet, she's a loner who prefers to just do her job and keep a low profile. She was given this job as an easier placement following a particularly bad failed espionage mission. She was told she would only be making strafing flights for surveillance purposes and occasionally assisting in basic maintenance or sabotage. And then the base received a trio of new seekers and Onslaught, not knowing seekers as well, made her their wing commander arbitrarily.

Those seekers were the rainmakers, a pack of codependant, antisocial, sadistic outlier experiments with incredibly poor social skills who immediately magnetized to her like a bunch of creepy cats. She hates all three of them so much, while they adore following her around and observing her (as in this continuity they're pretty fresh out of the test tube and have lacked any socialization outside of shockwave and being brought to battles.)

Deadlock on the other hand was kicked off of a more elite team by Megatron as punishment for killing his superior officer. He was previously a favourite assassin of Megatrons, and so Deadlock is now seething and holding a massive grudge against the warlord for not only banishing him, but then immediately rolling over and conceding the war right after. He's all knotted up with anger about everything that's going on, when of course, what should happen but the doctor that saved him reappearing!!

yes, yes, stragglers ratchlock real.

While the rest of the crew are bickering and raging about the war being over, Ambulon couldn't be more thrilled about it. He's one of the first on the decepticon side who really embraces the peace. He gets picked on frequently (mostly by the rainmakers, again, more about them to come) and sees his status as a decepticon as barring him from ever fully becoming a legitimate doctor. With the war over, he is the first that begins to mingle with the autobots by way of tutoring under ratchet, and commiserating with first aid.

The combaticons are also a complex lot, with each of them having their own despair surrounding the end of the war.

Vortex is aghast at the end of the fighting. He finds himself breaking into fits of destruction between long periods of apathy. Though he's mostly a character who is used for comedy here, he still struggles with feeling aimless and constantly bored without the war. He and whirl also have a mutually destructive pseudo 'friendship' where they beat the ever living shit out of each other for seemingly no reason.

Swindle is understandably distraught, seeing as his entire business as an arms dealer just went tits up on the cybertronian side. For much of the beginning of the story swindle would be refusing to leave his room, pitching a huge fit about everything being ruined. Eventually, he would be one to advocate for peace with the other base, if only for the financial opportunities it could present.

Brawl is arguably the least affected by the end of the war. He's not stupid, but he is simple, so he knows as long as his fellas are around he's going to be able to find work, and they'll probably just go back to being mercenaries. What really annoys brawl is more the fact that they're stuck here. he's usually the first to jump at an opportunity to fight, and is the one who objects the most when the group finally is forced to work with the autobots. It also goes without saying that he is fiercely loyal to Onslaught, and is usually the first to agree with his boss.

Blast off is conflicted. He is deeply enamoured with onslaught, and admires his leadership skills very much. He is Onslaught's second in command, and he holds that title proudly. He is reserved, and quiet, distant from his teammates despite being incredibly loyal to them. He struggles between feeling relieved that the war is over, and knowing his crew would likely all rather be fighting. He also struggles with a great deal of guilt, knowing that if he really wanted to, he could leave, but he'd be leaving his crew behind.

AND finally, ASTROTRAIN shows up a couple 'episodes in', crashlanding on their planet on his way back to cybertron. Immediately, the decepticons leap to help fix him up and try to brownnose to get him to give them a lift back home. HOWEVER, astrotrain has been doing a lot of thinking on his way back home. He's realizing how much of his life has been spent ferrying people around not getting any time for himself, just being a glorified taxi service for a load of ungrateful jerks....

and then he looks out at this beautiful quiet organic planet with a nice big energon vein, far off from cybertron and all his nagging bosses... and he goes.

"I quit. and im staying right here actually."

:D

BUT YEAH!! thats sort of the deal of all the cons right now, i'll update with drawings of all of them when i can!!

[cheol-e-kat]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉, 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. 𝒌.𝒎𝒈

pairing:   kim mingyu / f!reader 

summary:  y/n just wants to settle into the place she is subletting from soonyoung, but sadly, the sublet is for her and a roommate whom she hasn’t even met - soonyoung’s mysterious friend ‘mingyu’ 

but mingyu can’t even be bothered to show up for coffee, much less to pick a couch for their shared space

worse, she has to deal with an asshole at work when all she wants is some peace and quiet and her own bedroom

genre: roommates au, workplace au, unreliable narator

characters: porn actor!mingyu, bartender!mingyu, makeup artist!reader

word count: 2.9k

rating: 18+, mdni, explicit

warnings below cut

warnings: drinking, explicit language, penetrative sex, messy sex, slight noona kink, implied role play

she had given up texting ‘mingyu’ - she hadn’t even met him, so she felt like she could pretend he was barely a real person, especially since he was climbing the list of her worst roommates so far. 

he was allegedly a friend of soonyoung’s and meant to be subletting his apartment with her, but so far, she’d literally seen nor heard from him. she was starting to think he was soonyoung’s alter ego, à la fight club. 

but she really couldn’t be bothered to keep trying his mobile when she had work to do - a job she had agreed to take only after her friend begged her. she wasn’t really one for being on set for porn films, especially when it was crowded and there were so many dicks swinging freely. she generally worked on set for magazines where the dicks were at least covered to some degree or being shown off tastefully. 

from what she could gather, it was a giant casting call - there were ‘stars’ and hopefuls all lining up to get photos taken, audition, and even to be filmed in a single day. it seemed more based on the fact that the location was only rented for two days than anything else. 

she had been there for hours - her feet were tired - she was tired. and the guy in her chair was obviously tired since he kept nodding off. 

she had glanced at the sheet he brought along - a short description of what needed doing. for him, they wanted a ‘dewy’ look with a very ‘rosy’ cock. she had seen ‘wet’ looks, and ‘grunge’ looks, but ‘dewy’ was certainly new. she wondered who picked these adjectives.

initially, she hoped to work around the fact that he was tired, but she finally gave him a gentle poke in the cheek. “hey, sleeping beauty, can you just sit up a bit for me?” she asked, trying to be gentle.

he sat up, shooting her an annoyed look as he did. she set about trying to capture ‘dewy.’ but he slumped again and caused her to streak foundation across his face.

she wanted to scream.

she shook his arm. “hey - seriously, i need you to sit up for this,” she said sternly as she started to clean up her mistake and try to salvage things within her timeframe. 

he apparently used the time she was correcting things to stew because when she was kneeling down to attempt this whole ‘rosy’ cock business, he muttered something about her just being a makeup artist.

she shot him a sharp look. “right, i’m just the one in charge of making you and your cock look as good as possible on film so that maybe you get this job - so completely pointless, right?” 

she rolled her eyes, wondering where some random guy at a casting call for ‘big dicks 19’ got off thinking he had any business commenting on anything she did. even if he was hot. and had a nice dick.

 she had dealt with plenty of assholes and was in no mood. she was quick finishing, using a bit of glitter spray in strategic spots to highlight his natural build - she wasn’t going to half-ass anything just because he was a cunt. and then she was done and waving him along to whoever else he wanted to be an ass to that day. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

and after working her magic on what felt like a million sweaty bodies, she got to pack up and go home. she had the only key to the apartment right now. she hadn’t had the chance to put her bed together or really unpack, even - but she happily flopped on her makeshift bed, aka her mattress on the floor. she took a quick nap before waking up, ordering some dinner, and taking a fast shower while she waited for food to arrive. 

she didn’t bother trying to catch up with mingyu again. she wasn’t that worried, especially since he was already paying his half of things. for all she cared, he could never move in - that would suit her just fine. 

she did call soonyoung, though, to let him know his friend was still a no-show. 

soonyoung had hummed, “i mean, i know where to find him - i would have thought he would have shown up by now - i know he hates his current roommate.” he sounded perplexed. 

“i mean, i don’t hate having the place to myself,” she said with a laugh.

he sighed. “fair, but i’m leaving in a few days - you two should at least meet before i’m out of the country.” she could hear the not-so-subtle suggestion in his voice.

“i guess send me an address,” she groaned. 

she had had no plans of going out. in fact, she had planned to enjoy being totally alone in a gorgeous apartment that she was so far only paying half the rent of. 

instead, she was getting dressed for some bar - she had looked it up. there wasn’t a dress code, but it was on the fashionable side. she felt like she had an outfit that would work, actually - insanely high-waisted trousers, cute bralette, vintage leather jacket, platform heels, and chunky earrings. 

she had maybe been rewatching killing eve and channeling the feels she had for villanelle’s wardrobe. she slicked her hair back a bit and was ready to meet her mysterioso roommate. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

she grabbed a cab and met soonyoung outside the bar. it had a hole-in-the-wall vibe, except for the fact that she noticed several people she had worked with, as in people who got in front of the camera. but soonyoung seemed to know how to skip the line, opting for going in through the backdoor.   

inside, it was really busy and definitely cramped. it was poorly lit, as any good bar should be, and there was the warmth that came from too many people in too small a space. a girl was walking around offering to take polaroids - a cute touch. they managed to order drinks before anything. 

she sighed, watching people wander by, flashing brilliant smiles as they went off to dance or whatever else one might get up to in a bathroom. 

after two drinks and the day she had had, she was pulling soonyoung away from a conversation to ask where mingyu was in the crush of people around them. it was why she was there, after all. 

“which one is he?” she all but shouted her question.

he glanced around and finally oriented himself enough to point towards the bar. “he’s the tall one with black hair and no tattoos.”

she glanced towards the bar and groaned at what felt like a sea of people separating her from it. she thought soonyoung was going to introduce them, but he was engrossed in catching up with a friend. 

she was left to make her way through the crowd - to her, it was like taking the train, she leaned with the crowd so she didn’t get crushed by it. 

and when she finally made it to the bar, she was relieved that there was only one tall guy with black hair and no tattoos. but when she made eye contact with him, her mood dropped through the floor. 

mr. dewy-skin-rosy-cock.

he seemed to make the same connection, flushing and deftly swapping positions behind the bar with one of the other bartenders. which only worked to irk her. she might have been in shock, but to see him actively avoid her only worked to renew her irritation. 

once again, she wondered, who the fuck was he? slinking away like some ridiculous little boy who had gotten caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. 

she was quick to glance around for something to get his attention. but not seeing anything fitting, she fished one of the very perfect oversized ice cubes out of her drink and threw it.

she watched it fly through the air, almost in slow motion. she bit her lip gently, knowing it would hit him - just not knowing how perfectly.

it hit him squarely in the back of the neck, just above his shirt collar. 

she almost giggled at how good of a shot it was. instead, she quickly glanced down at her drink, stirring it innocently, before he had time to whip around and make eye contact with her. 

she sipped her drink before slowly looking up to see him staring at her, a look of complete disbelief coloring his face. 

his disbelief was replaced almost immediately. he looked like he possibly wanted to kill her. she smiled and gave a small wave, pointing to her drink for a refill.

it wasn’t like he could prove she had thrown the ice cube.

he stalked over, his eyes signaling rage despite his customer service smile. 

and before he could even ask what her drink was or reprimand her, she was leaning across the bar and introducing herself.

“i’m y/n - you’re new roommate,” she held out her hand in greeting, offering her best smile.

she was sure she could see his soul briefly leave his body at the realization. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 

she knew mingyu watched her sitting at the end of the bar. 

it was cute, though, that he kept refilling her drink. maybe a bit annoying that he seemed to water it down more and more. she just ordered a second one to counter it. 

she hung around, glad for her late nap she had taken. she was in the perfect mood to flirt with the other bartender, the one with tattoos and the aussie accent, especially as the crowd started to thin and he wasn’t as busy. 

he didn’t water down her drinks like some mother hen. 

and when she offered to show him a trick, he was game.

“bet,” he said with a laugh.

“bet what, though?” she asked cutely. “i know i can do it.”

he shook his head, “naur, love, i don’t believe you - you can’t tie a cherry stem with your tongue,” he watched her, his gorgeous eyes taking her in. 

she nodded. “but i can.” 

she smiled and popped the maraschino cherry between her lips, eating the fruit and holding onto the stem. he watched her, appraising the situation. 

“instead of a bet, what if i get a prize for doing it?” she whispered teasingly - she was loving his accent - she could only guess he would dick her down like there was no tomorrow. his black tshirt and jeans didn’t leave much to the imagination. 

she watched the cute smile that flitted across his lips, “yeah, love, anything you want.” he whispered, his voice low and sweet.

she was certain his words went straight to her pussy. still, she popped the cherry stem into her mouth and, after a few seconds of work, stuck her tongue out, the little knotted stem sitting perfectly on the tip of her tongue. 

“no way,” he whispered, laughing softly, genuinely surprised.

she laughed and held it out to him, “aren’t you glad you didn’t bet?”

he smiled, giving a soft nod. “impressive,” he whispered, taking the knotted stem. 

he glanced up at her and started to say something. 

but mingyu stepped in.

“hey, can you cash out the tab at the other end? it’s yours,” he said flatly. 

she pointedly watched him walk away before finally glancing at mingyu. 

“go home,” he muttered. 

she leaned on her hand, “why? i’m having fun.”

he was wiping the bar and shaking his head, “you’re just sticking around to bother me.”

“and why would i do that? i barely know you,” she pouted.

he shook his head again, “look, i’m sorry about earlier”—

“yesterday now, i think,” she interrupted.

he glared, “whatever,” he said in exasperation, “i’m sorry - i was tired and in a bad mood. i shouldn’t have been rude.”

“so you’re trying to cock block me because you’re sorry?” she was confused. 

but she saw the flush in his face. 

no, she smiled to herself, he was cock blocking her because he thought she was cute. so fucking cute, she thought.

“and what are you going to give me if i’m a good little girl and go home?”

he shook his head. “different game,” he muttered. 

she laughed softly, “tired of that one after today?”

he nodded, barely glancing up from what he was doing.

she put her hands flat on the bar, leaning a bit closer. “you’re so beautiful,” she whispered. 

she could see the way red crept back into his cheeks. she smiled softly, just a gentle curling of her lips, knowing she hit the right note. 

she leaned closer, her fingertips brushing his, “want me to go home and wait for you, gorgeous boy?” she bit her lip gently, her voice syrupy, “so i can take care of you after your long day, baby.” 

she watched the tiny nod he gave her. 

“closer,” he responded, his voice barely audible. he kept his gaze trained on the bar. 

she smiled. “you know where i am, at least.” she stood up to leave - she had already closed her tab. 

she didn’t mind leaving. she was glad to walk outside and feel the rush of fresh air. she had no clue when she would see him.

 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 

it was nice to be home again. even if she had fun, she was always tired after staying up past her bedtime. 

she took another shower and cleaned her face and teeth. she had dressed in a tshirt and underwear - just in time for her to hear a soft knock on the door. she grabbed an oversized cardigan and went to open the door. 

it was the first time she could genuinely look at him without the rush of anyone else’s schedule or their existence bothering her. she tilted her head, watching him. it wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how he looked the day before - it’s that she had been noticing him in a way that she needed to for work - what to highlight, what to conceal (barely anything). 

but now she could see that he looked tired. there was no customer service smile. just eyelids growing heavy, even as he was standing. she trailed her fingers gently along the door until she reached the handle and turned it slowly, quietly. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 

“did you take the bigger room?”

she glanced up from her phone, “maybe we can share,” she offered, sitting up. she watched him towel off - she smiled at the lazy way he let the towel drop to the ground. something about seeing him so easily expose himself was - she couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her lips. 

she leaned back on the bed, opening her legs wide for him, dragging her fingers along her already slick pussy lips. “come here,” she whispered. 

she bit her lip, watching him walk closer and drop to the bed. she grinned when he caught her thighs and pulled her down to him. 

he kissed her more softly than she expected. she thought he would be urgent and hungry. but he was soft and needy.

when he finally pulled away, sighing softly, “sorry, i didn’t text sooner.” 

he smiled as he said it. she shook her head, “liar.”

“but now i get you like this - all to myself - just you and me and your gorgeous cunt,” he teased.

she hadn’t known who he was the day before when she had given him a soft slap for being a bitch - she had loved the way he whined and pouted. 

they were already supposed to meet. 

she could feel his cock teasing her open. she pushed his shoulder. “lie back, let me fuck you.”

she straddled his hips and eased back slowly on his dick, moaning as she sank down, feeling his hands covering and squeezing her tits. her head dropped to the side - she knew she had done what she wanted, taking all of him. 

her head swam. his dick was somewhere deep in her stomach, she was certain. and when she started to slowly move, she heard his soft moans - his cute whining. she reached down, tracing her finger along his lips. “so perfect,” she smiled, pressing her fingers into his mouth. riding him slowly while he licked and sucked her fingers was, fuck, she almost considered edging herself to make it last. she pulled her fingers away from him, loving that he whimpered for her.

she picked up her pace, though, riding him faster. bouncing on him - his fingers digging into her hips, leaving red marks.

“yes, noona,” he whispered, “just like that - make me come,” he gasped softly as she started fucking him faster, wanting them to both come. 

she was breathless, “good, baby?” she could feel beads of sweat clinging to her skin.

he nodded, looking up at her dazedly, “harder,” he whined, guiding her hips downward, pushing her to take all of him. she cupped his cheek gently, nodding.

and with a moan, she reached for the wall behind him for leverage, “such a fucking brat,” she groaned in pleasure, loving the stretch she felt as she took his cock, even as her thighs were starting to burn. 

but then she felt it - she felt him - the heat of him filling her, just as she dropped down completely, her pussy clenching around him as she came too. 

and that was when he suddenly put her on her back, picking her thighs up, fucking into her fast and desperately. 

“come again,” he rasped, looking at her like he was demanding it - demanding that she come for him. 

he pounded into her until suddenly she was coming - she was coming. waves and waves of pleasure that were so delicious, she could practically taste it. and the lewd sounds coming from her pussy were the most perfect sounds. 

he fell against her. she hugged him and petted him. 

“so perfect, baby,” she whispered. 

a/n: if you don't play bingo with me i have to make my own and it is idk kind of fun ...smhhhhhh sighhhhhhhhhh - i'm lying btw...

♡ kat

♡ my [master list] if you want to read more

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, leave a comment

[ full master list ]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐞_𝐤𝐚𝐭

mingyu bingo reqs: lingerie + praise kink | bed sharing + big dick | praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | drunk pda + no underwear | enemies to lovers + tentacles | internet friends + blind date + size kink |

teasers: mingyuAI [ teaser i ] |୨୧| all but break your heart

drabbles: summer coworker | #kat_drabbles

angst: no blueberries master list (college au)

fluff: waiting to feel foolish (college au) |୨୧| never happened before (magical realism au) |୨୧| hoodies & candy (college au) |୨୧| no strings (magical realm au) [pt. 1]

smut: playing hearts (college au | camboy au) |୨୧| leave it open (monster!mingyu au) |୨୧| openly pining (stepbrother au)

[ taglist ] ☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎ @halavia [e - drab/one/multi] ☁︎ @haik-chu [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - one/multi/priv] ☁︎ @ninigyuuu [m - e, b.f. priv] ☁︎ @starlit-rin [m - one/multi, b.f.non] ☁︎

[jeanforestauthor]

Hey, My Book is Great and You Should Read it For Free

Hi there! I wrote a book, and I want to let you read it for free!

In The Princess and the Peaches we follow Ethan, a young man with a lot of heart, and not much spine, who is struggling to run a small failing grocery store after the untimely death of his parents. Ethan also has the misfortune of being a thoroughly Normal Guy in a world where fairytales are far more fact than fiction.

Ethan has always lived with the understanding that magic was quite firmly None of his Business, but when a wayward Princess falls victim to a curse inside his shop, he is informed by an iron-fisted Fairy Godperson that it has suddenly become Entirely his Business.

As a result, Ethan is forced to deal with flirtatious dragons, sadistic Princes, and more than a few deep seated insecurities.

So, you may be wondering, if this book is so great, why is it free? Well, because of my burning resentment for the stranglehold of capitalism on the accessibility of art. Uh, Marketing... or something. The point is, I think my book rules, and I wanted it to find people who also thought it ruled, so here it is!

You can access it on multiple e-reading platforms, including Apple and Smashwords here:

Or on Google Play here:

If you STILL aren't totally convinced, that's cool! I generously put the first three chapters under a read-more so you can check them out without even having to leave the safe harbor of Tumblr.

Copyright © 2025 by Jean Forest

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. 

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book Cover by Andrew Filion

First edition, 2025

Chapter 1

It was always the same dream.

For twenty-some years Ethan Green had enjoyed placid, peaceful sleep. He'd had boring, pointless dreams and loved it. Then everything had changed, and now, for four years, it had been the same stupid nightmare, every single night. He drifted through it, carried along in its insistent, unchanging rhythm.

He passed through the living room, warm and full of light. Meandered towards the door, his stride easy and unhurried. At this point, Ethan always somehow felt calm, even eager, despite knowing how this was inevitably going to end. Reflecting on it later, he knew it made a sad kind of sense. This was the only way he could see them now.

He heard them before he'd even reached the door. Laughter so deep and loud it sounded like trains passing outside the window. Then a quiet, lilting tone, rising and falling like birdsong.

With one twist of the handle, one swing of the door, he stepped out into the bright, sun drenched storefront, and for just a brief moment, everything felt right.

Ethan's gaze traveled over the deep velvety green of the walls, the worn pine floor, dappled with light. He looked at the big, arched windows, draped in the same old green gingham curtains, heard the quiet chatter of customers, and now, just like every time, he could swear he smelled the scent of sweet, ripe peaches.

And then came the moment he always anticipated. His view swept from the windows, to the neat, trim counter waiting at the front of the store, over the battered old till, up into the lively, animated face of his father.

He was exactly the way Ethan remembered him. Big as a bear and nearly as hairy, booming with laughter, his rough, calloused fingers almost too large for the spindly keys on the register. Ethan took in his twinkling eyes and crooked grin fervently, as if to fix every minute detail in his memory.

And then there, nestled in amongst the bins and barrels of fresh fruit was his mother, as small and willowy as his father was large, but no less intimidating. Her voice was bright, her movements brisk and efficient. Ethan watched her long, elegant hands tug trimly at the curtains and found himself remembering the way they'd often done the same at the collars of his shirts.

Ethan basked in this moment, like the sight of a sunset, brief and fleeting.

Because of course, it never lasted. It started with the windows, like Every. Single. Time. 

Small cracks, that began to spread, like ugly, spiraling spider webs, reaching greedily for the corners of the panes, until suddenly with a deafening crash, the air was full of cascading shards of glass.

As usual, his parents made no reaction, still cheerful, unshaken. Ethan always tried to reach them, even while knowing it was pointless.

"Dad!" He cried, working off the same unending script. "The windows! What's happening!?"

His father turned to him, a placid smile in place.

"It's alright, kiddo, don't worry. I know you can handle it." He replied in his deep, bass rumble.

Ethan stared down at his feet, shifting through the piles of shattered glass.

"But dad-"

Then the fruit would go. Where there was once jewel-bright piles of fresh, ripe produce, suddenly there would be putrid mounds of rotted fruit, their stench overpowering.

"Mom!? How did this-!?"

His mother would give him that soft, exasperated look, like he'd forgotten to comb his hair again.

"Ethan, it's okay, honey. We know you'll take care of it."

And then came the groaning, rending sound of splintering wood, and Ethan's heart would drop into his stomach. The long beams overhead would begin to tear, shaking dust from the ceiling. Every inch of the walls would begin to crack and buckle.

Ethan would look to his parents, still blissfully smiling back at him.

"Everything's falling apart! Can't you see it!? Come on, help me!" He'd cry.

"Ethan calm down," His mother would laugh, "Everything will be fine."

"Yeah kiddo," His father would add with a grin, "You'll just need to take care of it."

And like every time, Ethan would find himself brought up short, paralyzed. He'd stand in the midst of the destruction, his whole life going to ruins around him, and he'd be useless. 

"You can do it." His father would add, with such perfect, maddening certainty.

"But..." Ethan muttered, as always, his voice strangely clear among the chaos. "But I don't know how."

Ethan awoke, a few seconds before his alarm, like always, just a little too late to stop it from going off. It's grating, jangling tones piercing straight into the center of Ethan's brain.

He levered himself out of bed immediately. A Green did not snooze, he told himself wearily, not when there was work to be done. Ethan had never once in his life slept past the alarm and today was no exception. 

Groggily, he shuffled into the bathroom and stared at his reflection. There was that curly mop of comb-destroying hair. There were those same, tired brown eyes. A nose a little too long, a mouth a little too feminine, a frame far, far too scrawny.

Nothing new here.

He went through his usual routine, dressing in the same white shirt, and the same green slacks he wore just about every day of his adult life. He slipped on the same, stiff loafers, and then… Well, then the apron.

He'd thought he'd have gotten used to it by now. He'd seen it on his parents since he was a child. He'd worn it himself since he was a teenager. But somehow, it still managed to give him pause. Probably because it was hideous.

Family legend said that his great grandmother had chosen the color because it reminded her of springtime, of freshness. Most people Ethan knew would never in their wildest dreams have come to these associations. Looking at it, the words of Ethan's best friend ran through his head. 

"If that's fresh anything, it's fresh vomit. Unhealthy vomit. Go to the doctor, something's gone wrong, vomit."

But... It had been a family tradition for generations. It was the Green family's trademark.

And so, dutifully, Ethan put it on, tying it in a tight double knot, even though it made it near impossible to get off later. It was what he always did. It was how it had always been done.

With heavy feet, he trudged downstairs, into the living room.

In truth, it looked almost no different from his dreams. Everything was still in its place, untouched, as it had been for four years now. A few low couches, huddled around the room, a tall bookshelf standing sentinel in the corner, a battered TV sitting silent nearby. The same pictures, arrayed on the mantelpiece, familiar faces staring out. It was exactly the same, an almost perfect monument to the way things used to be... except.

It was so empty. Ethan had managed to preserve every inch of the room, as though nothing had changed, but somehow, like sand slipping through his fingers, he hadn't been able to keep the life that had once existed here, the almost palpable feel of warmth and joy. Now, absence seemed to hang like dust in the air. 

Well, that wasn't the only change. Slowly, Ethan made his way over to the bookshelf, and ran his fingers over the glossy, cool stone of the urn sitting high on its shelves. He muttered a quiet, customary, "Good morning." For a moment he forgot his rituals, forgot his duties, and let himself get lost.

The soft tinkle of the bell on the other side of the door jarred him out of his reverie though. There wasn't really time to pause, he reminded himself. With brisk, purposeful steps, he crossed the room and exited out of the dim, musty corners of his home, and into the bright halls of the storefront.

This too, like the living room, differed little from his dreams, although Ethan thought hopefully that the store at least, was less melancholy than the rest of the house. The soft light of sunrise was just filtering through the tall arched windows, catching in the gingham curtains, painting the pine floor. 

There was no boisterous, laughing man behind the front counter though. Instead, there sat Todd... Or lounged Todd, his sandy, brush cut head lying in a nest of insultingly well muscled arms.

This too, Ethan had to concede, wasn't exactly new. Since Ethan had begun running the shop, Todd worked every morning, the same time, same as Ethan, and yet somehow stubbornly refused to adjust himself to actually being awake during sed time. And as he had every morning,  Ethan considered that if Todd hadn't been his best friend, he'd probably have fired him by now. That, and he was pretty good at moving boxes.

Sighing, Ethan made his way over to the stool Todd had precariously perched himself on and gave it a lazy kick. Todd awoke with a start, scrambling to keep upright.

"Am I keeping you awake Todd?" Ethan asked with a weary smile.

"Bro, you are single handedly destroying my sleep cycle, but what else is new?" Todd replied groggily, "Why'd you wake me up? You don't even need me for anything."

"The produce shipment-" Ethan began.

"-Probably won't come until noon," Todd concluded sourly.

Ethan scowled. "You've noticed that too huh? He used to come first thing a few years ago... Now he's been coming later and later..."

"Fine by me, I'm in no hurry to play packhorse." Todd replied with a jaw cracking yawn.

"It's your job Todd. Being awake, by the way, is also your job."

"Yeah, when there's shit to do. Trust me, I'll be all over those boxes when they come. I'll hit those boxes like they owed me money. Fuckin' Prince of boxes over here. But for now, no boxes, no customers... So no Todd," He muttered, laying his head down again.

"Todd, come on man. You've gotta do something. Remember what dad used to say? If you've got time to lean-"

"- You've got time to clean, yeah I remember. And don't get me wrong bro, your dad was a regular fountain of wisdom, but it's gonna be a long friggin' day. The dust will still be there after my power nap." 

Shaking his head, Ethan abandoned his efforts to rouse Todd and fetched his old push broom from its resting place nearby. 

It was worn, it's bristles tattered, it's paint chipped, and it was heavier than a broom had any right to be, the shaft made of what Ethan suspected was solid metal, but it had been in the family for generations, and it fit in Ethan's hand like it was made just for him. 

Wearily, he took it and made a few halfhearted swipes at the floor, but had to concede that all he was doing was likely wearing more of the already thin varnish off the boards. He'd spent most of last night aimlessly sweeping too, after all. It wasn't like there were customers to keep them busy.

Todd looked up, and seemed to notice the despondent look on Ethan's face. 

"Hey man, I'm just fuckin' around. You know I'll work hard today." 

"Yeah Todd, I know, I'm not really worried about you," Ethan replied quietly.

Todd stood and made his way over to Ethan,  awkwardly clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry so much dude. Things will get better. Today's gonna be different! I can feel it!" Todd exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as one could have at six in the morning.

"I don't really want it to be different," Ethan sighed,"I'd rather things... went back to being the same."

Todd scowled. "Well, tough. I said today's gonna be different, and it will. You wait and see, bro."

"Alright," Ethan laughed, "If you say so."

As the day wore on, things certainly seemed far from different.

As Todd predicted, the produce shipment came extraordinarily late. True to his word, Todd tackled the task with gusto. Ethan was forced to admit, when there was actual work to be done, Todd was a model employee. It was just sheer boredom that tripped him up. Unfortunately, boredom was the one commodity they had in plenty at the store. Once the crates were squared away, the produce stocked, there was little else to be found, because as Ethan had predicted, only a few, meandering customers made their way into the store all day. Even fewer had bought anything. 

As evening began to fall, Ethan gradually found that even he was running out of mindless busywork for himself, and so, he began to fall back on entertaining Todd's inane chatter.

"Hey, bro!" Todd called from the front of the store. From where Ethan stood, crowded in the far corner, surrounded by crates of fruit, he could only just make out Todd's frame leaning languidly on the counter, a newspaper in hand. "Did you read this story? The one in the paper today?"

"You mean that paper we're supposed to be selling?" Ethan sighed.

"Yeah, whatever dude, listen up. Apparently there was a dragon attack in South Mills. Isn't that crazy?"

Ethan scowled. "A dragon? An actual like... wild dragon? I thought those were pretty rare."

"Yeah, I know right? I guess it's the first attack in like, five years or something," Todd paused, laying down the paper, "Hey... do you think something like that could happen here?" He added, in a tone far more hopeful than frightened.

"Here?" Ethan didn't even give the question a moment's consideration, "No way. That stuff happens out in the country, not in the middle of downtown. Not here."

"I dunno, could happen. Oh! like I heard from my cousin’s friend's sister, there was that place down on Pine St, that mom and pop diner? Anyhow, so I guess the health inspector was due to visit, and they were freaking out because they'd never make the grade, right? And then like, overnight, they get one of those... Uh, those little bastards... What're they called? Something like food... a muffin?"

"A Brownie," Ethan supplied wearily.

"Yeah! That's the thing! Anyhow, I guess one of those moves in, and suddenly the next morning their kitchen is totally clean and up to code! So see man, that kind of thing happens around here."

Ethan shook his head. "Don't hold your breath Todd. This place isn't exactly magical."

Ethan had always been vaguely aware of Magic, in the same way one could be vaguely aware that elephants existed. It was a part of life for some people, and sometimes interesting to hear about, but Ethan sure as hell didn't want it in his shop. A Green, he could almost hear his father saying, did not rely on Magic. Hard work, courage and love had their own magic, he would state, and it was all their family ever needed. Ethan held by this attitude dutifully... Not that anything remotely Magical had ever shown up at his door. Life at the shop had been blissfully routine for years, so much so that it was almost easy to forget that Magic even existed to begin with.

"Still, it'd be cool," Todd muttered.

Ethan smirked. "What, you want a dragon to come burn the shop down?" 

Todd heaved a sigh. "Well at least then I'd get weekends off..."

Ethan paused, a twinge of guilt running through him. "Look..." He began awkwardly, "I'm... I'm really sorry you've had to work so much lately. It's just, you know, money's tight... I can't really afford to hire..." 

"Bro," Todd cut in with a laugh, "Shut the fuck up man. I don't care. I didn't really mean what I said, you know that."

"I... Yeah," Ethan sighed, "I just... Feel bad."

"You always feel bad. Constantly. You're like a little rain cloud of pure downer. Come on, bro, don't take me so seriously. I don't." 

"Yeah okay. Just, I don't wanna be that boss, y'know?"

"You aren't dude. Calm down. Sweep or something, that'll cheer you up." 

"Great advice. Thanks, Todd." Ethan shot back sarcastically.

"Anytime." Todd replied with cheerful sincerity.

Aggravatingly, as closing hour neared, Ethan really was still sweeping. 

There was no real aim. He just skated his broom around the shop, letting his mind wander, trying to keep visions of red ink and out of business signs out of his head. He was startled out of these thoughts however, by a sharp jab to the back.

"Ow! F-Fudge!" He muttered.

He heard Todd creak on his stool. "The spinning wheel?" He drawled lazily.

Ethan wheeled to eye the contraption in question. "Yeah, the stupid thing."

"Goddamn, that's got to be the fifth time this week. You'd think you'd steer clear of that thing by now.”

"You'd think..." Ethan muttered darkly.

He hated that spinning wheel. Hated it. Nearly every day of his life he'd had to dodge its spindle, jutting out into the aisles, taking up precious space. But his mother, and his grandmother, and her mother before that had been enamored with it. Made the place look rustic, they'd said, homey. Made it a death trap, Ethan thought murderously to himself. But still, he couldn't bring himself to remove it. It was a part of the shop. Tradition. 

He was still rubbing his sore back when the smell met his nose. He felt his stomach sink. Rotten fruit. Again. Just what he needed.

Striding over to the produce, he bent over the bin of peaches and poked at them experimentally. Their flesh gave way, revealing their slick, browning insides, releasing that same putrid odor. Ethan suppressed a groan of frustration.

"Todd!" He called.

"Yeah, what?"

"Did you forget to swap out yesterday's peaches?"

Todd poked his head down the aisle, scowling. "No man. I restocked those today, my own two hands."

"They're friggin' rotten again!" 

"Again? That's weird. They looked okay when I stocked them, I guess," Todd shrugged.

"Well, they're garbage now," Ethan sighed.

Grumbling, Ethan seized a trash bag and set about the unenviable task of discarding the moldering peaches. He was so consumed by his frustration that he didn't even hear the bell tinkling on the front door. After a few minutes though, he couldn't help but notice Todd's frantic attempts to get his attention from behind the counter.

"Bro!" Todd hissed, "Bro c'mere! C'mere c'mere!"

Ethan wasn't sure why Todd was bothering to whisper, considering that he was also windmilling his arms enthusiastically. With a sigh, Ethan set down his bag and wandered over.

"What is it, Todd?" He asked wearily.

"Check it, bro. Unbelievable," Todd breathed, gesturing down the central aisle.

Ethan followed his gaze. It was a girl. That was unsurprising. Todd never hesitated to point out a shapely looking lady or two, with just as much finesse as he was doing now. Ethan usually didn't humor these gawking sessions, a little too respectful and very much too terrified to scope out women, but this time, he found he couldn't quite tear his eyes away.

She was beautiful. Radiantly, impossibly beautiful. 

She was short, but not too short, perhaps a full head below Ethan. Her hair was cropped startlingly, boyishly close, but it was a color that Ethan, though a not poetic sort, could only describe as honey-gold. Though she wore loose, casual clothes; a t-shirt, jeans, a scarf hanging about her neck, she bore them as if they were the finest regalia. 

She stood near the coolers, inspecting a drink, and as she moved Ethan found himself taking in even the tiniest aspects of her delicate form. She had slender, perfect fingers. Rosy, cherubic, perfect lips. A pert, perfect nose. Indeed as Ethan stared, he began to realize that just about everything on her was perfect, in a very uniform, depthless kind of way. This idea suddenly changed his awe to unnerved fixation. There was something... uncanny about her.

If you'd asked a man to describe what a perfect woman looked like, aside from her haircut and clothes, they likely would have rattled off her exact attributes. There were no flaws, no quirks, nothing curious or odd on her body anywhere. Not a single freckle, beauty mark, scar, wrinkle. She was of perfect proportion, curvaceous, but not overly so. Her ears were cute ears, her brows were cute brows. Even before he caught sight of her eyes, he could predict their color, a pure brilliant sky blue. The entire effect was one of a lovely woman, to make no mistake, but something struck him as off. She seemed so... generically gorgeous. So... homogenized.

Still, she was a girl, and she was beautiful, and so Todd's next words brought a twist to Ethan's stomach.

"Go talk to her, bro."

Ethan whirled to face Todd. "What!?" He hissed.

"Yeah, dude, go talk to her! One of us has to! We can't let a babe like that walk out the door without saying something!"

"Yes we can! And why me!?"

Todd shrugged. "I know my limits dude. A girl like that? Wouldn't say two words to me. But you've got that whole kicked-puppy thing going on. Girls love that. Go talk to her."

"I... What?"

"Besides, you deserve a break. Maybe if you got a girlfriend you'd stop moping for once."

"I am not going to go over there and hit on her!" Ethan exclaimed, a little more loudly than he'd intended. He froze, panicked for a moment. Had she heard? He snuck a glance at her, but she was still staring impassively at her drink. He could have sworn he heard a snicker though.

"Relax dude. I didn't tell you to go ask her to marry you. Just say something to her."

"Like what!?" Ethan demanded quietly.

"I don't know man, like, "Hey, need help finding anything?" At the very least you gotta go help her out. It's good customer service."

Ethan paused. In a roundabout way, Todd was right. She was a customer, and so far all he'd done was stare at her. His parents would be mortified.

"Okay, well... yeah. I'm going to go help her. But I mean... Just because it's my job," He stammered.

"Sure bro. Good luck. I'll be here, thinking up baby names for you."

Ethan scowled and shook his head, but nonetheless gathered his courage and began to approach the mystery girl. He saw her gaze slant over to him, and it hit him like an electric shock. Suddenly Ethan became painfully aware of his every flaw, and imagined a few new ones for good measure. Was he walking funny? Did he always walk like that? How did walking work again?

His suddenly stilted gait carried him to her, and as she stared up at him expectantly, he remembered that now he was supposed to talk.

"Hhhh...." He began. It was supposed to be Hi, but the I had jumped ship somewhere between his brain and his lungs. "So, can I... find... anything?"

Somewhere, in the back of his skull, a cruelly rational part of him began dissecting his sentence, and concluded that it was at least missing a verb and a pronoun. It decided that the obvious remedy to this problem was to make him blush furiously. The girl bit her lip. Ethan wasn't sure what this was supposed to mean, but he had a suspicion it meant something, in the mystic language of girl. 

"Uh, yeah, no, I'm just looking at the sodas," She replied with a fluttering smile.

She had a soft, lilting voice. The kind you expected to hear raised in song. Just listening to it Ethan had the impression that pan flutes and violins were on standby.

"Oh. Okay. Sodas are... good," Ethan murmured. He could hear Todd's hand hit his forehead all the way from the front of the store.

"Yeah, uh... right. So..." The girl murmured back awkwardly.

"So..." Was all Ethan could manage to reply.

He knew this was his cue to walk away. But he just... couldn't. It was as if something intoxicating was radiating off this girl, like a perfume. It fixed him to his place, denying him the dignity of a hasty retreat. He was struggling for some kind of rational explanation for this when the girl cleared her throat.

"Look," She began. Her lyrical voice had taken on a wearied, flat tone, to very odd effect. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault."

"Wait, what's not my fault?" 

"The awkwardness."

Her bluntness was surprising, but somehow Ethan found himself laughing. "Oh. No. I'm pretty sure it's all my fault. It's kind of what I do."

The girl laughed in return, and it sounded like bells. "No, seriously though. I have this effect on everyone. It's not just you."

Ethan's mouth beat his brain. "Well, yeah, because you're gorgeous."

From the front came the distinct noise of Todd falling off his chair.

To his relief and bewilderment, she laughed again. "Uh huh. I know. It's kind of part and parcel of the whole gig. I'm, uh... Well see, I'm a Princess."

Ethan blinked. Even as his mouth was saying, "What?" His mind was quickly putting the pieces together. It made sense, actually.

Up to now, Ethan had only seen Princesses on the television, generally being paraded as some kind of prize in reality shows. The formula was always the same, a few handsome Princes, some perilous trials, and in the end, a happily ever after, or so the tabloids purported. The Princess in question had always stuck Ethan as more of a prop than a person, bubbly, vacuous, grinning glossily as men risked life and limb in the pursuit of their hands, cooing breathlessly as they were carried away into the sunset like hunted pelts on the back of some ridiculous horse. And they all looked the same. A minor variation in hair or skin color, height, features, but nearly always the same, tame, brand name beautiful. Looking at this girl now, he realized that she fit the same mold perfectly, as though she'd been crafted on the same assembly line.

At any rate, Princesses, like Magic, were something that didn't happen to Ethan Green. So despite instantly believing her confession, it took a few moments for the gears in his head to restart.

"Yeah, so, I guess it's normal that you're... y'know, staring and everything," She muttered, "It's okay. Well actually it's not okay, I mean, it's kind of a pain in the ass, but it's not like you're the only one." 

Ethan shook his head. "I... I'm sorry. I just... Why are you in my shop!?" He blurted.

The Princess regarded him frostily, a strange expression on her angelic face. "Excuse me?"

"No! No no, I didn't mean that like, 'Get out of my shop or anything' it's just that... Aren't you guys usually-?" 

Her expression only darkened, her long fingers gripping the top of her soda viciously. "Aren't we usually what? Fawning out windows, waiting for our Prince to come? Embroidering our wedding gowns? What are you saying, 'Shouldn't you be in your tower?!'" 

"No! No, jeez, no," Ethan cried, holding his hands up placatingly, "I just... You're here, doing... Normal people stuff. I mean, Princesses aren't... Normal."

Somehow, he knew it was the wrong thing the moment he said it. Still, he didn't expect the tears that sprang up in her eyes.

"No. We're not. Thanks for reminding me." She seethed. Roughly, she jammed the soda back into the cooler, and wheeled around. Ethan expected her to storm off, but instead she froze.

"Miss? Please Miss... Uh, or your highness, or... whatever. I'm sorry." Ethan stammered out.

She didn't turn, didn't move. 

"Miss? Are you alright?" 

He walked as close as he dared to her. She was still fixed in place, and as Ethan watched her, he could see she was barely breathing. Baffled, he followed her gaze. She was staring, wide eyed, unblinking, at the spinning wheel.

She let out a small, defeated breath. Spoke only two words.

"Oh, fuck."

Then, moving like a woman possessed, she stepped forward, stretched out a hand, and pricked her finger on the spindle.

Then dropped like a sack of rocks.

Chapter 2

Ethan gaped for a second, staring at her sprawled body, stepping away from it like it was toxic. It took him a few seconds to find his voice. It took him longer to form actual words.

"Oh fu- Oh sh- Oh God. Oh god oh man. Ohhhhhh god oh man oh god..."

"Bro?" Came Todd's voice tentatively from the front.

"TODD!" 

"Whoa, Bro, what!?" Todd called, scrambling out from behind the counter. 

"TODD!" Ethan cried again, pointing to her prone body.

"OH SHIT!" Todd yelped, jumping back. "WHAT THE FUCK, BRO!? I told you to talk to her, not club her like a fucking seal!"

"I didn't! I was talking to her, and then she flipped out, and then she... died?"

"OH FUCK, IS SHE DEAD!?" Todd roared.

"I DON'T KNOW! I don't know! I don't know, I just... SEE THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I TALK TO GIRLS!"

Todd let out a small burst of hysterical laughter. "Oh shit, Bro, you're a real lady killer."

"NOT FUNNY!" 

"Okay. Okay, just chill, just... Just chill," Todd took a deep breath, ran his hands through his crop of hair, "Okay. First aid right? Do we check her pulse, or... CPR? Mouth to mouth?" He offered vaguely.

"I wouldn't recommend that." Came a dry voice from behind them. 

Both of them jumped. Todd let out what could only accurately be described as a squeal. 

Whirling, Ethan came face to face with the most bizarre looking woman he'd ever seen in his life.

She wasn't quite young, but she wasn't quite old either. Something about her eyes suggested a certain august maturity, but her face had a glossy, flawless quality to it, not unlike the Princess. Her hair was a faint lavender, pulled into a rather intricate bun at the crown of her head. In truth, everything about her was lavender, from her severe, sensible pumps to her glittering, wire rim spectacles. She even seemed to emanate a nearly imperceptible lavender aura. Her clothes smacked of the same sickly hue. Ethan was just a bit at a loss for how to describe them though.

It looked like a pantsuit, tailored by someone given only the barest description of what that entailed, and with a fanciful imagination. Flairs and curlicues and embroideries plagued the thing. Ethan absently made out that her buttons were in fact twee little violet butterflies. 

And then of course, there were the wings. Gossamer, gaudy affairs, in the same precise shade of Lavender. They reached above her head, and came to an almost menacing hooked peak. They swallow-tailed beneath her, trailing just above the ground.

Ethan absorbed all of this in just a few stunned seconds. Sheer panic made him a studious observer. As the shock wore off, he felt Todd, gripping his arm so hard he was losing sensation.

"Whathafuckisthat?" Todd squeaked.

The woman... person... thing, straightened her glasses and scowled. 

"My name is Louise. I'm your Godperson attendant for this juncture," She answered. Her voice was somewhere in a bland, middle range, sterile and professional, the type of voice one chose for answering machine menus.

"Our what?" Ethan breathed.

"Here, take my card." She twiddled her fingers and in a blink of an eye a small card appeared in her hand, lavender of course. As Ethan took it, he noted absently that it gave off a strange, nauseatingly sweet smell.

"Wherethafuckyoucomefrom?" Todd cut in again.

"I teleported. Standard procedure. Much more efficient than flying," She stated as if this were self-evident, "Now, before we continue chatting, I have to observe protocol," She cleared her throat, staring Ethan square in the face. Her eyes were god damn lavender colored, "We have received notice that on these premises, a Princess has succumbed to a Curse, and as such as initiated her Trial Phase."

She had a remarkable ability for pronouncing capital letters. Everything was said with an inflection of slight annoyance.

"Uh, Miss Godperson... Louise. Ma'am. May I ask a few questions?" Ethan ventured, struggling to tread water.

"By all means."

"Okay. So. Princess?" 

"Her." Louise replied flatly, pointing to the girl sprawled on the floor.

"Okay... Curse?"

"The Spinning Wheel's Spindle. A rather old fashioned method. Usually avoided nowadays, the whole Coma business can put Princes off rather a bit, but it was deemed... Necessary in her case. Nonetheless, it was rather hard to trigger. I have to say I'm grateful for your assistance in that matter."

"Assist? I didn't push her into the thing!" Ethan exclaimed.

"Of course not. It would have drawn her in the moment she saw it. All the same, I'm glad you have one lying around. They're hard to come by."

"I... Yeah, sure... Anyhow. Uh... Trial Phase?"

"Ah, now here is where we really talk business. Are you the owner of these premises?" She demanded, fixing Ethan with a piercing gaze.

For a moment, Ethan almost said no. Some part of him still knew it as his parents' house. Their shop. Their home. But no, it was only his now.

"Yes. Yes I'm the owner," He nodded.

"Well then, as such, you are required, by code, to permit the use of these premises for use in the Princess' trials, and house her person until such a time as the trials are complete and a suitable Prince has awoken her."

"Waitwaitwait," Todd chimed in, "Trials? Like... Those crazy fuckin' things we see on TV? Riding up glass hills, and slaying dragons and shit?"

Louise looked at Todd as one might regard a diseased dog. "Yes, sir. Those sorts of trials. It's customary, once a Princess enters her Trial Phase, for Princes to compete for her hand. The onus of hosting these trials always falls on the owner of the-"

"Premises the Princess conks out on," Ethan surmised.

"In the cases of Magically Induced Comas, yes," Louise agreed.

"So you're going to roost a dragon in my SHOP!?" Ethan roared.

"There's no need to become excitable," Louise huffed, "Any and all damages you suffer will be compensated for. Honestly, most people are delighted to host Trials. It can be quite lucrative, you know."

"Lucrative?" Todd mumbled.

"Indeed. If you so choose, many Media outlets are happy to televise the proceedings, and pay a handsome fee for the privilege."

"No," Ethan replied firmly.

"Are you sure? It's quite routine nowadays," Louise replied airily.

"No. No media, no money, no... No trials! I don't want this! Take the girl but leave me alone!" He cried.

A look of frosty severity crossed Louise's face, momentarily contorting it into something that appeared not entirely human. Both he and Todd backed up a step. "You Don't Have A Choice Mr. Green," She intoned, every capital crisp.

"But... But this is my shop! It's my family's shop, it's been ours for generations!" Ethan protested.

"From the minute that girl fainted on your floor, for all intents and purposes, this shop became property of Fate, Mr. Green," Louise insisted.

"You can't..."

"I can. I will. You have very little choice in the matter. What choice you do have, I suggest you exercise wisely." She put firmly. Ethan felt the argument close like a pair of iron doors. "Now, as I said, you can still make a fine profit from this venture-"

"No, I still stand by what I said. No cameras." Ethan pressed. She was right. If this was the only choice he had, he was going to make the proper one. The Greens did not indulge in spectacle. The Greens didn't caper for money. The Greens did not seek fame. These were truths Ethan understood as firmly as his own name.

"Suit yourself," Louise dismissed, "It's not required. All that is required is that you don't impede the process. Do what you like with the Princess' body. Whatever is most convenient. I warn you though, lest you get visions of glory, that kissing her would be ill advised. Or any other kind of... miscreancy with her body, but kissing will have the most adverse effects."

"I... What!? No! God no! I'm not kissing a girl in a coma!" Ethan exclaimed. 

"Fuckin' right! That's creepy as balls!" Todd nodded.

"Good. See to it you maintain that attitude and I think we'll have a very amicable partnership." Louise declared cordially.

Ethan was less than reassured. He looked around his shop and fervently began to wish he really had told the Princess to get the hell out, customer service be damned.

"Oh cheer up," Louise pronounced. She sported something that it took several seconds for Ethan to realize was supposed to be a smile. "You're about to be aiding in the pursuit of True Love." 

She pronounced the last two words in such a fashion that Ethan almost saw the letters TM floating after them.

"I... Okay?"

"Don't worry, dear," The endearment came off more than a little scripted, "I'll take care of the particulars. All you have to do is sit back and stay out of the way. Who knows, you may even find it entertaining."

"I... But... Okay?"

"Good lad. Now then. I have a lot of business to attend to. We must get cracking as soon as possible, very eager to wrap this case up. That being said, how does tomorrow night, around nine o'clock fetch you?"

"For what?" Ethan asked numbly. 

"Well the trial of course!" Louise exclaimed, "Honestly, do keep up."

"Uh, well, it is after close," Ethan reasoned lamely.

"Lovely. Works for both of us. Good to see you're becoming more agreeable." Louise flashed another dubious smile. 

"I... Yeah, no problem," Ethan replied dazedly.

"Well, if that's all that sorted, I'll be on my way. You can expect the Dragon sometime around Eight, I expect."

"The... wait, what, seriously!?" Ethan exclaimed.

"Good day!" Louise replied brightly. There was a slight flash, a small sound like rushing air, and then she was gone.

He and Todd stood stock still for what must have been minutes. When Todd finally released his grip on Ethan's arm, he left sweaty fingerprints on his shirt.

"Dragon," Ethan muttered absently, "She said Dragon."

"And you said this shit doesn't happen here!" Todd replied with a faint laugh.

"Why Dragons? Why here? Why... Why me?" Ethan whispered. He looked to Todd frantically. "Did I like, murder someone and forget about it? Kick some kittens? How did my luck get this bad!?" 

"Well, you did get this chick zonked," Todd chuckled, prodding the girl with his foot.

"Don't kick her! God, what do we do with her? We can't just leave her here," Ethan moaned. Looking at her, sprawled on the hard floor, he already felt a bit guilty he'd ignored her as long as he had. 

"We could prop her up in the corner, tape her eyes open, scare the shit out of shoplifters."

"Todd!"

"Alright, dude, just kidding."

"It'll have to be the couch I guess," Ethan sighed, "Come on, help me move her."

Awkwardly, Ethan bent and slipped his hands under her arms, and Todd obligingly gathered up her legs. Lifting her, Ethan found she was actually rather light. He guessed that Todd could have lifted her on his own, but it would have hurt his pride to admit he himself likely couldn't. Together, they shuffled her into the living room. 

"She's not really breathing, Eh?" Todd ventured quietly.

Ethan had noticed the same thing. She looked still as death, but her skin was warm, her face rosy. "Yeah... It's creepy," He grunted as he struggled.

"Fuckin' creepy," Todd echoed.

Gesturing with his head, Ethan guided Todd over to the low, green couch set flush against the stairwell. "I don't know if her heart's beating either," He said as they laid her down.

Todd looked down at her, shook his head. "Nope. Nope I don't think it is."

Ethan shuddered. "So creepy."

Todd nodded, then considered a moment more. "Hey so... Hopefully that means she doesn't have to pee, right?" 

"Oh jeez. Oh wow that's gross but, yeah."

"Or eat. Or drink or anything..."

"God, where is that stupid Fairy Godperson when you need her?" Ethan hissed.

"More like Fairy Godbitch. What a cu-"

"Todd!"

"Country fried fool, as my grandma used to say," Todd recovered. 

Ethan shot him a smirk, but looking down at the stranger on his couch, he began to get the sensation that he was sliding down a very steep ravine. In actuality, it was a feeling he'd had for a very long time now, but the pace of his descent had gotten markedly faster.

"Bro? You okay?" Todd ventured quietly.

Ethan looked up, aware he'd been staring into space. "Yeah… I mean, well no, but yeah."

"I hear you. Weird fuckin' day, right?"

"Yeah, no kidding," Ethan laughed softly.

They fell into silence again for a minute. Todd seemed to become aware of his surroundings all of a sudden. 

"Hey. I just realized. I haven't been back here in like, years. Man, nothing's changed," He remarked.

"Yeah," Ethan replied vaguely. He knew Todd hadn't. No one had, except for a few well-wishing aunts, uncles, cousins, but even they'd stopped visiting months ago. The Princess was the first person to make use of the couch in ages. It always felt too big to sit on alone.

"So what now man?" Todd asked hesitantly.

Ethan shrugged. "I guess... We just close up. Go to bed, right?"

"That's it? You sure I can't do anything else?" 

"No. Wait, yeah," Ethan considered, "Can you... Can you get rid of that stupid spinning wheel for me? Just wrap it in a tarp and stick it in storage or something?"

Todd gaped openly, "Wait, for real?"

Ethan nodded wearily, "Uh, yeah. If it's not too much trouble."

"Hell no! I'd cart that fucking thing to an active volcano if you asked me, bro! But, I mean, I thought you wanted to keep it around. Because of... You know..."

Ethan knew. Some part of it felt like a betrayal, even thinking about discarding it. It was a piece of his memories, something his mother had been fond of… But he HATED it. The thing had stretched his tolerance just by hulking in the corner, but now it seemed it was actively trying to spite him. No more. It had to go.

"Yeah, Todd. I knew I said we should keep it around but... Well that's before I knew the thing was a friggin' Princess trap.," He laughed.

Todd chuckled in return. "It was like a freaking predator man! Waitin' for nubile young Princesses to wander into its clutches. It was probably practicing on you all these years."

"I don't look like a Princess," Ethan pouted.

"Sure, whatever you say, bro." Todd laughed. Turning, he strode on his heel, whistling cheerfully.

Chapter 3

The store closed and the spinning wheel properly squared away, Todd left, and Ethan found himself alone in his silent house. 

Well not quite alone. 

Standing in the living room, he caught himself staring at the Princess again. It was embarrassing, but in truth it was hard not to. Not because of her extraordinary beauty, though that was a factor, but because Ethan couldn't shake the eerie, unnatural sensation she engendered in him. His eyes fixed on her hair. It seemed... Longer somehow. He could have sworn it was just an inch when she'd walked in, but now it seemed long enough to brush her earlobes. That was impossible right? 

Confounded, he let it go. He'd already been through at least four or five things he thought impossible today. What was a few extra inches of hair compared to a half-dead girl on your couch?

Wearily, he fixed himself a haphazard supper before wandering off to his bed. Slowly, he went through his morning ritual in reverse, struggling with the knot on his apron, shuffling off his shoes, combing his hair, culminating with a brief, despondent look in the mirror. Finally, he threw himself down on his bed.

Ethan's nerves were frazzled, his mind racing, but the benefit of a long day of hard work was that it was nearly impossible to suffer insomnia. Ethan had never once in his life had trouble falling asleep, and tonight was no exception.

It began the same way.

He glided into the living room, drenched with light, radiant, warm.

He headed for the doorway, eager, hopeful.

He heard their voices. Thunder and birdsong. So close and so familiar it made his heart bleed.

He reached out a hand for the doorknob and...

Suddenly, discordantly, the door flew open. A small figure pushed its way through it, walking so briskly they bumped into Ethan's chest, giving a small squeak of surprise. Baffled, Ethan looked down.

It was her.

The Princess, in all her uncanny glory. She stared up at him with her vivid blue eyes, her honey hair cropped short over her brow. Ethan stared, open mouthed at her for a long minute, his bleary mind scrabbling to understand.

"Y-you!?" He exclaimed at length.

The girl scowled up at him. Roughly, she pushed him backwards a few steps, shutting the door behind her. "Hey, douche," She replied scathingly.

Ethan tried once or twice to speak, but words wouldn't come. He grasped at his hair, frustration, panic, confusion all battling in his chest. 

"What are you doing here!?" He cried, when his voice finally decided to show up.

She shrugged, avoiding his eyes.  "I got bored I guess. Saw this was open. Decided to snoop." 

"But... What!? How are you here, you... you're unconscious on my couch!" 

The girl rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Which is why I'm stranded in fucking dreamland, isn't it?"

"D-Dreamland?"

"Limbo, purgatory, the veil, whatever you want to call it. I got bored cruising around in the dark, figured I'd come crash this dream. I didn't know it was yours," She said with a note of disgust.

"A... a dream," Ethan murmured dazedly.

Suddenly, he heard it again, the bass rumble of his father's laugh. It drew him like a magnet. Instinctively, he tried to shift around the girl, but she noticed his maneuver and leaned against the door, arms crossed.

"Move," Ethan demanded.

"Yeah, I'm not done talking to you," The girl snorted.

Ethan began to feel frantic. "You need to move."

"Why?"

"Because I need to be out there! Move!"

"You don't need to be anywhere, it's a dream," She dismissed with another roll of her eyes.

"Move!"

"So have you tried to kiss me yet?" The girl replied, her voice casual, but her glance cutting.

Ethan paused, becoming aware that his breathing was galloping away from him. "W-What?"

"Well, you were hitting on me before. I figured you probably tried to get lucky right?"

Ethan could feel himself flush scarlet, though from indignation or humiliation he didn't know. "I was NOT hitting on you, I was... offering assistance. And no, I don't kiss girls in comas, but y'know, thanks for assuming!"

"Oh, seriously! You expect me to believe you didn't try to cop a feel!" The girl shot back. There was a ragged edge to her voice, something verging on tears, but Ethan barely noticed through his rage.

"No! Jesus, no!" He shouted, throwing up his hands.

"I know how it is! You get a pretty Princess in your shop, she passes out, is totally at your mercy. Figured I was public property anyhow!? Thought it was your lucky day!?"

Even high and screaming her voice was aggravatingly lovely. Her flushed face and teary eyes were still picturesquely perfect. It only threw fuel on Ethan's anger.

"LUCKY!?" He roared. A few tight, hysterical laughs bubbled out of his chest. "LUCKY!? You think it's LUCKY when a stranger passes out in your store!? You think it's LUCKY when some psychopathic fairy-lawyer from hell tells you she can do whatever she likes with your home!? You think it's LUCKY when... when everything you love could be burned to the ground tomorrow!? Is THAT your idea of LUCKY!?" Ethan buried his face in his hands, and took a few, sharp breaths before continuing. "I didn't ask for this! I didn't ask for you, or your curse, or any of this... So just... God, will you please just leave me alone and get out of the way?" 

He looked at her face for the first time since he'd begun his tirade. She stared back, wide eyed, lips pursed. Her bitterness was gone, but she still remained frozen in place.

"Why do you want to get back there so bad?" She asked in a small, blank voice. "It's just your storefront. It's barely even different from when I saw it."

Ethan's patience had dissolved. Roughly, he pushed her arm aside, grasped for the doorknob.

"I need to see them," He answered flatly.

"See who?" She still stood stubbornly in the way. Ethan turned the knob, tried to prop it open. 

"My parents," Ethan continued, an edge of desperation entering his voice.

"But it's just a dream-" 

"I need to see them before they disappear!" Ethan cried, wrenching at the door.

He heard the girl give a small gasp, and suddenly she sprang away from the door. Ethan flung it open, heart beating wild with anticipation, but...

There was nothing.

The doorway opened into darkness. A complete and unending void.

"I... What... What happened?" Ethan whispered.

He reached out a tentative hand, pawed at the abyss beyond. He felt only dry, empty cold meeting his touch.

"They... They're gone. It's gone. Everything's gone," He intoned.

"It's just a dream," Came the girl's voice, meek, soft. 

"They're gone," Ethan repeated, choking over the last syllable.

Ethan slowly backed away from the door, shut it. The endless blackness was more than he could bear. He felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, and shakily raised his hand to cover them. He stood in silence for what must have been a very long time, grappling with the void that swelled inside him, the echo to that dark and empty doorway.

"They aren't gone forever," The girl chimed in.

Ethan took a quick, gulping breath. "Yeah. Yeah they are," He replied thickly. 

The girl didn't reply, but her silence was answer enough.

There was another long pause, as Ethan tried to collect himself, tried to just breathe. Eventually though, he couldn't ignore the feel of the girl's eyes on him. Wearily, he straightened up, turned to face her.

"What do you-" 

"I'm sorry!" She blurted.

Ethan blinked.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry!" She cried. Perfect, crystalline tears began to roll down her cheeks, and Ethan dimly considered that it was almost unfair how prettily flushed her face was, compared to his doubtlessly blotchy, red eyed one. "I'm sorry about your house and your shop, and your parents... I'm sorry I was such a fucking bitch back there... I just... Oh god, I'm really, really sorry about everything!" She sobbed.

Ethan found himself in the odd position of immediately feeling guilty. Instantly all his rage and pain were forgotten as he scrambled for a way to make things right.

"Hey, no, it's okay. It's alright. I, uh... I don't mind." He stammered.

She gave a small, tinkling laugh, between gasping breaths. "You don't mind? I've fucked up your life!" She exclaimed.

"No, I mean... Kind of. But it's not your fault, and I mean... I'm sorry?"

She gave another, louder laugh. "You're sorry? Wow, Jesus, why on earth are you sorry?"

Ethan paused, trying to puzzle out an answer, brow furrowed.

"Uh, I'm sorry... that you're sorry?" He ventured.

The girl laughed again, and suddenly, like sun peeking out from behind clouds, something new, something genuine slipped out. Her laugh started musically, but a surprising, brash note snuck in, and then a small snort. It was jarring, but oddly refreshing. Ethan found himself smiling without exactly knowing why.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh at you." She began, misinterpreting Ethan's curious stare, "It's just... You really don't like crying people, do you?" 

Ethan returned with a laugh of his own. "No, they kind of freak me out." 

The girl smiled, and sniffling, began to swipe away her tears. "Sorry. I just... I really am sorry. About everything."

"Noted," Ethan replied with a smile.

She sighed, and the two of them regarded each other for a suddenly painfully awkward minute. Ethan cast about for what one said to a half-dead dream Princess. A question leapt into his head and he couldn't stop himself from asking it.

"Do you eat?" He blurted.

"What?" The girl looked up at him, smiling bemusedly.

"I mean, like... If you don't eat, in the real world, will you die? I should have asked the fairy god-lady or whatever but-"

"Oh. Oh no. I don't. I don't need water or anything. It's like... Magic stasis? I should be fine." 

"Oh, okay, thank god. That... that would have been weird."

They both paused for a moment, no doubt musing over the undignified scenario of trying to feed a passed-out stranger. Ethan tried to push it out of his mind. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Well anyhow, uh, your body is good - I mean it's okay! It's fine. It's uh, on my couch," He supplied.

"Oh, yeah, thanks. That's nice," The girl replied hurriedly, "One of... one of these?" She queried, pointing around the room.

"What? Oh! Yeah... uh, that one." Ethan answered, gesturing.

"Huh." The girl crossed over to the couch in question. Stiffly, she sat, bounced on it a few times. "Seems comfy enough. Thanks," She added with a smile.

"Yeah, no problem," Ethan smiled back nervously. Hesitant, but feeling gawky standing over her, he crossed to the couch and sat as well, taking care to seat himself on the far opposite side. "I mean. It's not exactly... uh... fit for a Princess or anything," He muttered.

The girl gave a loud snort of derision, another strange, fascinating slip of her veneer. "I would sleep on the lumpiest couches on earth if I could stop being a fucking Princess."

Ethan smiled at her nervously. "What, seriously?"

The girl nodded, her shoulders slumped. "Yeah, seriously."

"But I mean... I thought being a Princess was every girl's dream?"

The girl gave a small, bitter laugh. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, for some girls it must be. I've seen ones that seem happy enough. I mean, money, fame, a handsome husband... It sounds pretty great. Maybe I'm weird for thinking it's not, but... Jesus, it's not." 

"What do you mean?" 

"What do I mean!? I mean it's... It's... It's a trap, you know? It's a perversion, it's a violation, it's... It's a fucking nightmare."

"A violation?" Ethan gulped.

The girl nodded vigorously. "Yeah, you have no idea. I mean... Where do I start?" She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, and seemed to be struck with inspiration. "Okay," She said, holding them up, "First of all. This isn't me."

"Oooo...kay?" 

"This, all this," She pressed, circling her finger around her face, "This isn't what I look like. I was made to look like this."

"How do you mean... you used to look different?"

The girl nodded. "My mom tells me that when I was born, I looked like her. I had freckles, and a bigger mouth, and a different nose... But then the fucking godpeople came." She sighed.

"The fairy ones?"

"Yeah, those ones. So... Okay, you know how Princesses used to be a monarchy thing?" She enquired.

"Uh, yeah, vaguely," Ethan nodded.

"Well now it's just a random thing. Maybe because of the march of democracy or something, I don't know. All I do know, is that one day, a few months after you're born, fairy godparents just zap themselves into your fucking nursery and decide you're a Prince or a Princess. There's nothing your parents can do, nothing anybody can do, they just decide it, and that's that."

"So... just for giggles? Why do they pick who they pick?" 

"I don't know. I think they have some reasoning behind it... I mean, they're like magical lawyers, you're right, they've got all these rules and regulations, they've got to have a reason, but... I don't know. Anyhow. So they decide you're a Princess and then you get blessed."

"Blessed?"

"Uh huh. You get some kind of special gift. Three of them usually. So Princes get stuff like Courage, or Strength, or Dashing, or something like that. With Princesses though, it's junk like Grace, or Poise, or Good Posture."

"That last one sounds annoying," Ethan observed.

"I know, right? At least I didn't get saddled with that one," She laughed, gesturing at her slumped frame, "And of course they're never anything useful. I could be happy with, like, Good at Math, or Tells Good Jokes or... I dunno... Remembers Birthdays Really Well."

"Talented Beekeeper," Ethan offered. 

Another laugh, another slipped note. Ethan smiled.

"Yeah, why not? Anything like that. But no. Useless bullshit. And then with Princesses, one of the gifts is always Beauty." She sighed bitterly.

"Seems kinda... subjective," Ethan muttered. 

"Yeah, well not to the Godparents, apparently. When a girl is gifted with Beauty, she doesn't just become a prettier version of herself, or just stays the same and everyone thinks she's beautiful... She actually physically changes. I changed. I used to look different. I used to look like my mom. Now... Now I don't know how I really look anymore. I just look like what the Godparents think is beautiful. Like... like the most baseline kind of beauty they could come up with."

"Wait... So your face-" 

"Not my face. Not my original one at least."

"And your eyes?" 

"Not blue. Mom thinks they might have been Hazel... I don't know." She shrugged defeatedly.

"Oh man, that's a relief!" Ethan blurted.

The girl looked at him, startled. "A relief?"

"Well, yeah, I mean..." Ethan stammered, "I just... There was something odd about you, and it was kinda freaking me out - Not that you're freaky, it's just... You looked... Uh, a little... off?"

She stared at Ethan, face unreadable. "You don't like the way I look?" She asked flatly.

"Yes! I mean no - well wait not no, but..." Ethan could almost hear the sound of a shovel pitching dirt out of his grave.

"It's okay, seriously, do you?"

Ethan gave a small, high laugh. "Uh... Well, I mean yeah, you look pretty... and everything... but it's kind of... Uh... boring? Oh wow, that came out wrong. Just not... Interesting. Wow, still wrong!" 

"No no, it's okay!" She replied. Ethan was flabbergasted to find her smiling.

"I-I like your hair though. The cut I mean," He offered.

"Oh," Her smile grew, "Thanks. I cut it myself. Every day."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah. Turns out when they make you beautiful, they want you to stay beautiful, according to their standards. So, wounds don't scar, piercings fuse up, tattoo ink beads up and falls off. And your hair just grows and grows and fucking grows."

"Holy cow, that's weird," Ethan breathed. 

"Right!?" She exclaimed. "I once tried to put on purple lipstick and it melted in the tube! Doesn't do that with pink or light red. Such bullshit."

"So, you cut your hair and wear uh, Un-Princessey clothes because..."

"Because it's the only way I can be myself," She murmured quietly.

Ethan was silent for a moment. He looked at the beautiful face that wasn't hers and saw a sorrow beneath it that she seemed to own all too much.

"Jeez, that sounds... Bogus," He offered lamely.

She laughed. "Understatement of the year, but yeah. But I mean, that's not really the worst of it. Not by a longshot."

"Oh?" Ethan ventured.

"It's not enough to take your identity, they fucking own your life. From the moment you're Princessified, you belong to them. You don't get to choose where you live, where you go to school, what you want to do with your life. No, you're as good as a slave from that point on."

"Seriously?"

The girl nodded. "On your fourteenth birthday, right? The godparents show up, and give you a Curse. Something to begin your trials. Maybe you bite a bad apple, maybe you run into a vindictive goblin, maybe you drop candle wax on a bear..."

"What?"

"Don't ask. Anyhow, they give you this curse to hang over your head for the rest of your life. Once it gets activated, you're locked in. The contest for your hand starts, and congratulations, you've lost any control you had over your life. You're just fucking Prince bait from then on."

"Okay, wait, but... Why? I've been thinking this since you passed out on my floor... Why? Why bother, why all the trouble and magic and rules? Why marry off Princesses? What's the point?"

"I don't know. It seems insane, right? All this pageantry. They practically devote themselves to forcing this weird routine... Again, I mean... there's gotta be a reason. If you ask them they'll tell you it's all about True Love."

"Trademark," Ethan added absently.

"Oh my god, you got that too!?" The girl exclaimed. "It's like they own the patent on Tru Wuv or something. So fucking annoying. It's always True Love this, and True Love that. Which is bullshit. I mean, my parents met when they were in college. They both liked bad horror movies and jazz music. They traveled the world together on like, five bucks and a prayer. Dad proposed with a twist tie ring. That... That seems like True Love to me. I don't get any of that. I can't even date!"

"At all?" Ethan asked, very conscious of trying to sound casual.

"Nope. Do you know what happens if you try to kiss a Princess if you aren't a Prince?"

"No. I get the feeling it's ominous though." 

"You get turned into a frog. No fucking kidding. An actual frog. One of my childhood friends found that out the hard way, got an inch away from my lips and suddenly he's hopping. I cried for like, six days before the godparents showed up and changed him back." She'd begun to talk very fast, her face flushed. Ethan began to get the sensation that she'd forgotten she was even talking to anyone else. "If anyone tried to cop a feel, my clothes go all rigid. Like steel. No matter what I wear. They refuse to come off. For like, an hour. You know how hard that makes doctor's visits? Even though Princesses never really get sick... And even when I'm naked? Anyone who comes within eyeshot is left blind and paralyzed, and it doesn't wear off until I put clothes on!"

Ethan gulped, his face burning. "Uhhhh...."

"Because GOD FORBID anyone take my chastity! No! Gotta save that for our Princes! Gotta be pure, and demure, and fucking CHASTE. I'm twenty two years old dude, and I still haven't lost my...!"

She trailed off. Ethan heard her breath go out in a little dwindling squeak. He felt her eyes on the side of his head, but he stared devoutly at the floorboards.

They sat. They fidgeted. Ethan coughed twice.

Eventually, Ethan couldn't resist sneaking a look at her face. She looked embarrassed, yes. But also a little... Worn down. A little defeated. And more than a little scared.

"Hey," Ethan said quietly, breaking the silence, "I'm, uh... Sorry. About this. That all sounds really, really awful."

She looked up, a small smile tracing her face.

"I'm sorry about your hair," He continued, "And your life, and, uh, you know... your chastity." He finished with a slight break of his voice.

She burst into giggles, and Ethan was strangely delighted to hear her little snort crop up again. He found himself grinning.

"Thanks." She replied once she'd caught her breath. "And I'm sorry too. About all the stupid shit I said, and your shop, and all the trouble I've caused," She paused, looked towards the door, "And, um... Sorry about your parents."

Ethan's smile disappeared. "Why are you sorry about that? You didn't even know them."

"Yeah, but I mean... They're gone, right?" She asked quietly.

Ethan closed his eyes. Nodded.

"And that sucks, right?"

He nodded again.

"So... I'm sorry. And I'm really sorry I stopped you from seeing them," She added, her voice heavy with sincerity.

Ethan gave her a weak smile. "Don't worry about it. It's just a dream, right?"

Another moment's silence. This time broken by the girl.

"Hey. What's your name?"

Ethan looked up, smiled wryly. "Oh. I'm Ethan. Ethan Green."

The girl smirked, a strangely incongruent expression on a Princess's face. 

"Green? You own a Grocer's and your name is-?"

"Yeah yeah, hilarious right? Trust me, you haven't said anything my friend hasn't already. Repeatedly," Ethan replied with a sigh.

"Sorry," She giggled, "Uh. Well, my name's Penny."

"Penny," Ethan repeated, trying it out, "Penny what?"

She blushed. "Uh, Pierce," She mumbled.

Ethan laughed. "So wait, you're-?"

"Princess Penny Pierce." She groaned.

"Oh wow." Ethan chuckled, "And you thought my name was funny?"

"Would you believe I knew a girl whose last name was Prince? The godpeople referred to her as Princess Prince. Confused the hell out of everyone."

Both she and Ethan began to laugh, and kept laughing for longer than was truly warranted for such a small comment. They'd start to calm down, and then glance at each other and be set off all over again. On some level, Ethan understood that this was because they'd both reached a point in their stress and strangeness where they could either laugh, or cry. Laughter just seemed like the more enjoyable option.

As Ethan's giggles subsided, he looked at Penny, and suddenly saw in her... a person.

He'd seen a Pretty Girl at first, and then a Princess, and then a Pain in the Ass, but now, she was just a Person, and like that, all his awkwardness dissolved. 

"Well," He smiled, extending a hand, "It's nice to meet you, Penny Pierce," He said, purposely omitting the Princess part.

She grinned back, and Ethan thought there was something fantastically crooked about it this time. "Yeah, nice to meet you too, Ethan Green," She replied sincerely.

She stretched out her hand to meet his. He felt her fingertips brush his palm.

And then everything was tangled blankets and screaming alarms.

[misfxtteam]

Bucky listens and doesn’t even know where to start with some of the things Tony was saying for himself. If he was being honest, Tony was more generous than anyone Bucky had never met. I mean even when they hated each other, Tony didn’t bar him from staying at the tower with Steve and then having his own room later on. And the description of himself, being difficult to date, he quietly contemplates that as they walk. Tony seemed to have a lot of reasons dating him was difficult but a lot of it was about why it was difficult for the other person to date him. But then issues with his own family life growing up and the problems with people dating him for the wrong reasons, he understood all of that.

“Rambling is more than fine Tony, i just need a second to process it all. I haven’t dated since…before the war,” he admits with a shrug, shaking his head a little with a faint laugh at the mention of engagement ring. “I ain’t asking because I want you to consider dating me. I asked that because I want to know where the boundaries are mainly, and because more could mean anything really. But you’re..right” he keeps his eyes ahead, he had enjoyed the last half day more than he’d like to admit. And he wasn’t like Tony, didn’t have a little black book of people to call because he didn’t have it in him to let people in like that. So sue him, he had maybe thought that…nothing, he had thought nothing. Didn’t matter anyways. He glances over to Tony with a faint smile, “we don’t have to define anything, I’m just glad it doesn’t seem like the sight of me revolts you anymore honestly,” he grins.

Dating was just not possible for him. He couldn’t see himself going out, meeting a stranger, and asking them out. He didn’t even know if he wanted to date Tony really, didn’t know if he was able to date. The nightmares, the trauma and the PTSD that haunted him, the constant struggle of dealing with his past because it would never stop being his past. He doesn’t know what normal person would want to be involved in any of that. He can understand Tony’s issues with dating, it seemed like he’d had bad experiences. But he didn’t expect the questions about HYDRA. He goes cold, he had only mentioned them to explain why he was even doing that type of research to begin with. He keeps pace with Tony though, staring ahead now as they walked, trying to focus on the first questions he had been asked.

“Before HYDRA, I had done…milder versions of what we did,” he explains, “My experience with men has never been like that. I’ve done some back alley fucks, i know that it’s not safe practices anymore but back then that’s the only way men could really do anything together. Guys didn’t date, couldn’t do anything like that, it was just..dangerous. But with women, I did say some stuff like what we did and I could get a bit rough, although I never got so rough with them the way we were. I was dominant but I don’t think I would say I dommed them really. I did get good at paying attention to their limits, to making sure they were okay while we were doing anything that wasn’t..” he has to think for a second to find the right word, snapping his fingers when he gets it, “vanilla! Vanilla, i forgot that was the word for a second,” he chuckles.

He’s taken his hands out of his pockets now and his hands are fidgeting a bit, wringing together as they walked. HYDRA was a different story. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to explain all of that. But Tony explaining his own traumas is helpful, more than helpful. It makes him feel less vulnerable to know they’re both sharing. “I’m..I don’t know if I’m going to do a good job explaining it. With HYDRA there’s..two parts to it I guess. The first part, letting you have control the first time, I..” he swallows thickly and tries to get the words right, “I didn’t have a choice with them. And it felt good, fuck it felt so much better than good, to be able to trust someone enough to have control when I know it wouldn’t be used against me, that I could trust you to make sure it was good and I could..enjoy submitting,” he admits, a blush building at the back of his neck. He takes longer to get to the second part of the answer, twisting the hem of his hoodie as he thinks. “I don’t know that I ever want to choke someone really. But having a hand on their neck, or their hand on my neck, not hurting them, not doing anything but just..being there, I like it. I know it’s fucked up, I know it is and I can’t tell you why, maybe it’s because I know that i’m in control and I won’t hurt them? I..” he looks down and watches his feet as they walk.

“I’m pretty sure that I like being dominant because it’s like i’m taking back power, and i’m able to use the power dynamic and make my partner feel good, and I don’t..” he blushes a bit deeper, “You’re the only one to really dom me Tony so..I’m not sure that I’m into it in other contexts but with you, I definitely enjoyed it”

Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets as they walk, keeping pace with Tony and having to hide his smile at some of the things he said. Chicken salad from a diner felt like a crime honestly, and he nods in agreement, “oh yeah, most healthy options at a diner feels like it goes against some kind of diner etiquette,” he chuckles, giving a nod to the security officer as they walk past him.

Once they’re out on the street, he realizes that going out at night meant he didn’t feel the need to pull his hood up or try to hide his face. The lack of people milling about and the lack of potential cameras flashing made him feel a lot less anxious about going out and he breathes a bit easier as they walk further away from the Tower. But then Tony’s question brings a blush to his cheeks and he has to figure out how he wants to do this. Tony’s disclaimer made him realize he pretty much felt the same way. He didn’t feel the need to keep secrets at least he doesn’t think so.

“I can promise I won’t lie and I think I want to put everything on the table too. I don’t know exactly where this conversation is going to go but I can’t see you asking me anything that’s going to warrant me saying it’s over the line and refusing to answer. If you want to know something, I’ll tell you, I mean i guess that’s the whole point of this conversation. And the short answer to your question is..is the internet.”

Bucky remembers those nights, he had just started trying to figure out his sexuality because Steve had asked if he still felt the same as he had back before the war. It was a fair question, after everything with HYDRA and the conditioning, there was no telling what that did to his mentality and his personal preferences. Bucky hadn’t been sure, but Steve made it clear that in the current age, there was no need to hide whatever his preferences ended up being if they weren’t the norm. So when Bucky had his nightmares and was up for the night, he would pull open his laptop and just type his random questions into Google.

“It started because I was trying to figure out my sexuality again. HYDRA….well they fucked me up, in more ways than you probably think. So after talking a bit about it with Steve I just..wanted to do my own research. I had a lot of time on my hands at night because I never sleep very well, so I would use google and it started with me typing in questions about sexual preferences and there was a night i dived down into gender identity even. But most nights I would always end up looking more into BDSM once I figured the preference thing out, and I know I always enjoyed a..power struggle, and so learning about the different kinks and different ways of being dominant or submissive, it made me realize i liked a lot more than I had even known. And most of the educational sites I found always had a huge emphasis on aftercare, the importance of it and the different ways to do it. The main thing I picked up though is that it depends on the person you’re with, on what they need after being..roughed up. And that it’s important for the dom too, because of….dom drop? I think that’s what it’s called?” Bucky shrugs as they walk, glancing over to Tony to make sure he was making sense and wasn’t confusing the man. “I became very good at making sure to clear my search history,” he chuckles before thinking of what he wanted to ask.

“My first question has got to be, what the hell do you think should happen now? I think it’s safe to say we completely changed the association, but do you want to just go back to being colleagues, without the harsh digs every time we work together? Or do you want to try and be friends and pretend it never happened? Or are you open to the idea of something…more? I have no idea what ‘more’ would be but i’m open to figuring it out with you,” he confessed.

[with-my-murder-flute]

Hanu Olgarezh: Notes and headcanons

I just finished The Tomb of Dragons for the second time, and have kneaded my thoughts into a ball of dough

Origins and Job

From Ezho; is one of five children

His being Ezheise is notable enough for Thara and Zhodeän Parmorin to each note it with a bit of surprise

Has been with the Principate Guard for less than a year

Got hired partly because the Guard is "desperately short-handed" and "need officers so badly"

Volunteers to guard Thara when he returns from Cetho

Trusted enough he gets pulled from guarding Thara to arrest Coralis Clunethar

My thoughts:

I suspect that, like Thara, Prince Orchenis trusts him specifically because he is not Amaleise. Amalo sounds like a deeply corrupt city, where previous generations of aristocracy seemed to scorn actual governance as far beneath them, the religious authorities didn't find social causes profitable enough, and capitalist monopolies basically did whatever the hell they wanted. So Orchenis is bringing in these outsiders to take key roles in the city because they are less likely to have strong prevailing loyalties that get in the way of his plan of justice

This makes Hanu going to arrest Coralis make extra sense; Coralis is a child of the ruling house, has grown up with the expectation of inheriting the principate constantly dangled in front of him, and has had years to curry favour with anyone who's anyone. In that case, the person you can trust most would be the relative outsider, someone Coralis hasn't had an opportunity to sink hooks into.

Military History

Described as in his early forties, pale skin, light orange eyes, "with the crow’s feet of a man who spent a great deal of time squinting against sunlight."

Recently left the Army after a 20-year hitch, partly because being mixed-race interfered with his career progression, and partly because he felt that serving on the Anmur'theileian sucked and the war against the Nazhmorhathveras was unending and stupid

My Thoughts

I wonder whether/how much this man has interacted with:

Captain Verer Orthema

Who was the Anmur'theileian's commander for many years and married the daughter of the mayor of Vorenzhessar, a town in the western badlands

Has enough goblin ancestry to have a silver sheen to his skin and black hair, and says he has been called an "abomination" for it more than once

Unclear exactly when his service on the Evressai steppes ended, since he says that he considered Varinechebel a friend and cared for him deeply, but always disapproved of his treatment of Maia

Orthema is from eastern Thu-Tetar, which is on the opposite side of the elflands from the Evressai Steppes, and I really don't think they're related, although it's also hard to tell because Ezho was founded during the reign of Maia's grandfather thanks to a gold rush, so the Olgarezheise could theoretically have come from anywhere

But Hanu would have been several years into his army service by the time Chenelo died, so it's not at all impossible for him and Orthema to have overlapped for some years there

I guess I'm thinking about this so much because Thara seems headed right back to the Untheileneise Court with Hanu in tow, and I think about what that might be like for Hanu. He could be a complete outsider, but on the other hand, he might be comfortable with Captain Orthema, maybe even have been recommended to Prince Orchenis by him or another member of the Untheileneise Guard, and have his own niche to hang out in.

Also, Captain Orthema is described as a knight of Anmura, and talks about some other people serving in the Anmur'theileian as "our fellow knights" so now I'm all 👀 about Hanu's possible knightly status

Public... relations

So, there's this bit that haunts me:

“That cannot have been your first ghoul hunt,” he said. “No, I quieted several when I was the prelate of Aveio.” “Aveio?” “It is a small town in the prairies south of the Evressa. I can tell you nothing to recommend it,” I said, thinking of Evru—and of the coil of Evru’s hair in my room in the Amal’theileian. I had put that strand of his hair in Lenet Athmaza’s charm mostly as camouflage in case anyone asked, but now it was, ironically, quite genuine. “But it was good practice for ghoul hunting.” “Yes, should one wish to take that up as a hobby,” he said dryly. “It has proved useful,” I said. “Without that, the dragon would probably have shredded me.” “True enough. I…” He cocked his head. “I hear running water. Come on.”

And when thinking about geography, I think about Orthema saying, that the Nazhmorhathveras "will consider the towns of the badlands [like Vorenzhessar) as no more than prey, as they did before the Anmur’theileian was built"

And look, here's a detail from the map Christian Stiehl did of the Ethuveraz with Monette's/Addison's help as Witness for the Dead was being written:

So Vorenzhessar, which is on the other side of a mountain range from the steppes, was the frequent target of Evressai raids? And Aveio is a similar distance away, in a place where the Evresartha is slow and silty enough to produce dramatic meanders, but with flat prairie to ride across?

I'll say it. Weld a tin hat to my head, but I'll say it: Hanu would absolutely already know where Aveio is. Thara describes it as a ghost town with more graves than people, and says he was a rare commodity as someone who could quiet ghouls, which makes me think about what had to be done if the ghouls couldn't be quieted. Would burning them with fire be the kind of thing the army could be roped into helping with?

I'm left looking at that little trailing "I..." wondering if Hanu had known that there was a Witness vel ama in Aveio for a while.

If he heard about the scandal that befell him

If he was possibly about to put two and two together, or confess that he already had

Or had the tact to shut up about it just in time

Just, y'know. Things I wonder about.

[holybibly]

Hi bunnies, I talked about this yesterday, I don't want to bring it up again but it seems like people just can't stop and keep lighting fires. What confuses me the most is that they monitor my every post and action, it's really scary, it's some kind of unhealthy obsession and I can't understand what it's all about as I'm being accused of stalking and inflicting emotional and psychological trauma, but they all literally live on my blog.

Sorry if that sounds rude, but this is almost yandere behaviour. Please move on with your own lives. Do you really enjoy spreading hate? You call yourselves "protectors", adults, proper and well-behaved people, but literally everyone from my legal department who helps me in this situation is literally shocked by the messages you send me. It's almost a form of stalking.

I have never touched you, I have never followed your blogs or existed in your ecosystem, I have never written anything specifically for you, I have never been interested in communicating with you, and so on. Leave me alone, go about your life, drink some tea, go for a walk, read a book or whatever. Live an elegant life that you are not ashamed of.

And now that I have met such people, I understand why many authors stop writing and leave the platform and the fandom, it's too toxic to be calmly surrounded by such people who wish you, and I quote, "I hope you spit out your guts". Or do you think that any of the idols, not only in our fandom but in general, will appreciate such behaviour from fans? You are literally forcing people to stop supporting groups because of such negativity.

Now I want to say that I am very grateful for all the support and understanding I have received from both my subscribers and people who are new to my blog.

I am so sorry that you have had to go through all of this, so I would like to apologise for the fact that you have had to see all of this and deal with so much negative and humiliating information.

I am ashamed that my safe and comfortable environment has suddenly turned into a real battleground, fuelled by people who do not know me or my blog at all, and who are basing their conclusions on someone else's words and unfounded accusations.

You are right, it is not easy, at the moment I have over 100 malicious messages in my inbox, ranging from personal death wishes for me and even my cats, to the most disgusting and horrible insults I have ever heard in my life.

I have asked several times to leave me and my blog alone, but people persist in sowing chaos, hatred and malice, so I will warn you one last time, otherwise the whole internet, and not just Tumblr, will find out about this channel. All platforms that have any influence in the K-pop community will find out your names and real ages.

During the investigation, I managed to find out not only the names of the aggressive and malicious users, but also their real ages, among which, beware, there are several minors.

Also, my legal department provided me with complete information about the term and the concept of "r*pe", both in medical and legal terms, and to return to my earlier words, if you do not understand the terms you are operating with, go and familiarise yourself with the information, it is publicly available and free.

As this is a very sensitive subject, I don't want to go into it or give a detailed explanation in my blog, so I'm going to talk about it minimally and in a short post with warnings.

I want to end this now, while we can still part on a positive note and go on with our own lives without any crossover. I don't want to get involved with you, it's just childish and stupid behaviour, it's an inappropriate and unhealthy fixation. Otherwise, every anonymous post will be published with the username of the user who sent it to me, and then your own moment of "glory" will come. Someone once said that karma always pays in full, and it's true.

I hope I have made my point and this will be my last post on this subject. And if I get an anonymous "I'm not afraid of you bitch" after this, I'll see what you say when everyone sees who you are.

That's all.

[skepticalarrie]

Hi Allie, hope you're doing well. I didn’t know you were from Latin America—so cool to meet another latina:)

I’m trying to understand more about H and L’s careers and had a question after going through your industry tag. I’m confused about how the management team and record label work together. I get mixed opinions on whether the artist is more controlled by their manager or label. I asked ChatGPT (lol), and it said they collaborate, but management protects the artist while meeting label requirements. That makes sense in Harry's case because Jeff has done a good job overall, and they seem to have a good relationship. But what confuses me is Jeff’s role during the holivia mess, where the director seemed more like Jeff’s client than Harry, especially with rumors about Azoff’s financial interest in the film's success (which was very clear imo). Also, Harry clearly seemed upset at that time ( I don't think he was upset at Jeff specifically, but more angry about the whole situation).

I’ve also read from someone who works in the industry that the Azoff contracts are very restrictive, and I thought that kind of contracts were more label-related than a management thing.

Could you clarify the role of each team, please?

Thanks so much! :)

It’s really nuanced, and honestly, everything depends on the contracts. There’s no definitive answer to this.

Label contracts and management contracts are totally independent. So in theory, you could have a strict label contract while having a management team that actually has your back. On the other hand, you could be signed to a more flexible label (like an independent one) but have a management team that’s more controlling. And sometimes, the label and management are completely aligned, which means they’re working together in ways that may or may not benefit the artist.

From my understanding:

Label → They’re investing the money, so they own the artist’s music and control how everything is marketed. The artist is contractually obligated to deliver music, and the label decides when, how, and sometimes even what they release. The bigger the artist, the more control the label will want (whether it’s influencing their image, sound, or release timeline, etc). Therefore, I’d say the more restrictive contracts and “control” are coming from the label side, in general. Because it’s their investment, they’re the ones putting money into it 💰💰💰

Management → They work for the artist, not the label. But that doesn’t mean they’re always on the artist’s side, I mean, they have their own interests, too. You can have a strict management contract while being on a more flexible label, or vice versa. At the end of the day, management’s goal is also profit. They’re not the artist’s best friends; they’re there to negotiate, advocate, and execute day-to-day career decisions. They can’t override the label, but they can push for better deals, marketing, and overall strategy.

About Holivia, I don’t know if Jeff was prioritizing Olivia as a person over Harry’s feelings, but listen… I’m going to hold your hand when I say this: management’s job is to handle an artist’s career, not their personal happiness. It’s business. The Azoffs are deeply connected in Hollywood, and it’s pretty clear they had financial and industry interests tied into Harry’s success as an actor, especially DWD.

I think that the biggest thing that makes fans frustrated with management teams is that it’s hard to separate personal relationships from business decisions. Harry seems close to the Azoffs, so it’s natural we assume they’d protect him personally. But should we really see it that way? Or should we be looking at it through a business lens rather than personal loyalty? Because that’s how the industry actually works. I know it sucks, and we all want to protect Harry, but it’s not how it works.

We don’t know how Harry personally deals with this kind of situation. But if I were in his position, I’d also want to stay very friendly with the people making major business decisions for me because that’s where I’d have a better shot at them actually protecting my interests. I don’t know if Harry was personally upset with Jeff, but he definitely seemed frustrated with the whole situation.

[box-off]

My theory for P3 is that he is what P2 thinks he could never be. Think of it, P3s character is very much different from P2, he's annoying, his humor, while edgy, is a bit more stupid and, you know, 2010's can i has cheeseburger type of deal, he is a fucking pedophile, and, in general, his actions, while they still hurt others, he's a lot more playful with them, which is especially easy to see in Paradise Lost. He messes with P2, makes him go through stuff and fight a whole bunch of people, what seems to be just for shits and giggles. While P2 nukes the city, because he doesn't give a fuck. As well as the "I'm not a bigot" thing, while yeah, I would probably say P3 isn't really that much more racist that P2, he is definitely homophobic! So, he's 1 point above P2 in his bigotedness.

While, yeah, both of them are Postal Dudes, they have the dark humor and edge, they express it differently. And Just, let me compare them real quick in physical matters.

P2: Balding, built like a chopstick, poorly shaved, greasy looking skin and hair, biggest eye bags I have ever seen.

P3: broad shoulders, visible body mass, stylish hair, and even tho he's homeless and drinks like crazy, some how he looks clean. (Bonus: badass gloves.)

Also, P3 has a very fragile masculinity, and while P2 could handle going around town in a gimp suit while everybody laughs? P3 was scared that someone will see him use a segway, because "that's gay". You make that guy go through what P2 had to go, and he will combust on the spot!

Lets also adres his addiction. P2 is a crackhead, no doubt in that, we all know it. P3?? You don't even have health pipes in that game, what are you talking about- (P3 does mention them, but since they are not present in the game, we can imagine that he either quit, or just isn't addicted to them)

My point is, since P3 is made up by P2's imagination, he is kind of the Tyler Durden for him. P3 is all that P2 is not. He's handsome, he's masculine, he's playful and stupid, and he gets the hot chick and he lives an amazing life and everybody loves him! But on the other hand, he is also all that P2 would rather dismiss and just forget as any other intrusive though that pops into someones head. Like, "What if I'm the president and I press the red button??" or "What if my Uncle is actually related to Osama Bin Laden and is now after me??" when you know fucking well that those scenarios are VERY unreal, and you just go "Yo, what the hell?? Why would I think about that??", P3 and Catharsis, manifest all those things into themselves, and this guy comes to life just to annoy the shit out of P2.

To finish it off. Imagine all your weird ideas and insecurities come to live into 1 person. They look like the perfect version of you, except they only speak in the most recent memes, and make your life a living hell, more than it already was. I would also drop kick his ass back to the back of my mind.

[nthspecialll]

Could you talk a bit about the wapiti tribe? I am not there yet and I doubt I will since every time I boot the game a wave of sadness hits me as my Arthur cough reminding me of his unchangeable fate and my aim is worst that a blind drunk out of his mind but I come to really like Eagle Flies and would love to know more about him

(Sorry for bothering, I should just play the game instead of bothering you with ask. Feel free to ignore)

Oh yeah of course, I will give a general idea without too much spoilers and then some more heavy spoilers underneath the cut.

Since you are mentioning Arthur's coughing I am guessing you are in chapter 6 or at least past chapter four where you help Eagle Flies steal information from Cornwall Tar and Oil company.

The general plot with the tribe is one that has been seen many times in real life, the army wanting to move Native Americans from their land and onto a reservation (or a rez, which I have seen some Native American now a days call them on tikok, idk how I ended up on Native tiktok but I get to see some beautiful powwows and regalias). The problem with the tribe is that they have moved onto a reservation but they are now told to move again because they have been told there is oil in the area.

The army isn't allowed to just move the tribe but need proper reason and what Colonel Favours has resorted to is framing the Natives as mean or foul. He makes a bunch of contracts and deals, then says the Natives doesn't keep and thus he can hold back medicine, food and vacines. But the truth is, they do hold up their end of the deals, it is the army who doesn't, but who would believe them.

Rains Fall, the chief, tries over and over to take political and lawful action, peaceful action together with Captian Monroe, a part of the army who was sent to make a report on the situation but is in truth helping the tribe the best he can. Meanwhile Eagle Flies gets more and more angry because he can see the army doesn't have any interest in holding their end of the deals, so he acts out.

Dutch is also introduced to Eagle Flies and pushes him to do more and more, to attack and fight. He tells Eagle Flies to humiliate the army, Eagle Flies ends up captured and tortured, meanwhile Dutch draws attention away from the gang and "people will blame everyone on the Indian situation" (his words), aka he pushes his crimes on the natives.

HEAVY SPOILERS UNDERNEATH

Not to mention the mission where Eagle Flies dies, when they attacked the Oil Company, that was Dutch's idea, he encouraged it! And what did the Natives gain? Nothing, meanwhile the gang gained a shit ton of money.

Rains Fall says to Arthur in A Fine Art Of Conversation, which is after their sacred spot was burned down by drunk army men: "when we find out medicine and surplies are being deliberately withheld, how can we not see it as something personal? When they destory our sacred sites? How can I convince Eagle Flies and the others not to fight back?" to which Charles replies "Maybe that is part of why they destory these things, they want you to fight back." Which is pretty much what the army wants.

After Eagle Flies and a big part of the tribe is killed, Rains Fall gives up and moves to Canada with the help of Charles, though even more of them are murdered in Wvyoming by the army. They will make it to Canada but as nothing but "Just a few families", Rains Fall will come back in the epilouge where you can meet him after he visited his son's grave.

And sadly all of it was for little, the reservation did not hold oil.

[ddlydevotion]

bobby kennedy ‘rfk’ x fem reader husband hcs…

currently listening to: Tomorrow Never Came by LDR ݁₊ ⊹ . !!

Bobby isn’t a stranger to having a rebellious streak every once in a while. He has absolutely no issue going up against his parents with the purpose of defending you. If your upbringing or religion (or lack thereof) comes into discussion, he’s defending you as if the world will end if he doesn’t.

He’ll most likely resort to straight up lying about your religious status if it means saving you from his parent’s wrath.

He’s constantly making you laugh with his witty remarks. There’s been many moments where he’s made you laugh unintentionally but it makes him smile knowing he’s the one who’s made you giggle. It is one of his favorite sounds, after all.

Bobby worries much more than he’d like to about his brother, Jack, trying to make a move on you. He knows his brother, I mean he’s seen the way his brother deals with his urges. He also knows full well that the fact Jack is married won’t stop him from indulging in his desires. As Evan Thomas said: “He needed to indulge this phenomenal and really unseemly sex drive. It was for rich girls, poor girls, old girls, young girls, all girls all the time.”

Bobby puts up a somewhat hard exterior in public because that is what’s necessary when pursuing a career in politics. However, he’s sickeningly sweet when it comes to you. He cannot contain his love for you even when the two of you are in front of dozens of cameras.

There are dozens upon dozens of photos of the two of you looking at each other like lovesick puppies.

Bobby rarely ever gets angry with you. For the simple fact that he’s considered the ‘softer’ one of the brothers, I believe he’d do an incredible job at comforting you. He’s a sturdy shoulder for you to lean on and he takes great pride in being so. He’d hate for you to feel as if you need to hide your feelings, negative or positive.

He is sososo gentle with you in general but especially when you’re crying and in need of comfort. He’ll hold you within his arms that give the illusion of a warm blanket, and kiss your hair.

This man is constantly taking photographs of you 🙄. There’s no use in attempting to hide behind your hands because he’ll just take a photo of that, too. Has a habit of writing the cutest of things on these photographs.

can get a bit insecure when it comes to certain aspects of his political abilities, but you’re always there to reassure him. He leans into your touch and his face is painted with a shy smile as a result of your praise.

“The people adore you, Bobby. They love you. Not as much as me, of course, but you’re the number one candidate in their hearts. Okay?”

Never fails to thank you in his speeches.

Calls you sweet girl, baby, sweetheart, honey. All of those little nicknames fall off his tongue oh so sweetly.

spoils you endlessly. He’s amazing when it comes to gift giving and uses that to his advantage. He remembers every little thing about you and it truly shines through in not just his gift giving, but also in every aspect of your relationship.

It’s quite a lot to get used to as you’re not used to being surrounded with such obvious symbols of wealth. Don’t even bother trying to stop him from spending his very well earned money on you. He’s simply going to press a lingering kiss to your lips before saying, “let me take care of my girl.”

He’s painfully devoted to you. The two of you got married very early on in your relationship. He didn’t see the point in waiting.

Sharing beautiful evenings with him by the sea in Hyannis Port. Films you lying underneath the sun shade, draped in the bathing suit he purchased for you. He swears, there’s nowhere he’d rather be than right there with you.

a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading and I’ll most likely do a part two 💌🪽🍨.

Taglist: @bobbykennedyswife @melancholicstation @lancerslover @vintagedebutante

[taffywabbit]

[kind of a longwinded vent post i guess, i was gonna just make a sort of tired joke post but then it actually wasn't a joke oops. don't feel obligated to read this, i just need to put my thoughts somewhere]

man. i am wayyy too damn busy this week to be getting hit with as many heavy thoughts and potentially entire-perspective-on-life-altering realizations about my identity and mental health as i have been. why can't i ever have important stuff to think about during literally any time when my life affords me the time and energy to think about it properly. it just ends up being loud background static behind my existing stress every time because it's like... i obviously do have tangible stuff i NEED to prioritize, and it's reasonable for me to put that first, but i still end up feeling like i'm somehow being cowardly or irresponsible by putting off the internal processing that's demanding i pay more attention to it.

i'm literally just living that one post that's like "i'm probably nonbinary but i have a job so i don't really care about that right now" or whatever, except i'm already trans so swap that first part out for a growing list of possible untreated mental illnesses, an increasingly-hard-to-ignore identity crisis, the looming dread that i cannot keep treading water in my current stagnant career forever. also, most notably, a general sense that i have no idea where my life is going or what i want from it now that i've finally broken down my mental wall labeled "you can't pursue anything else you want until you get your ass in gear and start transitioning already", gotten some joy out of that, and then realized there wasn't much else it was actually obstructing. and it's like. breaking that wall DID at least give me a clearer view of things and now i have plenty of other important stuff i could unpack, but it feels like i'm just stuck on a nonstop conveyor belt of "actually i don't have time for that because i'm behind on work again" that prevents me from making real tangible progress in figuring my shit out, even now.

like i am aware this is very much a "GOD i need to talk to a therapist" type situation but guess what! seeing a therapist costs a lot of money (yes, even in canada) and takes time and effort to set up, and if i want those things i'd better get my work done! except oops now i'm once again too busy to do anything BUT work, because i burned out and slowed down and the work took too long again and now i no longer have the time for the genuine proper break i needed in order to do anything for myself besides earn money.

one of the most frustrating parts is that HRT has seemingly made me a lot more emotionally sensitive and outwardly reactive (as it reportedly does for many people), and instead of that being the cathartic experience it should be, it usually just manifests as all my shit very visibly unraveling at the seams as i spiral and make an ass of myself and push people away, where i previously would've at LEAST been able to hold it together a bit better. so not only do i feel like i'm not making progress, it's constantly taking all the energy i can spare just to avoid crashing out and burning all my bridges and leaving myself with no external supports. my friends are kinda all i have right now, and i'm painfully aware that the more i procrastinate sorting out my issues, the more danger there is that i'll damage my relationships with those i care about if any of this internal pressure leaks out at the wrong time. which then becomes yet another fear to add to the pile of stuff i'm not equipped to deal with right now

idk. i was about to instinctively say "i'm fine tho" and that's very clearly a lie, but like. i WILL continue to manage at least. i'm not in any physical danger from myself or others, nothing is gonna happen to me, you don't have to worry about anything like that. i'm just overwhelmed and exhausted, and i don't have any good outlets for talking about this shit anymore besides just dumping it on friends at random, which feels shitty and i would really prefer not to make a habit of it. i just feel like i'm waiting for some kinda stroke of good fortune to come along and perk me up and give me enough of a jolt of extra energy to start doing things differently, kinda like last year when i suddenly stumbled into getting my transition stuff started and then THAT gave me enough confidence and excitement to seek out an ADHD diagnosis a couple months later. just something to break me out of this routine temporarily and help me feel unburdened enough that i can do SOMETHING, y'know?

but in the meantime i feel like i just need to like. signal in some way that i am Really Going Through It, if only to counter my own instinctive efforts to always maintain this illusion of perfect functionality and never cause any problems or allow anyone to worry about me or be annoyed by me ever. professionalism be damned, i make art for a living, i do not have the luxury of separating my job from my self-expression and trying to pretend everything's going smoothly in terms of work will always kinda inherently come at the cost of trying to convince myself it's going smoothly in my personal life too. to some extent i suppose MOST people don't - the shit that affects you at home is gonna affect you at your office job too, sooner or later - but in my case the false wall of work-life balance is like a two-way mirror, because drawing is also my most treasured hobby and lifelong source of comfort, and any outward-facing concept of professionalism i construct only exists for my audience. there's no fooling myself with this stuff, it's all i have and all i do and the only difference is that sometimes people pay me for it so it becomes "work", but not the kind i get to clock out of at 5pm on weekdays. if i'm going to talk about what i'm going through and be open about my feelings at all and encourage people to see me as a living breathing person, it inherently is going to make me look like i'm also complaining about my job, because my job is to make art and my art (paid or not) conveys a part of who i am. i cannot present myself as brand-safe and a human being at the same time, at least not without driving myself (more) insane

anyways this isn't an essay or anything, i don't have a conclusion? thank you for being here i guess. i feel like i'm at least breathing like 5% easier after getting all that rambling out of me, so that's something at least? i will now go buckle down and try to finish my remaining art obligations and then hopefully when that's done i will make a responsible choice and wait long enough before piling more work onto myself to just like. breathe for a sec and seriously consider if there's perhaps a better way to be doing what i'm doing so it does not make me crumble into dust. and also maybe pick like ONE life-shattering realization or crisis to poke at a little bit, if i feel up to it. hey btw did you know this whole post was originally going to just be a very short one where i half-jokingly reflected on the possibility that i might actually be autistic, but then started thinking way too much about why my brain refuses to latch onto that thought and keeps pushing it aside with a big stick labeled "who cares, i'm tired" and this post happened instead. yeah. anyways that's the most recent small addition to The Pile in case you were curious, yippee

[revive-the-fandom]

You didn't have to go that hard in the tags of the jack post

this one ?

I will stand by my belief that Jack is a civilian, not a fighter. I mean, aside from the fact that he looks shit scared and completely out of his element whenever theres a threat,

(some exceptions notwithstanding) there's also his total lack of fighting technique.

He has maybe 3 moves, total:

standing in defence (staff raised in front of him, usually tight to his body with both hands gripping it)

2. using momentum or distraction to carry a hit (see how he's gripping the staff towards the base so he can give it a wider swing - generating more momentum which makes the hit harder)

3. sparkles attack

and sparkles attack is a very new thing for him, it's the only reason he has any confidence in a fight, because he thinks he's discovered the atom bomb of attacks.

but it's not actually that effective, it caught Pitch off-guard sure, it revealed Jack's potential, sure, but once Pitch knew what he was up against he countered it easy-peasy.

what the sparkles attack actually does is give Jack a ranged attack, which is where he's most comfortable.

(side note: rotg does have a continuity issue with the sparkles attack. It's supposed to be a new thing, as previously he was limited to using touch to summon frost/ice onto a surface,

even in the sled scene, he's still using touch by dragging his staff on the ground, summoning the ice and then directing it after the fact.

but there's two instances prior to the sparkles being discovered where he uses that ranged ability,

he shouldn't have that ability yet, hence, continuity issue).

so having that ranged attack allowed him a foothold in a fight, but he's still inexperienced, so you end up with those moments in the final fight where he's caught off guard,

and while I'm arguing here that it's because he's a civilian and is not trained to deal with these situations, there's also his overarching development coming into play here.

He's spent the rest of the movie relying on others, dodging responsibility, and the antartica/memory scene really signals a change for him where he accepts that he needs to hold his own weight a little more. Him charging into this fight solo?

to me, that's the warning signs that Jack's taken that lesson too far. He's aware that he needs to hold his own in a fight, but he lacks the experience to understand that he needs to do so in moderation.

but that's a problem for future Jack (and fics) to deal with.

I want to circle back for one last point,

the comfort staff. Jack is constantly holding his staff up like this - close to his body, both hands gripping it. But this isn't a good defensive stance, he's not ready for an attack here.

Jack's attacks have him holding the staff in one hand,

there are some exceptions, but in general, he's attacking one handed. Again, using the momentum of the swing to carry his shots.

A much better defensive stance for Jack would probably be, funnily enough, a more open one. But that's where confidence is needed, and confidence comes with experience, which Jack doesn't have.

Jack behaves like a scared civilian, because he is one as far as I'm concerned lmao.

anyway, I apologise for the tangent, I'll take any excuse to yap about my boy.

[coriolisunset]

one thing that makes me particularly hopeful about june's transition in beyond canon is that in all likelihood we are going to get TWO distinct storylines out of it: one for meat june and one for candy june.

the last update had laid down the foundations of candy june's transition by putting on fragrant display her unwillingness to face her actual life as an adult who has to decide for herself who to be and what to do, as someone who has a personhood rather than a role to play and responsibilities rather than a quest to follow. she is so attached to the comfortable oppression of sburb that not only has she let it alienate her from everybody who was dear to her, she even reacts with palpable RELIEF (bordering on the villainous) at harry giving her an excuse to get back in the game, even if it's because he's decided he would rather fuck off into a hellhole adventure rather than have to deal with her.

meat june, on the other hand... is a corpse. this obviously puts her in a way different position, but it's ironically one that has a much clearer path to her coming out. despite being 20 years younger, this june has reached the logical endpoint of her candy counterpart's hyper-identification with the sburb narrative and has been consumed by it, getting killed in the progress of fulfilling her predestined role. her only hope for coming back to life is as a sprite in the new session, a literal sburb game piece; being thrust into this new state of being could very well be the triggering event for a serious, much-needed identity crisis. in addition, there's the matter of what she's been up to as a corpse: we don't have much explicit information about what the furthest ring/afterlife's like these days but presumably it now contains the noir city where catnapped and the hyperbolic helltier chamber take place in (the sprites who were left in the incipisphere are there, vriska reaches it through a pinhole in calliope's black hole, jasprose's fenestrated walls are connected to it...) so that also offers another avenue for meat june's personal journey to develop, especially given the connection between the problem sleuth characters living there and the vision of the table-and-chair from when ace dick played the game of life in death's bubble.

part of the reason i hope it turns out this way is that candy june's transition seems like it's shaping up to be a delicious mess, a story about a deeply traumatised trans woman cracking out of her egg right as her dysfunctional coping mechanisms have turned her own family and friends against her and are threatening to push her into a villainous role as dirk's counterpart, nominally benevolent yet just as destructively attached to the narrative, but it's also one that given the state of media discourse and the fandom would VERY easily be read in VERY bad faith ("oh snap john is transitioning but she's EVIL that will surely show all those trannies june truthers classic hussie trolling"), so showing off a more sympathetic transition narrative right alongside it could give the team enough cover to explore it fully.

anyway this is how grimdorks can still win (candy june and rose bond over being shunned and over their shared attachment to The Narrative so they get together; this development weirds THE FUCK out of the other characters and also generates absolutely radioactive wasteland levels of discourse from the worst people you can imagine)

[starlightwoofwoof]

🐞💜✨ Random DW x MLB AU Fun Facts, Featuring Random Doodles!!! YIPPEE [Part 1?? I think I’m gonna make this a series lol why not] ✨💜🐞

okay where do I start uhhhhhh let’s start with some fruitcake why not

🍓💖✨ Sprout, Cosmo, Dessert Despair and The Vine Guardian ✨💖🍓

I have now decided that Dessert and Guardian’s ship name is Protectivedessert :]

I feel like if they met, Dessert and Guardian would just hug each other for hours on end

Not sure which one of them is taller, but they might be the same height, idk-

If they are, Guardian is sulking and going limp in Dessert’s arms because he’s just that happy to see him 💖✨

I do feel like Guardian would trap Dessert and take care of him too much lol

I’m not sure about the specifics of Sprout’s akumatization, but I like to think it was because either he thought something bad happened to Cosmo and he got hurt or something bad did happen to Cosmo. Either way, it made Sprout feel terrible for not being able to help him

🦋💜✨ Allureium and Akumatization in general ✨💜🦋

about time I talked more about the main villain and his funky little powers!!

The way Allureium manipulates the toons changes between who he’s talking to. If the victim is more likely to give in and accept his deal, he’s nicer to them and tries to convince them that he’s trying to help them. (Goob, Toodles, etc.) However, if they’re not willing to succumb so easily, Allureium will just straight up bully them into accepting 💀 (Rodger, Sprout and even Glisten, as seen in my comic about his akumatization-)

Not sure what you would call the dark transformation stuff that releases out of the possessed item after the victim accepts, but the miraculous wiki refers to it as ‘ether’ (I personally like to call it transformation goop lol)

btw if you didn’t know, to free the akuma victims, you have to break their possessed item. The victims usually don’t remember what happened during their time as a villain

Akumas can basically change your whole brain chemistry, like, a toon can go from being friends with someone to completely despising them

This doesn’t happen in the show, but I like to think that the akuma victims show different side effects, as shown in the AU introduction- (headaches and aches in general, nausea, passing out for hours or even DAYS after their defeat depending on how powerful they were, etc.)

The toons react differently to their possessions afterwards, obviously- mainly depending on how aggressive their villain side is (some of them just accept that it happened and moved on, some of them feel guilty after but feel better eventually, some of them have genuine trauma from it …… *cough* G L I S T E N *cough*, etc.)

… omg what if the transformation goop is ichor in this AU AND ALL THEIR AKUMA FORMS ARE THE TWISTEDS OH MY GO- (sorry getting ahead of myself lol, still gotta figure out the cartoon)

🖤❤️✨ Drama King and Dazzle ✨❤️🖤

figured I’d give these guys their own section because you guys seemed to really like them last time :3

Drama King has complete control over both of their legs, but Dazzle still has control over their right arm

Drama hates having to share his “rise to fame” with Dazzle (it’s like with what I said about the whole changing thing- Razzle would normally love his brother dearly, but as Drama, he doesn’t anymore)

I feel like despite Drama being giggly and laughing all the time, he has some big anger issues. Especially when Dazzle is “nagging” to him about how he shouldn’t do what he’s doing, and how much he misses Razzle. The true Razzle

Someone reblogged with an idea of how Razzle got corrupted because of multiple cancellations and rejections to just be apart of backstage work, and I love the idea- cause y’know, it makes sense (and it’s angsty lol)

Dazzle tried to make Razzle feel better about the whole situation they were in, but I feel like Dazzle wouldn’t be … great at comforting people-

🍭🌈✨ Extra Fun Facts ✨🌈🍭

extra fun facts I couldn’t really fit into a whole category lol (it’s mostly about Basserker and Hatred lol)

I feel like Basserker and Hatred’s ship name would either be Sharkbite or Sharkattack or something like that :3

Basserker has a great sense of smell, but his nose is very sensitive, booping it would probably make him jolt, even if he’s expecting it

Hatred’s arms are longer than they should be

I feel like Shrimpo didn’t accept Allureium’s deal for him (“I HATE BEING AKUMATIZED”) …… until Allureium promised violence-

I feel like I should mention Dandy, since he isn’t the main character anymore- Shelly replaced him for the main protagonist role in this AU lol

Dandy runs a little supermarket with help from Pebble, of course :]

okie I think that’s all I can think of for now!! 💙✨