#i’m being a little silly this evening in regards to the way i feel ab blasphemy things

[mistmessenger]

ab imo pectore | 2: In vino veritas

Royalty AU - Copia x Original female character

18+ MDNI

TLDR: Copia and Wren struggle to get to know each other.

I’ve read this over and over to the point I don’t know if I like it anymore so I’m just dragging it out of the drafts and running away.

Content Warnings: Abusive parent (verbal and physical), violence, religious trauma, arranged marriage, eventual smut, some period-typical sexism down the line, some medieval torture graphic gore down the line (not relating to main characters), alcohol/drunkness

Chapters: 1 | 2 |

It had been three months since her arrival and Copia was as perplexed as the day she was first imposed upon him.

She gave him so very little to work with. He couldn’t fault her work, she outdid even his former assistant. In fact, she was a blessing in that regard. He had so much spare time now, making it much easier to manage and expand his network of rats throughout the kingdom, scouring information for him.

He had dreaded the idea of her being too talkative, but instead found himself blighted with the opposite problem. He was never great at idle chatter with most people, but with Wren he found it akin to drawing blood from a stone.

Three months had known the girl and knew next to nothing about her.

Every attempt he had made to dig a little, to scrape away the well polished surface of her and examine what lay underneath was met with one word answers and deflection.

It shouldn’t be like this.

If anything it should have been a valuable information gathering exercise on Edwin, finding some fault or dreadful family secret that Copia could store away for safekeeping, should he ever need leverage. No doubt her father had warned her to stay tight lipped.

He could tell there was something. Something in the way she practically bristled every time her father walked into the room, like all life and colour were drained from her. It itched at Copia, a need to know what bad blood lay between them.

Without much conversation to judge her on, he had found himself intensely studying her body language, looking for any signs of cracks in her composure.

 With that came something unwanted. The girl was pretty, he had seen that from the start. But it was becoming more than just a simple appreciation of her features.

The last thing he needed was a distraction. And yet he caught himself stealing glances at her, not to read into her body language, but to catch a glimpse of the way she bit the tip of her tongue when deep in thought, her lips parted slightly. The way she would stretch, her back arching slightly after a particularly long stint at her desk.

She was yet to buy into the norms of palace fashion, often electing for practical outfits more appropriate for the harsh coastal weather of Embercliff compared to the extravagant wardrobes of the nobility in Zenia. It was rare for him to see her with the face paints that most typically wore around the palace - there was no pattern in her behaviours that Copia could pick out just yet - some days she would arrive to their shared office with thick full paints, for seemingly no reason or appointment.

The list of little things he picked up on grew by the day, much to his own irritation - He didn’t need the embarrassment of having a silly infatuation at his age.

Not to mention he was certain Wren found him abhorrent, being able to count on two hands the number of times she’d made direct eye contact with him. It was clear in Copia’s mind that whatever attraction he was beginning to feel towards her would not be reciprocated.

On the evening of the Kings birthday, an extravagant event which seen nobles from across the kingdom and further afield flocking to the palace for a night of feasting and revelry, Copia had found himself stuck in Edwin’s quarters, opposite him at a desk.

He was there to discuss possible import taxes, some ideas that Edwin could float with the ambassadors joining them at the party that night and get feedback.

Copia hated these parties. They were of course great information gathering exercises, but he found them exhausting, attempting to keep a suave and well polished appearance til all unholy hours of the morning. Each conversation was a game, each player trying to one up one another, or trying to make the other slip and divulge something they shouldn’t.

The pair were interrupted when Wren entered the quarters. She wore a long sleeved black dress, plain, but figure hugging and adorned with her usual broaches and jewels. Her paints were simple, white face, black eyes and lips.

Simple, but still enough for Copia’s eye to widen as his gaze swept from her head to her toes.

“Miss Greye, you look-“

“Underdressed.” Copia was cut off by Edwin’s sharp single worded admonishment. Both Copia and Wren frowned in response. He continued on before either could speak, standing and ushering Wren into a side room.

“A moment, Copia”.

“Of course.” He muttered. The hushed whispers behind the closed doors were almost inaudible to him, but he managed to pick up some of their argument.

“What happened the blue one?”

“I don’t care if it’s hideous, you represent me, and I will not have you show me up looking like someone’s handmaid.”

“Of course Father.”

When the door reopened, Wren didn’t spare Copia a glance as she hurried from the room, her jaw clenched.

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

It felt like an age before he saw her again, catching a glimpse of her across the hall during the feast. The black dress now exchanged for a light blue number with petticoats and frills. Her face paint now more intricate, with features of a skull now painted along her cheeks.

From what Copia could see she was managing to engage with the guests she was seated with, deep in conversation. But her movements seemed stiff. Having studied her so often it was apparent she was uncomfortable.

Wren quite enjoyed the feast, much to her surprise, being sat at a table besides Lady Fulsworth, who proved good company. It put her at ease a little.

She still felt some embarrassment after her father’s scolding earlier, especially when Copia was within earshot.

She couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to say to her before her father cut him off. Did he think she had looked good?

He was only being polite. Don’t read into it too much.

Of course, the few swigs of absinthe she had taken when she had gone back to her quarters to change were helping the night pass by easier. Terzo had been kind enough to gift her a small bottle after one of their many late meetings.

As a crowd began to stir on the ballroom floor, Wren had mingled on the outskirts for as long as she could before her father introduced some diplomat for her to dance with. Any reluctance she had was quickly shooed away when her father jabbed her in the rib.

After the awkwardness of making small talk with a few dance partners, she felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest when Copia approached to offer his hand. Maybe it was the liquor, but his presence felt like a comfort, offering her respite from the inane small talk and false pleasantries. The silence they shared while dancing didn’t feel stifling as it normally did, instead calming her.

“I preferred the other one, personally.” Copia murmured, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. He couldn’t help but smile at the way her eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Pardon, my Lord?”

“The black dress. It looked much better. Much more, eh… you.”

The pair swayed through the ballroom floor. Wren staying silent for a moment, shaking her head. Still, to Copia’s irritation, she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“That’s a novel way of telling me I look like an idiot…”

Copia wasn’t sure if she had intended for him to hear, but he did, only just. He smiled, tilting his head at her.

“Now, now. That’s not what I was implying. This is nice, but…”

Wren winced as she stumbled against him. She had been doing a reasonably good job of hiding her tipsy state.

She looked up just in time to notice Copia’s raised eyebrow. But if he realised the cause of her blunder, he chose not to say anything.

Looking aside quickly, concerned that her father might have seen her, “I’m not a great dancer.” she mumbled feebly.

She glanced at him in time to notice the coy smile that crossed his lips as he exhaled a breathy laugh, “Nonsense. You’re doing just fine.”

In her own defence, she was doing fine, better than she had anticipated. Growing up, she had never quite got the knack of remembering which step came in which order. But what surprised her more was the ease with which Copia moved. He was graceful, compared to his awkward gait when she would see him or accompany him throughout the palace.

She felt herself flush a little in response to his reassuring words.

It was a bad idea, letting his words get to her. But it had been months now, of his kindness, even if it was rooted in digging dirt on her and the family, as her father had warned her. It was pathetic, the way her heart fluttered every time he complimented some inane thing she had done, each time he asked her about herself and she had to restrain herself from giving too much away.  

“You look well, my Lord.”

It wasn’t an empty compliment. Her eyes had been drawn all evening to the white suit that fitted him so well.

He smirked, shaking his head as he pulled her a little closer to guide her in the next step of their waltz.

“I’m glad you think so. My tailor did the best they could but… the colours are, eh… off, you see?” Removing his hand from her back, he gestured to his trousers, bringing attention to how the fabric of his tailcoat was a more off white, compared to his trousers.

“Oh,” she mumbled, looking away quickly after examining the trousers. The colour was not what she had noticed. They were tight. Best not let her eyes linger too long.

Much too soon for both of them, the song came to its conclusion, and they went their separate ways to new partners.

Copia watched best as he could in his limited peripheral vision as she danced with various men of the court. Her interactions with the three princes were of particular interest to him.

Primo seemed to do most of the talking while they danced. No doubt trying to ease the tension she felt, out of her depth at such an event that she could usually get away with avoiding back home. Primo had a knack for sensing these things. Many times in his youth when Copia had been dragged along to the palace, Primo was the one to calm him when the pressure mounted on him felt like it was too much, taking him aside and talking to him about anything and everything to distract him.

He caught a glimpse of her dancing with another duke when Secondo cut in, stoic as he offered her his hand. Copia had been close enough to see the uneasiness and apprehension on her face as she reached out to him. If the pair spoke at all, Copia did not see it. Secondo hardly spared her a glance, except to narrow his eyes in annoyance when she missed a step in their waltz.

Now Terzo... that was enough to make Copia scoff to himself.

Of course.

Of course the woman seemed at ease once she began dancing with him. She was even smiling. Copia wasn’t sure if he had ever seen her smile before. Not the polite smiles to keep up appearances in court, but a real smile – one that reached her eyes, making them gleam.

No doubt Terzo was doing what he did best. Flirting. And the poor girl seemed to be eating it right up.

Copia made a note to himself to monitor her relationship with the youngest. Given her father's particularness, Copia was sure Terzo could cause a lot of trouble for her. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to protect her, or how to even attempt to do so.

Returning his focus onto socialising, Copia had lost track of her. When he decided to seek her out again for another dance, she was nowhere to be found.

He sighed, disappointed to have missed her before she left the party. Not that he blamed her. If he hadn’t had a list of nobles he needed to speak with to pry information he would have retired hours ago.

The party was still abuzz when Copia eventually did leave, not managing to reach the sanctuary of his room before he was stopped by one of Terzo’s aides.

“Prince Terzo would like to meet with you in his quarters.” The ghoul spoke in a hushed tone.

Pinching the bridge of his nose Copia nodded in agreement. He made his way through the halls, coming to a stop at the door of Terzo’s quarters. Within, he could hear him chattering and laughing with a guest.

Copia gritted his teeth. It wouldn’t be the first time Terzo had sent for him only to forget in favour of more… intimate company.

He listened intently, trying to figure out if he should save himself and Terzo’s poor guest the embarrassment of an interruption.

“Did you see the way he was following her around like a damned pup?” The younger Emeritus brother snickered.

“Oh, oh Seestor!” The woman was hardly able to contain her giggling as she made what Copia reckoned was a fairly accurate impression of Nihil. As he rapped on the door, their laughter stopped abruptly.

Hearing a groan inside, no doubt Terzo grumbling about having to answer his own door having sent away his aides, Copia sighed, trying to get his resentment at being called on at this hour out of his system.

Wren found herself strewn across one of the ornate guest chairs in Terzo’s quarters. Quarters much too lavish for a knight. But Wren supposed being third in line to the throne gave him some bargaining power with the decorators. Her legs were slung over the arm rest as she sipped her wine.

She was aware that she had drank enough at this point. Usually she would stop at the point of becoming tipsy, too concerned with maintaining her decorum to go further. On occasion however she enjoyed the feeling of being drunk, and the way her worries seemed to melt away in a haze.

It was an indulgence she had avoided since coming to the capital. It wasn’t something she could risk, under her father’s watchful eyes.

But tonight he was busy entertaining guests on behalf of the King, and his spies too busy monitoring them to bother her so she allowed herself to grasp the opportunity to unwind.

She had attempted to retire to her own rooms, but Terzo intervened, extending an invitation to his quarters, sneaking away to gossip and continue drinking.

These meetings with Terzo were one of the only saving graces of life in the palace. In spite of his reputation for being a flirt, he had quickly became a true friend to her.

She had come to know a different side of him, nothing like the reputation his name carried. It was a side made jaded and cynical by his youth, growing up as a known bastard brother of the current King, forced into a knighthood. The pair had become each other’s confidants in a short time.

She shrank into the chair, hiding herself from view as Terzo rose to greet the guest at his door.

To Copia’s surprise, Terzo was fully dressed, if not a bit dishevelled when he swung the door open.

“Copia! How wonderful to see you!” Terzo exclaimed, leaning against the doorframe. He squinted, confused, “Why are you here?”

Copia found himself gritting his teeth again in frustration.

“You called on me, your Grace.” He peeked over Terzo’s shoulder in an attempt at identifying his mystery guest, only to be met with the back of the large chair blocking sight of her. “But if you have company, I’d be more than happy to leave.”

“Ah. I did! I did.” Terzo grasps Copia’s arm, clumsily dragging him into the room. “Less of that talk. The more the merrier I say. In fact we were just discussing how much we love all this pomp and ceremony of our dear Nihil’s parties. An appreciation I’m sure you share. Worth every penny of the Kingdoms’ coin, yes?”

Copia rolled his eyes in a silent agreement at the sentiment. He watched as the dark haired man quickly makes him a drink. That bloody absinthe. Two sugar cubes. Good enough to make it bearable.

It wouldn’t have been the first time he found himself awkwardly third wheeling Terzo and one of his potential conquests.

“One drink, Terzo,” Copia muttered sternly, accepting the small goblet.

“How sensible.” the lady, who Copia still hadn’t got a proper look at drawled. The voice drew his attention and his face hardened as he recognised her cadence, and the light blue frills covering her legs hanging over the side of the chair.

“Lady Greye?”

“M’lord…” Wren muttered, leaning her head back on the other armrest, allowing him to finally see her.

Copia’s eyes widened as he looked to Terzo, silently demanding an explanation. If anyone had seen her come here it could spell trouble for her courtships and more importantly, her position on the royal council as Copia’s assistant.

“Relax, relax Copia, sit down. She has a key. For the walls. One of the old doors runs right into her wardrobe.” Terzo waves his hand dismissively, sinking back across the chaise lounge, sipping his refilled drink.

His mouth twisted into a frown, disapproving as he settled into the chair opposite Wren. Her paints had smudged, giving Copia a glimpse of the rosy flush of her cheeks from the alcohol.

“You knew about the tunnels? For how long?” Copia quirked his brow at her, trying to keep his tone light, not to convey that he thought her sneaking around like this was a dreadful idea.

“Couple of weeks after I arrived. I had seen the door at the back of my wardrobe. Terzo kindly acquired a key for me.”

Copia blinked. Other than discussing treasury matters, this was the first time she had given him an answer longer than a few words.

She shrugged, as if the whole situation was no big deal. A part of Copia wanted to shake her. The castle's tunnel web was a mystery only revealed to a select few - in particular, the Emeritus brothers and their staff. While most private rooms had a door somewhere, it was usually well hidden or had been sealed over the years. As far as Copia was aware, not even her father had a key.

It had taken Copia years to procure a key, eventually managing to get some leverage over Terzo to pressure him into giving him access.

He had always been consious of the privilege that that key gave him. It allowed him to send his rats into every depth of the castle, providing an invaluable source of information.

And here Wren was, using it to sneak around to drink with Terzo.

He let out a quiet hum, shaking his head.

"Don't be so serious Copia." Terzo grinned, rolling his eyes. "Tell me, did you have a nice night? Lots of good conversation, hm?"

Copia grimaced in return. "Of course, of course. You know how much I love when they seat me with Lord Whittle. Riviting stuff, really."

He turned his attention back to Wren, finding it hard to keep his attention away from the hazy smirk on her face. "And you, Lady Greye, were the Fulsworths adequate company for dinner?"

Wren screwed her face up, and for a split second Copia panicked, wondering if she was about to revert to her usual stoic answers.

"I was a little dissapointed, actually. Terzo had told me some great tales of Lady Fulsworths usual party tricks, perhaps I had my expectations too high..."

She swirled her goblet, finishing the dregs of her wine in one swift motion. Terzo held out a hand, flicking his fingers in a silent request for the empty cup.

Terzo chuckled as he reached across for his familar green bottle. "Hm, it's not really a birthday feast without her falling over on the ballroom floor at least twice. The whole thing has been rather a bore this year..."

Wren grimaced as she watched him fix her some absinthe. She knew deep down it was a bad idea, especially now with Copia here.

Hesitating to drink the acrid liquid, she laid her head back against the armrest.

"She seems to have taken to motherhood rather well."

Copia's limited interjections to the conversations felt suffocating to her, as if he was studying them in some weird experiment. The quirk of his brow upon hearing Terzo's response didn't help the feeling.

"Just think, young Wren. You have all that ahead of you."

Her stomach dropped, the mood of their soiree feeling soured as she was reminded of her courtship, and the inevitable outcome. Being used as the incubator for a child of some man she would no doubt have no feelings for.  

She found herself unable to withhold a sneer.

"Great." She sipped the absinthe, wincing as it burned her throat.

“Oh come on now, it won’t be that bad. Some women even find it to be fun.” Terzo chuckled, initially oblivious to the change in her demeanour. But Copia noticed.

It was like a candle being snuffed out. As if her whole body seemed to tense.

Thankfully, Terzo was still just sober enough to sense her unease, and change the subject. He gossiped to Copia about various guests while Wren listened intently. She didn’t have the same knowledge of all these people as they did, but she interjected occasionally. Particularly when it came to nobles from the north of the country.

Even though she hadn’t gone completely quiet, Copia was still dissatisfied with how stoic her contributions seemed.

During a lull in the conversation Copia racked his brains for something to say, anything that might get her talking.

“Terzo. I’ve heard lots of praise for that new alchemist of your brothers. The new paints are going down quite well.”

Copia cursed himself for it as soon as he said it, feeling embarrassed that the only contribution he could think of on the spot was about bloody face paints.

Of all the inane, boring things.

But luckily, Terzo responded in kind, and Wren appeared to perk up slightly as she listened.

“Yes, indeed. Primo can really pick them. But… I suppose when you’ve been alive as long as him you’d need to have learned a thing or two to show for it, hm. Much longer lasting, these new formulations. Even in response to certain… physical exertions.”

Terzo grinned, his raised brow, earning a soft chuckle from Copia. He looked to Wren and was surprised that for once, upon meeting her gaze, she didn’t look away, instead letting out a soft laugh as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not so keen on them myself” Wren chipped in, steering the topic away from Terzo’s ‘exertions’.

“No?”

“No. Makes my skin itch. Then it goes red, then I’m stuck covering that with more paint. So on and so forth until I’m drowning face down in a milk bath.”

Copia chuckled, wincing a little at her description, and bracing himself as he noticed the familiar smirk on Terzo’s face.

“Not a bad way to go depending on the milk you know…”

Copia brought his drink to his lips, choosing not to acknowledge Terzo’s attempt to continue lowering the tone.

“Oh yeah?’, she retorted, before taking another swig from her cup, ‘Lady Fulsworth has some going Terzo. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

The pair burst into a fit of giggles again, and Copia found himself choking slightly on the absinthe. Her eyes widened as she drew her attention back to him, causing him to flush red. The moment barely lasted a second before she was overcome with laughter once more.

"Copia," Terzo snickered, short of breath, "you're blushing, our dear lady might begin to think you have a sense of humour."

He cleared his throat once more, ignoring his jibe and smiling as he shook his head.

"Eh... forgive me. I'm... you took me off guard, Lady Greye." He couldn't tear his eye from her, the devilish smirk as she chuckled at her own joke and the reactions of her company. He wondered where this version of her was hidden away when they were alone together in the treasury offices.

Swirling what little absinthe was left in her cup, she downed it with a grimace, before shakily getting to her feet. "Well, I suppose that's as good a cue as any that I should turn in. Wouldn't want to cause you a bout of apoplexy, my Lord."

Copia wanted to disagree, to urge her to stay with them now that he finally had the opportunity to hear her talk freely, if not a bit inebriated. But her being in Terzo's chambers at this hour, in such a tipsy state was a bad idea, one that he didn’t feel comfortable condoning.

"Mm, me and Copia have important things to discuss anyway, Wren." Terzo agreed, nonchalantly.

"Ah yes, about Knight Erador, right…”

Copia raised an eyebrow. There were matters Wren wasn’t privy to, not being an official member of the council yet. No doubt Terzo had been letting important matters slip.

“Goodnight, my Lord, your Grace", she murmured with a clumsy curtsy. Copia watched as she moved towards the concealed door inside the wardrobe.

Wren felt herself stumble forwards, tripping over a pair of Terzo's boots.

"Shit!" She muttered as she steadied herself against the door. She blushed as she heard Terzo laughing on the other side of the wall. Before she could retort she startled, feeling hands on each of her arms, a firm grip steadying her, her breath catching in her chest.

Copia called back to Terzo.

"I'll walk her back. Won't be long."

Turning the key that had been left in the door, Copia guided her out into the tunnel. It was lit by only a few sconces, and Wren found herself intuitavely linking her arm with Copia's as she protested.

"You don't have to..."

Really, she could not deny that it was a good idea. Now on her feet she was in a much worse state than she had thought, and a chaperone would probably stop her from stumbling around in the dark and drawing attention to herself.

"I'd feel better for it, Lady Greye" Copia murmured. It wasn't a complete lie. He wanted to see her back to her room safely, to play the gentleman. But he also wanted to confirm exactly which door led to her quarters. There were no official maps of the tunnels, or if there had been, they had been lost to time. In spite of his years of knowledge of the tunnels, he hadn't realised that one of the doors let to Wren's rooms.

He wasn't sure how he would use that knowledge, but knowing couldn't hurt.

""Lady Greye' Christ I hate that..." she grumbled.

"Only being polite." He smiled, daring to playfully nudge her, "Adhering to the norms of our fickle society."

"You're right- You're right my Lord."

Copia wanted to pick her brains apart. Why did she hate it? What did she want him to call her? But he feared coming off too strong, rolling his eyes at her indignance.

A part of him wanted scold her, to tell her how bad an idea it was, sneaking around to meet with Terzo. It wouldn't do him any good, likely pushing her back into the shell she was just starting to come out of.

Instead he settled for commenting on her inhebriated state.

"Don't let him feed you too much of that awful green stuff." he mumbled, giving her arm a gentle squeeze as he allowed her to guide him to her door.

"It's alright, we have worse stuff back home."

A cool breeze blew through the tunnels, running along the outer walls of the castle. A shiver ran up Wren's spine, causing her to subconsiously press herself closer to Copia. That feeling of comfort washed over her again, a warmth stirring in her chest. Before she knew it, she had rested her head against his arm as they walked, breathing in deep to inhale him - the fresh scent of his cologne, the smell of leather from his gloves and eyepatch, the linger of after dinner cigars on his breath.

She felt his body tense. Flustered, she stood straighter, embarrassed at her lapse, at the overfamiliarity.  

What the hell am I doing?

Pulling the neckchain from under her dress, the one which hid her key, she cleared her throat.

"Here we go. Thanks, for accompying me, my Lord."

"Of course, Lady Gr-" Copia cut himself off as he begrudgingly let his grip on her arm loosen while she unlocked the door.

"Goodnight then," she whispered, turning to face him, her eyes lingering for a moment on his eye patch.

He couldn't stop himself from giving her arm a last gentle squeeze. "Sleep well, Wren."

She blinked, caught off guard for a second, her eyes narrowing and a smile creeping at the edge of her lips upon hearing her given name from him, rather than her title. She nodded, entering her room and leaving Copia alone in the cold tunnels.

He grinned, a sense of smugness filling him with warmth.

It had taken some time, but tonight, he felt the first glimpse of progress.

[pockymllk]

Pt 2 of Pocky’s Manhwa recs for hopeless/historical romantics!

If you liked my first recommendation list, this one will be an instant hit for you as well<3 Read on if you’d like to meet more strong female leads (maybe a dash of villains here & there) and romance and of course amazing stories.

1) A capable Maid (also called ‘a talented maid’)

The useless maid, Marie, has never been able to do anything correctly. But, after caring for a dying prisoner, she becomes a person she had always wanted to be. This is the start of the capable maid, Marie.

- I’ve never seen anyone talk ab this manhwa and it’s so criminally underrated! I’m playing favourites here but 100% I can’t recommend this one enough.

- The story itself is an extremely refreshing face in the sea of isekais and whilst the main plot right now is on a lighter side I can see the story diverting to a more mature/serious tone soon so it’s a perfect balance without being overly complicated. The plot is simple but engaging and it actually has a serious sense of direction which makes you feel rewarded when it progresses at each chapters. But I will admit that the first few chapters were a tad bit slower so it’s something you should keep in mind!

- I think part of the appeal of this manhwa for me is the FL. while I love seeing stunning FLs with blonde hair and blue eyes, seeing this allows me to create a sort of silly little attachment to her. Despite her humane flaws and all, I can say that FL is one of my favourites.

- like many other romances there is surprisingly few cliche scenes and by far my favourite thing about this manhwa is how well paced the the romance is with the FL and ML . It is very realistic (no sudden love at first sights) and is a result of a buildup over the chapters. It also has one of the healthiest relationships ive seen so far including their interactions make it so cherished because you’ve been rooting for them since the very start. This manhwa knows how to deliver the romances at the right times and develops it well too

- both FL and ML are so tooth rottingly cute I swear my heart actually fluttered at some scenes

- highly highly recommend if you want a lighter read, steady plot and a strong capable young woman with her blushy yet heartbreakingly stubborn prince

Over rating : 4.9/5.0

Bonus thoughts : I also really like the art as it’s not completely over the top but so gorgeous at certain parts (look below for what I’m talking about hehe)

2) The Villainess is a Marionette

Cayena, the Imperial Princess, was known as the most beautiful woman in the Empire. She was a woman who knew nothing but evil and luxury.However, she was destined for ruin: she would be used as a chess piece by her younger brother to secure his throne and killed by her crazy husband. She had to change things before she became that Cayena.

- I cannot recommend this enough!! It does have your typical trope of a once foolish female lead reliving her life after a 2nd chance and tbh I’m not really fond of the cliches but damn, I absolutely adore this one.

- The story itself is a perfect balance between character and plot focused (politics, romance, power struggles etc), I see further development in the plot later on but since it’s still in the first 30 chapters it has done a great job setting up the base already. Oftentimes the politics can get a little confusing but overall it still follows a very clean frame.

- I’m absolutely smitten with the female lead instead of the male lead (she is just so admirable + respectable), definitely a must read if you wish to see a mature and well written character paired with the storyline. I’ve read many stories regarding this trope but I promise there’s something special about this one that you won’t regret reading

- Also! (TW: mental health) I think this story does a really great job capturing past traumas and definitely doesn’t shy away from showing the effect it can have on the characters so please keep in mind when reading this!

Overall Rating: 4.8/5.0

Bonus thoughts: I can fangirl ages about the art again but gosh its absolutely stunning and so pleasing to the eyes which just makes this manhwa such an excellent read overall

3) A Symbiotic relationship between A rabbit and a Black Panther 

I was a rabbit shapeshifter who couldn’t even transform into a human by my coming of age ceremony. My family said that I was just a halfling and placed me in a basket… Then I was then picked up by a black panther with an awful personality. This fierce beast. Staring at my trembling face, the black panther’s eyes glistened. “How thrilling.” Mom, I think he’s crazy! To survive a fairly crazy black panther. “The wild beasts are possessive, no matter what it is.” ….Is it possible?

- oddly eccentric FL and ML. the first thing that drew me in was the story and I stayed for the characters. 

- the only thing I’d like to point out is that this manhwa doesn’t have the best plot(?) imo and is most driven on by the unique characters that draw you in instead. This might not be suitable for everyone especially if you’re looking for a well written story. 

- still, FL is so adorably cute in her own way and I love that she’s so stubborn at times. it really shows that she’s strong in her own right without any help from others and ML is so weirdly funny at times I love it

- I can’t wait to see where the story will go further on as it’s pretty new so maybe the plot will pick up it’s pace in the future! 

Overall Rating : 4.0/5.0

[hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little]

High in the Sky

Hawks x Winged! Reader

Key:

(F/c)= favorite color

A/N: Sometimes I just start little fics on the tumblr app and just write away at it when i’m bored. This happened to be one of them. The bigger fics are saved on my google docs so, which would probably be smart for me to get on my phone so I can work on the bigger fic, but oh well. Just know that this trash was not proof read at all so its probably terrible.

————————————————————-

Flying was so freeing. Not being only confined to the ground, able to soar above human limitation. Wind combs through the feathers, caressing each bard with care. Leaving nothing caressed with its attentive breeze.

Taking in every sight from miles above. Wings flapping with purpose through the cloudy blue air.

Or at least that’s how she imagined it. Enviously watching the beings above her dance in the sky. Most people payed no mind to the birds flying above, reaching places they never could. But, she did, she could only dream of flying like they did. Why? One might ask. Well, she has a pair of fluffy (f/c) wings stemming from her back. She just didn’t know how to use them. And to make matters worse she was afraid of heights.

She had watched her boyfriend fly around so much, but she could never bring herself to take off after him. How Keigo is so patient with her is something she can’t even fathom. Never forcefully pushing her to even flap her wings like others in her life. Always walking around on his feet when with her, which was something he didn’t do often before they were together. It always made her feel guilty, like she was holding Keigo back. But, any and all doubts she voiced were quickly countered as he words of encouragement and love to his angel.

It was kinda ironic. A winged angel being afraid to fly. People always comment on how she is just a decorator piece meant to complement Hawks in the spotlight. Or that he will get bored of her and her flightless appendages. The media never failed to poke at the fact that she didn’t know how to fly. Saying that she will always be afraid until she takes the leap.

And those kinds of pokes and prods lead her to where she is now. Sitting on the ledge of a cliff overlooking the vast ocean near the outskirts of the city. Fingers anxiously picking at the grass beneath them. God this was so dumb, but she could stop the nagging feeling that all those people were right. It couldn’t be to hard right? Keigo does it effortlessly all the time. And there just wings, all she has to do is flap them.

Pushing all her doubts aside she hops to her feet, puffing her chest with her newfound courage. She was an overgrown bird, she told herself. Now is the time to spread her wings and soar from the nest.

With bright (f/c) feathers separated and a pep in her step. Pep in her wings? A lighthearted giggle passed her lips with the silly word play. She was now ready for flight.

Legs bent underneath her weight as she sprung up, pulling her wings to give a wind blowing flap over the side of the cliff.

Just as she was about to maneuver her wings to do it again, two scarlet feathers hooked firmly under her arms guiding her back towards the ledge.

Shame. It radiated within her chest as well as on her cheeks upon seeing the feathers.

They anchored her onto the ground. And while she might have been still facing the ocean, she knew he was coming. She could hear him. The sound of wings beating hastily at the air. Hurrying towards her with god-speed.

Cold surges of air made her shiver as he descended to the grounds behind.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Question after question, spewed from Keigo as he approached her. She didn’t say anything though. Back still facing him, hanging her head low while folding her arms to cradle her sides in a protective manner.

A heavy sigh left Keigo. Lecturing her probably wasn’t the best idea right now. But (y/n) scared the shit out of him, she was lucky he was patrolling the outskirts of the city. Keigo doesn’t even want to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t been.

He stood behind (y/n), eyes giving her a once over for any sort of injury. Thankfully though there weren’t any. But, he did notice a couple of things. Her normally relaxed wings were now tucked tightly against her back. Looking uncomfortable flat against her back. Overall, she was tense and clearly upset. Keigo gently wrapped his arms around her waist. Laying his hands upon her which clasped her sides. All while pressing his head into the crook of her neck, lips pecking kisses over the tense muscle.

His lips were warm and smooth. Keigo took his time, delicately pressing each kiss into her skin.

“Keigo.” He hummed in acknowledgement, but showed no signs of stopping the pampering.

Playing extra attention to any place made her melt into his touch. This continued to the other side, giving it the same exact undivided love and attention.

(Y/n) leaned her back against him, spreading her fingers to let his own slip in and interlock with her.

“Are you felling okay?” He questioned in a worried tone, lips now glazing along her neck.

She gave him a slow nod.

“Can we talk now baby bird?”

She said yes, but told nothing more.

“Wanna tell me what you were doing so close to the edge, my love?”

(Y/n) lifted her head, peaking to the side to see that he was staring right at her.

She hasn’t really been her usually peppy self as of lately. So Keigo instantly thought the worst when he first spotted her hopping over the side of the cliff.

She looked at her toes as they shuffled anxiously under her.

“I wanted to fly.” The voice was so small that even she could barely hear it.

Keigo presses his lips back to her skin giving one more small kiss. Lip staying glued to her neck as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Quickly, Keigo turned her around to face him. Arms never leaving her waste as she came to look at him. That previous smile soon faded when he spotted (y/n)’s tear stained face, lips quivering and everything. Bringing his left hand up to her face, he cupped her cheek as he lowered his face, lightly kissing away all tears. 

“Why didn’t you just come to me, baby dove?”

Sniffle

“It’s dumb, It wasn’t something that I should bother you ab-”

“Shhhhhh, none of that.”

“But, I-”

Peck 

He silenced her words with his lips, then resting his forehead against hers. Bodies rocking ever so slightly as Keigo swayed them both side to side, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Never think of yourself as a nuisance, you are my baby bird. The angel who brought light to my dark life, showing me what it meant to love and be loved.”

“Angels can fly, I can’t- I do-don’t- I-”

The urge to cry again piled in her eyes and throat, making her choke on her broken words. 

“Do you want to fly?”

Vigorous nods answered his questions.

“Can I ask what brought this about?”

Letting out a forced breath, (y/n) explained everything going on through her mind, from the poke and prods on the media, to her own insecurities. All which made Keigo want to beat himself up for not noticing how much weight had been piling onto her shoulders. But, what she said next was not something he was expecting to hear.

“I want- I want to fly with you. Dance around the sky in the clouds. Or in the peaceful night time stars. I wanna be able to be with you. Experience everything that life throws at us with you.”

Though her declaration was far from over, it made his heart well with happiness as he gazed upon her eyes that sparkled with that unconditional love you only see a couple times in life.

By the end they were both in tears. But, weren’t tears of sadness, no, they were far from that.  

“Can you teach me?” The question was overflowing with hope.

With a warm smile Keigo responded, “I wouldn’t have it another way, my sweet angel.”

He had the patients of a saint. Never letting her fall, guiding her through each step. A hand squeezing her own in reassurance as she tried to even herself in the sky. Slowly his hand loosened its grip, removing its presence. It was like watching a child ditching the training wheels, scared at first, but soon learning to balance themselves, experimenting with new speeds and freedoms they never before experienced. 

Years later, Keigo and (y/n) got married. They always helped each other, whether it be at the home, in the sky, or even at his agency. Which is where they currently were, (y/n) was helping out with some paperwork while her husband trained the new interns in the medium sized mat covered arena on one of the lower levels of the agency. 

Wanting to clarify some of the details regarding the report (y/n) headed for the training grounds where Keigo was. She stopped at the doorway when she noticed that all the interns were sitting in a circle around their mentor who was standing at the edge. Now, she might not have been able to hear him, but she could tell by the exaggerated arm gestures and tone changes that he was telling them a story. The expressions on the children’s faces showed just how hooked they were by his words. But, the eyes of the interns shifted from Keigo to her, their eyes all glowing with wonder. Keigo, seeing that he lost their attention, followed their gaze to her. A bright smile formed on his lips as he motioned for her to come over.

With a roll of her eyes she strutted over until she was an arms length away from her from there Keigo, pulled her to his arms, sweeping her feet from under her as he dipped down to kiss her. 

EWWWW!

The poor interns gagged and turned away. Keigo gave a bellowed laugh as (y/n) shook her head chuckling at the childishness of not only the interns, but her husband. 

“What are you laughing at?” He questioned giving her a faked gasp of offense.

“Take a guess, dear.” 

“Mrs. Takami.” A voice called from the circle.

(Y/n) brought her attention to the intern.

“I think its inspiring how you learned to fly.”

The bold proclamation brought some of the other interns sharing their delight and amazement.

After the initial surprise and confusion ran its course, her chest bubbled with a sort motherly love towards the teens. A warm feeling that enveloped her mentally as well as physically, since anyone could see the adoration practically radiating from her face. It was an expression that always made Keigo fall ten times deeper in love with her.

“Well look at the time, you kids better go get yourselves some food, nice work to-”

“But, we literally just started.”

“Well then, kid its never good to train on an empty stomach.”

Every intern huffed a bit as they got to their feet and made their way towards the break room. Once they were gone (y/n) lightly jabbed his side, making him yelp. 

“And just what were you telling them?” She asked in a playfully accusing tone.

“Ummmmmm, that you are really pretty.” 

“Takami Keigo, I swear to All Might.”

“The tiny broccoli kid does the same.” 

“Wha-”

“Don’t even try to deny it.”

“Leave the adorable cinnamon roll alone. Midoriya is a very sweet boy.”

“Hey, i,m just saying.”

“No you’re just avoiding my question.”

“Oof, you got me there.”

“Now, back to my question-”

“The question you already have an answer to.”

Poke! 

Keigo let out another high pitched yelp as she stabbed his sensitive sides with two fingers.

Yes, it was not hard to figure out what he was telling the teens, but he knows that she is kinda embarrassed by it. (Y/n) had come a long way, both of them knew it. Sensing her uneasiness, Keigo quickly comforted her.

“Dove, everyone has a place where they started, where they feel so low that they can’t bring themselves up. Feeling hopelessly stuck or trapped. And some of the interns were asking how to dig themselves out of that damned hole. So I told them about your story, how you learned to fly. You were so determined to do it that you almost jumped over a cliff having no clue how to really take off.”

He let out a light chuckle before continuing, “And how sometimes, you just need a little help to get started, a little guidance to lift you up. I mean, once you got the basics down, you fucking bolted. God, I had a hard time keeping up.”

She smiled at him as she remembered the moment with utter fondness. (Y.n) knew he was restraining himself back then, letting her buzz all around him while he kept a much slower pace. He wanted to make her feel special, feel loved, so he held himself back for her.

“And you heard the kids. It’s ‘inspiring’”

“And you’re a pain.”

“But, i’m your pain,” He said holding up both of their hands with the rings on them.

“Hmmmm, I guess so.”

“Wanna go for a quick fly around the building? Their snack breaks last like 15 minutes and its only been about five.”

“Sure, why hell not.”

They stared at each other for a couple seconds. (Y/n) distracted him with a loving peck to the lips, before slapping his arm.

“TAG.”

“Wha-”

She bolted to an open window just small enough for her to fit through. Of course, Keigo dashed towards her, struggling to shimmy his bigger frame past the tight window. (Y/n) flew a couple yards away watching as he tried to push through. She covered her mouth in a failed attempt to muffle laughter shaking through her whole body as she watched. However, that laughter ceased as too as the window let him through, making him fall before catching the air with his giant wings. 

Once steadied, Keigo’s eyes darted to his wife’s who’s facial expression read ‘oh shit, now I've done it’.

He smirked when a squeak passed her lip as she dashed around the building with him now close on her heels. Keigo let her win for a few minutes before tackling her mid flight. Trapping her in his embrace as he nuzzled into her neck letting out a happy coo. 

It was nothing but playful. They could be free in the sky, free to do whatever they pleased. 

Bonus:  

“Do you think we will ever go one day without witnessing him pull her into a sloppy kiss?” One intern asked as he chomped on a bagel, making another teen gag in repulsion. All 5 of them sat around the lunch table in the break room.

Two other interns replied with a quick “no” in unison.

“That’s just gross.”

“Awww, come on guys its kinda sweet.” Said one of the two female interns as she overlooked the streets from the giant window.

“Honey,” said the other girl, “no.”

The five kept chatting until as a flash of red and (f/c) crossed the window. They watched as their mentor and his wife played around in the skies. The two looked like children who had playground all to themselves; happy and completely lost in their own wondrous minds. 

Though the teens might think that the PDA was a bit gross, none of them could stop the smile spreading across their faces as they watched the two outside. 

“Okay, so its a little sweet.”

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

[heli0s-writes]

Cut

Pairings: Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: You impulsively make a change. Bucky appreciates it.

Bag of Tricks One-Shots

There was always something about women’s hair that caught Bucky’s attention. 

Perhaps it was the latent memories of his sisters and ma doing their hair every night and fixing it each morning in perfect coiffed rings- something about the smell of hairspray and the curling iron, hot and sizzling, barely burnt into the ether.

Women these days probably didn’t spend as much time on their hair, Bucky thought— but well, maybe they did. The Widow changed her look every few years and The Witch spent quite a while on perfecting those waves. Regardless, he always appreciated when a gal walked by with shiny, long, locks, bouncing against her back.

He often regarded his own hair in the mirror, taking note of its length. He wondered if he should cut it again like in those old pictures, but something about the shortness made him feel insecure and too open. He liked to be covered up now—as a reminder of who he’s become.

The only time he really thought about cutting it for good was when you’d snatch it by the handfuls during a fight. It started off as a mouthy little spat where you threatened to rip out his hair for looking better than yours, then slowly transformed into actual pulling, then a few weeks later you were bold enough to use it against him.

You’d gotten him pretty good, all five fingers deep, and brought him down by slamming him against the wall. The face bruise was nothing compared to the tender welts on his scalp for the next two days.

He didn’t let himself stoop to your level, but it started becoming a signature move for you, and you were ballsy enough to try two hands. Of course, it left the rest of your body wide open and he easily kneed you the hell out of the way.

Bucky always appreciated eagerness, but sometimes you could be such a... pain.

You had pretty gorgeous hair, yourself, Bucky admitted. It was impressive: long, thick, and he couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen you fiddle with it after a shower other than wringing the hell out of it with a rough linen towel. You’d brush it loosely with your fingers and then leave it there. Somehow it dried every time into a beautiful pile of wavy locks that was envied by many female agents. You were smart enough to pull it into a tight bun before a fight, but since there was so much of it, it generally flopped out of the band anyway.

Lately it’s grown so long that it was touching your lower back and getting caught in the damndest places, like car windows and doors and the constantly shifting plates in Bucky’s metal hand. You had gotten so upset when he snagged a few strands during a routine grapple in the spaces of his knuckles; you’d stormed off the mat and slammed the door on the way out. The mental chart in Bucky’s head where he kept tally of how often you baffled him earned another strike.

Half an hour later as the last shot emptied in his pistol, he pulled his earmuffs off to find you leaning against the door, choking as he briefly wondered if he’s hallucinating. Your signature unruly mane had been completely buzzed off and left with a close crop of even dark stubble all around your crown. He couldn’t pinch it between his smallest fingers if he tried.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. I know. I got tiny little bits all over me. Let’s go wrestle. I’m so gonna kick your ass.”

“Holy shit.”

You pulled a face somewhere between disgusted and amused. 

“My buzz cut getting you randy or what, dude? Jesus.”

You turned away with a suspicious eye before walking back towards the gym. Bucky easily caught up, lost in thought about how quickly a simple haircut could change not only an appearance, but someone else’s notions.

For example, he first thought about how much he missed the very specific way your hair shimmered under the fluorescent lights of the hallway— a dull shimmer, but it still did. Or how the curve in your waves would flick against your shoulders when you’d brush them out of the way. Or how lately, the tips of your hair would sway along your lower back, threatening to brush up against your bottom.

Your long hair had given you such a strange feminine grace, making all of your movements fluid and enthralling-- beautiful and strong the way ballerinas are.

But suddenly, none of that existed. 

Bucky watched as you marched through the compound, surprised to see, for the first time, that your gait matched his own. People were swerving to the sides of the halls as you walked past, either balking at your lack of locks or your vicious stomping.

When he squared up in the training room, fists raised, he couldn’t help but notice that you had exceptionally thick eyelashes and such sleek and shapely brows. Even the tip of your nose and cheekbones seemed more prominent, and hell, you sported a smattering of barely-there freckles across the side of your left cheek. Bucky thought they looked like the scattering of constellations in a night sky.

He didn’t even see you coming until your weight was already thrown over his chest and he was knocked back onto the mat with you sitting on top of him, knees to the side of his face, right hand on his neck.

“You didn’t even try that time, man. Usually you catch me at least halfway.” You gave him a perturbed look, followed by a strange realization, “I’m riding your collarbones, Barnes.”

Bucky shifted beneath you, mouth hanging open ever so slightly as he crunched forward, the movement of his abs threatening to pitch you over until you felt his wide metal hand splayed out on your spine. The flesh hand palmed the side of your head, brushing over until it rested on the back of your skull, heel of it on your neck. You were surprised when his fingers continued to massage and were even more shocked when the rubbing motion started to feel so good that you leaned into his hand every which way.

He couldn’t help but touch your scalp, the bristles of short hair scrubbing against his palm. It felt so silly, but there was something so deeply liberating to see and feel your mane gone. He saw you in a completely different light- more feral and real.

It had previously shrouded you in his mind under a notion of femininity— one he attached to his sisters, to all women with long hair. It didn’t mean that you were weak, or lesser than him, it was just... something. And seeing you without it was something else.

It stirred him even more so that you had forgone any semblance of style- maybe a fringe, or a bob, a short pixie would have looked nice. Instead, you just... took it all away. 

A slow strike was being carved on his baffled list once more.

Bucky pulled all the way up, sliding your body down his chest to straddle his waist with your legs.

“Uh,” you intelligently posited, glancing awkwardly at the intimate position, “What is going on?”

“Why’d you shave it all off?”

“What? Dude my buzzcut is making you randy.” You struggled against his grasp on your back, trying to free your legs until he placed his warm hand on your thigh, quieting your movements.

“I’m just wonderin’.” His voice was so soft you had to lean closer to hear it.

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “Tired of it. Bored of it. Might as well. Kept getting stuck everywhere. It’s just fuckin’ hair. And honestly, it feels great. Badass.” You swatted a few stray bits that had lingered on your shoulder, turning side-to-side. Bucky watched in awe of your striking portfolio- the gentle slope of your nose, your prominent cupid’s bow, the sharp angle of your jawline from your chin... he always thought your hair was a necessary addition to your essence, but without it, you were breathtaking.

“You are obviously a fan.” You laughed sarcastically.

He could only stutter, “Y-yeah, I am.”

You reeled back in response of his admission. Bucky’s eyes kept roaming over your face and it was honestly freaking you out. He looked like he was going to kiss you.

“Christ, Barnes, what in all of hell is--”

His lips descended on yours, the air around you shifting as Bucky sucked in deep breaths, parting and then coming back for seconds, both hands tight on your neck and even harder on your upper thigh. You pulled away, eyes absurdly wide, trying to understand the situation, “Bucky?”

He stopped, cheeks flushing bashfully as if you’d caught him red-handed elbow-deep in the communal Stark Tower cookie jar. “...’m sorry...”

You shook your head, licking your lips over the remnants of his touch, trying to catch your breath.

“You’re a great kisser, Barnes, but honestly, I really want to wrestle. I think the lack of hair is going to make me fucking slippery. Hella aerodynamic, you know?”

He laughed and cuffed you on the back of the head, spine tingling as your hair sandpapered against the inside of his wrist, “You’re on.”

As he watched you rise, your hand swiftly running up the back of your own neck, curious to feel what he felt, Bucky added a new mark to a new list of things you did to him. He mused over the subject matter- hesitant about lingering on it for too long.

You were still a pain, after all.

[freakova]

Theory: Abe will NOT remove his stitches in Soulstorm

Since the Soulstorm trailer dropped, I've been thinking about it pretty much 24/7. I adored it and I really want to just talk about it and dissect everything. The stitches scene has got me thinking A LOT as I think it's one of the most interesting parts of Abe's character. So theory time. This is a long post and I am sorry for that. LONG POST. Sorry all but this game means a lot to me and I want to dive deep. Too deep. Let's go. 

So, quick introduction. Abe has stitches in his mouth. It is one of the most vital parts of his design that has been around since the first game’s concept art. The reason he has them is because he cried a lot as a baby due to what was going on around him. (QUOTE: "...The slaughtering of animals in RaptureFarms was affecting him deeply so he was crying a lot....Abe doesn't see the animals dying, he can just feel. He knows that he's in a horrible place."-Oddworld Abe's Origins Art book, which I will be referencing a lot in this) and as a worker and future slave, higher ups saw this as an issue that they didn't need. A runt. And unfortunately, runts are sometimes killed. To keep him alive, Sam (The captured Mudokon Queen/his mama) sews his mouth shut so he can’t cry and can still be sent to work. Abe however, never removes these stitches despite them being practically useless (they’re stretchy and worn; they're no more than a nuisance and something he’s mocked for by others (I.e. he is constantly called “stitch lips”). 

So let's start with the PS trailer, mainly this scene.

The narrator (one of the shamans, guessing the red one in this scene) says “You must find your full voice” and we see short/flashy clips of Abe holding a knife and dragging it over the inside of the mouth to break the stitches. My mind is blown and is 100% mush. It’s implied that he is removing them. But I don’t think he will. Not in soulstorm anyway. 

Firstly worth noting that we can presume that this particular scene takes place near the start of the game. (QUOTE: "...He never took the stitches out. That's where (Soulstorm) begins, with him being told that he needs to grow up and cut out those strings of oppression. He needs to find his voice and be a leader"-O:AO art book) 

With this in mind, look at the rest of the trailer, specifically when Abe is presumably getting his chest tattoo. 

He hasn’t removed his stitches here. He’s having to go to what looks like a shrine to get the new powers and when he collapses, you see the glow of his new tattoo. We can also presume that this part takes place after the stitches scene, as in both scenes we see Abe speaking to the shamans, he doesn't have his chest tattoo but still has his stitches. 

Now, you COULD argue that maybe Oddworld Inhabitants is tricking us and the final cutscenes will be swapped with models of Abe without stitches/tattoos in the final game. (Sometimes trailers will do that to trick the audience or show “early footage”.) I don’t think this is the case personally as these cutscenes look like they’re ready to be a movie; But I do want to point out something else.

Now, if there is one beauty with the Oddworld games is they can go from “emotional” to “clown house” in a second. Just like that when it’s needed. Oddworld is both super deep but super funny. Abe removing his stitches would be a HUGE moment. Now let's look at one of the screenshots we got alongside the trailer. 

This...looks a little silly! Like it's meant to be funny. He’s pulling a funny face as if he’s gnawing and struggling to break the material. Let's be honest, do we really think OI would make a silly “haha he’s struggling” joke over Abe removing his stitches? They’re jokers but I do not believe that they would joke about something as deep as “You are going to remove a very important part of your character”. It however makes far more sense to joke about Abe being unable to remove them and end up pulling silly faces IMO. 

Also worth noting that in that first screenshot, he is removing his left stitches. But in this shot from the trailer, it was his right stitches and in both shots, all the stitches are intact. Why would he change which stitches he cuts out first? Perhaps the joke is he can't remove them and is attempting to cut different sides at different angles?

Now I could just leave that there and be on my merry way BUT! Let me just dive just a little bit deeper. Perhaps too deep but here I am. 

It is clear that Abe has a lot of issues and it’s clear those stitches are important to him. But we’ve never really had full-on reference to them despite them being a vital part of his story. The stitches have been mentioned in interviews though. There’s of course the mention of them in the Abe’s Origins book where Lorne Lanning talks about how they are sentimental to Abe because they were given to him by his mother and they reflect why he got them. (QUOTE: “That’s the only real touch of humanity he ever had in his life, so he never takes those stitches out”-O:AO art book) Quick sidenote; You gotta bare in mind that this is the only time he would have ever seen his mother. She sewed Abe's mouth up so he could not cry. It's such a weird combination of wanting the best for a child but having to do something that is so horrible. "Cruel to be kind" as they say. Abe probably has very mixed, emotional feelings towards Sam because of it. (QUOTE: "We think his mother is cradling a baby but she's actually sewing his lips together while singing a lullaby and also crying herself".-Abe's Origins art book)

The entire reason why Abe has stitches is, in a nutshell, he's empathetic. He doesn't just feel the pain of others of his kind, but the animals from Rapture Farms too and that's what makes him so unique to the other mudokons. (QUOTE: "Abe has something special about him, which leads to why he has stitches, which leads to how empathetic he is. And in that empathy, he’s able to sort of embrace something that is part of their natural heritage and become something that the other guys aren’t necessarily encountering..." -EGX 2017: Lorne Lanning Interview). He's hurtin' and to be honest...so am I...

I want to bring up this interview as well that talks about  things in regards to Oddworld's lore...old yes but an interesting read. Lanning talks about Abe and compares the stitches to people that are blind/dead. QUOTE:  "...He’s holding on to them for reasons he doesn’t really understand. I’ve known people with hearing impairments, vision impediments, physical challenges in one form or another... ...someone says ‘You’re colour blind? We can fix that now!’ and the person says ‘You know what? I don’t want it fixed.’ I’ve witnessed that people hang on to their oddities or uniqueness even though the don’t always logically understand." To me, this is a very interesting take. Abe has this thing that makes his life hard yet he still doesn't do anything because he's ok with who he is. So why would be remove them early in this story? (We’re only in the second game afterall) 

Those stitches are important to Abe. They are something he can’t bring himself to remove because they are a precious reminder of who he is. They are a reminder for him and I just can't see them being taken out in the game where he's mostly going to learn about his people. 

"Find your full voice". 

Yes. Find it. But removing the stitches that brought you where you are now will not find your full voice.

Just as a little bonus, not really part of the theory, just thinking. Here's what I think could happen through soulstorm and maybe later down the road in regards to Abe:

In the "de-stitching" scene, I think they'll make it a serious moment when Abe is given the knife then it will turn comical where Abe has troubles taking the stitches out. Either he will give up and say he can't OR the shaman will just tell him not to (OR. haha. OR the shaman will tell Abe he isn't ready.) Also I think they'll never be mentioned again after that scene but OI? Feel free to prove me wrong.

If they ever DO come out (AKA in a future game) I imagine they'll come out much easier than what we see in the trailer. No stretching or struggling. It will be like a wobbly tooth; it will come out when it's ready.

I imagine Abe will at least keep the stitches when he meets Sam.  This is based on zero evidence I just like to think of angst lol

I have a feeling Abe is going to lose some of his Empathy throughout the series and that may be why you’re given the choice to keep everyone alive in SS. Based on a few things but I won’t digress, just a thought. 

TL; DR? That’s cool. All in all, I don’t think Abe will take those stitches out. Maybe at some point in later games but not now. He's not ready. All in all, I’m crying and can’t wait for Soulstorm.

[dragonbat2011]

Reaching Out Till We Reach the Circle’s End — Chapter 5

For the chapter index: https://dragonbat2011.tumblr.com/post/621379453957865473/reaching-out-til-we-reach-the-circles-end-toc

A/N: Some dialogue adapted from S5E14: Devil's Due. Tolkien aficionados may recall that athelas is a healing plant native to Middle Earth. Knobweed appears in Brandon Sanderson's Cosmere series.

TW: brief mentions of past abuse. Nothing graphic.

 Chapter Five

Rumple pretended to be asleep, as he watched his son get up quietly and make his way over to the hearth. He took a fresh brick of dried peat from the storage bin and set it on the embers of last night's fire, using a poker to push it about. Satisfied, Bae moved toward a covered wooden bucket carried it over to a modest-sized cauldron, removed the bucket's wooden lid, and poured its clean water into the pot. Rumple knew that Bae would have drawn two such buckets from the well in the square yesterday and would draw two more this afternoon.

Bae set the cauldron on the hearth over the fire. Next, he took several handfuls of an ivory-colored coarse-ground meal and added them to the pot. He started to move away, then glanced quickly at the bed where Rumple pretended to yet be asleep and added another two handfuls.

Breakfast started, the boy reached for his cloak, and slid his bare feet into a pair of patched leather ankle boots that waited by the wool-curtained entryway. He took a moment to lace them, stooped down, and picked up the empty bucket that rested in the corner near where they had been. Then, he pushed back the curtain and Rumple could see that dawn had broken now, as Bae slipped outside.

Rumple considered for a moment. His younger self would likely be abed for another hour or so—spinning didn't require one to arise quite this early. Still, when he did arise, he was certain to want to have a conversation that Rumple wasn't sure he was ready for.

Besides, he was loath to let Bae out of his sight now.

Rumple hesitated only a moment before pushing back his blanket, slipping on his own boots, and making his way out of the hovel. He fought down a wave of nervousness as he headed for the sheepfold, where he knew Bae would go. He only meant to observe, for now. But if his son spied him, he could always claim that he'd thought he might have left something behind in the straw last night, and was only going to look for it.

He was just pushing back the wooden gate, when he caught a snatch of conversation coming from the shelter. Bae wasn't alone.

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"You're sure it's no trouble," Moraine said, as she set down the bag of fleece, taking care that the top didn't open to spill its cargo.

Bae smiled, and then turned back to the ewe he was milking. "No, Papa has time. And," he added, "if you hadn't had oats to spare last winter, we might not have made it through." He sighed. "I don't know if we'll do better this year either."

"Your garden isn't giving enough?"

Bae hesitated. "Maybe it will by harvest time, but Papa says the soil's like us: overworked and can't get time for rest." He made a face. "At least, the mint and horseradish should come up; they can grow in anything."

Moraine nodded. "Mama says okra, too. I can let you have some seeds, if you like."

"Really?" Bae asked, smiling.

Moraine nodded again. "We can't really pay much for your papa spinning our fleece, but we can spare some seeds. Okra, mustard, I think chard too. Sparrow grass," she sounded apologetic, "remind me next winter; it's too late to plant it now." She hesitated. "I mean… if I'm still here."

"You're going away?" Bae couldn't hide his dismay.

Moraine sighed. "I hope not. But Mama and Papa think that if I can get out of this village, maybe they won't bother coming after me when I turn fifteen."

Bae didn't have to ask who 'they' were. "But where would you go?"

"We have cousins in Mare's Hollow," Moraine hedged. Then she added quickly, "And Papa thinks to wed me to one of them."

"Moraine!"

"Baelfire, I'm thirteen. At fifteen, the army will take me. U-unless I'm expecting a child. Or I've already become a mother," she added. "Aiken is twenty. And a blacksmith; the army wanted him for that more than for soldiering." She shook her head. "You know that in some villages, girls are marrying men old enough to be their fathers if it'll save them from being drafted. Seven years is… it's not so bad."

"Do you love him?"

"Baelfire, he's my cousin! Third cousin," she amended hastily. "Of course, I love him. But not like…" She broke off. "I met him once, when I was eight, at the district fair in Longbourne. He was nice, I guess. I mean, he didn't tease me or treat me like I was stupid or anything, but… well, it's not like we had much to say to each other." She sighed. "He was fifteen and making horseshoes with some of the other apprentices when we stopped by the forge. It was so noisy, I had to shout 'hello' so he could hear me over that hammering, and it was so hot, even out in the open. But he had a nice smile. And when he had time to come by Papa's stall later, he didn't talk down to me like so many other grownups did."

"Maybe…" Bae hesitated. "I mean, if it's not about love… Moraine," he took a breath, "we've been friends all our lives. Sometimes, I feel like you're the only person my age I can really talk to."

"I'm not your age, silly," Moraine smiled. "I'm three days older than you."

It was old banter and not really funny, but Bae smiled back just the same. "Look, we know each other, we get along… If you loved this Aiken guy, I'd understand, but if it's just to not have to go into the army, I…" He took another breath. "I-could-marry-you," he said quickly.

"What?"

"I might not be a blacksmith, but Papa's shown me how to spin; I can ask him to teach me more. I can sow and plant and raise sheep, and I know my way around a set of tools. And you wouldn't have to leave here. I know your parents would miss you if you did." He looked away. "And I know I would, too." He hesitated. "We're friends, Moraine. Good friends. Maybe that would be enough to start with."

Moraine flung her arms about him. "Oh, Bae," she whispered, "if it were my choice… I-I don't want to leave here either. And I'd miss you, too."

"We can talk to your papa," Bae said. "We can talk to my papa."

"I'll talk to him," Moraine said. "Usually, once he makes up his mind, it stays made up; I have to catch him in the right mood. And anyway, there's a year and a season 'til my fifteenth birthday. There's no hurry; we haven't even had a reply from Aiken, yet. If he says 'no', then Papa will be of a better mind to listen to us. And even if Aiken says 'yes,' it'll be at least a month—three or more would be likelier—before he could come for me or I could go to him. There's no reason to rush."

"Okay," Bae said. "Hey. Maybe the war will be over by the time he replies! Then for sure, you won't have to leave!"

Moraine heaved a sigh. "Wouldn't that be wonderful?" Then, in a completely different tone of voice, "It's getting late. I still need to feed the chickens."

"And I have to put milk in the porridge before it boils dry," Bae nodded. "Thanks for the goat cheese and the eggs."

"Thanks for saying your papa will spin our fleece. I'll bring okra seed next time; you plant it late spring."

"Got it. And Moraine?" He hesitated for a moment. "I-I'll see you in the square in a bit, when I drive the sheep to the common."

Moraine gave him a dazzling smile. "I hope so."

Bae watched her leave. Then he went back to his milking.

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As the sheep-hut door began to creak open, Rumpelstiltskin spared a quick glance behind him and, reassured that his younger self was nowhere in sight, hurriedly teleported outside of the fold, behind the hut. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, truly, but now that he had, he needed a moment or two to collect himself.

He'd always done his best to shield Bae from certain harsh realities. In part, of course, it had been because any discussion of the Ogre War would have certainly led to questions about his own experience. His son might be the only person in the entire village who didn't yet know that he was a coward, and he had no wish to enlighten him. But of course, there had been cowardice involved in that very decision not to converse overmuch on the topic. Cowardice, and a foolish notion that if he didn't talk about the war, then perhaps, somehow, Bae wouldn't be drafted into it. Stupid, of course. He'd known that the Duke's soldiers would come for his boy eventually, but at the very least, he'd believed he'd been able to give Bae a sheltered childhood, more or less unplagued by concerns about going to war.

He'd just learned that he'd been a bigger fool than he'd ever believed. Of course, Bae would have known what was coming. And if he hadn't, then Rumple's failure to inform him, would have scarcely been a kindness on the day that the Duke's soldiers finally came. But Bae had known all along. And even understanding that his fate was set, he was ready to spare another that fate.

Rumple wiped his linen sleeve across his eyes. He'd always thought of Moraine as 'Bae's little friend'. It hadn't occurred to him that she was, even at thirteen, of marriageable age. And so was Bae, he realized with a pang. Oh, he'd known that, but he hadn't known it.

Did they love one another? Rumple wasn't certain. But they definitely liked one another, and not all love happened at first sight. Young people in their situation could do far, far worse than marry close friends, and…

And what was he even thinking? He knew full well that nothing would come of such childish plans. Bae had never approached him regarding the subject, which meant that either Moraine had never spoken to her father, or that her father had been loath to see his daughter wed to the son of a coward. Or they'd thought that they had over a year to make their case, when they had barely three months.

But they did have three months. And perhaps, that would be enough time… If he involved himself.

A new thought struck him. Zelena was still out there and not far away. She might not realize where she was, but she'd heard Charlotte Long-scar mention the name of this village. There was every reason to believe she'd come here to try to wrest the dagger from him again. Well, he clenched his jaw, just let her try!

And then, his blood went cold. Suppose she threatened the life of his younger self if he didn't surrender it to her? Suppose she threatened Bae? She'd already killed him once.

For a moment, he fretted. Then he remembered two things: first, Zelena currently had no magic. And, when last he'd seen her, she'd had no weapon either. Maybe she wasn't in any position to threaten anybody, at least, not yet. But second, he'd informed Charlotte Long-scar that Zelena's green-stone choker was more than some decorative trinket. When a bandit chieftain obtained an item of magical value, she had two options, either to use it or to sell it. And since, from what Rumple knew of such artifacts, Charlotte wouldn't be able to use an artifact of such power—not with no magic of her own, at any rate—she would choose the second option.

Aside from Zelena herself, there was only one person in the area who was likely to be in the market for such an item. And, Rumple reflected, he just might be of a mind to make a deal. Or change one…

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

Zelena had been on the road at daybreak, bound for the 'Longbourne' place that the hostler had mentioned the night before. She didn't know what she'd find there, but she hoped that it would be a bigger place than this sleepy, run-down little village where people didn't seem to know what lay past the next town over! Fancy not even knowing the name of your kingdom!

She'd saved a hunk of bread and a pear from last night's dinner and ate both on the way, but the sun was nearing its zenith and she was perspiring heavily when she finally saw something in the distance. Unlike Pen Marmor, Longbourne was a fortified town, surrounded by a high stone wall. There was a bored-looking sentry at the gate, who waved her through with barely a cursory glance.

Instead of proceeding on her way, though, she flashed him her most winning smile. "I was just wondering whether you could direct me to your hall of records?"

The sentry blinked at her. "Pardon?"

Zelena kept smiling. "Where would one go in this town to see a map of the kingdoms?" When the sentry continued to scrutinize her, she continued, "A long time ago, I met someone from another land I'd like to find again. Only, at the time, his kingdom was at war with another and I don't know which side of the border his town would be on, now. And well, since the countries all seem to change names when they change rulers, I was hoping to see a current map." She prayed he wouldn't question her further, but she knew that the Enchanted Forest was hardly a peaceful place. Some kingdom always seemed to be at war with another. Not like Oz, with one central seat of power in the Emerald City; once she'd deposed the Wizard, the entire land had been hers to rule—apart from a few stubborn pockets of resistance she'd very nearly stamped out.

The sentry stared at her just long enough for her to begin to grow nervous. Then, he gestured for her to pass through the gate. "You might try the merchant's guild," he said finally. "They'll know who they trade with. They may have the information you seek. If not, about five leagues back the way you came is the Duke's summer palace. His Grace keeps a library, and you might petition his clerk for permission to peruse it."

Zelena wanted to shriek her frustration. She had indeed passed that palace on her way, and had she known that what she sought might be there, she could have saved herself another fifteen miles in the hot sun! Well. As long as she was here, she might as well seek out the merchant's guild so that this jaunt wouldn't be a complete waste of time. She mumbled a thank you and started forward.

Now, the sentry moved into her path. "Generally speaking, Goodwife, when one requests information, it's customary to show a mite of gratitude when one gets it."

Zelena forced herself to smile. "I'll remember that. Thanks for the advice."

"I didn't just mean to the guild record-keeper," the sentry answered, still blocking her.

If she'd had her magic, she would have turned him into a monkey by now, or some other creature equally amusing. But she didn't. "I was set upon by bandits yesterday," she said, letting a bit of her frustration show. "They took everything."

"Those gloves look well-made," the sentry replied. "Kid leather?"

"Well, they won't fit you!" Zelena exclaimed.

The sentry merely peered down his nose at her.

"Forget it!" she snapped, starting to turn back the way she'd come. The sentry seized her arm and spun her roughly back to face him.

"I gave you information in good faith," the sentry snarled. "Now, you can pay me for it, or I can have the watch here in moments. I'm sure they'll be interested in the business of a woman, clearly a stranger here, asking all sorts of questions she has no business asking, because if she did, she'd already know the answers."

"You're mad!" Zelena hissed. "If you really believed that, you wouldn't let me pass for a pair of gloves!"

"Don't matter what I believe, Goodwife," the sentry said. "What matters is what the watch will believe when I turn you over to them. They might merely ask you a few questions of their own and let you go. They might just turn you back out the gate. Or they might decide to question you in detail… and at length." The sentry drew the words out slowly and Zelena had no doubt as to what he truly meant. Her step-father might have knocked her about a few times—particularly when he'd been drinking—but interrogation via torture was something altogether different.

"All right," she snapped, struggling to pull off the gloves while he kept his grip on her arm. "All right, here! Take them!" She gave a little involuntary yelp, as he snatched the gloves with his free hand and propelled her through the gate.

When she looked back in fury, he touched his cap mockingly and smiled. "Welcome to Longbourne, Goodwife."

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

At first, Rumple wasn't certain he could find the way; it had been centuries since he'd trod it, after all, and he'd only paid three visits to the place in total. But he recognized an odd rock formation here, and a twisted lightning-charred tree there, and it wasn't long before he found himself approaching the healer's tent.

The tattooed man was standing in the open stirring a cauldron, and from the fragrance emanating from the pot, he wasn't cooking up anything more magical than breakfast.

"Fendrake," Rumple said quietly.

The healer turned slowly and his eyes grew slightly wider. "Your circumstances have changed since our last meeting," he remarked. "In more ways than one, from what I can see."

"They have," Rumple nodded. "The man I was, the man you remember, was both mortal and moral. But he was a man in a desperate situation," he continued, a chill creeping into his words. "One you took full advantage of. Now, I admire that a great deal. Full points. However… I don't like carrying debt."

Fendrake shook his head slowly. "Unfortunately, Dark One, the contract is binding. Even if I wanted to change it, I couldn't. You owe me."

"Oh, I'm not disputing that, dearie!" Rumple chuckled, as a bit of his other persona struggled to the surface. "I wasn't saying I don't pay my debts. But, perhaps, we can come to some other accommodation. You saved my boy's life when there was nowhere else to turn, and for that, I am grateful. So, perhaps… I can save yours."

"If you mean to say you'll kill me if I don't void the contract—"

"Oh, I'll do that in about a hundred years or so," Rumple cut him off. "But I wasn't talking about voiding it. Say, rather, that we might alter the terms in a way that can benefit us both. And then, I won't have to come back that other time," he added.

Fendrake's eyes narrowed. "What did you have in mind? And if you didn't come here to kill me," he added, "then what did you mean about saving my life?"

"You know, dearie," Rumple giggled, "most people would've asked the second question first. But I don't mind getting that answer out of the way. There aren't many in these parts with the resources to purchase items of great Magic. But then, there aren't many people in these parts who ask one hundred gold pieces of people who've likely never owned a single such coin. So. I've reason to believe that you're about to be offered an emerald pendant—one that can store, stoke, and harness… magic. It was stolen yesterday from an adversary of mine, and sooner or later, she's likely to come a-poking her head through your tent flap in search of it."

"Interesting," Fendrake allowed. "Though I'm not sure I understand the relevance."

"The pendant currently holds her magic. All her magic. So, if she learns you have it, well, I may be a seer now, dearie, but even if I weren't, I'd predict that she'd either try to kill you to reclaim it, or ask to apprentice herself to you in hopes that studying magic with you would reawaken her currently-blocked-off talents. Once she does that," he giggled, "then she'll kill you!"

Fendrake nodded slowly. "I won't say I don't appreciate the warning," he said. "If all is as you say, then we may have a deal. But she might never learn of my existence. And she might not be quite so ruthless as you paint her."

"Yes, well, you made a claim against my second-born child, with no idea whether I'd ever have one, so I shouldn't think that dealing in hypotheticals ought to be a problem." Rumple pointed out, still smiling. "However, before I entered into that agreement with you, you had offered another one: one hundred gold coins for a draught of Atlanthean rat snake antivenin." At a snap of his fingers, a spinning wheel, a stool, and a bucket of straw appeared beside them. "Would you accept gold wire instead?" He chuckled, sat down at the wheel, and took up a piece of straw, which he threaded onto the bobbin shaft. A moment later, a piece of gleaming gold dropped to the ground and the healer picked it up, his eyes widening. Rumple flashed him a knowing smile and reached for another piece of straw. "I can spin you as much as you like…"

Fendrake's eyebrows climbed even higher. He gestured to the long handle of the wooden ladle in the cauldron. "Stir this a moment," he said. "I'll be right back." He retreated into his tent and returned almost at once, carrying a balance scale, a rolled up piece of parchment, and two wooden bowls and spoons. He laid the parchment in one balance pan. "One hundred gold coins," Fendrake remarked, "weighs approximately seven pounds. When ten times that weight is in this balance pan," he continued, gesturing toward the empty pan, "our contract will be nullified."

"Ten times the original price?" Rumple asked, a trifle tetchily. "Still driving hard bargains, I see."

"It's been nearly a decade since the deal was struck. Delaying the payment increases the debt. But in appreciation for your warning," he set the golden straw he'd pocketed moments earlier down in the empty pan, "Let's dispense with two of those years. Fifty-six pounds."

Rumple smiled. "As I said, Master Fendrake, you do drive hard bargains. Still, over the years, I've had occasion to learn for myself that magical ingredients can run a mite pricy. Especially in a backwater region like this one. Fifty-six pounds will buy you a lot of athelas and knobweed. But let me make you a counter-offer: I'll add back one of those years, for sixty-three pounds. And the next time some poor villager comes searching for a cure for their ailing loved one, you'll give it to them at a price that they can actually afford to pay."

Fendrake smiled. He waved his hand over the contract and flame of azure blue played over it for a brief instant before it flickered out. "The deal is struck," he said.

"Then I suppose I know how I'm spending the rest of my morning," Rumple sniffed. He passed the ladle back to the healer and headed for the wheel.

"Wait a moment," Fendrake called, staying him. He ladled a fruit-and-grain porridge into one of the bowls and handed it to Rumple. "There's no charge for this," he assured him, "nor for additional bowls, should you desire them." At Rumple's raised eyebrow, he shrugged. "You'll be at this for hours. I imagine you'll want sustenance at some point."

"Just to be clear, dearie," Rumple said suspiciously, "when you offered additional bowls…?"

"I meant for you to ladle more porridge into the one you're holding, yes." He smiled. "You're right. I do drive hard bargains. But I also try to state my terms as clearly and straightforwardly as possible and I do my best not to… shall we say, use my customers' natural perceptions to deceive them."

A surprised smile flashed briefly across Rumple's face. "Then I thank you," he said, lifting a spoonful to his lips. After his second, he looked at the healer once more. "You have that emerald already," he guessed, "don't you?"

"Of course."

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When he'd been caged, first in his own castle and then later, in Zelena's storm cellar, he'd thought to himself that if he ever got free of her, it would be a long time before he'd so much as look at another spinning wheel. After days, weeks, months where—apart from the witch and her gloating and taunting—the thing had been his sole pastime, he'd grown thoroughly sick of it. And yet, here he was, volunteering to spin for hours on end, and actually enjoying himself.

Every straw spun was bringing him that much closer to his goal. Every straw spun was paying down a debt that had hung over him for decades—and had he ever considered that an option like this one might have been available, even a century from now, perhaps he wouldn't have chosen another way to clear accounts.

But then, he'd been more impulsive back then. He hadn't fully appreciated that, simply because he had the power to make others suffer, it didn't necessarily follow that he needed to indulge it. There were other ways. At times they were harder ways, but they were also better. The man he was today might have resented the healer for taking advantage of his desperation. But he'd also saved Bae's life. And spared his own, when Rumple had stolen upon him, bent on murder and theft.

Moreover, Rumple had recently returned from the Realm of the Dead. And while he hadn't met Fendrake there during his short sojourn, he had encountered other souls with unfinished business, prevented from moving on until all scores were settled and all debts paid. At the time, Rumple had believed that his time in that realm was due to unfinished business with those few individuals who had reneged on their deals with him, and whose debts were small enough or irrelevant enough that he hadn't troubled himself to hunt them down. But today, when he'd realized that the healer was the likeliest buyer for Zelena's pendant, it had occurred to him that, perhaps, his own debt hadn't been discharged after all.

And Rumpelstiltskin always pays his debts, he reminded himself, as he reached for another piece of straw. A moment later, he set another strand of bright yellow gold into the balance pan and the scale began to glow with an iridescent, pearly light.

Rumple shielded his eyes with his hand for a moment, and when he removed it, the healer stood before him once more. Fendrake plucked the contract from the other balance pan and unfurled it. "Your obligation to me has been met," he intoned formally, holding the page by the upper corners. As he started to tear it, Rumple held up a hand.

"Wait! Please. Could I have it? There's someone I need to show it to."

Fendrake shrugged. "Such is your right," he said. "And to avoid misunderstandings…" From a fold of his mantle, he brought forth a goose-feather quill and a small vial. Bracing the contract against the side of the still-warm cauldron, he wrote the words 'discharged in full' in a careful hand at the bottom beneath the signature that Rumple had inscribed so many years ago and underlined it with a flourish. Then he held the document out to him.

As Rumple accepted it, he felt as though a millstone had rolled away from him. He wasn't entirely certain that he needed to thank the healer for the privilege of spinning more than sixty pounds of gold for him, but he did so anyway. Then, still smiling, he made his way back to the hovel, pausing only long enough to purchase some roasted chickpeas and cheese pasties—his contribution to tonight's supper.

When he pushed his way through the curtained entrance to the hovel, however, his younger self rose heavily to his feet, leaning on his walking stick with a grim expression.

"I think it's time you explained yourself," he said firmly, though Rumple noticed that he was keeping his other hand jammed in his pocket where its shaking would not be so obvious. "I grant the resemblance is unmistakable and we well might be related, but my mother left before I was ever named. You claim to be my uncle, but yet, after tracking me down, you choose to bed down in my sheepfold."

"I told you—"

"Oh, I know what you told me. I just don't believe a word of it. So now," his younger self continued either not caring or not knowing that his knees were trembling, "you're going to tell me who you really are, why you've come, and," for the first time Rumple heard the slightest of quavers in his younger self's voice, "what your interest is in my boy."

[owenepierce]

Easter Event || Para

Who: Owen Pierce & Adam Sylvester

When: April 18th, 2020

Where: Practice Room in the Dominant dorm building.

Notes: Utilizes three eggs: cage, rope and a crop.

Owen

Dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a light pink hoodie, Owen stepped through the threshold of the Dominant Dormitory, the wind from outside tousling his blonde hair before the doors closed behind him. The submissive approached the front desk and asked for directions to the practice room where he was set to meet Adam Sylvester for his scene. After receiving instructions, he went on his way - doing all he could to subdue the little bubble of nerves that he had grown rather accustomed to since he had begun scening with people. Owen tried to remind himself that he had absolutely nothing to be nervous about; Adam was an experienced Dominant - he was related to the Headmistress, after all. If there was anyone at the institute that Owen could trust whole-heartedly to scene with, it'd be him. Owen arrived at the entrance of the practice room a few minutes early and dropped to his knees. He had learned that this was a customary first pose to initiate a scene, and he hoped to impress Adam and get their scene started on a good note by doing so.

Adam

Adam made a habit of arriving early to scenes, so that he could set up things as he wanted them, and yet, Owen beat him.  He supposed he wasn't surprised, since the new submissive certainly had seemed eager to impress.  Adam regarded him with a slight smile as he walked into the practice room.  "You look like you're looking forward to this," he commented, a distinct pleased note in his voice.  He walked past Owen to one of the shelves to pick out the toys that were required for the scene.  A crop, a cage, and rope, simple and versatile, easy enough to work into a scene.  "I've got a good idea of what we're going to do, but before we start, remind me again of your safeword and any limits.  Not just hard limits, I want you to tell me anything you don't want to do right now, not just things you'd never try."

Owen

"I certainly am, sir." Owen responded cheerfully when Adam entered the room. He lifted his gaze but remained on his knees. "My safeword is 'snap' and as for limits, I know I don't want anything to do with things that would permanently alter my face or body...um, not cut or blood or bodily fluids other than semen and saliva. I'm sorry if that's not a big enough list, but it's honestly all I know." Owen smiled gently and shrugged. He had only done two scenes before this and two weeks of school was hardly enough to inform him about everything he might not like, but he hoped what he knew would be enough.(edited)April 18, 2020

Adam

"No, that's perfect," Adam said as he set his supplies on a table and walked over to where Owen was kneeling.  He ruffled the boy's perfectly styled hair and smiled down at him.  "Good boy.  We won't be doing anything intense, but if you feel uncomfortable for even a moment, say something.  The safeword is important, but for this scene, even just 'wait' or 'stop' or 'hold on' will do just fine."  He smiled at him again and then picked up the cock cage from the table.  "I believe this was one of the items in your eggs.  Go ahead and strip for me."

Owen

The blonde beamed at Adam as he was praised. Even for the slightest thing being referred to as a 'good boy' never seemed to lose its punch. Every time the boy heard it, he felt a fluster of butterflies erupt in his gut. It was becoming clearer by the day that Owen had been marked appropriately and that knowledge only made him excited to learn more and continue to please. Owen watched Adam pick up a device from the table and quirked his brow inquisitively before letting out a little giggle. "Wow, I feel so silly. I was imagining like...a full-size human cage. That looks much less scary." Owen breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. "Of course, sir." With that he stood and pulled off his hoodie, revealing his impressive physique. Next came his shorts and underwear. After discarding his garments he returned to his knees, and looked on at Adam in anticipation for what was to come.

Adam

Adam chuckled and shook his head.  "I mean... did it just say 'cage?'  Because then I guess it was open to interpretation, and we could have used any kind of cage we wanted.  I assumed it meant a cock cage."  He gestured with the contraption as he watched Owen strip.  He was definitely attractive, that was for sure.  Not that Adam hadn't noticed that already, but with his clothes off, it was obvious that Owen worked out and was proud of his body.  "You look fun," he said more quietly as he moved towards Owen.  He trailed his fingers up Owen's abs, then tweaked one of his nipples to see if he reacted.  "Lean back against the table for me so I can put this on you.  It may be slightly uncomfortable, but it shouldn't be painful.  If it pinches or squeezes, say something right away."  It looked big enough, but of course you didn't want a cock cage to be too big, either, and move around.  If this one wasn't right, though, there were other sizes in the cabinet, he'd just go get a different one.  That was the perk of doing this in the practice rooms.  All the equipment they could want.

Owen

Smirking slightly at Adam's comment, a slight blush flooded Owen's cheeks. "Mmm, so do you, sir..." Owen bit his lip and allowed himself to take Adam in visually the way he was taking the blonde in. He was the pure definition of tall, dark and handsome - it was actually quite unfair. "...but I suppose now's not the appropriate time to get all flirty, huh? I'll save that for later." The submissive blew out a shaky breath at the feeling of Adam's finger's trailing against his skin, letting out a sharper gasp as the boy tweaked his nipple - his cock jerked reactively as well. At Adam's request, Owen leaned back and propped his hips out, putting his semi-hard member out for Adam to fasten the cage to it. Owen kept his eyes on Adam's as he explained what to do in the event of any overarching discomfort. "Yes, sir." the boy replied sweetly, with an equally sweet smile to match.(edited)

Adam

"Oh, you can get flirty whenever you want, pretty boy," Adam said with a laugh.  The reaction to Adam's touch to his nipple made the Dom grin broadly.  "Oh, yes, I was right.  Fun.  We're going to have to try sensory play with you at some point, if you react like this.  Tie you to a bed and just... touch you."  He punctuated the end of the phrase by leaning into Owen's space and running his hand down to Owen's cock, but not quite touching it.  He knew he needed to tone it down, though, because it wouldn't do to get Owen hard and not be able to put the cage on.  Adam crouched and very gently and deftly slid the metal ring over his cock and slipped his balls through it, then slid the cage attachment around his cock.  "How does that feel?" he asked, looking up at Owen as he held the contraption in place, before actually securing the pieces together with the little padlock that came with it.

Owen

"I'll definitely remember that you said that, sir - your ego's about to go threw the roof with me around." Owen flirted with a wink before his voice broke out in a desperately shaky groan as Adam explained how he would play with him coupled with the feather-light touch to his cock.  "Mmf... Sir." Owen panted out. "That thing's not gonna fit if you keep talking to me like that..." Clenching his jaw, Owen managed with great effort to suppress all the dirty little thoughts that Adam was putting into his head and kept his erection down enough to the cage to fit perfectly, but uncomfortably over his cock. "Oof..." Owen winced slightly at the tight fit, the chill from the metal sending an odd sensation to the sensitive skin on his genitals. "It feels....cozy, sir."

Adam

Adam laughed again and shook his head.  He definitely liked Owen.  He was a sweet boy, and eager to please, and didn't take things too seriously.  He patted Owen's hip in a soothing gesture as he looked up at the sub.  "Too snug?  We can try a different one if you thing it'll be uncomfortable to wear for any length of time."

Owen

Owen looked down at his newly-caged cock and noted that there was a little room between the head of his cock and the end of the cage. "Well, I suppose that depends on the purpose of something like this, sir." The blonde looked back up at Adam inquisitively. "If I get hard it's absolutely going to be super uncomfortable, but I've never done anything like this before. Is that what's supposed to happen?"

Adam

Adam smiled softly and nodded.  It sounded like it was okay, so he fitted the padlock into the slot as he answered.  "It is, yeah.  It's meant to prevent you from getting fully hard, and if your cock starts to try to harden, then yes, it'll definitely be uncomfortable."  He pocketed the little key and stood to look Owen in the eyes.  "That said, if it's too much, tell me immediately.  You're not obligated to enjoy the cage.  Some subs don't like chastity at all.  And some-" He slid a hand over Owen's waist and down to his caged cock, very lightly tapping it.  "-like the feeling of humiliation, of having their cock locked up, useless, unable to even orgasm, making them focus on their Dominant's pleasure instead."

Owen

Owen nodded in a show of his general understanding and gave Adam another bright smile. "Well, in that case - I'd definitely like to try and see it through. Focusing on your pleasure sounds like all kinds of fun, so if this is one way I can do that, I'm all for it, sir." The blonde arched into Adam's grasp and braced himself on the Dominant's arm, bringing his face in closer. "That said...how can I please you, sir?"

Adam

Adam smiled at the sub's clear display of desire.  "Aren't you eager.?"  He stepped back.  "On your knees for me again."  Adam sat on a nearby chair and beckoned Owen over to him.  "Crawl over here like a good boy, and show me just how much you want to worship my cock."

Owen

Owen flushed once more at Adam's observation of his own eagerness. The blonde had a reputation back home and probably at the institute already for being a bit boy-crazy. He was a flirt at heart and had a terrible time controlling himself around boys he was attracted to. Adam naturally fit the bill for someone he'd be more than boy-crazy over, nevertheless...it was still a bit embarrassing to the blonde hearing recognition of it - especially when it was said with such, devastatingly sexy confidence and coolness. Before he completely melted into a puddle, Owen dropped to his knees obediently and smiled sheepishly as he crawled to Adam. Once at the dominant's feet, the blonde's turned his gaze to the bulge in Adam's pants and wet hit lips. "Oh, sir... I want you so badly, you have no idea." Leaning forward, he grazed his nose teasingly against the dominant's crotch. "Mmf... Please, sir. May I please worship your cock? I promise to look extra pretty for you while I do."

Adam

Oh, that lovely flush on his skin, speaking of arousal and embarrassment, that was delicious.  Owen was adorable and sexy at the same time.  Not everyone could pull that off, but he did it with flying colors.  And his begging was spot on.  For someone who apparently didn't have a lot of experience, he was acing this.  Begging was a huge turn on for Adam, and it was obvious from the way the bulge at his crotch grew visibly larger.  "Such a polite boy.  Go ahead and take my cock out, pretty boy.  You can kiss it, and touch it, but you can't have it in your mouth yet."

Owen

From his place on his knees, Owen noticed Adam responding to his begging with a lot more than his words. He had to practically suppress a squeal of delight when he noticed Adam's cock throbbed under the fabric of the man's pants. Owen beamed innocently up at the other as he gave the submissive permission to do exactly what he was positively dying to do. "Thank you very much, sir." Owen quirked his brow playfully at Adam as he reached for the zipper on his pants. Leaning his face in so that his breath continued to provide sensation for Adam against his groin as Owen worked to unzip and unbutton his pants. Pulling the waistband of Adam's underwear down and under his balls, Owen's bright blue eyes widened with excitement at the sight of the other's hardening cock in front of him. Holding it in his hand, Owen leaned in and kissed the tip lightly before trailing more kisses down and back up the shaft. "Your cock is so beautiful, sir." Owen sighed out. "Please, please may I suck you?" He gave the man his best doe-eyes and made sure to hold Adam's cock right up against his face so he that he got the arousing visual of Owen's pleading, faux-innocence, hoping it would seal the deal and earn him what he so desperately craved.

Adam

Adam put a hand on Owen's head, threading his fingers through his hair, not controlling his movements at all, just because he wanted to touch the boy.  Owen's excitement was infectious, and he felt his cock twitch when the sub finally freed it.  The light touches of his lips felt like being teased, in the best way.  "Such a good boy," he murmured.  "I like hearing you beg for the chance to please me.  Go ahead, show me how good you can be.  You can suck me."

Owen

When Adam's fingers ran through his hair, Owen couldn't help but groan - it was one of his weaknesses. It was so comforting and intimate and at the same time, it made him feel especially submissive. At least, that's what he knew the feeling to be now, after a few weeks of studying. Before the institute, he just knew he enjoyed being roughed around in bed, but now that enjoyment had a name, and he was doing all he could to experience it over and over again. With that enjoyment, though - came arousal -  which was precarious in his current state. As Adam's fingers ran through his blonde strands, Owen's cock gave a start against it's metal confines. The blonde winced at the unexpected sensation but did his best to allow the discomfort to work itself out. "Thank you, sir." Owen rasped out and eagerly took the head of Adam's cock between his lips. Expertly, Owen coated Adam's cock with saliva, gave it a few pumps and brought it back out of his mouth with a 'pop' a trail of precum connected Adam's cock to Owen's wet lips. "You taste so, so good, sir. Fuck." Owen wasn't one for obscenities, but this circumstance deemed them more than necessary. Owen went back to Adam's cock now that it was properly lubricated with precum and Owen's saliva and began to suck at a much more eager pace. All pretense of teasing had been dropped.

karen04/18/2020

Despite Owen's assertion that he was new to this, he was very obviously not new to the concept of a blow job.  He knew exactly what he was doing with that gorgeous mouth of his.  Adam groaned softly as Owen's tongue slid over a particularly sensitive spot.  "Your mouth should be illegal," he breathed.  His fingers tightened in Owen's hair and he tugged a bit, not enough to move him at all, just to make him feel it for a second before Adam loosened his grip again.

Owen

Owen had Adam's cock in his hand and was playfully slapping it against his tongue when the Dominant made the comment about his talented mouth. Smirking, Owen chuckled under his breath and took Adam back into his mouth. This time - as a way to further assert Adam's point - taking his entire length down his throat without so much as a slight gag. Owen was well aware of his faults and he was even more crisply aware of his capabilities. His talent for making a man absolutely lose himself sexually was one that the blonde treasured above most of his other skills. Letting out a desperate little whine against Adam's cock when the other gave his hair a good tug, Owen popped his cock out of his mouth again and panted out for air. "Sir... I want to worship the rest of you..." He pouted up at Adam innocently. "You have too many clothes on."

Adam

Adam groaned low in his throat when Owen swallowed him down entirely.  "Fuck, boy..."  He was very good at that, clearly practiced, and clearly well aware of just how good he was.  Adam could see the confidence in his eyes, the playful way he pleasured Adam.  In another scene, Adam might have made the sub beg more for him to take off his clothes, but he was impressed with Owen, and right now, he just wanted to give the boy what he wanted.  "Then take them off for me," he said with a teasing smile.

Owen

Owen's face lit up when received permission to remove Adam's clothes. A brief concern about how his caged-cock would fare when he took of an insanely hot guy's clothes did cross his mind, but his desire trumped his logic and he sat up to begin unbuttoning Adam's shirt. Wetting his lips as each patch of skin was revealing Owen's disrobing became a bit more frantic. Finally, Adam's shirt was unbuttoned entirely, exposing a stunning expanse of musculature and anatomical perfection. Sighing out dreamily, Owen leaned in and lick a strip from the very base of Adam's cock, up his chiseled abdomen, to his chest and finally to his neck. Taking in the scent of a cologne he might've been wearing Owen sighed once more. "You're absolutely gorgeous, sir. I feel so lucky to be your good boy right now."April 19, 2020

Adam

Adam didn't often indulge in this kind of Dominance, where he did very little and the submissive did all the work, but it was fun for a change of pace.  He sat there smirking, watching Owen slowly unbutton his shirt, and moved cooperatively when Owen pulled it off of him.  God, this boy had really found that corner between adorable and sexy and built his whole home there. "You are lucky," Adam said, teasing.  "And you are a good boy.  A very good boy."  He tugged on Owen's hair again, pulling him back a bit so Adam could look him up and down.  "How's that cock of yours doing?  Is it sad about being locked up and useless?"

Owen

"Uhhnf." Owen groaned out as Adam tugged on his hair once more, sending an immediate jolt of arousal to his cock, forcing it to harden painfully against the cage it was confined to. "V-Very sad, sir." Owen whimpered out. Pouting out his bottom lip in a crude display of faux-innocence, Owen raked his hands back down Adam's body and started to use both of them to jack the Dominant's cock over his face which, positioned just below Adam's arousal was the picture of submissive desperation.

Adam

Adam grinned when Owen agreed with him in that precious whimper.  Whining and whimpering were right up there with begging to him.  "Your poor little cock, all locked away where you can't have any fun."  He hummed softly, enjoying the way Owen kept his attention on Adam's body and cock.  He was a really good boy.  "I'll make you a deal, pretty boy.  I'll let your cock out to play, but you see, a good sub like you isn't allowed to play with his own dick.  I decide if it gets played with or not.  So if I let your sad, lonely cock out to play, then I'm going to tie your hands behind your back to make sure you behave.  What do you think?  Do you want the deal?"

Owen

The blonde listened to Adam's explanation quietly, occasionally pressing his lips against the other's cock as he did so. Owen perked up when the final deal was offered and smiled warmly up at Adam. "Oh, yes sir. That sounds like a good deal to me. Besides..." Owen lapped playfully at Adam's cock, slapping it against his tongue. "...tying up my hands certainly won't keep me from giving /you/ pleasure, sir - which is my main concern, of course." Owen's blue eyes honed in on the head of Adam's cock as he spoke. "I bet I could get you to cum with just my mouth, sir - no hands needed. So, yeah - please tie me up and let me suck your beautiful cock some more..." Wetting his mouth once more, Owen took Adam's member down his throat once more, relishing in the crude, slurping noises he made as his own saliva mixed erotically with the precum that dripped from and coated the rest of Adam's cock in the process. Popping off once more, Owen giggled and slapped it against his cheek, leaving a smear of arousal on his porcelain cheek. "You're making such a mess, sir..." Owen said with a playful wink.(edited)

Adam

"That's right, that's a good boy.  My cock is more important than yours, and you're lucky I'm letting yours out at all."  He grinned at the boy, enjoying the way he seemed to be reacting positively to the mild verbal humiliation Adam was introducing him to.  He seemed delighted, and the humiliating talk seemed to only make him more submissive and eager, if such a thing was even possible.  Adam sighed in pleasure as Owen started to suck his cock again, but when the boy pulled off, Adam lightly shoved his head away, a playful gesture.  "Go get me that rope from the table, boy.  And then come and turn around so I can tie your hands behind your back."

Owen

"You got it, sir." Owen stated cutely and rose to his feet a little clumsily. He turned around and walked as swiftly as he could to the table at the opposite end of the practice room. Once there he took a brief moment to scan over all the instruments that were there; dildo's, cuffs, whips, chains - the whole nine yards. He ran his hands over the cool metal of the wrist-cuffs and sighed. It was still insane to him that he was actually here, learning how to be submissive. Without hesitating any further he reached for the rope and pivoted back towards Adam, who sat there looking as devastatingly handsome as ever. Smiling softly at the Dominant, Owen placed the bundled rope on his lap, turned around and put his hands obediently behind his back as he waited for Adam to bind his wrists.(edited)

Adam

Adam watched Owen, noting with interest the way he looked over the rest of the toys on display.  The boy looked not just curious, but wistful.  Adam would have to get him back down here and try some more of those items on him.  When Owen returned, Adam sent him a smile and took the rope from him.  "Good boy.  So very obedient."  He took the opportunity to pat and squeeze Owen's ass before he started to unravel the bundle of rope.  He wasn't planning anything fancy, so it was quick work to tie Owen's wrists together at the small of his back.  He turned the boy around with a hand on his hip, the other hand fishing the little key out of his pocket.  "Here you go," he said as he unlocked the cage and slipped it off.  "Your poor cock can come out to play."  He stroked it once, then played with the head for a moment.  "But you don't get to cum until you've served your purpose.  What are you here for, pretty boy?"

Owen

Beaming at the praise Adam showered him with, the blonde bit his lip slightly, arching his back as the Dominant took the opportunity to squeeze his ass. He considered whining and begging to be touched down there more but he thought better of it and decided that Adam's pleasure was paramount in this moment - if he was good, his own relief would come soon enough. Sighing with relief when Adam unlcoked the cage, the blonde cock immediately stood at attention while the other man toyed with it, making Owen squirm desperately on his knees. "Thank you, sir. It feel so much better." He gasped out gratefully, his lips parting slightly. "Mmf, I'm here to serve you, sir. You're my purpose. Your pleasure is my purpose. I'm here to worship you and your cock like the good, pretty boy I am." He answered readily and leaned forward, bringing his lips just centimeter's from the flushed head of Adam's cock. Looking up at Adam, he quirked a playful smile. "Do I look pretty down here with your cock over my face, sir?"

Adam

"That's right, good boy," Adam praised, very pleased with Owen's answer.  "You're here to serve my pleasure and worship my cock.  Not for your pleasure or your orgasm, if I decide to give you one."  He ran his fingers through Owen's hair again as the boy knelt in front of him, the picture of obedience.  "You look pretty wherever you are," he answered with a chuckle.  "But with my cock next to your lips, you just look like you haven't quite gotten your lips where they belong."

Owen

"Right, sir." Owen responded obediently. The blonde flushed a bright shade of pink when Adam noted that he looked pretty regardless of the setting. His bashfulness faded quickly, though - as he was reminded of his purpose for the moment. Nodding dutifully, Owen forwent all teasing and took Adam's cock back into his mouth. He was clumsier now without his hands to stabilize himself - but after a moment of sloppy attempts, making an even worse mess around his slightly swollen lips, he found a rhythm and began to suck at Adam's cock with a renewed fervor, all the while keeping his eyes innocently locked with the other man's.

HEADCANNON FOR THE REST: 

After orally servicing Adam some more, the scene moved to involve some light impact play with a crop until the dominant was pleased. Shortly after, the scene ended and Owen was administered proper aftercare.

@dominantsylvester

[spideychelleforever]

One day Flash is being a dick to Peter as usual and then he grabs his shirt just as Peter was trying to scoot away from him, and Flash has now accidentally taken off Peter’s shirt

Oh did I mention this was in gym class?

So the whole gym falls silent as everyone takes in the chiseled, godlike form Peter has been hiding

Everyone is staring. Those who aren’t interested in dudes are staring out of shock, while those folks who are into dudes are not just shocked but... thirsty

Ned immediately hops in to help, and sticks his arms out to shield Peter. “Have no fear, guy in the chair is here!” As he serves as Peter’s personal shield as they head for the locker room so Peter can grab another shirt, Ned mumbles “Okay that didn’t rhyme, but...”

And well word gets around, as does a picture and a Snap, of Peter’s abs. And suddenly Peter has gone from a casual nobody in the school to one of its sex symbols. Even Liz, now thousands of miles away, saves the shared picture to her phone and bites her lip a few times when looking at it.

Peter gets a lot more greetings from people now. Lots of “hiiiii Peter”’s, lots of requests for his number or social media links. Lots of follow requests. And while Peter likes it a little at first, because honestly who doesn’t like some attention, it gets old pretty quickly.

Peter gets asked out at least three times in the next few weeks. Each time he gently tells them he’s flattered but not wanting to date right now.

When MJ overhears someone retell that, she deflates the rest of the day. Not that he’d ever like her, but it hurt to know he wasn’t even close to considering her since he wasn’t interested in dating at all.

It does get her to chill a bit more with Peter. Knowing he’s not wanting to date anyone let’s her get some peace of mind around him since usually she’s so frazzled around him she can only deflect and heckle him. And she’s felt that way long before she ever saw his abs in the gym that day. But she guesses that at least she can spend some relaxing time with him.

And they do! She starts talking to him like he’s a normal person and not the boy she’s been completely taken with for years. She finds out his favorite foods, gives some of his nerdy stuff a try, and he eats up the poetry she writes and expresses awe at every single drawing she does. Even the silly doodles.

One night MJ is at a diner with Betty, Sally, Cindy, and a few other girls, and inevitably, the subject of Peter comes up. Most of them all express the same thing, that they’d smash if they could. MJ feels so, so small in that moment. Especially when the topic of the Valentine’s Night Ball comes up, and MJ quickly realizes Peter is about to be swamped with admirers.

So the next day, she goes to Peter.

“Dork, you have to listen. I just heard a shitload of little birdies all about to come ask you out to the Valentine’s ball.” She hurriedly whispers as they both stand at his locker. MJ felt a rush as Peter came in close to hear her, but ignored it.

“Oh, geez... thanks for the heads up, MJ!” Peter does sound grateful, but the tinge of confusion in his voice is audible. “But... why are you warning me?”

MJ looks at him, lost for words. “Well.. because I wanted to warn you!” Oh no oh no oh no

“So you don’t... want me to go to the dance with them?” Peter asks in confusion.

“I just...” shit shit shit, she thinks, “don’t want you to be swarmed by lovesick chicks, okay?”

“Uh huh,” Peter says.

They stare at each other for a moment, Peter’s eyes curious and MJ’s panicked.

Silence.

“You know, um, MJ?” Peter started.

“Yes?” MJ asks.

“I really appreciate you looking out for me and all, but you don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna go out with any of those girls to the dance.”

“Cool,” MJ says, “I mean I didn’t say you couldn’t, I mean-“

“But I do wanna know... why are you looking out for me this much regarding girls?”

“Because they-Um... they’re not good for you. Yeah. Not that I’m trying to say I know what’s best for you but hey I’m your friend and I want to look out for you.”

“How are they not good for me?” Peter asks. This causes some heat to build up in MJ - it’s her envy, her jealousy, and yes, her pettiness.

“Because they don’t like you for you!” MJ spat.

“They don’t?” Peter repeated.

“No! Peter, ever since you went shirtless you’ve had dozens and dozens of admirers come up to you! They didn’t notice you before they noticed you were chiseled and shredded and buff!” MJ flustered, starting to lose her temper. “They don’t know the sweet side of you, or the fact that your favorite breakfast is eggo waffles with lots of syrup and butter, two eggs, some fatty pieces of bacon, and a glass of milk. They don’t know that you can name a voice actor of an incidental character from Star Wars: The Clone Wars even though they only appeared in one episode. They don’t know that you say ‘thank you so much’ every time a server at a restaurant so much as blinks at you. They don’t know that you always check up on my latest poetry even though it’s probably boring as shit to the uninitiated. They don’t know that you’re this adorably sweet, awkward dork who’s smarter than me, and they certainly didn’t want you years before they saw you without a shirt on, let alone years before you suddenly gained 40 lbs of muscle overnight!”

“MJ...” Peter is looking at MJ in utter astonishment. It makes MJ’s lip quiver as she shuts her eyes, clenches her fist, and groans.

“They didn’t want you before they knew you were shredded,” MJ grumbled quietly.

“But MJ, I-“

“But I did.”

Peter stares as MJ is starting to shake in front of him, unable to open her eyes and look at him. She sniffles. “That’s why I wanted to warn you about them. Okay?”

“MJ,” Peter says, “can I... touch you?”

When MJ jerkily nods, he comes up to her and puts his hands on her shoulders, which practically melt like butter in a microwave to the touch.

“MJ, can you look at me?” Peter asks.

MJ inhales sharply before forcing her eyes to look at him. Again, that look of utter astonishment in his warm, lovely eyes is killing her.

“I wasn’t going to ask anybody to the dance... I was going to ask someone really special to the dance. I’m asking you to the dance, MJ.”

MJ’s heart stops as she stares at Peter blankly. She’d call it a joke, but Peter is so honest and sincere, she has no grounds whatsoever to call it that.

“Me?” MJ repeats.

“I want to,” Peter nods, “but I wanna leave early so we can go home, hang out, and you can finish those last stanzas you’ve been working on since last week.”

Oh, that was a low blow, MJ thinks.

“I’d like that I guess,” MJ says quietly, the “I guess” being her flimsy attempt at brushing him off as usual and being totally untrue.

They stand there smiling at each other like idiots. “So,” Peter says, “how do we go to the dance?”

Shit! MJ thinks. “Oh well-I-I’d better get a dress or something and you’d better go get a suit and a tie and - shit we’d better go, the dance is in a few days-“

“Right!” Peter yelps as the sudden panic races in, and its last minute homecoming with Liz all over again.

“So um hey,” MJ says before she runs off, “We can talk about this tonight? About... us?”

“Us,” Peter repeats, beaming. “Yeah. Let’s just go get some good clothes, then we can talk about us.”

Peter rubs the back of his head, still smiling. “Just so we’re clear I... I like you too, MJ.”

MJ feels faint.

“Me too?” She asks happily... and then she pecks Peter on the cheek because his cheek looks cute. “Bye,” MJ says with a last smile before racing off.

“Bye,” Peter says happily as he does the same.

Everything felt new for MJ as she took off. Her feet felt faster. Her limbs seemed to pump harder. And her face was already aching from smiling so much.

Tagging: my crush @you-guys--are-losers @spiderman-homecomeme @peterjonesparker @suplosers @lovely-iris-west-allen @wandrlust-stark @here-be-spideychelle @spideyxchelle @spideychelle-romanogers @acastleintheair @sodafizzyart

[junghelioseok]

relief.

↳ a celebration is in order.

   ◇ jungkook x reader    ◇ smut    ◇ 1.7k [1/1]

notes: whoever decided that periods should be a thing deserves to fall off a bridge. monthly bleeding blows. if you prefer to skip the light period-related humor, feel free to start reading below the break. ^^

also, i have such major issues writing kookie in smutty scenarios. like, he’s just a baby boy in my mind and i’m not sure how this filth even came about. i’m sorry. anyway.

It’s on a particularly lazy Saturday evening, deep blue and hazy, that you realize something wonderful. “I’m free!” you exclaim joyfully as you burst into the bedroom where your boyfriend is, drawing out the last syllable until you are short of breath. 

Jungkook is actually home for once, this weekend being one of those rare occasions where he’s both in Seoul and not at the studio with his members. Sleepy eyes crack open and he raises a brow at you from his spot on the bed where he had been dozing with his laptop beside him, the screen dark and forgotten. 

You flop down beside him unapologetically, bouncing up and down. “My period’s over, silly,” you inform him like it’s the most excellent thing in the world (which it probably is), bopping him on the nose cheerily. “Freedom at last!” 

He chuckles. “Sounds like we need to celebrate.” 

“Mm,” you hum, curling up against his side and burying your nose in the crook of his neck. One of his arms comes up to wrap around your shoulders and you sigh happily, nestling closer to the warmth of his body. “I’m just glad I can sit normally again.” 

“You know what I’m glad about?” he asks, a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. 

“Hmm?” You don’t see the wicked smirk Jungkook sends in your direction, but you certainly feel what he does next. His hand slides into the waistband of your sweatpants, finding its way to your clit. A gasp escapes you as he pinches it gently, turning into a moan as he teases your entrance with those devilish fingers. 

“I’m glad I can do this again,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your cheek. 

A breathless little laugh escapes you as he continues his ministrations. “It really must’ve been an agonizing time for you,” you joke, wriggling a little as a finger slides inside you. The sensation of being filled, combined with his thumb on your clit, sends your body into overdrive and you come undone with a gasp, collapsing back against the pillows. 

“Probably not as agonizing as it was for you,” Jungkook says as he withdraws his hand, looking very pleased with himself. 

You laugh. “Wait, are you talking about my period, or about not being able to have sex with you?” 

A grin. “Both.” 

You peck him on the cheek affectionately. “Sorry, Kookie, I like you a lot, but the last thing I want is a dick inside me when there’s blood coming out of my hoo-ha. Nothing personal.” 

“That’s fine,” he replies with an amused smile. “I’m starving. Want to order pizza?” 

“Sounds good to me. You know what we can do while we’re waiting for it to get here?” 

The wicked little grin he sends your way tells you that he knows exactly what you have in mind. 

///

Jungkook is finding it very difficult to concentrate on ordering dinner with your lips wrapped around his cock. It’s all he can do to keep his voice even as he speaks on the phone, silently cursing the technical difficulties that have rendered his favorite pizza place’s online ordering system useless. “Hi, I’d like to place an order for delivery?” 

You swirl your tongue around him gently, smirking when he hisses through his teeth. 

“Yesss, ah—c-could I get one medium sausage pizza with a side…” Jungkook trails off when he feels your mouth tighten around him, breath catching in his throat. “…side of breadsticks,” he grits out. 

Your tongue traces the vein running along the underside of his erection, tantalizingly slow. Jungkook struggles to focus on the voice on the other side of the line, barely processing what he’s being asked. 

“Sure. The address is…” He barely manages to string the numbers and street name together. Between his legs, you begin a leisurely bobbing rhythm, intent on driving him to the edge. “Yes. That’s all. Thanks, bye.” He ends the call as quickly as he can, dropping his phone and throwing his head back against the pillows as you increase your pace. Your fingers twist in the material of his pants, pushed down just enough to allow his cock to spring free. 

Just as he’s about to come undone, you suddenly pull away, regarding him with a wicked little smirk. “I’m impressed that you remembered your manners there, Jungkook,” you tease, rubbing circles into his thighs. 

He lets out a surprised huff, frustration lacing his voice. “That’s what you’re choosing to pay attention to right now?” 

You adopt a look of feigned innocence, as if your lips aren’t still slick with saliva and arousal. “Oh? Is there something more pressing that I should be attending to?” Ever so slowly, your hands inch closer to his erection, savoring the way his muscles tense underneath your fingertips. Carefully, you straddle his lap, hands coming to grip his shoulders as you grind down on him. 

Jungkook shakes his head and releases a breathless laugh, one hand resting on the small of your back as the other tilts your chin toward him, bringing you into a kiss. His languid tongue tangles with yours, and you can’t help the moan that escapes you. “Don’t you think you’re teasing me too much?” he murmurs, pulling away momentarily, his warm breath fanning your cheeks. “I already let you come once.” 

“That’s true,” you admit, trailing a hand through his hair lazily before planting a light kiss on his waiting mouth. “You’re always so good to me, Jungkookie.” 

He flashes you a little grin, the one that always reminds you of a rabbit. “So you’ll stop teasing me?” he questions, hands sliding down to your waist and toying with the hem of your shirt. 

You hum agreeably, trailing your lips along his jawline. “Mm. But you better take off your clothes before I change my mind.” 

“You first?” he requests boldly, and you grin, allowing him to tug your shirt up and off. 

“I suppose.” 

Jungkook makes quick work of your sweatpants as well, sliding them off your legs and tossing them to the ground. Before he can reach around to take off your bra, however, you stop him. 

“Later,” you say shortly, guiding his hands to his own shirt. Obediently, he pulls it off, revealing the hard, toned expanse of his chest and abs. You smooth your hands down his torso, reveling in the way his muscles twitch underneath your touch. Reaching the waistband of his jeans, still bunched up around his hips, you breathe, “Let’s get these off, too.” 

“Your wish is my command,” he murmurs, letting them slide off and onto the floor, leaving him bare underneath you. No matter how many times you see him like this, you aren’t sure you’ll ever grow used to the sight—tousled hair and flushed cheeks, his body pliant and ready. Your core aches at the sight. 

Your boyfriend seems to sense your body’s reaction to him, for his hands are on you again, unhooking your bra and peeling your damp panties away from your skin. “God, Jungkook…” 

“Yes, {Name}?” he asks, blinking innocently up at you. 

You don’t answer. Instead, you rock your hips sharply against him, pinning his cock between your swollen sex and his stomach, sliding wetly against the hard shaft in long, sensual drags. He lets out a strangled groan, fingers coming up to curl around your hips as you continue riding him, splaying your hands on his chest to maintain your balance. The pressure is beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, coiling like a spring. 

“I want to be inside you,” Jungkook rasps lowly, his heavy gaze fixed on the way you’re moving above him. He’s rolling his hips in time with you now, and with every stroke, the flared head of his length slides against your clit. You’re already sensitive from the first orgasm Jungkook gave you, and that, combined with his sinful declaration, is enough to make you weak in the knees. 

“God, yes. I want you inside me too,” you breathe, moaning as your core clenches around nothing, your body aching for release. The words have hardly left your mouth, when Jungkook is suddenly tilting you forward into his chest, his cock sliding inside and filling you to the brim. A choked moan escapes your lips at the sudden surge of fullness, and Jungkook can only groan harshly in response as you seize around him, mumbling half-coherent, fragmented praises about how good he feels. 

Your thighs are quivering now, unable to support your full weight as you grind against him. Jungkook seems to sense this, for his fingers tighten around the curve of your hips, holding you up as he begins rolling up fervently to meet you, lips parting with another low groan. 

“Kookie, kiss me,” you gasp out, fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

He does. His lips crash against yours, all tongue and teeth and fire, swallowing down your moans and cries. Every push of his hips drives you closer to the edge, the hot, full weight of him dragging inside you setting your nerve endings alight. Your body trembles—tenses—and then you’re coming, clenching in spasms around Jungkook’s cock. His hips stutter slightly at the tightness, but he is persistent, relentlessly drawing out every bit of white-hot pleasure from you. 

You can no longer hold yourself up, folding over in exhaustion as Jungkook’s pace becomes sporadic, the wet draw of your body driving him to his own sweet release. Warmth floods you, and it’s all you can do to rock against him languorously, milking him for all he’s worth. He chants your name as he comes down from his high, dark eyes opening tiredly to regard you with satisfaction. 

“Ah, we really should do that more often.” 

Laughter bubbles up in your chest as you nestle against his sweaty, spent body. “It’s been less than a week since we last had sex,” you tell him pointedly. 

“That’s too long,” he responds immediately, giving you an impish grin. 

You open your mouth, about to retort, when there’s a loud knock at the door. “Go get the pizza,” you say instead, arching your back and stretching languidly underneath Jungkook’s heavy gaze. “Round two can commence after dinner.” 

You’re pretty sure you’ve never seen Jungkook move more quickly in your entire life.

[thesweatycollectiontyrant]

110 in the Shade

I decided to make it as pleasing as possible for myself to just profile each musical in alphabetical (and numerical? hence 110 in the Shade) order, starting with a gorgeous classic, 110 in the Shade.

Background Info

This is a musical that opened just after the Golden Age. It’s kind of in that area of musicals that people don’t really know how to refer to. Others in the area are a lot of Bock and Harnick musicals, like Fiddler on the Roof and She Loves Me, also, Jerry Herman favorites, Mame and Hello, Dolly!

Writers

The show has music and lyrics by the team of Harvey Schmidt who actually died exactly a week after my 18th birthday and Tom Jones who did not die exactly a week after my 18th birthday. Schmidt and Jones wrote other works together including, The Fantasticks (one of the longest-running shows in history), and the marriage profile, I Do! I Do! starring the likes of Robert Preston and Mary Martin (with a low Db), who were quite the duo, if you’d ask me. The book was by N. Richard Nash, who actually wrote a play called The Rainmaker, that was produced a few years prior.

Da System

The way I’m going to do this is that I’m going to write while listening. I’m always going to include the cast recording I chose to listen to.

Side note: Most of the time, I’m going to choose especially with classic musicals cast recordings that I feel have the best voices. ALSO, while I do listen to the entire show, I’m gonna just talk about highlights.

Who’s Singing?

For 110 in the Shade, I decided to go with a studio recording from 1997, starring Karen Ziemba as Lizzie Curry and Ron Raines as Bill Starbuck.

Time to dig into this loaded show.

Let’s Do This

For a while, I listened to the recording with Audra McDonald (one of my favorite voices of ALL time, period) as Lizzie, but eventually, I noticed that they transposed a lot of songs for her. Which by all means is okay although a bit surprising for a soprano, but I wanted to hear the way it was intended. I also wasn’t the biggest fan of Steve Kazee’s voice as Bill Starbuck (choppy vibrato), so I searched for a recording for something that is true to the original material, but recent. Thankfully, this recording served everything I was looking for. Another thing that’s funny listening to Karen Ziemba sing this instead of Audra McDonald are these two things: When I think of Karen Ziemba, I think of her phenomenal dancing and the fact that she’s an alto. When I think of Audra, I think of her amazing acting and the fact that she’s a soprano. It’s funny to me that they had Karen Ziemba do the part. Maybe, she was a soprano back in the day. However, despite her alto-ness, she really has quite the range and went OFF in this recording. Very pleasantly surprised.

As I listen to the score, I can say that it is incredibly picturesque. The Overture is both riveting and solemn. It reminded me a lot of Rossini’s William Tell Overture with the whole Morning section mixed with some Fireball. The orchestra is phenomenal. The orchestrations are very lush; something like a mattress that eats you up, but doesn’t make you sink. It’s very full for such a Western-esque score, and it’s perfect to me. It’s a lot like Copland’s Rodeo.

During the opening number, you find out from the Greek chorus (kinda) of townspeople. There’s a drought and it’s gonna be Another Hot Day. The opening number is special because it introduces many themes that happen all the way through the show. The interesting thing is that they introduce them in a way that it doesn’t get annoying to the listener. The motif is formed in many different ways all the way through the show. Also, most of the singing in this number is unison or counterpoint between the men and the women on different themes. The unison singing (while it can be beautiful at times) really gives you that bored sense of I Don’t Care What Happens Today Get Me a Palm Tree I’m Hot.

“Lizzie’s Comin’ Home” is very fun and gives you something you don’t get to hear as much. A trio between three men ("Sincerely, Me" anybody?), Lizzie’s father, H.C. Curry, and her two brothers, Noah and Jimmy. Nice harmonies at the end, and definitely something that could be performed in a concert/cabaret setting.

A few things happen: Lizzie gets her “I Want” song, addressed to Love, so she can get her a mans. The dudes sing about poker and stuff (which is actually a fun number, and a great example of a “Blow High, Blow Low” male ensemble number).

Then the male lead is introduced. Bill Starbuck(s)(?) claims to be a rainmaker (what about a coffee maker? wow now I need caffeine). He leads all the townsfolk in a SUPER DUPER FUN ensemble number that I honestly love, simply titled “The Rain Song”. It’s so exciting and something that you can listen to to get your blood pumping. WOW Ron Raines’ voice. Ooft. Love it.

“You’re Not Foolin’ Me” is a fun duet between Lizzie and Starbuck where they are doubting each other to the point that it’s comical, sort of Beatrice and Benedick meet “Anything You Can Do”.

“Raunchy” is the ultimate definition of a hoot. I don’t need to say anything else. Just watch Audra McDonald do cartwheels at Radio City Music Hall.

“Old Maid” serves as Lizzie’s nervous breakdown that she truly might never find love. She’s just met this guy who she thinks she might like, but she’s not sure, because she’s never really had a chance before, and now he comes along and she doesn’t know what to do, so she just resorts to imagining the thought of being alone forever. This is a fantastic example of amazing songwriting, from changing meter, repeated themes, chord voicing, orchestrations, character arc, everything. This is a great example of a song to give a superstar Soprano who has some fantastic acting chops.

Act Two traditionally opens with an ensemble number *squeals in excitement* called “Everything Beautiful Happens at Night”. It gave me some “Clambake” vibes, as it was written in waltz time, and has some really beautiful and interesting harmonies that just fed my musician soul like I had some Cracker Barrel. Then there’s a fun dance routine with either tapping or softshoe that sounded like tons of sweat, or as my high school theatre teacher called it, success.

Starbuck gets a really nice solo called “Melisande” which is a sort of tale he tells Lizzie. I’ll have to listen again to get specifics yikes but y’all know.

“Simple Little Things” is a nice little (kind of redundant, but still beautiful and necessary) solo for Lizzie.

Kristin Chenoweth made a little appearance in “Little Red Hat” which is more or less of a throwaway duet with one of Lizzie’s brothers, whom she is dating.

The Finale culminates in an enormous celebration by the ensemble when the rain finally comes and the temperature drops from 110 while they’re in the shade to a melancholy 100 in the shade. RIP I guess. The number has some fun A-flats for the Tenors and Sopranos. An interesting ending to a genuinely fun show.

Audition Songs

Cool thing about future posts. Most of the shows that I post about, I have access to vocal scores for, so if you’d like PDFs of songs for auditions or anything, just let me know, and I’d be more than happy to send to you! YouTube links will be posted with the title of the song.

Regarding this show in particular, while I mentioned that this is not in the Golden Age, per se, this is still a perfect show to take to an audition that asks for a Golden Age song.

“Love, Don’t Turn Away” - Lizzie, D4-F5

The song has a charming quality. Good idea for auditioning for a Rodgers and Hammerstein show, like Cinderella. It’s for a Soprano, but can easily be sung by a Mezzo, as it doesn’t go too high.

“Raunchy” - Lizzie, G3-Ab5

This song is so so so so so funny. Coincidentally, this would also be good for a Rodgers and Hammerstein/Bock and Harnick/Lerner and Loewe audition. Maybe something along the lines of Amalia Balash or Eliza Doolittle. The song is for a soprano. The situation is that she’s explaining to her dad how she’s gonna get her mans. There are some harmonies at the end between her and her dad that could easily be cut for an audition. That’s where the high Ab happens, so if you choose to cut the section where they sing the “Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo”s, the song goes up to a G5, which is only a half-step difference.

“Old Maid” - Lizzie, B3-G5

This song is featured in the infamous The Singer’s Musical Theatre Anthology: Soprano, Volume One. Disclaimer: I’m not hating on the series of books; I’m hating on the idea that many voice teachers across the country simply choose the same songs for their students to sing. While this is in the anthology, It is more of an unpopular one. Which is good *maniacal laugh*. This is a great song to show your dramatic acting ability, ladies. It’s an awesome song to take to a Weill or Bernstein audition because of its opus nature, but also it’s great to bring to an audition for the composers and roles mentioned in the above paragraph. This is a fantastic song.

“Melisande” - Starbuck, G2-G4

This song is pretty range-y, but it’s a story-telling song. It’s a good song to have fun with. Very appropriate for a Baritone or Tenor.

“Simple Little Things” - Lizzie, B3-E5

Not much to say about it other than I think it’s really pretty. Starbuck has a weird line at the end you can cut if you use it.

To Wrap It Up

This is actually a really fantastic show. I love the plot. Lizzie really grows up over the show, and shows that even people who are a little silly can find love too. This show is a really good choice for high schools. You can cast it as big as you need by adding to the townsfolk. Not sure if they have a lot of individual lines, but it could be solved easily. The revised version, offered by Tams-Witmark only has twelve characters. Crizzazy. I know the original version, also offered by Tams-Witmark has a similar get-up, but gives the option to add more to the ensemble. If you’ve got a dynamite soprano who can act really well, this is the way to go. It’s a very accessible show, and something that could really bring a group of people together.

Get it.

[astrotranslations]

[Guide to Joining the Fandom ②] ASTRO, the Ever so Perfect ‘Sweet and Salty’ Combination

Approved as the happy virus? Approved! MJ

They each chose the pen they wanted and filled in their questionnaires, MJ chose the purple one. He says it’s because he’s thinking of AROHAs. Hearing the witty MJ, all the other ASTRO members hurriedly gave meaning to the colours of their pens which they had picked up without much thought.

The whole time, MJ cheerfully responded to the members’ jokes. The members were comfortable with him too. You could really feel ASTRO’s own atmosphere which was peaceful, fun and didn’t focus on hierarchy or strict discipline. After wrapping up the interview, he conscientiously packed his huge pouch which was stuffed with a lot of things.

Q. Today’s profile is 185cm! MJ: 185 was my dream height. They say that your dreams come true.

Q. Have you not had your meal? You wrote 'food' for what you needed. MJ: I always have to eat in order for me to gain strength! I regularly eat my meals. Cooking? I’ve never cooked for the members but I like doing it. There was once before when I made seaweed soup for my mum while looking at a recipe. She said it was really scrumptious. She deliciously ate it so I want to make it for her again but I haven’t had the chance to go back home. I’ve been thinking lately about how I want to learn cooking for real. It’ll relieve my stress and it seems like something good to learn but I don’t have time on me.

Q. What do you mean by ASTRO’s 'God'? MJ: If ASTRO didn’t have me… they would’ve been in big trouble (the atmosphere suddenly went solemn) Rocky: Won’t it be a good kind of trouble… MJ: Their days are decided because of me. I have to lift the mood up for them to be in good spirits too. Rocky: Feels like my mood’s being brought down though… (laughs)

Q. Do you want to be a building owner too? Like Rocky? MJ: I want to be rich in buildings so I can obviously be a filial son to my parents. But firstly, it’s my dream to do well and buy a lot of buildings. I have to build a landmark, a landmark (laughs).

MJ was bright throughout the interview. It was to the extent that he could confidently say his happy self is his what makes people join his fandom. He’s a charming guy with lavished with self-confidence to the point that he only wrote himself for ASTRO’s 'ranking them my way' which went by the order of perfection. MJ’s love is for AROHAs and 'robong-ie'.

Q. The ASTRO members seem to really like 'robong-ie' (Moonbin included their official nightstick in his answers too). MJ: I saw it when we were doing the opening stage for our solo concert, there were a lot of robong-ies and it sent shivers down my spine. I thought, "So we finally have a lighstick of our own too, the stars are floating," and I was so happy looking at the view. Wherever we may go, these lightsticks will be there with us. Members: If you looked at it from atop the stage, it seemed like there was a shower of stars. Cha Eunwoo: It’s our pride. Moonbin: There are a lot of other singers when we go to big events and they each had their own lighsticks to represent them. I was jealous every time and I’d look at them thinking, "That’s amazing," but we now have one to call our own. Taking the stage lifts and looking at our lighsticks, it makes me realise that we’ve finally grown too and I get caught up in my emotions.

Q. What do you think AROHAs will pick between 'baby belly' and 'built body'? MJ: Won’t baby belly win with about 7 to 3? Rocky: But it isn’t a baby belly… (laughs) It started with a baby belly but it keeps evolving. MJ: I believe they’ll like my baby belly! Moonbin: If the fans could be more honest… (laughs)

ASTRO’s guy right at the back, Moonbin

Next up was Moonbin. If you wondered, "Who in the world is that guy from ASTRO who was smiling right at the back?" then I hope you’ll read this even more carefully. Moon quickly made up the reason as to why he chose the blue pen was because it complemented the change of weather from autumn to winter and while the members jeered at him, he stood firm. Moonbin, who is receiving so much love from his noonas, was unconstrained both with his answers and handwriting.

Q. What you need today is 'energy'. Moonbin: It’s because I hope I can deal with the lethargy since I feel tired. Yoon Sanha: Hiyap! Did you get it? (Yoon Sanha made a pose as though transferring his energy)

Q. Moonbin is ASTRO’s official exercise missionary, right? MJ: I’ll attest to that. Moonbin: We were resting up at the hotel when we were preparing for our Japan concert and it was a long period so I went to the gym and ended up continuing with it till now. I preach to the other members but they don’t really listen to me (laughs). MJ: It’s like 'Sparta' when we exercise together so it’s too painful for me. Moonbin: There’s a routine and you’ll become healthier if you abide by it. JinJin hyung sometimes does it but it’s my goal to make MJ hyung do it. MJ: It’s my goal to avoid Moonbin~ Moonbin: Sanha said he’ll do it too. Yoon Sanha: I feel the need for it but… it does scare me.

I hear that Moonbin mainly focuses on body training which you can do in the practice room, the dorm and wherever else rather than just at the gym. He’s filled with so much affection and passion for exercising that you’d mistakenly think you were doing an interview with a health trainer when you listen to him talk. There’s probably the secret to Moonbin’s cool body.

There was a question regarding ASTRO’s diet meal plan but he tells me that since he usually practices a lot, he doesn’t really feel the need to go on a diet even if he does eat a lot. He says that he can sufficiently maintain himself just by not heaving a late night meal alone.

Q. Even when you think about it, ASTRO are 'people who are cool on stage'. Moonbin: I didn’t know we would be coming out with such a bright concept. There’s 'something cool' to us (MJ burst out into laughter looking at Moonbin answering my questions seriously but he soon agreed). There are people who are cool on stage. Like with BTOB and HI5HLI5HT sunbae-nims, they are usually bright and have a beagle-like image to them but they coolly fulfil their duties on stage and things like that are nice (Yoon Sanha picked 'stage charm' as what would make people join Moonbin’s fandom).

Q. The Moonbin 10 years later is someone with a 'good body' and a cool guy who performs well. Oh. Moonbin: As much as it was my parents who helped me take my first step into the entertainment industry, I want to earn a lot of money and be a filial son to them. I want to really repay whatever they have done for me. I want my body to be a little bit better. I want to grow it a little more. Just a very little bit (It’s not that he’s saying that he would make his biceps the size of his face so AROHAs, worrying is a NO!)

Q. I’m guessing that why. As expected, you wrote your ranking according to who has a good body in ASTRO. Moonbin: Honestly speaking, those up till no. 5 (Moonbin, JinJin, Rocky, Eunwoo, Sanha respectively) have abs. No. 6 has it too but… (laughs) MJ: I look at it alone when I’m taking a shower and I’m satisfied. Because it’s my reversal charm!

Q. Where do you want to go on a holiday to with the members? Moonbin: Santorini, Greece and Salar de Uyuni. MJ: Let’s not go to the desert. I don’t want to sweat... Moonbin: I want to go to both. The atmosphere in Santorini, Greece gives off a peaceful vibe with the birds chirping so I want to go there when I want to rest up and I heard that when it rains in Salar de Uyuni, the divide between the land and the sky disappears. I want to make good memories there with the people I like.

Q. Your question to AROHAs is also about MJ! Moonbin: The answers will probably be half-half (laughs). I think they’ll say that he’s handsome now and is fine the way he is (laughs).

Grow a little slower, Yoon Sanha

They would often call the youngest in the group 'the youngest on top', implying that the’s the one with he real power. Yoon Sanha, who’s steadily growing while carrying out a coup d’etat', is still silly and cute, he’s the youngest one who’s brimming with aegyo but you never know, he might soon become the one on top. Yoon Sanha, who picked a black pen and was writing his answers firmly pressing against the questionnaire, said that it seemed like there was a lot of leftover space so he took out a pen of a different colour and drew pink hearts and yellow stars. He has a cute sentiment. He attentively listens to his hyungs' answers but he also fell into his own thoughts. He’s an 18 year old you can’t figure out.

Q. You grew a lot, right? Yoon Sanha: I think I’ve presently stopped but if I had to grow any taller, just until 185. I think that’s enough.

Q. You wrote by yourself that you’re the 'cutie youngest'. There are usually a lot of instances where the youngest one is the one with the real power. Moonbin: You can tell that he sort of has the temperament of a 'youngest on top'. He’s growing stronger. Cha Eunwoo: We have to receive permission from him when we want to sleep. Moonbin: Same when we want to eat.

Q. You wrote down that ASTRO are 'super fun'. Yoon Sanha: It’s funny and entertaining whenever we’re together. Like what Moonbin hyung mentioned before, us being cool is when we grow serious on stage and focus on our work. I want us to be remembered as a one of a kind group so I wrote 'one and only'. Cool, right?

Q. What do you mean by 'actions you’d expect from the youngest member'? Yoon Sanha: Seeing as how I’m the youngest in my family and the team, I’m playful and mess around but fans look upon that side of me cutely and like it. I think that’s what makes people join my fandom (You’re still a student so what subject do you like?) Music. Music is my life.

Q. The rankings ASTRO’s cutie Yoon Sanha chose for 'cuteness’ is interesting too. Yoon Sanha: To be honest, MJ hyung is no. 3 but Bin-ie hyung has gone up a lot. Rocky hyung has no aegyo so he’s no. 6. Moonbin: (How did you rise?) Um, I use my facial expressions or I often copy what Sanha does.

Q. So is there an aegyo that you’ve prepared for the next time? Yoon Sanha: Energy? (laughs) The fans look over me cutely when I tweet that I’m setting off and do aegyo every time I’m about to sleep. I’m trying to change it up now. I’ve done it too many times. Recently, using an application that’s trendy… Cha Eunwoo: Don’t do that one. I admit the 'give it to me' one is cute. Yoon Sanha: Shall I not do that one? I wanted to but I guess I won’t because of the hyungs. Cha Eunwoo: The other one is cuter. Pikachu and 'give it to me' are cute, they are but… the one that you’re trying to push… Yoon Sanha: I better not do it (Instead, Sanha transferred to Cha Eunwoo the energy he gave Moonbin earlier on).

Q. You wrote 'Japan concert' as what left the greatest impression on you. You said that you purposely wrote it differently, right? Yoon Sanha: The hyungs all wrote our solo concert so… We sang 'The Only Flower in the World' and the fans sang along while holding their robong-ies, I was touched since it looked pretty (Sanha kept an eagle’s eye on whatever his hyungs wrote and tried to his own differently. He read through again the questionnaire he submitted in, wondering what he scribbled down and even prepared his answers)

Q. Your goal for next year is the drink CF which you mentioned at the recent showcase too. Yoon Sanha: Ah, why isn’t an offer coming in… I kept talking about it since last year but we haven’t gotten any offers. I’ll work harder! A refreshing drink is good! Moonbin: I think it’ll be nice if we later on shoot for something like a beer CF when Sanha also becomes an adult.

Q. The reason as to why you’re curious about the food AROHA likes? Yoon Sanha: They’re always asking us so I’m throwing the same question back at them (What do you like?) I like french fries! Potato. It’s really yummy. I like the melting texture when it’s hot. It’s delicious. You won’t be able to express the feeling in words when you try it. Because it’s too scrumptious. Recently I’ve been eating the almond stick snack (T/N: pepero) often.

Translations by  @99pmh Take out with full credits

[babilun]

HAPPY 2018 !!!

WE’RE COMING IN FRESH FOR 2018 !!! 

First off, I can’t mention every person I follow but I wish everybody a safe and happy holidays. Remember to always take care of yourself first, take a breather, and REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE NUMBER ONE. Nobody is more important than yourself so please please pleaseeeeeee take care of yourself first, make yourself happy first. I cannot stress this enough. I seen so many people having stress and issues, and while I’m not saying that you can’t have that, please remember to always make yourself happy first. Do things that you want to do. 

Now without further ado, TIME TO EMBARRASS MY FAVORITE PEOPLE. Oh just in case, I am also @xnmyoji but Gil is my more...popular blog so I just post everything on here AHAHAHA.  

@ibadouji / @mundocor / @desertsaffron / ( + your other dumb blogs)

tora tora tora where do I even begin with you other than I LOVE YOU A LOT???? We literally met a month ago and we talk so much??? It’s rare for me to find somebody that I can instantly click with because I’m still a bit awkward when approaching people. I’m really glad we met though because our conversations has really brighten up my day simply because we both gush about our characters and I can scream at you about these dumb games I play. So thank you for approaching me and asking me for my discord first. You are such an adorable joy to my life now. 

We also have similar aesthetics which is a big plus.

@solisnumen

renata, renata, oh renata. You are just a tiny ball of inspiration????? is the best way I can describe it. I love the way you handle and portray your characters accordingly to your best ability. Also, did I also mention that you are very adorable and it’s always so cute whenever you gush about Tamamo on my dash. We honestly need to talk some more so we can both gush about Tamamo and Seimei together and TALK ABOUT MORE YOUKAIS. I also love to create Fate Theories (as cancerous and dangerous this life is at times) with you at times so we can both die on the inside lmao.

also secret note, after observing your Tamamo for awhile, it actually gave me the final push to bring Abe no Seimei to life. 

@claychained

EEVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Fam......FAM, where do I even start? YOU BROUGHT ENKIDU FOR MY BIRTHDAY, YOU BROUGHT YOUR HEAD ON A SILVER PLATTER FOR ME. Ok, that’s a joke and it was just a coincidence that you brought your Enkidu muse to life on my birthday but I’m really glad that you brought your Enkidu muse to life because now it gave us a chance to talk more, WHICH WE STILL NEED TO DO BECAUSE I DO LIKE TO GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER?? We need to talk about GilEnki things and talk about roasting Ishtar, but I also feel like we will get along just well about other things?? Mmm, now that holidays are over and my work isn’t heretic, it’ll give us a chance to die together, I MEAN BE FRIENDS. 

@laussaintclaudius

IT’S FATE, JAIDEN. ABSOLUTELY FUCKING FATE, JUST LIKE THIS DUMBASS SERIES. We met in 2011 but we lost contact because..you know.....life and some bullshit went down within this fandom BUT IT’S OK BECAUSE WE ARE TOGETHER AGAIN!!! Sadly with holidays happening, I been rather burnt out from work and what not, but I promise that we will discuss all over the silly things together like before? I have always love your Nero from the beginning and sadly I still considered you to be my Main Nero even after all these years because quite frankly......nobody would play Pokemon HGSS with my Gilgamesh. We shall be tiny Fate Indie Rper Veterans together watching these youngins’. 

TO MY PEEPS FROM TWITTER THAT I LOVE OH SO DEARLY AND ALLOWING ME TO VENTURE BACK INTO THE INDIE WORLD. 

@oninosenshi / @drachenheld 

TETSUUUUUUUUUUUUUU, I’m so glad......somebody understands the Angra/Caren ship as much as me. I always felt like I was alone in the world in this ship but no really, thanks for the push I need to go back here in this community and being a familiar face that I needed to see. LET THE MEMES AND SALT ROLLS GO HARD. 

@brynhildrofromantia / @loyalbreed

DIANA/SHEEP, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT. Everytime you disappear somewhere, I’m always worrying but I know that you’ll be fine. You gotten really strong over the past few years and we both know that life isn’t kind but don’t let it get to you and keep on preserving towards your goal and happiness. You deserve to be so happy Diana and I know we haven’t really talked that much regarding your life and I know there isn’t much I can really do to help but I’m always praying for you to be strong and happy! So I hope that you enter 2018 safe, happy, and content. And safely drunk. 

@mizukume / @sangeroasa

argilla,  argilla,  argilla, you are such a blessing on my TL. I don’t really know what to say other than, “FAM, YOU GOT ME, AND I GOT YOU” type of deal. We’re just two girls looking for a good time and meme I guess? But I supposed it’s fine, WE CAN TALK ABOUT OUR GACHA ROLLS AND THE NEW SERVANTS, either gushing or salting. <33

People that I have met and really wish to interact with more BUT HEY I’M JUST AN AWKWARD STAR IN THE SKY AND HIDE BEHIND MY SHITPOSTS AND MEMES. 

@ardenssolis / @cursedjustice / @obdurcte / @aljnanna / @irigalis / @indcmita / @liagaa / @wariixa / @daemoniac / @mxssias / @mooncellqueen / @aeronotch / @aecorus / @arthxrian / @levinspark / @solisregalia / @talentlessmagus / @noircisaint / @crimsonsovereign / @deviilscry / @falsaint / + ALL OF THE PEOPLE I FOLLOW BUT I HAVEN’T REALLY TALKED TO YET???

But yeah.......YEAH. IT’S 2018, A NEW YEAR, A NEW BEGINNING. 

TIME FOR MORE FRESH MEMES.

But to end this in a more serious manner, I am truly grateful to be back in the Fate community again. If you read my Christmas little note, I had a bit of awkward issues that isn’t really much but I was young back then. 

I really love Fate as a series despite its up and down and me screaming at Nasu with every fiber of my being and wishing for my never to come Tsukihime Remake HD Remaster, but it’s ok because he has brought me some of my favorite characters to life and expanded my creative mindset as well as allowing me to meet so many of my good friends that I love dearly and wish all of the happiness in the world to them because god I know everybody needs happiness, myself included of course, but I’m feeling pretty content with everything. 

So thank you all for having me here. Thank you all for allowing my characters, especially Gilgamesh and Abe no Seimei to run wild and do whatever the fuck they want. Just thank you for being all positive and bright on my dashboard. I don’t talk about my private life that much nor do I mention that I’m relatively stress because of work and school, so just a huge thank you for everybody enjoying themselves with their characters and interactions  with everybody. 

So just thank you all very much and I hope 2018 will treat us all kindly!

[paperficwriter]

Recovery: Part 2

Click here to read Part 1!

Warning: contains (light) spoilers for BNHA Chapter 146. Cut for length, not for content.

---

It’s a familiar brand of yelling.

“Get the fuck out of my way! I’ll fucking kill you!”

The kind of yelling that belongs to only one person.

“Listen, kid, I know you’re raw about all this, but --”

“You don’t fucking know me! I’ll blow your shitty face off if you don’t fucking move!”

And it’s those tell-tale crackles of sparks that make Kirishima sit up even in spite of his injuries, trying to swallow down how the small exertion turns his stomach. The room is spinning around blond-haired blobs of two different sizes. “Bakugou…”

“Ey!” Fatgum is the other figure, it seems, left behind as Bakugou bodily shoves past. The pro hero looks different, but Kirishima recognizes his voice. Hands are on his shoulders, firmly but gently pushing him back into the pillow under his head. Where is he? Back at school? What happened to…?

Kirishima squeezes his eyes shut under another uneasy roll of his innards. Please, whatever gods are listening, don’t let him get sick. Not in front of Bakugou.

“You’re supposed to be resting, you idiot.” Why does Bakugou’s voice sound strained?

“You’re the idiot who wanted to see me, idiot,” Kirishima replies, slurring. What a lame comeback. When Fatgum approaches the bed, Kirishima grabs Bakugou’s sleeve. A hoodie. Kirishima’s red hoodie. Without even meaning to, he hardens, like he’ll be able to hold on tighter if he’s solid. It hurts. “Please let him stay,” he half-sobs. Fuck, it’s embarrassing. “I won’t get up, I swear.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Bakugou says it to them both, sinking down into the chair at his bedside and slouching, feet planted on the floor.

Fatgum grinds his teeth for a second. It’s weird, seeing him so much...smaller. His clothes are practically hanging off him, and at his collar Kirishima can see what looks like stretch marks. “A’right, a’right. Geez. If I get back here in a bit and ya ain’t sleepin,’ though, he’s out. Deal?”

“Like hell I’d --”

“Deal.” Kirishima grabs Bakugou’s hand, like it might keep him from saying anything further. He’s surprised that it does, and Fatgum leaves, closing the door behind him. Kirishima’s flesh returns to its normal form, and he stares at Bakugou’s face. “Don’t be mad.”

“Why the fuck do you think I’m mad?”

Kirishima laughs, finally relaxing now that he knows that Bakugou is there, that he’s not getting kicked out. For the time being anyway. “Gee, I wonder.”

“Shut up.” Bakugou runs his fingers up and down his arm, over the wrapping. Awake, Kirishima realizes that he’s bandaged almost head to foot. He wonders how bad it is, but doesn’t want to ask. Not right now. “I’m not mad. At you.”

“What a relief.” Kirishima chuckles again, and then coughs. He has to swallow down a sensation like bile is rising, and he glances at the table beside him. “Can you --”

Bakugou is already grabbing the pitcher of water and pouring some of it into a plastic cup. Kirishima reaches out for it, but instead of letting it go, Bakugou keeps his hand on it, on his, as he takes a sip.

“Thanks, man.”

Bakugou puts the cup back down and scoots closer. His face is still set into a scowl, somehow even more severe than usual. “These sheets suck and that pillow is the most pitiful damn thing I’ve ever seen. Do I need to kill someone to make them take better fucking care of you or what?”

“No. They’re fine. Really.” Kirishima smiles weakly. Even his head is covered in gauze around his forehead. “Relax.”

“You relax. You’re the one who’s all…” Bakugou presses his lips together with so much force that his face, red and flushed, is white around his mouth. “This wouldn’t have fucking happened if I was there.”

“Katsuki.”

“I would have murdered that fucker for even looking at you --”

“Katsuki, don’t. Please.” He isn’t sure why he does it but Kirishima lifts his hand to grab him around the back of the neck, yanking him down until Bakugou’s face is buried in the side of his chest. Every breath is hard, the spot getting warmer by the second, each puff of angry air bleeding into the cotton. He kneads at the tight muscles. “I need you here.”

Bakugou knows what he means, but he’s not happy about it. That would have been too much to ask. When he finally raises his face to regard him, his crimson eyes are shining faintly, and Kirishima pokes him in the wrinkle between his brows. It’s a silly thing that he’s learned over time makes Bakugou stop glowering for about three seconds, which is especially effective after he gets to talking about Midoriya, and this time is no different. “I fucking hate you so much.”

“I know. Here. Give me your hand.”

Bakugou does, and he puts it on his stomach, right where his abs are aching. After even a few seconds, it already feels like a warm water bottle. Comforting.

“That’s it,” he sighs. “Now just stay like that for about five hours or so.”

That finally gets a little smile out of Bakugou, but he doesn’t move. “I have a half a mind to do it just to spite you.”

“Oh no,” Kirishima murmurs with mock horror, his eyes drifting closed as he strokes Bakugou’s knuckles. “Anything but that.”

He’s about to drift off when Bakugou speaks again, quiet and serious. “I know even after this I’m not going to get anything out of you about your internship. And that still pisses me off, but...I’m getting my fucking license when they have the next exam. And after that, I’m not going to let you run off without me again. Hear me? I’m going to be there, Eijirou.”

Kirishima’s chest feels too small for his heart, and he smiles with all his teeth when Bakugou leans over to kiss his forehead, right at the top of his nose. “I’ll be waiting.”

[fiercyy]

Can stand on its own, but is kind of a continuation.

Stop Time, I Want To Get Off

Sasuke returns home and strikes up a friends-with-benefits arrangement with Sakura.

(i)

Part deux

Funny how it never occurred to him that home would move on without him.

He left when he was thirteen and was somehow able to accept it back then. When he saw Naruto, Sakura and Kakashi again two years later, he wasn’t surprised. He’d anticipated those changes; yearned for them, even. In Orochimaru’s clutches, during the brief moments between bone-aching exhaustion and fitful sleep, he would think of them and wonder. He’d speculate on what they had become in his absence.

Nothing could have prepared him for the reality, but he was prepared for a change.

Sasuke left again at seventeen. He was gone for two years.

When he left, Konoha was a husk. Smoldering embers on a familiar horizon.

Now it is the beginnings of a metropolis. The traditional, classic façades have mostly been torn down, but some are preserved with modern innards. The streets are paved differently, more even. The walls are higher and stronger.

The people are different too, less afraid. The tragedy of war is far enough in the past to be processed. Heroes walk among the old cobblestones and the new blacktops with their heads held high and nods for their neighbors, whose names they know.

Kakashi is much the same as he has always been. He’s better at his job now, comfortable with his responsibility. Grief was a cloak he wore well for his whole life. Sasuke’s former teacher looks healthier with the Hokage’s robes draped on his shoulders.

Naruto is married and isn’t that its own special brand of insane? He’s quieter, a little more thoughtful. Still his same sunny self, but tempered with the security and surety of attaining the love and admiration he’s always wanted.

Sakura… Well, isn’t it always Sakura who changes the most? She’s just as sweet, just as funny. The letters they exchanged while he was away made him more aware than ever of the life teeming beneath the surface of her smiles. She confided her frustrations, silly jokes that her friends had groaned at, the goings on of their friends. But she hardly talked about the big things. If she had leftover pizza for breakfast, he would hear about it-

But he didn’t learn about taking over for Tsunade or the pediatric mental health clinic or her ails and ills from her.

The day he returns, he doesn’t go to Hokage tower right away. For reasons that are clear only to him, his feet carry him to Sakura’s apartment. He finds the door locked, but remembers the key. She had given it to him shortly after he was freed from prison. She promised that it was his to use whenever he needed; that her home was his.

Inside, everything is covered in a thin film of dust. Everything is the same, except for some new pictures on the walls and different knickknacks on the shelves.

His heart beats faster and breath comes short.

It feels wrong to stand in her living room, with the curtains drawn- with the dwelling empty of its occupants. Where can she be?

He licks his suddenly dry lips and gulps for air. It never occurred to him that he would not find her here.

Later he’ll learn that she has taken a sabbatical from ANBU (when had she joined?!) to take a diplomatic mission to Suna, where she is beloved by the Sand Siblings and the people alike. He’ll learn that she is doing very well, negotiating deals, trades and treaties as if she were the Hokage herself. He’ll learn that she’s due home any day now.

He’ll know in his heart that there’s no way she could have known he’d be back today. He’ll feel guilty for being upset that she wasn’t here waiting for him, that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

But for now, he panics. He thinks the worst. It’s the way of his world.

. .

He paces.

Sakura is a few days late. Kakashi assures him this is a common occurrence. Sasuke blames Kakashi wholeheartedly for the legacy habit.

Sakura is a few days late. Sasuke has so many things he needs to say to her and she is late.

So, he paces.

“They told me I’d find you here, but I didn’t want to get my hope up.”

Sasuke startles and looks up. For the first time in two years he lays his own eyes on Sakura. She’s standing in the middle of her entryway, still in her mission clothes. He hair is pulled up in a ponytail at the crown of her head, bangs pushed to the side to reveal her seal. She drops her bag at her feet and rests her right fist on her cocked hip. “Say it,” she tells him. “You know you want to.”

“Welcome back.” And he almost wants to smile.

But then, she’s grinning wide and holding out her arms, “Come here, bring it in.” he complies and can no longer find it within himself to hold back the smile, not while he’s holding her and her arms are thrown around his shoulders.

It’s a friendly hug, very platonic. Unbidden, all the feelings he’s spent his solitude processing simmer to the surface. Just as he reaches his boiling point and opens his mouth to say what he’s been psyching himself up to say-

She pulls away.

. .

Staying with Sakura means living in her space. He’s become accustomed to her clutter, her scent and her singing at the top of her lungs when she forgets he’s there. It means he overhears more than he’d have preferred.

She forgets he’s home a lot, he supposes he should be pleased that she’s so comfortable but…

She’s clattering around in the kitchen, Ino is on speakerphone so she can keep her hands free. The shrill woman prods her about an old fling in Suna, and whether or Sakura she saw her while she was there.

“I mean, we bumped into each other once or twice, but it was very civil. I was very clear when we started.”

“Trying not to break any hearts?” Ino teases.

“I don’t have time to acquire any. I barely have time to see you, or Naruto, or anything or anyone outside the hospital. I don’t need to waste my time. Right now, I just want-“

“You’re thirsty.”

“Shut up.”

“You need someone to quench your lusty lusty urges!”

“INO!”

“You wanna hit it ‘n quit it.”

“Control yourself.”

“I’m just saying-“

“Goodbye Ino.” The bleep of her hanging up is soon succeeded by a more frustrated banging of pots and aggressive grumblings. “I am not hard up. I’m not. I’m not!”

. .

This doesn’t apply to him. This has no impact on his life. He does not care.

Oh hey, except he does.

Because he’s spent two years missing her, wanting her. He always thought he’d come back, acclimate awhile and they’d pick up where they left off: on the cusp of something more. She had always been so patient, steady in her love and regard.

She still loves him, he knows she does. But he wonders if he waited too long, if the passion she felt for him had cooled and tempered into mere friendship.

. .

This is not friendship.

This is something else.

Her hands are hot on his abs. One slides up his sternum and pushes him down onto the bed, while the other drags blunt nails lower, into the trail of dark hair leading down down down. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, her smile is wet from his kiss.

He’s frozen on the bed, unwilling and unable to interrupt her plans.

She leans down, aiming for his neck, but he just wants to kiss her again. He rears up and captures her lips, lone right hand grasping at the back of her neck, pulling her up and forward. She tastes like a laugh and feels unattainable, even as her whole body is bare to his eyes.

With another tug, she falls from her knees, to her stomach. They are chest to chest, pressed up against each other in an embrace so tangled that he feels victory in her inextricable place in his embrace.

When they’re like this, he can almost believe it’s real. More than it is. He can pretend that she’ll sleep here tonight, that in the morning he can kiss her awake. He can fabricate a shared life for them and treat it as a someday instead of a probably never.

“Thanks, I really needed that.”

Out of breath and laying beside her, staring at the ceiling, Sasuke wants to scream. STOP THANKING ME, YOU ANNOYING-

But then Sakura turns her head ever so slightly to look at him and he’s caught up in her again. How had he never noticed how beautiful she is?

Then she’s sitting up and not even a little bit shy in her nakedness. Sakura scoots off the bed to look around for her clothes and laughs when she spots her shorts on the ceiling fan. She jumps up on the bed and strains to reach it. Her fingers barely grasp one leg and as she yanks it down, he does the same to her. She falls into his lap and beams through messy bangs. Sasuke tilts his head up, like he’s greeting the morning sun. She kisses his cheeks and nose. He closes his eyes and lets himself pretend.

“Okay, I’ve gotta go,” Sakura sighs and pulls on her shirt. She tries to get up, but he holds fast. She beats a gentle fist against his chest and giggles. “Seriously, I’m tired. I’ve got an early shift.”

“Stay here,” he offers.

An unreadable expression stoles over Sakura’s face before it’s quickly replaced by a patronizing look. “No thanks. Maybe I’ll see you next week?”

“You’re in Suna next week.”

“Oh,” she frowns thoughtfully, “Maybe the week after that then. Bye!”

Maybe he’s waiting, maybe he’s not. Is it still waiting if what he’s waiting for may never come?

next

[bastardnev]

Evil Plans

at last....... this series is finished............ god i love this ship so fucking mu c h

tagging @champnatalya and @gulakattack!!!

(link to ao3)

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: World Wrestling Entertainment, Professional Wrestling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mustafa Ali/Pac | Adrian Neville Characters: Mustafa Ali, Pac | Adrian Neville Additional Tags: Sharing a Room, and by extension, Sharing a Bed, Love Confessions, nev worries a lot, mustafa is a cheeky bastard, But still very cute Series: Part 4 of The King and the Prince Summary: Thanks to what he's convinced is an elaborate scheme set up by the Prince, Neville lands himself in a situation where he has no choice but to come clean.

Whenever Neville was pressed up against Mustafa during one of their matches, he felt fine. He was doing his job, after all -- he was being paid to ground his opponents and make them submit to him. He didn't have time to dwell on silly things like his feelings. He had a match to win, a paycheck to collect, and a reputation to uphold.

Now that he's pressed against him outside of the ring, however, he feels much, much different.

Neville was convinced that the man responsible for the situation he's currently in, fucking Gallagher , knew all too well what he was doing. He knew that Neville had complicated feelings regarding Mustafa, which is why he suggested that himself, Neville, Mustafa, and Cedric all carpool to the next town together, with Neville and Mustafa oh so conveniently sitting in the tightly packed back seat together. Yes, I'm sure he only wanted to do this because he wanted to 'be more green'. Neville huffed to himself. He's fucking with me all because he can't stand that he lost that stupid drinking contest... Sore loser.

The ride was mostly silent, all of Jack's attempts to start a conversation quickly fizzling out whenever Neville would make an off color comment in response. Neville was in no mood to talk. He was too busy trying to distract himself by thinking of literally anything else but Mustafa's knee brushing up against his own. Neville would nearly jump out of his skin every time they made contact, glaring in his direction whenever Mustafa would look at him quizzically. And then there would be times when Mustafa's hand would 'accidentally' touch his thigh -- or, at least, Neville didn't think it was an accident. There was no way he didn't know what he was doing. Mustafa kept his phone resting on his own thigh for most of the ride and would just so happen to accidentally graze his fingers along the fabric of Neville's pants whenever he reached for it. Neville was approximately thirty seconds away from jumping out of the car at the next red light and running all the way to the next location. Anything would be better than this torture.

He breathed a sigh of relief when they at last pulled up to a motel, Neville quickly scrambling to get out of the car and collect his things from the trunk. He could hear Jack was talking to the others -- something about going to make sure there were still some rooms available. After the bullshit that he'd just been through, the last thing he wanted was to have to pile back in that uncomfortable car and damn near get a fucking boner all because a certain Prince was incapable of keeping his hands to himself.

Neville was leaning back against the car, his arms crossed as he waited for Jack to make his return. In the meantime, Cedric and Mustafa were making conversation, animatedly discussing the events of that night's show. How can they still have so much energy? It's too damn late at night for this. Neville sighed. Christ, even in the dimly lit parking lot, Neville could still make out Mustafa's annoyingly white smile... He forced himself to look away from him.

He finally decided to join in on the conversation once Jack had come back, greeting him with a smart comment about how he took so long that he may as well have hooked up with the receptionist. This comment was pointedly ignored, much to Neville's chagrin, and things only seemed to get even worse for him from there -- it turned out that there were only two rooms open, which meant that they were going to have to share. Normally, Neville wouldn't have had a problem with this, as he'd shared rooms with people while on the road before.

It was the fact that Cedric volunteered to room with Jack that caused Neville's eyes to widen.

"Hold on, hold on, so you two are just going to leave me here?! With him?!" Neville hadn't recovered from the initial shock until after Jack and Cedric were on their way to their room, and he was left alone in the parking lot with his little roommate for the evening. Slowly, Neville's head turned, and he locked eyes with an almost proud looking Mustafa. Don't even tell me that this bastard planned this...

"Come on, King, it'll be fine." Mustafa led him over to the entrance to the motel, and Neville reluctantly followed, bags in tow, cursing himself and his awful fucking luck. It's okay, you've dealt with worse before... You're a King, for fuck's sake. Don't let this peasant ruin your evening... again.

After checking in, Neville walked alongside him until they reached their room -- 104 -- and he dropped his bag and watched as Mustafa struggled to get the door unlocked. "Any day now, Ali," he commented. "It's only a card key. It's not that complicated."

"Nice to see that despite being exhausted you can still find time to be a smartass," Mustafa replied, raising his eyebrows at Neville once he finally got the door opened. Neville allowed him to enter first, feeling his stomach drop when he noticed that Mustafa's eyes had grown wide.

"What? What's your problem? You finally realize that you're not on my level?"

"Uh, no..."

"Then what--" Neville pushed him out of the way and spotted what he was looking at, his own eyes going wide.

There was only one bed.

Fuck. Me.

Without saying another word, Neville snatched his bag up from the floor and turned to walk away, heading in the direction of the lobby. "Hey, King, where're you going?" Mustafa asked. Neville didn't even have to look at him to know he was smiling.

"Going to sleep out in the parking lot. If you need me -- and I really hope you don't -- I'll be curled up in the backseat."

"Oh, stop that." Mustafa grabbed him by the arm, tugging him back and pushing him towards the room. "There's no need to worry. I don't bite." He leaned in to speak in his ear. "Though I can if you really want me to."

"Oh, God, shut up..." Neville rolled his eyes, hoping to God that Mustafa couldn't tell just how hard his heart was pounding.

Neville's fists clench when he heard the door shut and lock behind him, and he placed his bag down, sitting at the foot of the bed and staring at the floor. He was ever aware of the fact that Mustafa was staring at him, and he took a deep breath, working up the nerve to look at him again. "Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"You're standing there, eyeing me up. You're freaking me out."

"My bad." Mustafa shoved his hands in his pockets. "Didn't realize it was illegal to look at you."

"Well, it is." Neville quickly stood up. "I need to get ready for bed. If I find out that you looked through my stuff while I was gone, I'm kicking your ass out of this room."

"Yes, because that's exactly what I was going to do the moment you left." Mustafa placed his own bag down on the bed and began to dig around inside of it. "King, I have more important things to worry about than whatever it is that you're hiding from me. You don't have to worry."

Neville looked at him warily, still not convinced, but he left his bag behind when he went to the bathroom after taking out his clothes and whatever he needed to wash up before bed. He quickly closed the door and leaned back against it, slowly letting out a deep sigh through his nose. They had only been alone for around ten or fifteen minutes, and already Mustafa was screwing with him.

What the hell was that comment about biting earlier? Neville wondered as he nervously brushed his teeth. What was he thinking, saying something like that to his King? Did he think I was going to have a positive response? He shook his head. Then again, now that he thought about it he did have a positive response -- a physical one, at that. He couldn't just let Mustafa know about that now, could he?

Just ignore him for the rest of the night. Neville undressed himself and slid on the pair of basketball shorts that he usually wore to bed, running his hands over the smooth fabric. You managed to ignore his bullshit for months. You can do it again for one more night.

Neville gave himself one last pep talk in the mirror before he left the bathroom, halting in his tracks when he noticed that Mustafa was still in the process of getting changed. "Are you serious..." He muttered, turning away. The image of his bare back was burned into his mind, and he chewed on his lip. It was annoying -- how many times had the two of them changed in front of each other while at work? They did it all the time, and yet it never fucked with Neville this much until he realized that he had this stupid crush on him. I swear, I'm gonna beat the shit out of Gallagher the first chance I--

"King--"

"What?!" Neville suddenly jumped when he felt Mustafa's hand on his bicep, and he swatted him away, praying that Mustafa didn't notice the goosebumps that were left behind on his arm as a result of his touch.

"Are you okay? You've been staring off into space for a little while now." Mustafa's head was cocked to the side.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know..." He sneered, pushing past him and lying on the bed. "It's none of your business. Move along."

"If you say so... Also, do you always sleep shirtless?" He asked. "Or is that only because you're sleeping with me tonight? I feel so privileged to sleep alongside the King's abs tonight."

"Get lost." Neville tensed, waiting until Mustafa had gone into the bathroom before letting out a soft, frustrated groan.

Mustafa had to know what he was doing. Everything that had happened between the two of them that night had to have been calculated -- the touching of Neville's thigh, that biting comment, waiting until he knew that Neville was definitely going to see him to take his shirt off... Mustafa had planned this from the very beginning. What he was hoping to do now that he had Neville all to himself was a mystery, and Neville would be damned before he let him continue to get away with it even more than he already had.

Neville stood up from the bed, pacing the room and waiting for Mustafa to come out. He wore a frustrated expression, the excruciating few minutes that he had to wait feeling like hours. Let's go, Prince... Your time as the mastermind is up...

"What are you doing back up?" Neville looked in the direction of the bathroom when he heard Mustafa's voice, and he started towards him.

"Tell me what's going on, Ali. Right now," he demanded.

"Woah, woah, take it easy." Mustafa took a few steps back. "There's nothing going on."

"Oh, bullshit. You've been deliberately fucking with me this entire night, and I want to know just what the hell you're trying to do."

"I'm only teasing! There's no need to get this riled up."

"Ah, except there is a need for me to get this riled up." Neville began to pace the room again, still glaring in Mustafa's direction. "A peasant such as yourself really thinks that he can get away with messing with the King's head. Well, you can't."

"Please explain to me how I've been screwing with you. I'm genuinely clueless."

"You've been fucking with me because..." Neville stopped. He realized that there was no other way to explain the situation without revealing his feelings. If he was going to go any further, he needed to come clean, though he wasn't anywhere near ready to confess in that moment.

"King? You're zoning out again," Mustafa pointed out.

"Because..." Christ, now isn't the time to be getting tongue tied! Just fucking say it already! "Because you know I..." Neville lowered his voice so that it was just above a whisper. "...ke you..."

"What was that?" His brow furrowed. "I didn't hear what you said there."

"What, can you not hear? I said it clear as day."

"King, you haven't explained a damn thing to me! How am I supposed to make things better between us if you won't even be upfront about what's wrong?" Neville didn't respond, so Mustafa walked towards him, stopping when their faces were only a few inches apart. "Neville, just say it."

"It's because you know I fucking like you!!" Neville blurted out, the shocked look on Mustafa's face making him feel like he'd just made a mistake. *No taking it back now...* "There, are you happy? Are you happy now, Mustafa, since we're suddenly so keen on referring to each other by our actual names?"

"I, u-uh... Wow, I didn't expect you to come out with it like that." Mustafa's face was bright red. "You think that I somehow... organized this whole thing to mess with you, all because I knew you had a crush on me?"

"Didn't you? This whole thing wouldn't make sense otherwise. You had to have planned this."

"I mean..." He scratched at the back of his neck. "It's true that I told Jack and Cedric earlier that I wanted to share a room with you tonight if possible, but I didn't do it because I wanted to hurt you or anything. I only did it because I wanted to help you."

"Help?" Neville repeated. "You think that fucking with my emotions is somehow helping me?"

"I wanted to give you a space to confess, if you wanted to. Any other time we've spoken has been in a public place like the locker room. I figured that if you and I finally had some alone time, maybe you'd want to speak up, and you definitely did." Mustafa laughed nervously. "That's all I did though. I planned us staying in the same room, but anything else that I did was a coincidence. I swear."

"I'm sure it was, Ali..." Neville breathed. Now that the truth was out there, he felt a little relieved, but he was mostly anxious. Mustafa knew the whole time that he liked him, but did he return the feelings at all? Or was he only going along with it just so that Neville wouldn't feel bad? All of these questions swirling around in his mind caused Neville to feel just as nervous has he had been before he confessed.

"How many times are you gonna zone out in front of me?" Mustafa snapped him out of his little trance. "Why do you--"

Before he could finish talking, Neville had grabbed hold of either side of his face, pulling him in for a kiss. Neville miscalculated a little bit, however, and ended up kissing the corner of his mouth, pulling away just as quickly as he pulled him in.

"Jesus Christ, I can't believe I fucked that up..." Neville growled. It was now his turn to blush, and he wasn't happy about it. "Listen, just... forget that this whole thing ever happened, okay?" Neville began to make his way towards the bed when Mustafa put a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around. "I thought I said to move on--"

Mustafa placed a finger on Neville's lips to silence him and, without saying another word, kissed him properly. Neville breathed in sharply through his nose, his heart feeling like it was about to burst at any moment, and his eyes slowly slid shut as he returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around his waist and holding him closer. Jesus Christ... Jesus Christ...

After a few seconds had gone by, they pulled away, Mustafa chuckling at the uncharacteristically flustered look on Neville's face. "You good, King?" He asked, beaming at him.

Neville blinked at him for a moment before nodding, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he said. "Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine, Prince."

[dreamsinlilac]

Oh my God, you’re in love with her.

Prompts as requested by @missy-poppins91

HB Drill Fluff under the cut.  (Berena version is up on AO3 already :D)

“And so I said, ‘Oh my God, you’re in love with her.’, and of course as we all now know I was completely correct.”  

At Jamie’s words the entire table burst out laughing, although Imogen was blushing slightly as she raised her glass of prosecco to her friend.  Still, as she felt the reassuring touch of her wife’s hand under the table she realised there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“My wife.  Wow.”  As she listened to Jamie regaled the wedding party with tales of her pining over the seemingly completely unavailable Constance, Imogen couldn’t quite believe how much things had changed in less than two years.

“But how did you really know she was in love with her?”  Abby sat with her elbows on the table, chin resting on her hands and her eyes wide with excitement as she listened to the stories being shared.

“Well Abs, it started by being told how pretty Constance was.  The exact shade of brown her eyes were, how beautiful her hair was, details of every outfit she wore, things like that.  That happened every time Imogen came home for the weekend.  Then it got a little bit more personal, she’d talk about how clever Constance was, well is, how she’d sometimes try and hide the kind things she did like helping the students, looking after the new kittens or helping out with the school.”

The wine was making Jamie’s tongue loose, something he realised as he saw the flush start to appear on the other bride’s neck.  A little teasing was one thing but he didn’t want either of them to feel really embarrassed, especially not today.

“I suppose I just knew Imogen so well and I knew she had found someone very special.  That’s why I was so happy when I found out they were together and I’m even happier that I can be here with them today.”

“Me too.” Abby declared, lifting her glass of fizzy apple juice for another toast.

“Thank you.”  Constance, still a bit overwhelmed by the kind words that were being shared, beamed at everyone.  Her smile grew even larger as Abby climbed into her lap, immediately resting her head on Constance’s shoulder.  “Are you tired?”

“No way!”  Abby shook her head.  “I napped a lot this morning and I’m having too much fun to be tired.  I hope I’m not squishing your dress but I really wanted a cuddle, is that okay?”

“Of course it is. And my dress is perfectly fine.”  Constance ran her hand through Abby’s hair as they sat together. listening to the various other conversations that were happening around the table.

It was a party though and there was only so long that they would get away with sitting down for, especially when the music was playing.

“May I have this dance?”, Imogen held her hand out invitingly.

“Do you mind?”  Abby really wanted to dance with her Mummy but didn’t want  to abandon Constance.

Before Constance could tell her that of course she didn’t she received an offer of her own.

“I hear you have some moves.”, Jamie grinned as he saw the raised eyebrow aimed in his direction. “Care to show me?”

“Well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse?”  Constance stood up, feeling only slightly awkward as she stepped into Jamie’s arms to dance to the slower song that was now playing in the background.  

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you earlier, I didn’t mean to.”

“No, you didn’t, not really”, Constance shook her head.  “Why would I be embarrassed by knowing that the woman I myself was falling for felt the same way that I did back than.”

“Phew.”, Jamie felt a massive sense of relief wash over him.

“I hope you don’t feel I’ve taken Imogen away from you.”  Maybe it was the closeness or the couple of glasses of wine she had consumed but the only real worry that was playing on her mind came out.

“No, God no.  Never.”  I’m so happy for her and for you.  I haven’t lost anything, only gained this amazing new friend. ”

Jamie was being completely honest in this regard.  Perhaps there had been a very short period of time where for the first time ever, he had developed a little crush on one of Imogen’s girlfriends but that had passed and he could recognise that it was probably more interest and admiration than anything romantic.  Now he loved the woman he was dancing with but in a purely platonic friendship way and he was thrilled that she was in his life.

“Thank you.”  Constance’s eyes were sparkling with joy, then with a stronger emotion as she glanced over at Imogen and Abby dancing together.

“I know.”  No words were needed, Jamie knew exactly what she was thinking.  Anyone who didn’t know any better would think that the two really were mother and daughter.  “And I’m going to hazard a guess that you fell in love again this year.”

“You would be completely correct, she’s incredible and just like with Imogen, knowing her has opened my mind up to so many possibilities.”  

“She sure is.  And from what you and Imogen have said you’ll have one of your own pretty soon.”  

“Yes, we hope so anyway.”  Constance knew that Jamie wasn’t aware how they would conceive, just that she and Imogen wanted a child.   “Is it terribly wrong for me to want one who’s just like Abby?”

Jamie laughed.  “Get in line, I’d quite like the same if I ever have a family.  Maybe a bit less of the shin kicking threats but yeah, she’s a very easy kid to fall in love with.”

“She is indeed.”

Meanwhile oblivious to the fact that she was being talked about, Abby was enjoying her dance with Imogen and in typical Abby style had some questions to be answered.

“Were you in love with your girlfriends before Constance?”

“There were a couple I loved but once I met Constance it was clear that it hadn’t been in the same way that I love her.”

Abby thought about this for a few seconds.  “Kinda like when I think I have a really great Lego set and I get a new one and realise the older one was only okay?”

Imogen threw back her head and laughed loudly.  “A little bit like that, though you’ll probably find more Lego sets in the future, Constance is the only girlfriend, well wife now, that I’ll ever have in my life. This is a forever kind of in love.”

“You have a wife now.  You are a wife, does that feel strange?”

“Yes, but it’s a great strange.”

The song changed to one with a faster beat but still they kept dancing slowly as they had been, both wanting a few more minutes cuddled together.

“What Jamie said about Constance, about why you love her….”, Abby tailed off, not sure if what she was saying was a little silly.

“Go on honey.”

“Well, it made me realise how much I love her too, kind of like I love you.  Is that okay?  Would she mind?  Do you? ”

Not wanting to ruin her make up or to alarm Abby, Imogen blinked back the tears that were threatening to flow down her face.  “Oh Abby, she wouldn’t mind at all.  I love that you feel that way about her and we’re both so excited about you being a part of our lives.  And can I tell you a secret?”

Abby nodded, her face breaking into a grin as the person who would always be her Mummy whispered in her ear.

“She does?”

“Oh yes honey, she’s completely in love with you too. Just like I am.”

“Forever in love with me?”

From where she had stood listening to the very end of their conversation, Constance shared a glance with Imogen, waiting for the nod that said she should make her presence known.

“Oh yes my dear, very much forever.”, she whispered as she lifted Abby into her arms.

“Cool.  Me too.” Abby hugged them both and made a wish, hoping that maybe there was some way it could come true forever.

It was a wish that without realising, the three of them were making, never dreaming that it would come true just four short months into their futures.