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pockymllk · 3 years ago

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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

#manhwa recommendation #pocky's manhwa recs #manhwa recs #manhwa #a symbiotic relationship between a rabbit and a black panther #the villainess is a marionette #book recommendations #10/10 would recommend #a capable maid #romance

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hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little · 4 years ago

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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.

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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.”

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#hawks x reader #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #keigo takami x reader #hawks #keigo takami #bnha hawks

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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

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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.

#bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #reader insert #fanfiction #bucky barnes

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freakova · 5 years ago

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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.

#Freakova speaks #Oddworld #Soulstorm #AND HEY! THAT'S JUST A THEORY! A gAmE tHeOrY!#I have not done anything like this in a long time but I tried #Also when all this is proven wrong in SS feel free to call me a clown

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dragonbat2011 · 5 years ago

Text

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…

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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."

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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."

#ouat fanfiction #ouat #char: rumpelstiltskin #char: baelfire #char: Zelena #char: Morraine #char: Fendrake #papafire

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owenepierce · 5 years ago

Text

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

#para #para: adam sylvester #adam sylvester #easter event #gleedsmeaster20

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spideychelleforever · 6 years ago

Text

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

#spideychelle #michelle jones #zendaya #tom holland #mj #tomdaya #peter parker #spideychelle headcanon #michelle #zendaya coleman #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones x peter parker #far from home #spider man: far from home

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junghelioseok · 7 years ago

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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.

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts #jeon jungkook #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bangtan boys #lia writes

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thesweatycollectiontyrant · 6 years ago

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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.

#musical theatre #110 in the shade #inga swenson #audra mcdonald #ron raines #classic shows #classic musicals #theatre #broadway #karen ziemba #western #audition help #audition songs #lizzie curry

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scifimagpie · 4 years ago

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The Secret of Evil

I’d been sitting on this concept for a while, and then I found myself relaxing on Youtube one night, watching a film reviewer’s analyses — and I was jolted from my comfortable mood and into a flurry of expository frothing.

Possible content warning for talk about cults, general acts of violence, the dark side of humanity, cops, abuse — you get the idea.

Now, I think Ryan Hollinger does a great job of analysing this giving the constraints of his expertise and knowledge. I generally love his channel, and would recommend it. However, the underlying concept of this movie bothered me so greatly that, well — here we are.

youtube

What is evil?

For our purposes, “evil” refers to socially unacceptable, transgressive acts that cause harm to others. Examples include violent acts, sexual assault, murder, theft, fraud, lying — you get it.

Now, as long as humanity has been living in groups, squatting near our little fires, we’ve quarreled and bickered and occasionally wronged or harmed each other — sometimes, more severely than at others. The call to understand both our own dark impulses and bad decisions and to understand those taken by others appears to be pretty universal. Narratives and folkloric tales about evil, good, punishment, and morality appear in every single human civilization and culture, from small subsistence clans and tribes to our modern era.

I have a strong interest in cults, extremist groups, new religious movements, and that kind of thing. I’ve always wondered how “evil” came to be. It was a while before I understood that evil is a verb, not an actual force in the world.

But writers — especially in Hollywood, but in the general creative sphere as well — don’t all have degrees in the human condition. And while that’s fine, what is not fine is the way that evil is portrayed and continues to be portrayed. Not to mention the fact that criminality is often portrayed as “evil,” regardless of whether or not the criminal actions harmed anyone (i.e. an expired license plate vs a speeding ticket vs an assault charge).

Now, fun, lighter-hearted portrayals of evil aren’t really the issue here — I’m talking more about the serious portrayals, where a movie or story is really trying to Say Something. The silly portrayals of things, however, are rooted in the more serious stuff — so let’s talk about what we see as evil.

There’s no such thing as “born evil”

Take a minute with it. If you already know that, and are going, “yeah, duh,” then let me explain the whole “evil” thing in the context of murderers. I’m so tired of these bad, stupid true crime narratives about someone who just “wakes up and does bad things”. They allow us to ignore the massive preponderance of people who a) commit crimes for survival purposes, b) the misunderstandings of how mental health issues and neurodivergence works (i.e. “evil autistic” etcetera), and c) socio-economic factors, not to mention d) the cycle of abuse. That’s not even including e) cultural dehumanization of others caused by privilege — such as with wealth, perceived moral authority, or racist or gender-based ideas, to name but a few.

Let me run through those again with examples. Now, I’m not saying these are actually all “causes of evil,” but they’re various examples of causes of harmful acts, that some people might label — fairly or unfairly — as evil. Some of these groups and people are especially vulnerable to maltreatment, and especially innocent of what they’re accused of, but culturally, we don’t usually act like that’s the case.

a) survival criminality — doing something bad for either good reasons or personal safety. Example: stealing a TV to pay for a child’s school fees; stealing to pay for drugs in the case of an addiction

b) mental health issues and neurodivergence — people who experience impaired empathy and/or struggle to conform to societal cultural norms. Example: an autistic child slapping a caregiver during a meltdown, because they feel angry and/or threatened.

c) socio-economic factors — poverty is often criminalised, and some people — in Canada, that includes Indigenous, Metis, and First Nations people, and Black, African, and Caribbean Canadians in particular — are disproportionately accused of and suspected of crimes. This can lead to being forced into the prison system, loss of opportunities, prejudice, and murder. If you’ve heard the phrase “school to prison pipeline” regarding the way Black people are treated, you’ll know what I’m talking about. (If you don’t, look it up; it’s very important. Also horrifying.) Example: a store manager points at a Black child for acting “suspicious,” assuming the child has stolen a candy bar. (Depending on the portrayal, either the child will be implied to be “evil” or the store owner will be “evil”.)

d) the cycle of abuse. Abuse survivors who don’t deal with their experiences in some way go on to abuse others. Example: a man who is assaulted by his uncle may later go on to assault his daughter’s friend in her teen years. Alternately, an abused child may go on to abuse her spouse in adulthood.

e) cultural dehumanization of others caused by privilege — such as with wealth, perceived moral authority, or racist or gender-based ideas, to name but a few. The trope of the Evil Rich Executive from the 80s is a good example. See also, President of the US #45 for abundant and horrifying examples of dehumanizing and abusing others.

Does evil even exist?

I mean, colloquially, sure. As a primeval force? No. Even companies that profit from true crime content will, with some bashfulness, admit that a significant majority of the “terrifying killers” they love to portray are just severely abused people who’ve ended up lashing out in the worst possible ways. In the exceptionally rare cases where multiple murderers aren’t actually abused in childhood and/or suffering severe adverse effects, there’s often neurological damage involved.

However, as you can see from this brief analysis, it’s pretty clear that evil is more of a verb than a state of being. Someone’s actions can be evil, but defining a person as “evil” assigns a certain kind of evaluation that is both dehumanizing and oddly absolving. I won’t dive into the depths of Christian theology about evil right now — but even in games like Dungeons and Dragons, confronting the question of “evil races” (yikes) has required some updates and changes. And frankly, that’s a good thing.

How do we write about bad things and evil, then?

Don’t take this essay as the vituperative howling of an inveterate killjoy. Rather, it’s a plea for authors to realise that the old stories we’ve been telling are not only dusty and boring from overuse, they’re deeply inaccurate. The real world’s cues are so much more interesting and fertile, and trying to tell the same old mortality tales that have already been explored — without adding to them — is both artistically annoying and actually pretty harmful.

All of these things can still make for incredible, nuanced, interesting, gripping stories…but NoOoooooo, Hollywood still loves, “but what if just pure evil?” At this point, the thought experiment side of it is no longer a good argument. It’s become the predominant understanding of how crime, especially murderers, work — and that’s really, really bad.

We learn about the world from the narratives we take in — whether that’s pursuing true crime tales late into the night or listening to harrowing tales of social justice and fights against societal forces, or even just watching a fun, dumb horror movie. Luckily, there’s a lot of wonderful work that’s been coming out that does take these nuanced, complicated stories into account — to list some podcasts I love, How We Roll, Dungeons and Randomness, Campaign: Skyjacks, The Adventure Zone, and Critical Role all tend to feature plenty of nuance in the “evil” characters, as well as in the “good” ones.

So ask yourself — who are the heroes in this tale, and in the world? Who do you instinctively take the side of when you see a real-world conflict? Although we all pride ourselves on being able to tell the differences between facts and fiction, our construction of the world comes from stories — and that means we have to be honest about who we label “the bad guys,” and why.

***

Michelle Browne is a sci fi/fantasy writer and editor. She lives in Lethbridge, AB with her partner-in-crime and their cats. Her days revolve around freelance editing, knitting, jewelry, and learning too much. She is currently working on other people’s manuscripts, the next books in her series, and drinking as much tea as humanly possible.

#evil #writing #how to #morality #sociology #psychology #true crime #commentary #podcasts #editing #narrative

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astrotranslations · 7 years ago

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[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

#MJ #Myungjun #Rocky #Minhyuk #Sanha #astronomy

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babilun · 7 years ago

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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!

#.ooc #follower forever #BIG THANK YOU #HAPPY NEW YEARS #GURGLES THIS TOO LONGER THAN I THOUGHT OOPS #man I sound more sappier than I feel

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paperficwriter · 7 years ago

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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.”

#my paperfics #boku no hero academia #kiribaku #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #these boys #i love these boys

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fiercyy · 7 years ago

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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?

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfic #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #naruto fanfiction #my fic #stop time I want to get off #the other trash anime

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pfs-peridot · 8 years ago

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Acephobia, Allosexuality, and what it means to be Queer

I’ve been meaning to provide a comprehensive overview of the so-called “ace discourse” that seems to course through the internet every few years, like a UTI that’s survived 3 half-hearted trials of antibiotics, only ever fading- never dying. As an asexual individual that has been out in this world since the Year of our Lord 2010, there have been wild misconceptions surrounding this issue for as long as I can remember. Let’s start with some basics, just for fun.

Disclaimer: As an alloromantic person, I will not be speaking in regard to aromantics. Most of this stuff can be generalized, sure, but I don’t want to act like I know what it’s like to be aromantic when I truly don’t. Write your own analyses! Speak out! Smash the cishetallopatriarchy!

Asexual? Like a plant?

No, I do not experience a sexual attraction to myself. No, not all asexuals masturbate, nor do all asexuals not masturbate. I have never once woken up with a clone of myself nestled beside me, having reproduced as a microorganism would. These may seem silly things to think in this year, but this was the majority of conversation when I first began to come out. Figured I might as well get them out of the way early on.

Asexuality is defined as a non-normative lack of sexual attraction to anyone regardless of gender. “Normative” is a handy little word that means “outside of the spectrum which is considered “normal” by society”. For example, the construct of cisnormativity implies that being cisgender is the “normative” state for an individual to be. Thus, in the definition, you can hopefully begin to see what’s so queer about asexuality. Here are some more terms the community has!

Sex-positive Ace: An asexual individual who does not mind having sex

Sex-negative Ace: An asexual individual who would prefer to have no sex at all

Sex-repulsed Ace: An asexual individual who abhors all forms of sexual contact- for some, this includes activities like visiting a gynecologist.

Demi-asexual/Demisexual: An asexual that can experience sexual attraction once they have reached a level of closeness with an individual.

Grey-asexual: An asexual that experiences some level of sexual attraction, though not nearly enough to be considered within the “normative” range

Allosexual: A person that experiences a normative level of sexual attraction. Consider this term to be much like the terms “white”, “cisgender”, “abled”, “heterosexual”, and the like. It’s not that it’s necessarily bad to be this way, it’s just that being this way protects you from the discrimination that asexuals experience. Some dislike the term because “it groups me in with heterosexuals!”, but truly any adjective does that. I don’t see people saying “don’t call me white, it groups me in with heterosexuals!”.

It is truly not up to a bystander to determine whether or not someone is asexual. Personally, I knew that I was the moment I saw the term. Many said things along the lines of “Oh, you’re 15, you just haven’t bloomed yet”. However, I wouldn’t say that the analysis that you must be “of age” to identify as anything is necessarily true- Part of the reason I identified so heavily with the term was that I could feel how abnormal I was.

My friends would talk about topics around sex, and I felt incredibly unengaged. I felt like the only person within my age group that felt the way I did. The sense of being an outsider was what caused me to gravitate to understanding myself as an asexual individual. Regardless of the sex-positive education I sought, despite having a friend group that adamantly put down any slut shaming, I could never find it within me to be sexually attracted to anyone. Many told me I was broken. I certainly felt that way. Finding a proper way to define myself helped me to embrace my difference instead.

Queer Enough To Ride

I would first like to reach out to those of you that believe that asexuality is not “queer” enough to be part of the LGBTQIA+ community- I understand why you want to gatekeep, that is- to staff the entrance to the community, deciding who is and who is not allowed within. Many of you are bisexual, nonbinary, and other queer folks that were once the subject of the “are you queer enough to ride” argument.

I myself gatekept like you did. I quantified how trans a person needed to be to be considered part of the umbrella. I attempted to divide the bisexual community between “fake” and “real” bisexuals. I did this largely for one reason- I felt like I didn’t belong. I felt that, by providing a baseline, I could place myself squarely into a place of validity. If I could say where “not queer” began, I could say that I was surely queer! In my desperation to prove myself, I denounced the experiences of others. What I’ve now realized is an amazing concept: if we were to define all folks that felt ostracized for their presentations of gender and orientation (and wish to identify with the word itself, which not everyone does) as queer, that automatically does include us! As for using the word “queer”? I’ll turn to a very good friend of mine for this one - @neurostorm

Oh goodie, another fight over the operational definition of the word ‘queer.’ If you are taking the reclaimed slur approach, then NBs (which were largely unknown when the slur was at its apex and was strategically reclaimed), transmasculine people (whom the oppressor barely knows exist), and arguably even cis lesbians (who often had different slurs hurled toward them exclusively) don’t have a right to use it either; because the slur was disproportionately applied to gay men and transfeminine people (since the oppressor believed they were one and the same). However, it was agreed that by extension of a general oppression that all gay people and all trans people could “have” it. It was this same idea of general oppression that started the LGBT+ coalition, since on a 10,000 foot level, the oppressor saw them all as just different manifestations of the same thing. The redefinition of the slur to become synonymous with the political coalition was part of its reclamation. The strategy was twofold. First- use its deliberate fuzziness to capture all the edge cases, as gender and sexuality are highly individualized. Second - use this re-branding to neutralize the slur’s power further by completely transforming it to mean something else entirely in the hearts and minds of the cis-hetero world. Regardless of how one defines that term, there is one very basic truth. It has ABSOLUTELY NO BEARING on who gets to be considered a part of the greater LGBT+ coalition, whether or not the term is used to define it! So with that said, how SHOULD we define those who are included? Opinions vary, but strictly for the “sexuality” part of the equation of things, my personal definition I tend to fall back to is that it meets 3 basic categories. 1. Its a significant departure from standard sexuality. 2. It’s a significant departure from expectations placed upon you by society’s sexual defaults. 3. It has a major impact on ones life in how they relate to society’s sexual expectations. This doesn’t imply oppression a priori, and this is deliberate. Oppression is a byproduct of greater society being shitty to certain groups based on their identity, not a part of their identity itself (if it was, then that identity ceases to exist if the oppression against it stops, and I don’t stop being autistic just because I wake up in a paradise where abelism doesn’t exist). Oppression would be that there is a systemic pattern of mistreatment and bias that conforms to and is promoted by the power structures that be, disempowering and marginalizing the other group for their deviance from the imagined normal. So then, about the aces. Where do they fall in in regards to this criteria. 1. Asexuality is a significant departure from standard sexuality, as standard sexuality assumes a moderate-to-high level of libido and desire by default (less so for female perceived people, but less is not none). 2. Asexuality is a significant departure from expectations placed upon one because they are expected to perform sexuality and have a certain level of desire in order to be seen as good partners (and in the case of male-identified people, have their gender validated). 3. This has a major impact on ones life because the expectation and desire of sexuality (or at least the performance thereof for the sake of another) is seen as a default part of romantic relationships to the point where it is implicitly believed by some that it is the sole reason they exist. It has a major impact in that it is always assumed to be childhood trauma, shyness, and “not meeting the right person” (and you know what, even when that is the case it doesn’t invalidate the asexuality they have).

I’ll return to their infodump in just a bit, as they did have more to say. No, they are neither cis nor het, if you’re intent in devaluing their opinion. In fact, they’re not ace! So I will add some of my experience to the meat of their argument. I currently identify as GenderVague (being on the autism spectrum, I don’t necessarily have the best grasp of structures like “gender”), bi/panromantic, and asexual. I did not come out as any form of nonbinary until 2014, as I didn’t have the terms to describe myself, and I did not come out as non-heteroromantic until I forced myself into a state of inebriation (read: became absolutely plastered) and, well, slept with a girl to prove myself.

I knew that I liked girls, don’t get me wrong! It’s just incredibly hard to prove that, you see, when you’re asexual. I could say that I crushed on girls since the 3rd grade all I liked, but I was forever a “fake bisexual” until I could say that I had sex with a woman. That community mindset (and a desire to not disappoint my allosexual gf) led to me doing what I did, all in the effort to validate myself.

I guess I’m bringing all of this up to say this- whenever I hear people talking about those “cishet aces” always “trying to invade” yadda yadda, I see myself in 2012. To the majority of queer folks, I absolutely appeared straight, being closeted. I’m certain asexual aromantics also are devalued as “straight” for the same reasons. I don’t think any of us are any less queer, forcing ourselves to have sex or not. I also really don’t think anyone whose m.o. is not being interested in sex will get much of anything besides community from being recognized as queer. And for those that identify as heteroromantic in full spirit? I’m going to echo what asexual people of all orientations have been saying- if you say that they’re not welcome, but you say that I’m welcome, you’re specifically stating that my experiences as an asexual person are nothing. Since I personally received far more discrimination for being asexual than for being bi (I emphasize personally, as everyone has different experiences), I feel invalidated when people say I wouldn’t be queer without being bi. You can’t consider my asexuality queer while at the same time stating that asexuality as a whole is not queer. Let’s go onto the second half of @neurostorm ‘s rant-

As for oppression, there is a systemic pattern of mistreatment and marginalization against asexual people that favors the power structure. The Asexual community can probably answer this in more detail, but off the top of my head, one example of systemic oppression is that society sees a low-libido as a kind of arrested development of maturation (which plays in to abelism in some ways too). Society will pressure asexuals to perform sexuality and force-spark development through things such as corrective rape. Society will flat out erase the existence of asexual people (I know many an evangelical who believe that there is no such thing as an asexual person, and that anybody who says so is just trying to virtue signal and hasn’t admitted their “sins of the heart” to themselves). All of these examples and more are promoted, encouraged, and tacitly accepted by greater society at large. All of these examples are born from and promoted by minor and major biases saturated in the consciousness of the majority of the population, and favoring the power structure that currently exists. That effectively MAKES it oppression using the definition I provided earlier. It is a “…systemic pattern of mistreatment and bias that conforms to and is promoted by the power structures that be, disempowering and marginalizing the other group [in this case, asexuals] for their deviance from the imagined normal.” So to recap. My argument is as follows. 1. The strategy to re-brand “queer” as a coalition name is deliberate and decided upon by the greater LGBT+ community in roughly the 1990s-2000s. If someone personally doesn’t want to be referred to that way, that’s all well and good, but it’s not their place to tell another how they should refer to themselves. This applies to any reclaimed slur, term, or identity phrasing (i.e. the argument of identity-first language vs person-first language in the greater disabled community [other disabled folks can refer to themselves however they want, but they don’t get to tell me I HAVE to use person-first language when I greatly prefer identity-first language to describe myself]). 2. Regardless of how 'queer’ is operationally defined, that has no bearing on whether or not asexuals can be part of the greater political coalition. 3. Going by what I feel is a reasonable set of basic criteria, Asexuals ARE qualified to be a part of the greater political coalition. 4. It can be demonstrably proven that asexuals are systemically oppressed by virtue of their asexuality.

There’s certainly folks that are attempting at this very moment to argue that allowing asexuals into pride will mean that ace voices will take over “more important ones”. I would like to introduce you to a concept that every pride I’ve been involved in fails to implement- prioritizing intersectional voices. Giving the mic to trans lesbians of color instead of white cis gay men. For the love of Marsha P.

Hell, as a disabled, trans, bi, asexual, autistic immigrant I’m 10 times as intersectional as Tyler Oakley, so can we stop making him our first choice for a speaker? I’ll get off this tangent, but my point is that I am actively dreaming of a world where people that are only one letter of the whole acronym don't speak over all the rest of us. I don’t think it’s fair to be fearful of asexual folks taking up space when our community is so blatantly whitewashed and ciswashed as it stands. Speak out in favor of intersectionality for everyone, stop giving white cis gay men a pass to speak over everyone.

Acephobia

Acephobia, Acemisia, Aceantagonism- There’s a multitude of names to describe the systematic oppression and violence that asexual folks experience. I personally prefer “Acemisia” because it takes up fewer Twitter characters and doesn’t associate itself with mental ailments like agoraphobia, but I’ll call it acephobia since that’s what the kids on here are saying. Acephobia, like other forms of discrimination, is too wide to be wholly understood in a simple lesson, so forgive me if I don’t touch on some issues. In general, oppression exists on multiple levels-

Institutional violence- discrimination written into schools, churches, public offices, and other power structures that make up The State.

Social violence- discrimination carried out as an unwritten social rule through everyday language and encounters

Physical/sexual violence- murder, rape, the fun stuff! /sarcasm

I’m going to try to address each level the best that I can, so bear with me.

Institutions & Asexuality

Many queer folks will use religious texts and fundamentalist Christian views to outline why their oppression in society is legitimate, and this is because The Church is an institution that entwines itself in a lot of issues of morality and law, especially in regards to marriage and love. A common argument that I hear is that asexual folks face no such oppression in that system. However, as an asexual who has discussed this issue for the better part of 7 years at this point, I have discovered this- fundamentalist Christian people do hate asexuality, specifically because it throws a wrench in the idea that one has to consummate a marriage. For those unfamiliar, consummation of a marriage is the act of having sex after a wedding in order to prove the marriage legitimate.

“But isn’t asexuality the same thing as chastity??” you ask, clearly illustrating that you don’t get the point that we are not experiencing any sexual attraction at all, no matter how hard we try. The problem is that asexual folks don’t “get over” this “phase”. Many of us are unable to consummate marriages, and to not consummate a marriage deems the marriage, in the eyes of the church, illegitimate. This isn’t merely a thought experiment- I do know asexual folks that legitimately were run out of their home for disclosing that they would never marry “the way God intended”. That’s actually a reason for marriage cancellation- “annulment due to a failure to consummate the marriage”. Thus, you can see that the institution of the church, which affects the institution of marriage, which we all know impacts relationships very intimately, has a very marked issue with putting its head around the idea of a sexless marriage. When the same-sex-marriage debate was still young in the early 2000s, many opponents claimed that the reason same-sex marriage was sinful was because the process of consummation would require, in their gross words, “sodomy”. I brought up that many asexual homoromantic couples were likely seeking the ability to marry, and this idea jarred them further- they were outraged that anyone could refuse to consummate a marriage, and stated that a sexless marriage was effectively more of an insult to God than a marriage that brought forth “sodomy” [blech].

There are other institutions where asexuality is actively discriminated against within- I was actually given an intervention in a liberal middle school for writing in health class that I had no plans to have sex, and I quote, “never never ever EVERRR!!!”. I know, mildly excessive, but I was completely sex-repulsed at that age. Multiple teachers were brought in to try to convince me, stating that at my age, “you really need to be thinking about sex rather than trying to avoid it”. Even though this program focused on encouraging students to abstain from sex until they’re ready, they found it problematic that I had no interest in “EVERRR!!!” performing the act. It spoke heavily to the hypocrisy that even abstinence-encouraging programs have when faced with asexual students.

Asexuality in Society

There were countless YouTubers that popped up around the year 2010 that discussed in depth the social ramifications of coming out as an asexual individual. One in particular that I followed was swankivy, who was immersed in discourse in the immensely queerphobic 2009 youtube and OkCupid community. She heard everything from “you’re clearly a lesbian in denial, come out of the closet and join us” to “you’re straight because that’s the default”. In fact, she has almost a decade’s worth of videos titled “Letters to an Asexual” that highlight the sorts of comments we receive on a daily basis. If you couldn’t already guess, many of the comments indicated that she wouldn’t be so controversial if she could pick a “real” sexuality, and stick with it. People often told her things like “it’s ok to be a lesbian” after she had already argued extensively that her asexuality was how she was made and who she was. I know that 2009 youtube videos don’t age the best, so take all of those low-quality films with a grain of salt- a lot of homophobia got launched at her in the early days, and nobody in 2009 was entirely unproblematic.

As the asexual community began to receive recognition from both queer and cis/het communities, their placement was treated like a game of hot potato. We didn’t fit in with the cis/het community, as we still got accused of being broken for not experiencing sexual attraction. The queer community hasn’t wanted us either, for largely the same reasons. We were too deviant to fit in with the mythical norm, and simultaneously too deviant to fit in with the counter-norm. Both communities had very staunch views on sex that we couldn’t fit into.

Eventually, the A in LGBTQIA+ made space for us. By the year of 2011, I began to see space made in the queer community as a whole for asexual folks. Many empathized with our struggle to find a place of belonging, especially bisexual and trans folks that had been overshadowed by the L and the G for decades. This was a magical moment for me. I didn’t get queer theory at this point. I didn’t totally understand gender & sexuality studies at 16. There was just a piece of me that finally felt welcome. I was allowed to be myself, and everyone was expected to educate themselves on my lived experience to make that possible. I stopped being bombarded with questions and started being able to talk to asexual lesbian and bi girls, asexual trans folks, and everyone else that showed me that it just might be ok for me to be more complicated than society would like me to be. … I’m typically a person that speaks uniquely in logical & academic terms, but looking back at that moment in time is difficult for me to succinctly verbalize. It is incredible to find a place of belonging… I don’t think I would have survived had I not had a community. Being an asexual teen was only bearable the moment people said “You know what? It sucks that people are shitty to you for not being into sex. You can hang out here, we think you’re pretty cool anyways. If you wanna talk about sex we’re down but we totally respect how you were made and know what it’s like to be forced into being someone you aren’t”. I can prove to you with study upon study that unconditional love and acceptance is absolutely integral to a developing teen, but I don’t think even that would attest enough to how blessed I was to find a community who was ok with the way I was.

Asexuality, Sex, and Rape

This section contains sensitive content that details largely my personal experiences with corrective rape and coercion. If you may have a difficult time reading, give yourself a moment to prepare. I feel that this discussion isn’t nearly whole without this piece.

Firstly, we must discuss the term “corrective rape”. I hear often that it is impossible for me to have experienced corrective rape, as I do not identify as a lesbian woman. Let’s break this down as gently as possible- Firstly, if you’re going to claim that asexual corrective rape is “appropriation” of a lesbian term, I hope you also exclude white lesbians from using that term, seeing as a doctor coined it in discussing the corrective rape of black lesbian women in South Africa. Alternatively, we can understand that it’s a term that very succinctly identifies an experience in which someone is targeted for sexual assault in the attempt to “cure” them of an undesirable sexuality. We really ought to give more credit to black innovations of language in general, but I think you see the point that it’s easier to say “I was correctively raped” than “I was targeted for rape by a bisexual guy that believed that asexuality specifically needed to be raped out of someone”. Hopefully, we’re clear on this now.

In 2012, I met Eric Epperson at an anime-con sort of event. He was a bi cisgender allosexual man. He knew I was asexual, and promised that we could “go slow” if I agreed to date him. Seeing as this was my first ever experience with a relationship (and being autistic and easily manipulated), I naively agreed to date him. He, predictably, did not hold true to his promise and forced me to become sexual with him early on in the relationship by saying “well how will I know you really love me if you’re not willing to make love to me?”. He was very effective at discreetly threatening me with abandonment and slander (and more, later) were I to ever say no to his advances.

Some months into the abusive relationship, I finally persuaded him to watch a documentary on Asexuality in the hopes that he would learn how uncomfortable I was with sex. He made multiple comments on how effectively raping the male star would make him give up asexuality (He was a “feminist”, though, so he never called what he did rape). He referred to asexuals featured as “creepy freaks”. He boasted about how he had cured me and turned me into a “normal person” by threatening me and guilting me into allowing him to do what he wanted to me. He commented on what a sad, empty life the male star must have, not knowing the joy of having Eric’s dick inside of him. He and his mother, a cisgender bisexual woman, were laughing by the end of the documentary about the “freaks who need help”. Eric later admitted that he targeted me specifically because he was interested in “curing” a “weirdo” like me. He had a phrase for it too. “I’ll turn you Epper-sexual”. He intended, from the start, to “cure” me.

I’m lucky to have been set free from the relationship, even though it was only because he found a 13-year-old lesbian to “turn eppersexual”.

A month after being let go, I met a stunningly beautiful girl. I’ll call her M. She was incredibly effeminate and reserved and had long, brown, curly hair and freckles. I was smitten. Only being a month away from the abuse, I was in a very vulnerable position and asked her to be my girlfriend. Initially, she was okay with “taking it slow”, but eventually she confessed that she really wanted to have sex with me. Afraid that I would be discounted as a “fake bisexual”, I got incredibly drunk (I became severely alcoholic, but that’s another article) and satisfied her as best I could. It was fine at the time, but the aftermath is why seeing her on campus to this day tears my heart.

We broke up because I was way too traumatized by my abuse to hold together a relationship, and drinking and using all day forced me to drop out of college. We initially had planned to stay friends, until a mutual friend of ours broke up with their girlfriend because she was pressuring them to have sex with her, and they were asexual. They felt it better to break it off than to leave them wanting.

“If you’re asexual, you really need to give that up if you really want to satisfy your partner!” she said. “I mean, Ren did it!”

I called her out for that comment, and we haven’t spoken since.

I’m just one asexual out of millions. The fact that countless others can attest to having dated Ms and Erics should speak volumes- after all, the personal is the political. That is to say, I’m not an isolated case. What happened to me was bred from a culture that, at its core, devalues asexuality. I can only hope that M’s learned better since, but I know for a fact that Eric continues to be on the hunt for kids like who I was.

A Positive Note

That last section was totally trauma central so I’m going to end on a positive note.

To keep what happened to me from happening to others, we need a cultural shift. Rather than attempting to quantify how bad acephobia is compared to transphobia and homophobia etc, we need to realize that every human has an intersectional experience. It’s not a matter that an asexual biromantic black woman is oppressed more than a disabled autistic gay trans man- people living in intersections experience overlaps and magnifications of oppression in such complexities that to state something as over-arching as “any black person is more oppressed than any trans person” is not only devaluing but too simplistic to account for personal experiences. Instead, it would be more accurate to say that the woman and man mentioned earlier experience different disadvantages in society, not more or less.

Not one asexual person is demanding that all allosexual folks stay quiet on their experiences being involved in other intersections of oppression. All we’re asking is a place at the table and a room to feel safe in.

I hope that this article was able to provide positive insight regarding the discourse. Let me know if you have any other questions!

As always, remember- progress > perfection.

#asexuality #asexual discourse #corrective rape #acephobia #allosexual

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