#if sebastian served this to me id say no thank you

[dante-redgravee]

Trying to live out my ciel phantomhive kinnie dreams by having milk and honey for the first time.

I did not like it.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

ok so the new pics of our boys have made me simultaneously freak out and wish i was there. obviously this has sparked thoughts, mainly bc there most definitely needs to be a subastian comeback after seeing chris place those not-so-slick lingering touches all over seb’s back.

(this is so long cos i got carried away but will not be apologising😭😭)

the way seb feels nervous as he finishes being photographed and starts up the street, cameras everywhere and waiting for him to do something worthy of publishing. he walks up to the place where all of kevin’s guests are waiting and… there he is. chris. standing beside another man seb doesnt recognise but cant care about because look. chris has decided apparently that he wants to torment sebastian by showing up wearing one of his signature tight shirts. it stretches across his chest perfectly, squeezing at the meat of his biceps and making them bulge obscenely out of the sleeves. seb cant stop staring, even as he excuses himself to get through the crowd of people blocking his path to chris.

he gravitates towards the older man, not stopping until they’re within touching distance and even then, sebastian is unable to stop staring at the sharp cut of chris’ jaw and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. a few seconds go by until chris notices hes there, and he turns to sebastian with such warmth in his eyes that seb isnt sure what to do with himself.

“seb! you made it,” he says, that low voice of his washing over sebastian as he nods and allows chris to get in his space, “im so glad to see you.”

its been a while since they last saw each other in person, and yet the pavlovian response sebs body has to even the slightest bit of praise from chris comes back in full force. he smiles widely, a deep blush coloring his cheeks when chris places a large hand on the small of his back. the touch makes sebastian shiver and he hangs on to whatever chris is saying, introducing seb to the other man even though his name goes in one ear and out of the other. sebastians brain is too busy trying not to melt out of his ears as chris slides his hand across to his hip and then lower down his back.

“you guys havent met before, have you?” chris is saying, and sebastian shakes his head, subconsciously leaning into the touch he has missed for the better part of a year (since they filmed ghosted together). the thrill of knowing the things he used to let chris do to him behind closed doors is making sebs head feel foggy as he tries his best to engage in the conversation. fortunately, chris does most of the talking for him, another thing seb appreciates because it just goes to show how well chris really knows him.

until everyone is told to take their seats, chris doesnt remove his hand from sebastians back and it drives him crazy. the fleeting touch would be innocent if not for the past nights that had started with a polite hand on sebs back and ended with one fisted in his hair. and it doesnt help sebastian to relax when chris keeps stealing in depth glances at him out of the corner of his eye - it only serves to make seb want to meet that gaze in the hopes that its as hungry as he remembers it to be.

chris leads him towards their chairs when the conversation ends. they sit down, an empty chair labelled ‘chris pratt’ placed between their seats. chris takes the time to lean over and catch sebs attention.

“you cut your hair,” he murmurs into sebastians ear, “i like it.”

“thank you, chris,” seb replies, ever polite just how chris taught him, blushing furiously under the praise. he wants too many things at once - for chris to reach out and touch him, anywhere or everywhere, sebastian doesnt care.

“you’re welcome, sweetheart,” says chris, and the nickname makes sebs stomach flip, “though, it is a lot shorter than it used to be. less to pull on, in my opinion.”

sebastian couldnt feel more cornered if he tried, despite being in the middle of a crowd of actors who all have no ided what is manifesting between him and chris in this moment. sebastian blinks and suddenly, another man is taking up the space between him and chris; chris pratt. he grins at the two of them and strikes up and comversation with sebastian’s chris. seb inwardly grumbles but is partially grateful for the interruption - he isnt sure what he might have done if chris kept looking at him like that. hungry. wanting. like, if he could, he was seconds from leading seb away from the group and pushing him up against a wall somewhere.

inevitably, after another round of photos and festering sexual tension, thats exactly what ends up happening. with the paps having taken all the photos they need and their cameras being put away, chris takes the opportunity to gently nudge sebastian towards a theatre of some kind nearby and into one of the single bathrooms around the corner.

the moment the door locks, neither of them can keep their hands off each other. its been so long without any time alone, months since seb has felt the way chris touches his body like he owns it and makes sebastian ache like he never has before. the two of them are all heavy breathing and sloppy kisses and eager hands, untucking shirts and unbuttoning pants.

its animal, the kind of hunger that latches onto sebastians gut and tugs, making him press chris into the door and line up their bodies so he can get one of chris’ thick thighs between his own and use it to give himself some relief.

“fuck, i missed you, sweetheart,” chris whispers, letting his hands find their way into sebastians hair, “you’ve been on my mind for months.”

“you thought about me?” seb asks breathlessly, not because he doesnt believe chris but because hearing how much chris wanted him might be enough to get him off.

“of course i did,” chris says, pushing his thigh into sebastians erection and eliciting a wanton moan from the younger mans mouth, “ive been waiting to get my hands on you for as long as we’ve been apart. you have no idea the things i want to do to you - you’re the prettiest thing ive ever seen and ive wanted to show you just how much i want you for months.”

chris continues with his sweet words until seb is making embarrassingly pathetic noises into the crook of chris’ neck, biting and licking at it in between gentle whimpers and desperate whines.

“are you close already, baby? are you gonna use me and make yourself come?”

seb nods weakly, his breath catching in his throat as he grinds against chris’ thigh with irregular movements and chases his pleasure.

“make a mess for me, sweetheart, thats a good boy…”

chris’ encouragement is what does seb in, in the end. he comes in his fucking underwear like a teenager, pressing his fingers into every part of chris’ body that he can reach and pulling him in as closely as he can.

when this is over, theyll talk some more, maybe arrange to get coffee together since theyre both currently in the same city. chris will invite sebastian over to his hotel and seb will pretend he isnt vibrating at the prospect of having an actual bed for chris to take him apart on. but in the meantime, seb needs to calm down, get his legs working again, and tell chris just how much he enjoyed this.

oh. and figure out a way to clean up his pants…

- ok thanks for reading this mess i just let the thoughts flow and they would not stop😅

related to pictures from Chris and Seb being together at the Hollywood Wa/k Of Fame ceremony for kevin Feige

Yeah! If I couldn't've been there, then I'm so fucking glad we got so much footage and so many angles of it! Every single one makes me stare at my phone like an idiot.

The "not-so-slick" touches... yeah 😮‍💨😮‍💨 we all KNOW that Chris being handsy makes poor Sebastian feel some kind of way.

(No! Do not apologize!! I am always here for the length 😏)

Exactly! The tight shirt! Evans, HOW COULD YOU. I love this description of Chris, too 🤤🤤 Anyone would stop dead in their tracks, no matter the amount of famous foot traffic behind them, lol

"Touching distance" is so visceral!! I love!

The sweetness of Chris underlaid with Seb's trained response to it 😏 I love it and the casual possessive touching, too. Get it, Seb! Let that name go in one ear and out the other 💀💀

The lean in! The fogginess!! Yes!

"until everyone is told to take their seats, chris doesnt remove his hand from sebastians back and it drives him crazy. the fleeting touch would be innocent if not for the past nights that had started with a polite hand on sebs back and ended with one fisted in his hair. and it doesnt help sebastian to relax when chris keeps stealing in depth glances at him out of the corner of his eye - it only serves to make seb want to meet that gaze in the hopes that its as hungry as he remembers it to be."

That whole fucking paragraph. Just. Yeah. 😮‍💨🥴

The way Chris taught him? 👀 Oh? I would like to know more?

Cock block Pratt, how dare he, lmao. But Seb's right with that... there would've been shit going down not appropriate for the public if something hadn't stopped them. Oh, if only 😈

YES! GET IT! GET THEM AWAY FROM THOSE CROWDS!

"its animal, the kind of hunger that latches onto sebastians gut and tugs, making him press chris into the door and line up their bodies so he can get one of chris’ thick thighs between his own and use it to give himself some relief."

I. Yeah. Yup. That's hot.

Of course, Seb likes hearing Chris say it 😏

“are you close already, baby? are you gonna use me and make yourself come?”

I. WILL. DIE.

Me and so will Sebastian when he has to do the walk of shame out of that bathroom. Sorry, boys, but I kind of hope the paps get pictures of that, too ��

In conclusion:

I love this whole fucking scene for them, the mounting tension between them with this whole event as build up, the cutting loose so soon after the event, and the tease at more...

Goddamn.

Thank you for this. I will now read it again and picture more about how they look in that fucking bathroom stall because. Yeah.

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Crush

The reader is an actress and meets Sebastian at a wrap party. Fortunately, they both have something in common; they have a crush on each other. 

-

           You woke up to the sound of your roommate and co-star, Tom, walking into the apartment you were sharing. You’d spent most of the day moping because you’d finally wrapped all of your scenes for Far From Home, and you were missing it already. You didn’t have many scenes with him, but Jake was the definition of crazy and you could have used some of that. Tom was already your best friend, and your roommate, so you always saw enough of him. And tonight was maybe the last time you were going to see everyone together; it was the wrap party and you weren’t sure you could even fit into your dress because you were so bloated from eating ice cream all day.

           “What’s wrong with you?” Tom asked, looking you up and down. You shrugged, looking over at the pint of ice cream and bowl of popcorn you’d left sitting on the coffee table.

           “Just moping,” you responded.

           “Well, stop. Get ready for the party and we can pregame.” You scoffed. You didn’t usually drink copious amounts of alcohol, but maybe tonight was the night. “Please? I don’t want to be the drunk one.”

           “Whatever,” you responded as you sat up. You cleaned up your mess before taking a shower, doing your hair and makeup, and getting into your dress. It was a little slutty, but you had been feeling confident when you got it because you were training at that point. You looked damn good in it, too, and there was one person you had your eyes on. Sebastian Stan, the guy who played Bucky. You’d met him a few times, but only in passing. You’d never had a conversation with him, but from everything you’d heard he was sweet. You were probably sweet to him, just a kid, but if you said you didn’t like him, you’d be lying. You had a hard crush on him, and while Tom had figured it out and insisted you ask him out, you’d refused. You didn’t know him, first of all. There was no way he would go out with someone so young. That, and your best friend was Tom. He was all but a brother, and contrary to popular belief he could be intimidating to anyone who got you home too late at night.

           “Ow!” Tom marveled as you walked out. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Thank God, you look amazing.”

           “You’re supposed to tell me I’m always pretty,” you frowned.

           “You’re always pretty. Now come on, let’s go.” You grabbed your fully charged phone, your purse, and walked out of the apartment with Tom. He dragged you to two liquor stores before finding what he wanted, and then you Ubered over to Jake’s house. It was eccentric, to say the least. Like him. He was cool, though. You loved having him around.

           You drank the least out of both of them, worried about throwing up because of course Tom had to get tequila, and just sat back and laughed as they were their stupid selves. Finally the alarm on Jake’s phone sounded and another car picked you up to head over to the venue. You vaguely recognized some of the other actors, never really having met them since you weren’t in the other films. You finally saw Sebastian, standing with Anthony, and tried to come up with a reason to talk to him. You must have watched him for two or three minutes out of the corner of your eye before you saw him go up to the bar, probably to get more drinks.

           “Oh, can you get me one?” Tom asked when you muttered that you were going.

           “I’m going to shoot my shot, but maybe on the way back, big guy.” You pat his shoulder and walked toward the bar, ID in hand. You looked like a high schooler to anyone that knew you from movies, because you often played them. But with real makeup on you turned your actual age, and you could only hope that was going to serve you well tonight.

           “Oh, hey!” Sebastian said to you as you walked up to the bar, taking a seat at the counter. “You’re playing MJ, right?”

           “Yeah,” you responded with a smile. “I promise I’m old enough to drink.” He chuckled.

           “I believe you. I’m not so sure these guys will, though. I’m Sebastian, by the way. I played Bucky, with the hair.”

           “Didn’t recognize you without the fake arm and the face mask,” you said. “I, Tonya was a fucking masterpiece. By the way.”

           “That mustache never looked good on me, I don’t think. But it was such a good thing to work on, especially after doing all of these action movies. It was really fun.”

           “Oh, definitely. I’m doing an indie movie this summer and I can not wait to get a break from the action.” You continued a quick conversation until the bartender pulled you out of it, asking for your drink order. You went with a vodka cranberry, your usual, and noticed that Sebastian only got one beer for himself.

           “I’ll tell you what, I hate these things sometimes,” Sebastian said as he watched a room full of people that were only familiar to those who worked on the movie would know. “It’s like, thanks for inviting me, I know three people. Not that I’m not grateful, but…”

           “I know what you mean,” you interrupted. “I spent half the afternoon pre-gaming with Tom and Jake and I kind of just want to go to Waffle House and go to bed.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

           “That’s a thing? People in Atlanta actually, like, go to Waffle House?” You actually laughed out loud at that one.

           “Duh! I grew up in Florida and they’re definitely the best drunk food around. I was so sad when I moved to New York and couldn’t get any.” 

           Long story short, you and Sebastian talked most of the night. You even did shots together when Robert offered to pay for one for everyone. You spoke to Tom for a minute as he was getting another drink, but he saw you with Sebastian and excused himself back to where he was talking with Jacob and Harrison.

           “I thought they’d have more food,” Sebastian said quietly after a second of silence. “I’m half drunk and starving. This might be weird to ask, but do you want to go to Waffle House?” In ten minutes you’d both left the party and were on the way to get the best drunk food there could possibly be. You sat down in a corner booth that you and Tom often sat in on nights when you were just too excited to film the next day and couldn’t sleep.

           “I have to confess something,” Sebastian said as he was destroying a plate of hash browns a few minutes later. You looked up at him, stopping pouring the syrup all over your waffle. “I thought you were intimidating. Until I talked to you.”

           “That’s what everyone says! I don’t understand why because I literally look like a child.” He laughed.

           “No, you’re gorgeous. You just look like you could kill someone if they look at you the wrong way. And I respect that. You’re cool.”

           “Then I have something to confess.” Maybe it was the vodka and the tequila making decisions for you, but you were going to shoot your shot. If it ended up that he thought it was dumb, you could just turn it into a joke and take a bite of your waffle.

           “What might that be?” He wiped his hands on a napkin and waited. You looked away for a second, seeing a text on your phone from Tom asking where the hell you were.

           “I kind of have, like, a massive crush on you. It’s literally the dumbest thing ever, I’m twelve.” You drank a sip of water, waiting for an answer. Instead you got a grin from Sebastian. Those stupid, perfect lips were turned into a smile and his face was slightly flushed because he was still a little buzzed and he looked absolutely adorable.

           “It’s not dumb. I think I might have a crush on you, too. This doesn’t count as a first date, though, does it?”

           “It’s Waffle House, it’s basically a five star restaurant.” He sat back on the bench, thinking about something, and then responded. “Are you sure you want someone who can barely drink legally, though?”

           “You’re cool, that’s all I care about. You’re pretty and funny and I have a massive crush on you.” He turned your own words against you, and you couldn’t help but smile. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

           “Nothing,” you responded.

           “Then, if that’s okay with you, I’d like to put this crush to the test and take you out.”

           “I’d like that.” You looked down at your food and continued eating, glad that you’d finally told him you liked him. You couldn’t have imagined your night ending that way, but it did. Once Sebastian begged you to let him pay for the food he had sobered up enough to go back to the venue and get his car.

           “I can get an Uber, you really don’t have to drive all the way across town.”

           “I want to,” he replied with a smile on his face. So you got in and he drove you home. You groaned at the sight of a light still on in the apartment, knowing that Tom was about to grill you about where you’d been and why you’d abandoned him. “I’ll walk you up. It’s dark.”

           “Thanks.” He opened your door for you and let you lead him down to the apartment, where you stopped at the lobby. “I literally don’t even have your phone number.”

           “Oh, you’re right, hold on.” In a minute he’d Airdropped you his phone number and sent you a text just to make sure it went through. “I’ll text you. God, that sounds so lame. Is that what kids these days say?”

           “Yeah, pretty much. Thanks for walking me back up. Drive safe.”

           “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You were in absolute heaven when you turned around and walked into the lobby of the apartment, and just to make sure he was okay you watched him walk back to his car. He drove away a minute later and you turned to go to the elevator.

           “Where have you been?” Tom asked loudly, as soon as you walked into the apartment. “I was freaking out! Your location just said you were at Waffle House, but you didn’t respond, so I thought your phone got stolen or you died or…” He was definitely still half-drunk, you decided, when he stumbled over his words and his voice broke.

           “I was with Sebastian,” you explained. Tom smiled.

           “So you told him about…”

           “Yep. I told him I have a crush on him and he said the same thing. We’re going out tomorrow night.”

           “That’s my girl!” Tom high-fived you and giggled his way through the rest of the night. As you turned to your phone, you saw it light up with a text from Sebastian.

           Pick you up tomorrow at 7??

           Definitely.

A/N: I loved writing this one so I hope you like it too!!! A date with Seb would be 🥺🥺

[sporadic-writer]

Secret’s Out

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: my usual, swearing and such, if you don’t like something stop reading lol

Summary: with close friends secrets come out one way or another. this is about the couple times you and Sebastian almost got caught, and the one time you did (sorry I’m bad at summaries)

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

Let’s be honest, secret relationships are cliche. Despite this, in your situation it was necessary and honestly quite exciting. As your back hit the bathroom mirror of Elizabeth’s apartment, you were enjoying the excitement. Sebastian’s hand’s were everywhere as your’s were at his shoulders and hair. You two were nearly a month into this relationship and you were loving it. However, there is a bit of an age gap between you guys, so he wanted to keep it a secret for your benefit. It sucked and was a struggle at first, but you completely understood and soon got used to it. After a while it got fun to mess with each other in public. Hence why you were in a the bathroom. You wore the top you knew he loved and made sure to be a little more flirty than usual, but still being discrete. Your perfume lingered in the air and he eventually couldn’t take it. He walked off while you talked and then your phone chimed for you to come to the bathroom.

Breathlessly you spoke to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this in here any you know it. Someone could hear or walk in.”

“Come on that’s never stopped us before. And they are all occupied. We will be out before they even notice.” While he spoke his lips never left your neck. He groaned when you pulled back and lightly pushed him away.

“We can continue this tonight back at your place. I don’t want to push our luck. Not to mention Mackie I feel has been getting suspicious.” Hopping down you fixed your clothes and hair. He watched you and looked at you as if you said that pigs could fly.

“That man has no clue. For one of my best friends, he is an idiot about my dating life. Sweetheart if I thought he was onto us and blab his mouth I’d tell you. Now let’s go. Whatever food is being served smells fantastic.” He opened the door and checked if anyone was nearby. When the coast was clear he shoved you out and smacked your ass. You glared and he just winked. Soon you walked back.

Liz looked at you both. “Where did you guys go off to?”

At the same time you said bathroom and he said taking a phone call.  Everyone went about their business and you all hung out. It wasn’t until Mackie spoke that you got nervous for a second.

“Um what do we have here? Does young Y/N have a hickey?” You tried not to blush or look at your boyfriend.

“No idea what you’re talking about dude. And I’m 23, not that young.” Pushing your hair over your neck you sipped your drink. In your head you were setting Sebastian, who was silent across the room, on fire.

Mackie and the others laughed lightly and he spoke about it one more time. “Shucks you’re blushing. Well next time you get lucky, grab a cold spoon or some makeup after so I don’t have a fun time and embarrass you.”

Getting home you made sure to give him shit for the hickey, return the favor, and making sure all hickeys were in hidden places.

--------

While out for drinks with Chris Pratt, Scarlett, and a couple other mutual friends you didn’t totally know, you enjoyed the down time. Chis and Sebastian were across from you and Scarlett. You and your man had been texting each other all flirty like the whole time. Now that everyone was a few drinks in things were relaxed and fun. Conversation flowed easily. Deciding to have some fun, you tried to nudge Sebastian’s foot with your own. Nothing happened in response. Trying to gain his attention, you casually ate a french fry while grazing his ankle. Still nothing. He didn’t even text you or look your way.

“Umm Y/N is that your foot?” Chris looked at you and you nearly joked on your fry.

Looking to him you tried to play it off. “God I thought my foot was hitting a leg of the table or a chair or something. I am so sorry. My foot itched and I didn’t realize that was you.” Hopefully you sounded as convincing as you thought you did. Sebastian just lightly smirked down while sipping his whiskey. Luckily Chris brushed it off and you didn’t catch a friend next to Scarlett looking between you and Sebastian. The feel of your phone vibrating on the table made you look away from the others.

‘Nice one babe lol real smooth’

‘Shut the fuck up.. i thought it was you!’

‘Well shit id hope so. Next time go up Scarlett’s leg, itd be hotter ;)’

He knew you wouldn’t respond. You stifled a laugh and tried to remain casual. You also knew he would enjoy using this against you for quite a while.

--------

It was around midnight. You and Sebastian were in his hotel room at the nice place Marvel set up for press events. The two of you were enjoying each other’s company, in an intimate manner to say the least. It was round three of an intense night. Being caught up in the moment, neither of you realized that maybe you were being louder than you should have been for someone in a secret relationship. Robert and Dave were coming back from a late night gym session. They slowed down a little upon hearing the noises.

“I didn’t know Sea Bass brought someone back?” RDJ thought aloud as they kept walking. Things didn’t go further til the morning.

Pom walked up to you, “Hey I went by your room last night to return your leggings, but you weren’t there. Where’d you run off to last night?”

“Hey maybe Y/N was who we heard with Stan last night. Ha sounds like a good time was happening there.” Robert was joking, and the playful glint in his eyes was prominent behind his rose shades.

Eyes went to both of you, next to each other and you leaning on his shoulder. Removing your arm you blushed, but Sebastian remained calm. 

“I ran into an old friend last night and we ended up back at my place. Thanks for the praise though.” He laughed as he spoke. He was so convincing you would have believed him if you weren’t the one with him last night.

“Congrats, you got laid. But to answer your question Pom-pom, my mom called me late last night and I took the call on the balcony. I must not have heard you knock. Sorry darlin..” You gave her an apologetic smile. She returned it and you thanked God the day went on normally.

--------

“You look hot as hell in that outfit babe.” Suddenly, the greenroom you were given for Jimmy Kimmel was quite hot.

Smirking, you turned and threaded your fingers though his hair. “Babe if you like this you should see what’s underneath. Got something new on.”

He groaned a little bit and you kissed him. “You aren’t doing anything after this right? No? Thank the lord. Keeping the outfit on, I am going to order us food from that pizza place you like, then we will see how it and what's underneath looks on my floor.”

“God you and your cheesy lines. But make it your bathroom floor, add a steamy bath, and you got yourself a deal old man.”

“What did I tell you about calling me that?” He smiled down at you and leaned down to kiss you. Meeting him in the middle, you smiled into the kiss. Next thing you knew, you both were making out in the greenroom.

The door suddenly opened. “Y/N come watch the monologue- OH SHIT I KNEW IT!” Pratt’s face was like he discovered oil. “I knew it I knew it!”

“Tell the public and you’re dead.” Your words were stern. “The others will probably know seconds from now so fuck it. We can at least stop being secret with our friends and stuff right?” You looked to the man who still had his arms around you. He nodded and shrugged, going along with it.

“Makes hanging out a lot easier.”

“So Y/N was who you were with when Dave and Robert heard you? Niiiiceeee.” While walking out the door, the two of you smacked him to shut it. The secret was out, you could do things together now, like smacking your friend for being a dumb ass.

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

Hope you enjoyed. Like and reblog my friends!

[ontherockswithsalt]

A Made Man

/1/ /2/ /3/ /4/ /5/ /6/ /7/ /8/ /9/ /10/ /11/ /12/ /13/ /14/ /15/ /16/ /17/ /18/

Chapter 19.

“It’s Terminator!”

“It's Terminator 2,” Noble mutters, glancing overhead at the oversized television screen in the corner of the bar.

“No, dude.” His friend Andrew -- the groom-to-be in this group -- insists across the pub table from us. The loud rendition of the Beastie Boys’ Hey Ladies plays over the one minute window of time each trivia team in the bar has to answer the question: What was the first Arnold Schwarzenegger movie to win four Academy Awards? “Terminator 2?” Andrew disputes. “Fuck no. It's never a sequel.”

“Terminator 2 is like, the known superior Terminator,” Noble argues.

“You guys,” Sebastian cuts in, another guy in our group. “It's Jingle All The Way.”

“It's Kindergarten Cop!”

“Oh my god,” Noble complains, shaking his head at me as I can't help but laugh at the idiotic suggestions from his friends. “Fucking write something.”

“It's kind of hard to top the original though,” I offer.

“Exactly,” Andrew points his pen at me. “See? He's a lawyer, he knows.”

“But that's not the question,” I reason. “The question’s about awards, not which one you feel is a classic.”

Noble's friend glances down to start scribbling. “You guys are clowns. It's Terminator.” Then he stands up and takes his slip of paper with the answer up to the deejay who stands in front of the TVs.

Amused, I reach for my beer and shake my head. When Noble -- who is strictly Nick tonight -- told me we were bound for a bachelor party, sitting with four other guys in a mundane sports bar playing pub trivia is not what I expected, especially considering Noble's usual knack for finding trouble. But it was entertaining enough and I wasn't exactly interested in waiting in a long line outside some insufferable club.

The music fades as the deejay pipes up, “Allll-right. What was the first Arnold Schwarzenegger movie to win four Academy Awards? Believe it or not, it was Terminator 2: Judgment Day--”

“What?!” Shouts an incredulous Andrew and Noble tips his head back with a dramatic eyeroll.

“You're fired,” Noble announces, reaching over to steal the pen.

“The category is sports,” the deejay calls out as he goes to his laptop and clicks to the next question on the screen to display on the television. “In boxing, who is the youngest, undisputed heavyweight champion of all time?”

As he draws out the last word of the question like a typical radio announcer, the opening of Santeria by Sublime settles over the bar.

I tilt over to Noble. “It's Mike Tyson.”

His pen stalls as he lifts his gaze to me. “It's Muhammad Ali.”

I reach over and pull the pen from his hand before I lean in to write what I know is the correct answer on the small piece of paper.

“Dude,” he calls out, dismayed with hands spread as I push my chair back.

I glance back at him over my shoulder with a smirk. “I'm right.”

“You better be right, Jamie,” Sebastian scoffs as he turns to survey the bar. “Because I'm about to forfeit and order some shots.”

“Shots are a good idea either way,” Noble decides.

When I return, I don't miss the chance to lay a firm hand on his shoulder and I give it a rough squeeze.

He clears his throat and adjusts in his chair. “Are we winning?”

“No.” I chuckle, settling in beside him. “But I know my boxing titles.”

“Well I know Schwarzenegger movies,” he announces to the table, pointing his beer bottle at Andrew before he intentionally gets louder -- “but nobody listens to me!”

Already it takes considerable effort not to respond to that the same way I would in private so I just let the curve of a smile tease my mouth before I hide it with my beer.

“Allll-right--” The deejay cuts in, the way he does every time he's about to declare the answer, the music fading. “In boxing, who is the youngest, undisputed heavyweight champion of all time?” He recites. “The answer was Mike. Tyson.”

Half the tables in the bar cheer for themselves while I tilt my head to give Noble a look.

He spreads his hands to answer to it. “I doubted you. What was I thinking?”

“You should never.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh hey, was the answer six Jägerbombs?” Sebastian declares returning to the table with a bartender close behind to help carry the tray of glasses. “Because now it is. Forget the game.”

I know I grimace a little as the cocktail server sets the highball glasses in front of us. “Oh damn, seriously?”

“Are you…” Noble starts, lifting a shiny gaze to the waitress. “Legally allowed to serve us these? I'm like, ten years over the acceptable age limit for drinking Jägerbombs.”

“Ha! I dont buy it.” The blonde tilts her head with a grin, glancing to him as she distributes the shots. “You're the youngest guys in this bar anyway, so you get a pass.”

“Yeah, well--” Noble scoffs. “That's not saying much.”

“Here's a game I like--” She starts, straightening back up to rest a hand on her waist. ��Show me some ID without showing me your ID.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

“Oh I get it.” Noble nods, then eases back in his chair as if to consider it. “Let's see. How about this? The very first date I ever went on was in seventh grade,” he recounts. “--To the movies to see Mighty Ducks 2.”

My head falls back and I let out a loud laugh.

The rest of the table claps their amusement. “You sure it wasn’t Terminator 2?” Andrew teases.

“It wasn’t,” Noble laughs. “But I like sequels apparently.”

“That is hilarious,” the waitress approves. “I love it. And you're definitely too old to be ordering Jägerbombs.”

“Who was it?” I question.

“Who was who?”

“The date. Do you remember?”

“Ahh.” He smiles down at the table, his shoulders shifting a little with a bouncy chuckle before he answers. “Lisa Palermo.”

Everyone at the table hollers and entertained cackle. “Lisa Palermo!” Andrew proclaims as if he knows her, then he picks up his shot glass. “Let's cheers to Lisa Palermo.”

“What the fuck?” Noble laughs. “No, dude this night's about you. We have to toast you.”

“No,” Andrew dismisses it. “It's not like this is going to be our last shot of the night.”

“What happened to Lisa Palermo?” Sebastian cuts in. “We should call her.”

I sputter another hard laugh and slap my palm on the table. “Yeah dude, was Mighty Ducks 2 just the beginning?”

“Um, she had her friend dump me at the ice skating rink at Central Park but thanks for making me remember that pain, Jamie.”

The whole thing is cracking me up and I'm just thankful I don't have to keep a straight face around him, especially when he nudges me in the arm with his own.

“Alright. To Lisa!” Andrew calls out, raising his glass and prompting everyone else to do the same. “And Nick, her biggest regret.”

We all let go of the shot, dropping the Jägermeister into the highball glass of fizzy Red Bull. I down mine, swallowing hard before I clear away the lingering spicy sweetness in my throat. “Good god, that was a flashback.”

“Yeah dude,” Noble agrees, setting his glass down hard on the table. “I'm picking the shot next time.”

“Let's do one more round,” Sebastian suggests, pointing over his shoulder. “And then we'll roll out somewhere else.”

Pushing my chair back, I stand up. “Be right back.” Then I cross behind the table to make my way to the bathroom.

I can practically feel Noble's gaze as it trails me but I don't look back. Winding through the crowd between the pool tables, I turn down a dimly lit hallway and push into the men's room.

I'm only in there a couple minutes before the door opens while I'm at the sink.

“How about those Jägerbombs bro?” Noble teases.

“Bro--” I laugh. “Your frat brothers are pretty mellow. I expected to be plastered in a toga by now.”

“I can make that happen.”

Another guy approaches the sink beside me, washes up quickly and moves to pass through the door, leaving the two of us alone.

“I know you can.” I toss my paper towel in the trash and turn to him. “Were you in a fraternity in college? Please say yes.”

“Alpha Phi Delta at Stony Brook? Hell yeah man.” He grins. “Weren't you?”

I glance up at him, cutting a slow shake of my head. “Definitely not.”

“You should pledge.”

“Yeah?” I smile at him with a tilt of my head, unable to resist playing along. “That could be cool, I'm new on campus--”

“Ss--shit.” He hisses a tempted laugh. “Don't you dare.” Then he steps closer and his hands go to the sides of my face. “God and you question how much porn I've been watching.”

I exhale a soft laugh as he backs me up against the outside wall of the nearest stall. Tilting my head up, I accept the weight of him as he presses into me, the sly friction of his hip at the top of my thigh.

“Are there pictures?” I wonder, lifting my gaze to him, the corner of my lips curve. “Of you washing cars or playing ultimate frisbee or something?”

“You sick fucking jerk,” he whispers before his lips skate over mine. “Don't be a tease tonight.”

My heart pounds with this hot, jumpy thud considering the door just beyond Noble’s back. But I kiss him. And then I’m quick to leave his bottom lip with the slow pinch of my teeth. “Why not?”

He mumbles his answer into the side of my neck. “Because you look too damn hot, and you smell too fucking good right now.”

“Hmm.” I merely offer a scratchy hum and let my eyes close for a beat to appreciate the heat of his mouth on my skin.

Drawing in a deep inhale just at the collar of my shirt, he draws his face up to the edge of my jaw, “So I don’t think I can handle the tease.”

With a cleansing breath, I arch my neck back before I straighten up in front of him. Reaching down, I quickly flick the dark brown leather of his belt from its buckle. I see the way his lips part, his gaze flicking down, a hopeful jump of his brow just before I maneuver out from between him and the wall. “You can,” I assure him with a smirk as I head for the door. “You’ll like it.”

[vermiculated]

books 2017 finale

this is almost brief. 

december: The Lying Game - Ruth Ware Every Heart A Doorway - Seanan McGuire Saving Morgan - MB Panichi Call Me By Your Name - Andre Aciman City of Fallen Angels - Cassandra Clare City of Lost Souls - Cassandra Clare (see below) Barry Lyndon - William Thackeray Into Thin Air - John Krakauer

that was the brief part, this is the ‘almost’ part. 279 for the year, up from 188 last year. 

Why Did I Ever - Mary Robison fiction, re-read, it is a delight always. 

Binti - Nnedi Okorafor fiction, I read a couple of other interesting explorations of "what does it mean when I am more like the monster than the hero?" which is pretty astoundingly generative as a genre, this was my fave. Binti herself explores two alien cultures, and reacts in practical ways to the unexpected, which is always a delight in a heroine. Space is strange; let us not dwell on realism, it's a different real. This willingness to abandon what does not work is characteristic of young women. Young women are great sff protagonists, and young women of historically-disadvantaged backgrounds who are incontestably heroic are the greatest sff protagonists of all. 

The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage - Sydney Padua art, complex and excitingly rich alternative history, which not only explains computing history but also, at the last page, yanks at the heart of anyone who has ever yearned. The art is propulsive and antic, and the visual puns are very good. (not to be missed: the encounter with Queen Victoria!) Even I, a person who is bad at reading graphic novels, loitered over the drawings to understand them rather than reading the words and flipping the page. 

IQ - Joe Ide fiction, what Sherlock Holmes would actually be like in a modern novel. A loner in a big important city who feels that he has much to make up for, check the convincing depiction of depression, and the real nightmares who actually do fall short in the world's estimation, except that the world is too busy to notice them at all. The main thread is a fun romp, and the minor characters are so exquisite that it is almost a picaresque. I was talking about this loudly on a train, and when I and it stopped, a man came up to me and asked if I could give him the title again as he wanted to buy it. TRUE. 

Hild - Nicola Griffith fiction, on the recommendation of @inclineto This is what historical fiction should be like: it's not that this was somehow better than everything else, it was merely relevatory. Historical fiction can be about religion, power, families, war and how to card wool. (You don't have to pick if you are an inside or outside person! Girls, you can be both Thayet and Buri!) The protagonist can be cheerfully bisexual, too. It's as though all of the novels we have determinedly pretended were about gals being in love with other gals came true, and also the heroine gutted bad guys and was eventually canonized. 

Everything is Teeth - Evie Wyld and Joe Sumner art, teeth were a big theme this year (as ever) and this is the one where a) no one talks about the shameful inequalities in provision of dental care to children in the United States and b) no one fucks a fish. just letting the distinguished reader know that I have a selection process for what I read, I can see how that might not be clear. I would be delighted to talk about a) and b) mentioned here, or anything else I read this year. 

Water Dogs - Lewis Robinson fiction, re-read, always always. the person who loves novels about well-off and unusual families falling apart in opulent squalor either literal or metaphoric and maybe murder? that person is tuv. Inexplicably, no part of this was ever published in The New Yorker. 

Margaret the First - Danielle Dutton fiction, on the recommendation of @elanormcinerney  The subgenre of “garrulous historical person in his or her own words" is becoming something of a crowded field (Ruth Scurr's book on/with John Aubrey is the other best entrant, there are others) and the artistry involved in this example is particularly fulfilling. This is smart and I remembered all the stuff about science and poetry that Arts & Letters Daily is always trying to teach me. That's why to read women, among other reasons. The smarts. 

Blood in the Water - Heather Ann Thompson non-fiction, persistent mismanagement, gross racism, and inadequate communication turn out not to be the way to run an organization. This is really a masterpiece of microhistory, about the Attica Prison Uprising, and the ways in which people in power blind themselves to consequences of their actions, while the people who suffer the consequences of those actions suffer and continue to suffer.  

See Under: Love - David Grossman trans Betsy Rosenberg fiction, goes well with the Quay Brothers' "Street of Crocodiles," while we are talking about Bruno Schulz. I read parts of it in my head to the neighbors' dog. the dog understood. my voice would have shredded with sadness if I had spoken. thanks, Astro, for being there. 

Sarong Party Girls - Cheryl Lu-Lien Tan fiction, this is the novel that Kevin Kwan isn't tough enough to have written. It's about how grown-ups deal with the consequences of their actions, and also about drinking with pals. A person can be both of those things, and Jazzy is that, and more. 

Emotionally Weird - Kate Atkinson fiction, a strong taste for the picaresque, and a crystalline capture of youthful aimlessness and disorder even as it is being shaped by larger forces. Effie wanders through words and life, and I had a wonderful time with this one summer afternoon. No one else appears to have much liked this book, other people are wrong, it's funny. It is profoundly show-offy and unrelateable to play parlor games in the car, say book reviewers with terrible personalities -- sounds like someone lost a game of fives recently. (I’m very good at the game of fives, and I did not quite feel personally criticized when this book was unpopular, if only because I have my expertise at ‘name five mountaineers who did not climb Mount Everest’ to console me.)

A Line Made By Walking - Sara Baume fiction, I just really love books about depressed women acting as they see fit. 

Chemistry - Weike Wang fiction, I just really love books about depressed women acting as they see fit. 

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue - Mackenzi Lee fiction, recommended by @mysharkwillgoon see "Hild" above, books are just better when the main character solves problems and kisses everyone. This is how historical romances should be, this is what we have all received for those years of crossing our fingers under the cover of a Heyer and hoping 'maybe he'll love his best friend! maybe she'll tell her cousin what she really thinks!" and they DO. and then they escape from pirates, “The Monk,” and robbers.  

Raven Rock - Garrett Graff non-fiction, read this first and then think about how we all got from there to a study of underground bunkers and the places where some of us were going to go when the rest of us died. Offutt AFB is along the way, which only served to remind me that I have family in Nebraska and I live in fear of the day when one of them does some casual genealogy and we have to talk; "so. your state. big in the planning for our forthcoming and yet reucrring nuclear crisis, howdoes that feel? feels powerful and also sickening, yeah? anyway, your great-aunt's ashes aren't scattered in the Lincoln Tunnel, but we thought about it."  

The Art of Charlie Chan Hock Chye - Sonny Liew art, here is what we are up against. The theme this year appears to have been "weeping at what could have been." This is a first rate textbook, and a cunning subversion of the whole notion of textbooks. I learned a great deal from this; had I learned nothing, my eye would still have wandered along, marvelling at the layout. There are several overlapping stories about narrative, success, and Singaporean history, yet the metatextuality (horrible word, apologies) is never confrontational. Which is truly a pleasure. 

The Story of a Brief Marriage - Anuk Arudpragasam fiction, this is the book I've been telling everyone about as my fave book on the year. Only the most literary of adjectives will suffice: brutal, lyrical, lambent, noctilucent, I'm just typing words. 

The Unwomanly Face of War - Sveltana Alexievich trans Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky non-fiction, more incisive than more recent collections, and in a shimmering translation. Pevear and Volokhonsky have tossed words out like diamonds on black velvet. The rare wartime history that is more appealing without a map. 

City of Lost Souls - Cassandra Clare oh give me a fucking break, Jonathan nee Sebastian brainwashed Jace nee whatever while they were in the magical flying Gormenghast pied a terre, they absolutely schtupped. 

[hillburn42-blog]

21 modern poems that make swoon-worthy wedding readings

Litany By Billy Collins print from Graphic Display

Finding the right wedding readings for your ceremony can be a bear if you don't know where to look. This is especially so if you're diverting from traditional and/or religious readings and want something more modern, secular, funny, or all of the above. I wanted to see what was cooking in modern poetry to see if there were some new poems that would make amazing wedding readings that we hadn't seen before. Spoiler alert: there were! Some are secular, some are funny, some are a little older, but all are lovely options that may just be the one that pulls at your heartstrings.

Here are some poignant and modern wedding readings from poetry to snag for your ceremony.

Hit up our full archive of ceremony readings for even more inspiration!

You are the bread and the knife, the crystal goblet and the wine. You are the dew on the morning grass and the burning wheel of the sun. You are the white apron of the baker, and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard, the plums on the counter, or the house of cards. And you are certainly not the pine-scented air. There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge, maybe even the pigeon on the general's head, but you are not even close to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show that you are neither the boots in the corner nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know, speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world, that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star, the evening paper blowing down an alley and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees and the blind woman's tea cup. But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife. You are still the bread and the knife. You will always be the bread and the knife, not to mention the crystal goblet and — somehow — the wine.

Love means to learn to look at yourself The way one looks at distant things For you are only one thing among many. And whoever sees that way heals his heart, Without knowing it, from various ills A bird and a tree say to him: Friend. Then he wants to use himself and things So that they stand in the glow of ripeness. It doesnt matter whether he knows what he serves: Who serves best doesnt always understand.

Do not think I am not grateful for your small kindness to me.

I like small kindnesses.

In fact I actually prefer them to the more substantial kindness, that is always eyeing you,

like a large animal on a rug, until your whole life reduces

to nothing but waking up morning after morning cramped, and the bright sun shining on its tusks.

I lie here thinking of you:—

the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves, smears with saffron the horned branches that lean heavily against a smooth purple sky! There is no light only a honey-thick stain that drips from leaf to leaf and limb to limb spoiling the colors of the whole world—

you far off there under the wine-red selvage of the west!

Don't lock me in wedlock, I want marriage, an encounter—

I told you about the green light of May

(a veil of quiet befallen the downtown park, late

Saturday after noon, long shadows and cool

air, scent of new grass, fresh leaves,

blossom on the threshold of abundance—

and the birds I met there, birds of passage breaking their journey, three birds each of a different species:

the azalea-breasted with round poll, dark, the brindled, merry, mousegliding one, and the smallest, golden as gorse and wearing a black Venetian mask

and with them the three douce hen-birds feathered in tender, lively brown—

I stood a half-hour under the enchantment, no-one passed near, the birds saw me and

let me be near them.)

It's not irrelevant: I would be met

and meet you so, in a green

airy space, not locked in.

"Having a Coke with You" by Frank O'Hara

is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt partly because of the fluoresent orange tulips around the birches partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary it is hard to believe when I'm with you that there can be anything as still as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it in the warm New York 4 o'clock light we are drifting back and forth between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them

I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it's in the Frick which thank heavens you haven't gone to yet so we can go together the first time and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn't pick the rider as carefully as the horse it seems they were all cheated of some marvellous experience which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it

Margaret Atwood poem 'Habitation' in hand-written calligraphy from Paint And Words

Marriage is not a house, or even a tent

It is before that, and colder:

the edge of the forest, the edge of the desert the unpainted stairs at the back, where we squat outdoors, eating popcorn where painfully and with wonder at having survived this far

we are learning to make fire.

"Why Marriage?" by Mari Nichols-Haining

Because to the depths of me, I long to love one person, With all my heart, my soul, my mind, my body…

Because I need a forever friend to trust with the intimacies of me, Who won’t hold them against me, Who loves me when I’m unlikable, Who sees the small child in me, and Who looks for the divine potential of me…

Because I need to cuddle in the warmth of the night With someone who thanks God for me, With someone I feel blessed to hold…

Because marriage means opportunity To grow in love in friendship…

Because marriage is a discipline To be added to a list of achievements…

Because marriages do not fail, people fail When they enter into marriage Expecting another to make them whole…

Because, knowing this, I promise myself to take full responsibility For my spiritual, mental and physical wholeness I create me, I take half of the responsibility for my marriage Together we create our marriage…

Because with this understanding The possibilities are limitless.

Here on an autumn night in the sweet orchard smell, Sitting in a pile of leaves under the starry sky, Oh what stories we could tell With this starlight to tell them by.

October night, and you, and paradise, So lovely and so full of grace, Above your head, the universe has hung its lights, And I reach out my hand to touch your face.

I believe in impulse, in all that is green, Believe in the foolish vision that comes true, Believe that all that is essential is unseen, And for this lifetime I believe in you.

All of the lovers and the love they made: Nothing that was between them was a mistake. All that we did for love's sake, Is not wasted and will never fade.

All who have loved shall be forever young And walk in grandeur on a cool fall night Along the avenue, They live in every song that is ever sung, In every painting of pure light, In every pas de deux.

Oh love that shines in every star And love reflected in the silver moon. It is not here, but it's not far. Not yet, but it will be here soon.

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument. Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don't go back to sleep. You must ask for what you really want. Don't go back to sleep. People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch. The door is round and open. Don't go back to sleep.

I would love to kiss you. The price of kissing is your life. Now my loving is running toward my life shouting, What a bargain, let's buy it.

Daylight, full of small dancing particles and the one great turning, our souls are dancing with you, without feet, they dance. Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?

All day and night, music, a quiet, bright reedsong. If it fades, we fade.

If you want to marry me, here's what you'll have to do: You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew. And you must sew my holey socks, And soothe my troubled mind, And develop the knack for scratching my back, And keep my shoes spotlessly shined. And while I rest you must rake up the leaves, And when it is hailing and snowing You must shovel the walk…and be still when I talk, And — hey — where are you going?

You are your own forerunner, and the towers you have builded are but the foundation of your giant-self. And that self too shall be a foundation.

And I too am my own forerunner, for the long shadow stretching before me at sunrise shall gather under my feet at the noon hour. Yet another sunrise shall lay another shadow before me, and that also shall be gathered at another noon.

Always have we been our own forerunners, and always shall we be. And all that we have gathered and shall gather shall be but seeds for fields yet unploughed. We are the fields and the ploughmen, the gatherers and the gathered.

When you were a wandering desire in the mist, I too was there, a wandering desire. Then we sought one another, and out of our eagerness dreams were born. And dreams were time limitless, and dreams were space without measure.

And when you were a silent word upon life's quivering lips, I too was there, another silent word. Then life uttered us and we came down the years throbbing with memories of yesterday and with longing for tomorrow, for yesterday was death conquered and tomorrow was birth pursued.

And now we are in God's hands. You are a sun in His right hand and I an earth in His left hand. Yet you are not more, shining, than I, shone upon.

And we, sun and earth, are but the beginning of a greater sun and a greater earth. And always shall we be the beginning.

You are your own forerunner, you the stranger passing by the gate of my garden. And I too am my own forerunner, though I sit in the shadows of my trees and seem motionless.

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

From time to time our love is like a sail and when the sail begins to alternate from tack to tack, it’s like a swallowtail and when the swallow flies it’s like a coat; and if the coat is yours, it has a tear like a wide mouth and when the mouth begins to draw the wind, it’s like a trumpeter and when the trumpet blows, it blows like millions…. and this, my love, when millions come and go beyond the need of us, is like a trick; and when the trick begins, it’s like a toe tip-toeing on a rope, which is like luck; and when the luck begins, it’s like a wedding, which is like love, which is like everything.

"Today" from Nine Horses by Billy Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect, so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage, indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out, holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white, well, today is just that kind of day.

Pablo Neruda Quote from Monday Moon Design

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way

than this: Where “I” does not exist, nor “You”, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

"somewhere I have never travelled" by e.e. cummings

somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing

(I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Maya Angelou Poem print from Minimaland

"Touched by an Angel" by Maya Angelou

We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of loneliness until love leaves its high holy temple and comes into our sight to liberate us into life.

Love arrives and in its train come ecstasies old memories of pleasure ancient histories of pain. Yet if we are bold, love strikes away the chains of fear from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity In the flush of love’s light we dare be brave And suddenly we see that love costs all we are and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free.

let me be your vacuum cleaner breathing in your dust let me be your ford cortina I will never rust if you like your coffee hot let me be your coffee pot you call the shots I wanna be yours

let me be your raincoat for those frequent rainy days let me be your dreamboat when you wanna sail away let me be your teddy bear take me with you anywhere I don’t care I wanna be yours

let me be your electric meter I will not run out let me be the electric heater you get cold without let me be your setting lotion hold your hair with deep devotion deep as the deep atlantic ocean thats how deep is my emotion deep deep deep deep deep deep I don’t wanna be hers I wanna be yours

"In Love Made Visible" by May Swenson

In love we are made visible As in a magic bath are unpeeled to the sharp pit so long concealed

With love’s alertness we recognize the soundless whimper of the soul behind the eyes A shaft opens and the timid thing at last leaps to surface with full-spread wing

The fingertips of lover discover more than the body’s smoothness They uncover a hidden conduit for the transfusion of empathies that circumvent the mind’s intrusion

In love are we set free Objective bone and flesh no longer insulate us to ourselves alone We are released and flow into each other’s cup Our two frail vials pierced drink each other up.

Roy Croft print by Betty And Marie Designs

I love you, Not only for what you are But for what I am When I am with you.

I love you, Not only for what You have made of yourself But for what You are making of me.

I love you, For the part of me That you bring out; I love you, For putting your hand Into my heaped-up heart And passing over All the foolish, weak things That you can’t help Dimly seeing there, And for drawing out Into the light All the beautiful belongings That no one else had looked Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you Are helping me to make of the lumber of my life Not a tavern But a temple; Out of works Of my every day Not a reproach But a song.

Source: https://offbeatbride.com/modern-wedding-readings/

[sunset-wishes-upon-hill]

The Liars and Soothsayer chapter 2 (Previously known as ‘A Kiss To My Prince’)

A Kiss to My Prince series (Unchanged): FF

Chapter I (Rewritten): Time-slip Yuri

                                                Chapter II: Pathos

A/N: Rewritten chapters will be first uploaded on Tumblr before I make the changes on Fanfiction.net

As you have noticed, I have changed the story’s title from ‘A Kiss to My Prince’ to ‘The Liars and Soothsayer.’ This is due to the change in the story plot/characterisation and direction.

The title hints at the relationship that will blossom between Sebastian, Ciel and Yuri as well as Alois and Claude.

Meaning of soothsayer:

Sooth = truth

Sooth + sayer = truth sayer or the ‘one who speak the truth’.

As of today, the soothsayer is used to describe someone who is said to be able to predict the future. This stems from fortune-tellers who wanted deceive their patrons to believe what they said was true and would refer themselves as soothsayer thus the word underwent such changes. The title is a bit of a metaphor for the characters in the story.

“My name is Yuri Park. There was an incident and I woke up in 1887. Am I mad, in a coma, or back in time? Whatever’s happened, it’s like I’ve landed on a different planet. Now, maybe if I can work- out the reason, I can get home.”

Yuri was taken to a room that resembled a living room where she guessed in this era the visitors would be shown. Her whole body was stiff with apprehension and she was actually surprised she managed to stand up and made it to this part of the mansion without fainting. His introduction as the butler of the household nearly went over her head. Her eyes were glued onto her nails where she nervously picked at her damaged skin surrounding it. She was tempted to take off her hoodie, too aware of the dampness coating her white sleeveless vest underneath it, but instead did a quick airing out by shaking her collar when the demon attended to the tea tray.

He readied the tea in meticulous and elegant fashion, not one speck of liquid was spilled even when he poured them from considerable height and placed the utensil and plates of delicious looking savouries. At the sight of such delicacy, she felt her mouth water but made no move to sip or taste anything simply watching the vapour evaporating from the hot tea.

“Please help yourself.” He kindly mentioned, as if he knew she was waiting for some sort of permission.

Yuri managed a small but forced smile, “T-thank you.”

She brought the expensive teacup up with both her hands nervously afraid to drop them and rested upon her lip tilting the liquid into her mouth. Having underestimated its heat, the tea scolded her tongue and Yuri nearly ended up spewing it out onto the table.

“Are you alright? The tea is quite hot…” He asked, having seen the pained look on her face and the way her palm shot up to wipe any spillage.

She quickly nodded, “Yeah! I should have cooled it down. No worries.” Great, she lost her sense of taste. Normally, she would have put in lot of milk and sugar but in a situation like this, it seemed almost..rude so she accepted the tea just as it was served.

“Please try some sweets as well; I have made them an hour earlier.” He encouraged with a smile.

“Um..sure..thanks.” Yuri gingerly picked up an expensive looking fork glided with gold and wondered just how much all this kitchenware would cost in modern world. She could see decorations of gold garnishing the room from the furniture to even the wall and couldn’t help but wonder if it all were real.

Real and 99.9% pure..

She chose the nearest plate, a piece of cake that was artfully decorated. It looked like a vanilla cake with a bit of chocolate icing on them but Yuri wasn’t an expert on judging pricey desserts or food. No, her forte was on cheap, affordable student-discount offering fast foods and mid-scale family restaurant with the luxury consisting of gelato or a nice dessert café like Creams. So rarely did she ever visited any pâtisseries when their price tag for a single slice or portion could probably buy her a nice big mac meal, milkshakes, and McFlurry.

She tentatively brought a small piece into her mouth and felt her eyes widen as its sweetness melted into her mouth. Yuri made a high pitched gasp in the back of her throat and wondered if this was what heaven tasted like.

“I’m glad it is to your taste.”

“Who wouldn’t like this?!” Yuri unconsciously blurted out.

He gave her an appreciated smile, “Thank you. Now that you have settled; I am afraid I shall have to take my leave as I need to attend to my master for a short moment. It shan’t be long; please enjoy the rest of your tea whilst I’m gone.”

Yuri nodded and wondered if she should stand up or not at his departure. She heaved herself up from the chair when he held a hand to stop her.

“Please, sit. There’s no need to stand.”

Yuri nodded and sat back down, “Thank you for the tea.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

She didn’t relax until the demon was out of the room, and only when the door was completely shut and waited for good five minutes did she slouch against the chair. Burying her face in her palms hoping everything was but a lucid dreaming stemmed from her over imaginative mind, she knew this was as it gets. Yuri took out her phone from her hoodie’s pocket and clicked the home button several times in futile hope that by some miracle it’ll light up but what remained was a blank, inactive screen reflecting her despondent self.

Tears threatened to fall again but she couldn’t cry, not when they were going to barge in anytime soon.

Why was she here? Why her? Why not Katie? Or Anna? Or Nikita? Why not anybody else but her?! What is happening back in her world? Did anyone notice she was missing? Did anybody even care? Would her parents called the police? Would they have told her parents she disappeared in the hospital? And would they be crying now, just wondering who snatched their baby away? How would her school react? Would they organise a morning assembly revealing that one member of the student went missing last night? Would they ask for the students prey for her safe return? Would she appear on the news? Would the reporters be showing one of her picture on the tv screen’s side corner and talking about how she was like as a daughter, a friend and a student?

Millions of thoughts ran inside her mind and she didn’t hear the door opening with Sebastian walking in, only he was accompanied by someone else nor the chair across her sliding back and forward as someone took their seat.

Yuri glanced up, flinching as she came face to face with the main character of the manga – not a novel or a movie – but a manga that was adapted to anime as well. She didn’t know about him that well – or the detailed manga story line, just vaguely remembered one of her friend going on about a 13 year old boy who had taken a path of revenge and her various conspiracy theories surrounding it. For once, she was thankful that she paid attention. Where did she say the chapter was up to now? The Blue Switch? The Red…witch? It was something witch..

“Which year in the future do you come from?”

She met his eyes now, having been brought out of her little mumbling world, “Oh..uh..” She momentarily prepared what she was going to say, but there was a slight distrust in his eyes when he registered her pause and flusters.

“2017.”

“2017?” He echoed and his voice held a tone she couldn’t quite decipher.

She nodded, “Um…Our Queen is Queen Elizabeth’s II who recently surpassed Queen Victoria’s record as reigning body and…Donald Trump became the U.S. president…I don’t really have much to say…”

The two became noticeably quiet, perhaps allowing her words to sink in as well as weighing whether she was sane and telling the truth or should they have her institutionalised.

“I know it’s hard to believe; but it’s true. If this year is what you say it is, then I really did..travel to the 19th century. I mean, look, how will you explain the phone?” She rummaged through her bag, desperate to fish anything that was futuristic looking or too advance to exist in Victorian era; she took out everything she can on the table.

Jewelleries she has been looking for a long time with some that were not hers’, gums, water bottle, receipts, planner, lip balm, chocolates, asthma pumps,, her wallet with her money and ID and.. she eyed the blue and green paper wraps her hand automatically brought up and before dropping it back in. No need to explain to them about period pads.

They eyed the objects they had already seen.

“I believe you.” Ciel said after a while, sipping his tea with one hand and another holding the plate beneath it, “Put it away.” He ordered, as if he was more bothered by the mess made on the table with the foods.

Yuri did so, her face red with embarrassment.

“Do you know who I am?” He asked, one eye scanning her as others were hidden by his trademark eye patch.

You have one chance, Yuri. Make sure you tell him the right answer. Her head did quick calculations on predicted outcome for either telling him yes or no. How will he act if I tell him he’s just a drawing? Come on, THINK!

“…No.”

“I will warn you that I do not appreciate being lied to.” He sharply said, “We shall try it again; do you know who I am?”

“…” Yuri gulped, “I heard about you.”

He seemed satisfied with her new answer.

“Where?”

“I know that you’re an Earl…and,” She turned to Sebastian, “…That you’re a demon.”

The Earl calmly put the tea down onto the plate with a soft clink, “And how are you privy to that information?”

If she didn’t know how he looked like, she’d think from his choice of words and the way he seemed to carry himself, she’d mistake him for a lot older person than he was.

Yuri clenched her eyes shut, how will she explain it?

“..Because you’re – I mean your world is…” She couldn’t say it, she felt sick now.

“My world is what?” He sounded a little impatient, “Tell me – now.”

“Because you’re world is-is a…fiction.”

Everything seemed to hush and still, the air felt heavy and Yuri was sure she would have toppled to the ground if it weren’t for the chair holding her up. She couldn’t breathe and she didn’t know if it were because she had her face down and holding her breath or if the entire oxygen molecule vanished with the exposure of this world’s reality.

Humourless laughter left the Earl’s lip, his body went into a violent tremor as he hunched onto the table in unbefitting manner for someone who was so in control of himself and others around him.

“A fiction you say..”

Sebastian looked slightly worried for his master, he didn’t seem, at all, so..amused as his master that the universe they were living in was fake and what she seemed to hint, a form of literature.

“Hah…a fiction.” He puffed out the word like his airway was being constricted, “You’re insinuating…everything I’ve experienced, every emotion I felt…is..a mere writing?”

She didn’t confirm his question because she knew it wasn’t a question he wanted her to verbally confirm once again.

Yuri hid for a cover that was her arms when his arm lashed out to swing the pricey dishes and cups from the table and pricey porcelains shattered into splinters on the table and the carpet.

“Young master–“ Sebastian began as he saw Ciel’s hand redden from the burn.

“I-it might not be true!” Yuri yelled in hope of calming him down but his glares sent shivers down her spine and the thought ‘Ah, he’s going to kill me’ flashed passed her mind, “F-for some reason, someone sent me here; I don’t know why, b-but now your world is now just as alive as mine!”

“Young master, may I remind you that tonight, at seven, Mr. Damian are coming for supper and we should start the preparation.”

Ciel looked like he wanted to say – or shout – something, maybe about how the world wasn’t real and everything that was going on wasn’t real either.

“L-look,” Yuri quickly intervened and inhaled deeply; calm, calm, “I know it might seems like a cruel joke to realise the world you lived in – in my world – is not real, but I’m here now. Maybe something’s changed and now this world is just as real as mine.”

“What do you know of this world, then?” He recovered quickly although his fist remained clenched on the table, “What will happen from now on? Tell me everything you know.”

“I don’t the exact detail but I know you’re looking for your parents’ killer, and that you’re the Queen’s Watchdog. The last time I’ve heard about your world; you’re close to finding out what happened that night.”

“You will help.” It was an order, “You shan’t lie in my presence, nor betray my confidante. In return, I will bid you shelter, clothing, and food. Is the term and condition satisfactory?”

Yuri took the time to think about his offer. How weird she would often click or sign ‘I agree to the terms and condition stated above’ without ever actually reading them, but felt like she should ask for a written contract with all the legal clauses and lawyers to guide her through it instead. But beggars can’t be choosers. In particular, a beggar lost in 19th century with nothing but the bag in her hand and few modern pound notes and coins other than the knowledge of future. She didn’t have the mind or the talent to actually go away and start producing modern objects. She was just a normal eighteen year old girl with what the 19th century doctors would call overly creative imaginations.

She simply nodded.

Ciel stood up and she quickly followed the suit, intending to see to his departure. He didn’t look at her, facing Sebastian who waited for his master’s order.

“Introduce her to the servants and show her to the guest chamber.” He said more harshly then needed.

“Of course.” Sebastian said, “But should we not have the burn examined? I can call for the Doctor.”

“No need.” He said, “Clean this mess up.”

“Yes, young master.”

Sebastian bent down to pick up the visible pieces of the porcelain and Yuri bent down to help him.

“Ms. Park, it is quite alright. This is my job. Let me.” He gently said, prying the glasses from her fingers.

Yuri frantically shook her head, “It’s fine; let me help. I’d appreciate the distraction.”

“But as a guest–.”

“I don’t think I’m an important enough of a guest to have people do things for me.” Yuri joked lightly, although uneasiness was evident in her voice, “I’m more of a reluctant guest you took in.”

“Even so, I insi–“

“Please.” Yuri pleaded, meeting his gaze, “It might sound weird but tasks like this are a good stress reliever for me. Just..please.”

Sebastian sighed, “Very well.”

After cleaning up the mess, with smaller fractions of the glasses swept properly, Sebastian gathered the familiar looking servants whom she remembering seeing briefly when Arianna was showing her the manga.

Mey-Rin, the maid; Finnian, the gardener; Baldroy, the chef and the house steward, Tanaka, all greeted her with respect and announcing she will be a stay-in guest for a while. Yuri introduced herself while approaching to offer her hand to shake. The action caused a bit of fluster amongst the servant and she remembered where she was. The oppressive social mores meant it wasn’t appropriate her to acknowledge the servants in such ways. Still, even when she remembered she still waited for her empty hand to be filled.

“Mey-Rin, is it not rude to keep our esteemed guest waiting?” Sebastian said, realising she won’t be backing down.

The maid’s face became as red as an apple and stuttered to make form a smooth sentence, “A-ah, yes! It is lovely to meet you, Miss. Park!”

Then she shook Finnian’s then Baldory then Tanaka’s.

“Please just call me Yuri.”

Their faces, except Tanaka, seemed morph into something she identified as horror and shock.

“W-we cannot–“ Mey-Rin began.

“Please.” Yuri pleaded, “It doesn’t have to be in front of other people; just when we’re together, you can call me Yuri. I don’t like being called so formally.”

“B-but…” Finnian muttered.

“If this is what Miss. Park wishes, we shall do so.” Sebastian said, “She is not used to such formality. Since she is our guest, we should do our best to accommodate her needs.”

The three servants lowered their head in surrender before saying in unison, “Yes, Mr. Michaelis.”

Sebastian turned to Yuri, “Now then, let me guide you to your room. I have taken the liberty to have your bag placed.”

“Oh, thank you.”

The room she was given was just as elegant and luxurious as the living room she was recently in. It reminded her of the hotel suite room that would have cost her more than her parent’s wages for a night.

“This is your room. If you have any problems or questions, please do not hesitate to ring the bell. Either I or Mey-Rin will come.” He said, pointing to the bell pull beside the bed, “Mey-Rin will come at five to ready you for dinner.”

She nodded in thank even though their generosity was not so altruistic, “..Thank you for taking me in.”

Alone in the house, Yuri carefully sat on the edge of large King sized bed and stared at the mirror hung up on the fireplace. She sighed, afraid of things that will come.

“The progression of East Indian jewel technology is really quite remarkable” Damian pointed out, trying to steer into a more business orientated subject. It was obvious the man’s head wasn’t in the game and only half-heartedly playing along as to appease Ciel, who was the benefactor with a deep pocket.

Yuri sat in the corner, silent, and wondering once again how she got here and if she could ever go back to her world. The two men barely acknowledged her other than their introduction to each other, Damian seemed a bit reluctant to let a woman in the room whilst they talked business but at Ciel’s insistent, he was more than happy to bury her into oblivion and give all his focus and attention to the one that matter the most in this room.

“Many brilliant people have also been raised there ― entranced by the eyes of the dead.” He continued.

“That’s unlucky. I’m out for one turn, eh?” Ciel hummed, ignoring the man’s diverging attempts.

“It’s an opportune time right now!” A gentle, promising smile appeared; hiding what lurks beneath, “I would like to continue to expand my company’s business and secure larger workforce” Ciel leaned back, quite obviously not interested in the discussion of investment.

“It’s your turn.”

Damian looked at his meagre number of chess pieces with miserably hidden boredom. His distractions and insouciance had cost him of his many pawns.

“Oh yes. Well then, excuse me.” He threw the die, landing on certain card.

“Yes, and five.” He moved the dice before he ventured, “About that, though. If I were to receive assistance in the form of another £12,000 pounds…”

“Excuse me,” Sebastian interrupted, “Dinner is ready.”

They were led to the garden and the entrance hall sparkled and shined in binding light, almost like the one she fell into. Mr Damian awed in compliment as he looked around and even Ciel looked impressed by the decor. The sets of oak door were like a portal to another dimension that was entirely different from the one they were in now. The door seemed to have been a door to heaven as it opened with much more brighter light before it dimmed down into appropriate setting, revealing an enchanting Japanese stone garden filled with bloomed cherry blossoms as its petals feathered down like snow.

Main highlight of the evening was in the centre of the courtyard, a long and slender dinner table covered with clean white cloth as not to dull and bring the full attention to the Japanese table decorations. Seeing the sight of it had Yuri’s heart throbbing at the beauty; the work could not have been done by human hands and it was very true for the particular butler who prepared them.

Ciel and Mr Damian were seated at each opposite end of the table while Yuri was seated between the two in the middle. Sebastian walked smoothly to the table and placed the dishes in front of the household.

“Dinner is served.” He announced, “On the menu is our chef Baldroy’s Gyuu-tataki-don.”

“Gyuu-tataki-don?” Ciel and the guest echoed in surprise.

“This..is dinner?” The butler nodded and there were small amount of disappointment in Damian’s voice, “I was expecting a Kyoto-style course meal or something..”

Sebastian gave him a small smile of confident before bolting out, “Mr. Damian, did you know.. donburi has been used in Japan from ancient times as a feast to express gratitude to labourers. A dish given as a treat to a person who has rendered great service..that is Donburi!” The older man and Ciel were clearly shocked and surprise at the knowledge he held.

Although Yuri wasn’t so fond of raw fish in sushi or any dishes involving raw fish or meat, having not eaten anything since the bits of snacks she had late night, the sight of it seemed to awaken her forgotten hunger

“Houhan, a court dish for which the masses yearned, is said to be the origin of Donburi.” Sebastian continued, appeasing Damian’s mind toward the favour of the food that lied in front of him. “Furthermore, I thought you would be tired of elaborate dishes and planned this so you might eat the choicest of meat simply.”

Daze look glazed over at the older man’s eyes before laughing approvingly.

“Ciel, this is great! You always surprise me!” He joyfully added, “A lot of the fellows in this business lack a sense of humour. But I think we’ll continue to get on just fine from here on.”

The Earl smirked, satisfied, “I’m honoured to hear that.”

“We did it!” Finny cheered, his arms shooting up in the air. “It was a complete success!”

Mey-Rin hurried toward, pushing through Finnian and Baldroy.

“Move out of the way! I’m up next, so let me do my job.” She marched speedily through the door, stopping in front of the cart holding the wine.

“I also selected an Italian wine to suit your taste, sir.” Sebastian informed, but there was an awkward silence between the pause and Sebastian motioned toward the still maid.

“Mey-Rin!”

“Yes?”

Sebastian moved closer to her ear and whispered, “Stop standing there and pour the wine into the man’s glass.”

The flurry of blush spread across Mey-Rin’s cheeks like wildfire, his action having caused quite a panic at the proximity between them. She swivelled shakily to the guest’s side, holding the wine in her arm with a dazed look behind her glasses. The chef, knowing her clumsiness ― particularly in untimely manner ― noticed with hawk eyes.

“..Hey?”

“Yes?” Finnian and Sebastian responded.

“Isn’t there something wrong with the little lady?”

The trio trailed their eyes toward chef’s pointing finger and gasped ominously.

“Miss Mey-Rin!” The three yelled, attempting to correct ― or if possible ― stop her, “You’re spilling the wine!”

Everyone other than Ciel’s business colleague, who was entrenched by the garden, seemed to realise the trouble was brewing.  Mey Rin, still star-struck from earlier on, still poured on the wine even if the liquid was gushing dangerously to the rim of the cup and began overflowing onto the white cloth when it was no longer possible for the cup to contain it.

Sebastian acted immediately with inhuman-like speed. His hands grasped the white table cloth and with a swift back pull of his arms, the red stained material smoothly glided off the table with only smallest amount of disturbance. The table wares, cup and plates rattled slightly as the only hint of such stunt he just pulled.

Damian, hearing the glass clink, turned away from the scenery to the table which was now bare.

“W-where did the tablecloth go?” The man swore there was a white cloth beneath their plates.

Ciel schooled his sudden burst of panicked expression before smoothing it down to a slight smirk, continuing to eat as if it was nothing.

“I had it taken away because there was a slight stain on it. Don’t trouble yourself. Excuse us for our discourtesy. Please relax and enjoy your meal.”

Mr. Damian slightly titled his head, puzzled, before resuming back to eating. I savoured the food deliberately and slowly, it was absolutely delicious and five Michelin star worthy, but the bubbling anxiety and adrenaline was doing its best to dull my taste and did not notice Sebastian disappearing behind the door.

“So Miss. Park,” Damian began, “From which exotic lands do you hails from?”

Yuri looked up from her food, surprised she was being addressed and prepared to answer his question, “I’m from Korea. But I don’t think Korea is exotic.” There was nothing exotic about Korea, or Asia, or its people. It was her second home and a country she happened to be born in just like him who happened to be born in England as English.

“Oh my, that is quite a distance. I hear Corea(1) still remains a mystery to this day with their strict isolationist policy. What made you travel so far?” As far as Damian knew of Corea, the country was dubbed ‘Hermit Kingdom’ by frustrated Western conquistadors in days of yore.

Yuri shrugged, “I just wanted to travel.”

“And how did you come to be acquainted with Lord Phantomhive?” Yuri ignored the implication beneath his question.

“Mr. Damian,” Ciel intervened much to her relief, “Let’s focus on the food.”

“O-of course, Lord Phantomhive.”

The night ended with the poor, scared man out of his wit running away shouting ‘Mama Mia’ just as she remembered seeing. Yuri wondered whether the story will follow the original time scale or her being here meant it could change its course of directions.

“Is this what happened?”

Yuri looked up from the loveseat she was sitting on, “Yeah…”

“And what will happen tomorrow?”

She tried to dig every moments, scenes and chapters she’s seen and read from every corner of her memory.

“Uh…I’m sorry I’m not sure…I can’t remember it now..I’ll tell you when I do. Sorry.”

He didn’t say anything after that.

For someone who realised their entire world and life has been a work of a fiction written by an author, he seemed calm and accepting as of now. But Yuri didn’t know this Earl so much – nor how he worked. He was a child yet he seemed to have an adult way of dealing with things albeit perhaps more physically than an actual adult would but she didn’t know how an adult would be able to compartmentalise such revelation either.

Ciel Phantomhive stared out the window, watching the winds drifting through leaves of the trees. The green foliage swayed in waltz like movement to singular direction as he repeated her words over and over again in his head. Fiction or not; real or not, he had the advantages. As the protagonist, like any other tragic novels, he would have his revenge and he would be dealt with as deserved. The Past uncertainties whether he will ever have his revenge seemed to vanish, soon replaced with portent. His eye travelled to the reflection on the window; a stiff figure staring at her hands in worry.

Terminology:

(1) Corea- "Korea” is the modern spelling of Corea, a name attested in English as early as 1614.  It is an exonym derived from Cauli, Marco Polo's transcriptionof the Chinese.

[rimalupin]

Headcanon: Suitors’ Rapping Styles

Because I’ve been listening to a lot of rap music recently (Sorry if y’all don’t understand my rambling about rapping, LOL. :P).

Alyn Crawford - The Storyteller: 

Stage Name: Captain Badass

Pretty good at freestyling: Alyn can definitely beat his fellow knights at rap battles (he used to practice with Leo when they were kids). 

When he raps, he has to tell some kind of story. Otherwise, he’ll get lost if he doesn’t know what he’s rapping about. He feels like it’s the most effective way to put some meaning into his rhymes. 

He likes to use movements/hand gestures to emphasize his lyrics. 

EXAMPLE: “As a knight of Wysteria I vow to serve the crown / Mess with my country and I will shoot you down.” *”shoots” audience with his finger guns*

Louis Howard - The Genius Lyricist: 

Stage Name: Ice Rhymes (Geddit? B/c he’s the “Ice Prince”? ((Hey, I didn’t say their rapper names were gonna be good, okay? :P)))

Louis picked up some rapping skills from Sid when they were younger (Louis probably overheard Sid one day, which then led to impromptu rap sessions during their free time.).

Louis hardly freestyles anymore because he’s worried that he’ll say something dumb, even though he’s actually really good at freestyle rapping. 

He prefers to think about his rhymes beforehand. Once he comes up with something good, he writes the lyrics down, finds a good beat/backing track, polishes up his song, and then memorizes the rap in case he needs to share it with his buddies in the future.

He probably practices in front of Lucia TBH.

EXAMPLE: “I’m ignoring all the haters: all their faces and their words / Cuz once the ice starts breaking they’ll see how much it hurts…. Oh wait, that was good. I need to write that down.”

Leo Crawford - The Linguist:

Stage Name: Double Entendre

One of the best freestylers of this list (Maybe freestyle rapping runs through the Crawford family? Lol, idk: I’m just putting some things out there. 😂). Leo’s a fast thinker, so he can come up with lyrics in less than a nanosecond.

He also loves playing with the words he uses - he’ll experiment with close-rhymes, monosyllabic & polysyllabic words, and even words from other languages.

He’s such a show-off, but that’s what makes him awesome at rapping: he’s not afraid to show his confidence. 😄

Also, Leo’s a witty and sassy little firecracker, so he’s got a few diss tracks up his arsenal (he won’t roast you too hard though, I promise).

EXAMPLE: “I’ve been learnin’ and searchin’ about why you’re standing there lurkin’ / Why don’t you come a little closer? I won’t bite ya, good lookin’.”

(Did I mention that his flirtatiousness skyrockets when he raps? 😂❤)

Also, Sebastian can now rap thanks to Leo.

Giles Christophe - Emotional Rapper:

Stage Name: Cat Daddy (LOL, LIKE THE DANCE MOVE. 😂)

Giles can freestyle if he’s in the mood for it (or if he’s got time for it), but he usually prefers to write down his rhymes.

He’s kind of like Alyn when it comes to rapping: Giles often tells stories through his raps, and they always end up being so emotional (His raps often get pretty deep.).

He can change the moods/tones between his rhymes very smoothly through both his rapping and the lyrics themselves. His audience is always moved somehow by his performances, so I promise that HE WILL MAKE YOU FEEL THINGS if you ever listen to him rap.

EXAMPLE: “Helpless and hopeless are the voices in my head / As darkness consumes my reality in bed.” (Shooot, this got super-emo real quick. Whoops. :b)

Sid Arnault/Lloyd Grandier - A Freaking Legend:

Stage Name: $iD (I’m not even sorry about this one: I can totally see Sid signing his name with a dollar sign instead of an “S.” 😂👌)

Name three or four of the best rappers you can think of. Now, imagine that they all had a baby (Hypothetically! :P): their child would be Sid. Honestly, this guy’s rapping skills are so good that he would probably have the honor to be considered as an equal among rap legends IRL.

Sid was basically born with the talent of rap (it’s a legit God-given talent), but he definitely honed his skills while traveling for his job. He especially learned from the best rappers while hanging out at different bars.

Sid will most definitely destroy his challengers in a rap battle (It happens like 99.9% of the time, so watch out!), but he can also sit down and write actual masterpieces.

There are no other words to describe Sid as a rapper except for this one: A-FREAKING-MAZING.

EXAMPLE: This was how Sid ended his first rap battle (Which he won.): “They call me S-I-D. Don’t you dare forget my name / I’m the dude who straight-up put all you f*ckers to shame.”

(Oh, did I mention that he almost never strays away from profanity? LOL, classic Sid~. 😂)

Nico Meier - The Disser:

Stage Name: MC Clutch

Nico is one of the best rappers on this list (I could see him as a really good improviser.). I also think he’s also one of the fastest.

He can make up silly/fun rhymes if he’s just jamming out with his buddies, but hoooo boy he can be brutal when it comes to rap battles.

Heck, anyone will REGRET challenging this guy to a rap battle because he will lay out ALL THE DISS TRACKS. I guarantee that HE WILL ROAST YOU LIKE A MARSHMALLOW UNTIL YOU BURN (he is the 0.01% that Sid has yet to beat, LOL).

Besides completely annihilating his challengers at rap battles, Nico can write pretty decent rhymes if you give him enough time (because I don’t think he has the patience for that kind of thing: he’d rather just spit out whatever comes to his mind at the moment).

EXAMPLE: “You’re in a pickle? You’re stumped! Let’s let everybody know / That your flow is as slow as your bank account’s growth.” (BTW this was an example of one of Nico’s “nicer” roasts. I promise it gets worse: it’s just that I couldn’t think of anything more savage to say at the moment. 😅😂)

Byron Wagner - The Inspirational Rapper:

Stage Name: Star Lord (jkjk). His rapper name would probably just be BYRON (Yes, with all the caps.) because honestly, his name’s already cool enough to be a stage name. 😊

Byron’s okay at freestyling, but he prefers to prepare his raps ahead of time.

He would rap as if he was giving an important speech to his people. I’m not saying that his lines are boring and monotonous: he actually finds ways to connect to his audience (He’s basically the motivational speaker among the other rappers in this list.).

He also isn’t afraid to rap about touchy or controversial subjects, especially when they are relevant to whatever’s going on in his kingdom or in the world.

EXAMPLE: “Though tragedies like war and famine may never end / We must join hand-in-hand to keep the peace and make amends.” (Aaand this sounds like the conclusion to a Shakespearean tragedy. Whoops x2. xD)

Albert Burckhardt - The Rhymer:

Stage Name: Al the Poet

For a guy that loses his glasses quite often, he sure doesn’t lose his flow (LOL sorry, Al. 😂)! Albert’s actually pretty talented when it comes to freestyle rapping.

He’s really good at rhyming, but not just at the ends of his bars. Oh noooo, this guy can find rhymes almost ANYWHERE in his raps.

He really only stops freestyling when he thinks his raps get a little… umm… “out of hand” (Which is why he’d rather write down his lyrics than embarrass himself in a rap battle. 😅😂).

EXAMPLE: Al: “You know I’m gettin’ down to business when I put on my glasses / All these ladies are so fine, so I’ll compliment their - *record scratch*” Nico: “Ooo, Al was about to say something dirty~.” Al: *blushes madly* “No I wasn’t, you brat.” Nico: “Oh yeah? What were you gonna say?” Al: “… classiness.” *brusquely walks away* *locks himself in his room for three hours* 😅

Robert Branche - The Innovator:

Stage Name: DJ Robert

Robert treats rap music as an art: he’s the kind of person that acknowledges the genre as poetry.

Like Louis, Robert is a master lyricist. However, Robert’s raps are intriguing and unique, mostly because he ignores the “conventions” of rap. Like he doesn’t mind if a few words don’t rhyme or if the rhythm isn’t consistent throughout his song. Some people call it strange, other call it new and different, Robert calls it art.

Along with surprising his audience with his unique lyrics, Robert’s known for making (somewhat subtle) references towards his own life as a way to get his listeners emotionally invested into his songs (Yup. Robert’s an emotional rapper too.).

EXAMPLE: “The ruler of a country that doesn’t exist / Was a boy; was a son; was a king that won’t be missed.”

And here’s something a little extra for y’all:

The Princess of Wysteria - RAP GODDESS:

Stage Name: Queenie

There’s a reason she has that stage name…

And that is because….

SHE IS THE BEST RAPPER ON THIS LIST.

NOBODY CAN BEAT HER. NOPE.

TOO GOOD. TOO TALENTED.

MOVE ASIDE, BOYS: THE QUEEN IS HERE.

EXAMPLE: “Princess today, queen tomorrow. / Not even one of you fellows can suppress my flow.”

(Lmao, I couldn’t help myself, okay? 😂)