#please reply with your opinions since this is technically for your reading preference?

[cafeinthemoon]

The Founders with s/o who's a civilian and has talent to people maneuvering 🗨

This was requested by @kaiseaya​ (thanks for it, dear 💜) and I found it very interesting to try and imagine how it would be for the Founders to have a s/o who, as a civilian, doesn’t have blatant, impressive power as them (shinobi), but has their ways to convince people of their views and make them collaborate: they are versed on the laws, bureaucracy, diplomacy and takes the advantage of social conventions to achieve their goals.

Not all warriors are ninjas, right? 😉

Fandom: Naruto | Founders

Symbols: 💗 | ◻ | ▶

Hashirama

He met you at a diplomatic meeting

Tobirama said that they attended it alongside the most capable representatives available, and you were one of them

At first he thought that meeting was going to be as boring as the many others in which he participated since he became the Hokage, so he didn’t think much about the people chosen by his brother. You know, he hated to deal with this things so he trusted Tobirama as he wouldn’t trust himself

Things were like this until it came your time to speak. Once he saw you in action, he became interested in you

He spent the whole meeting observing and thinking about you and your talents. Your speech, your intelligence and your knowledge could only be compared to the ones of few people he knew, including his brother

However, you had something nor he or anyone else had: the sensibility you used to put in your work. He noticed you had a deep understanding of the human emotions and behavior, and used this as an advantage besides your argumentation

In other people this trait of yours could be considered some sort of manipulation, but you were not this kind of person, and that was exactly what gathered Hashirama’s attention. You were never pretentious or disrespectful, and when things started to get tense you promptly acted to calm everyone’s moods. You used your power as a way to connect people, to intermediate communication between them and thus to bring peace 💜

It was something that he himself always tried to do, but his preference to use his heart to guide his actions instead of logic and technical knowledge took the best of him and he always ended up depending on his brother’s rationality. You, on the other hand, combined the best of the two sides

Someone who achieved the perfect balance between their heart and their brain – that’s the type of person Hashirama wanted by his side. And he told you that when you met in the evening of that day

Today, he’s glad he has you with him 💕

Among the Founders, he is the one who’s less concerned about the fact that you are not a ninja. You do your work as no one else could, so why should he worry?

It’s true that when you and his brother are there to work with him, he might feel a bit intimidated by your competence, but he loves to have you all together. You three are like a team 🤝

Tobirama

Working besides Hashirama and being a master of maneuvering himself, it was only natural that sooner or later, Tobirama’s path would cross yours

He had a talent for organizing tasks and delegate them to the people with the right skills to accomplish them, whether they were shinobi or not. He simply knew everyone’s place in the schemes

And this is how he met you

Some of his partners talked to him about you when a complex mission was assigned to them, and he immediately demanded your presence

He explained what you had to do and gave you the proper tools for the work, or at least the tools he thought to be the right ones, because once you’ve read the papers and analyzed the situation, you pointed out some fragile spots that needed to be revised and asked for some time to do it

Your observations caught him off guard. How could he just miss important stuff like that? Was he becoming blind?! He asked the papers back and revised the whole pile lmao

In the end you were right, and he gave you the time you needed 😜

Time passed and episodes like this happened from time to time. Tobirama never brought them to the table, but he couldn’t deny that they bothered him a bit. You know, man is proud of his own capacities, so having someone who “challenges” him without even noticing had its impact

Besides, it didn’t go unnoticed by him that you didn’t depend solely on your intellectual and technical skills to achieve your goals: you had the ability of putting some “human” touch in everything you did, specially when your work involved direct communication with groups of people. You never imposed yourself or tried to force things out of them. You just knew where and how to press, and then you had everyone at your feet

One day, when you were talking about work and such, he made a comment on how you manage to have the idealism of his brother but not his empty head without letting it blind your judgment and always prioritize facts and logic when making your decisions. You, on your turn, said that this wasn’t a big deal and that you were actually learning so much working by his side that it was good to have his acknowledgment

This conversation basically stated the beginning of your relationship ❤

Today, Tobirama says that working with you is one of his fav things in life, but let's be honest, he can get a bit jealous of you sometimes lol

This leads him to be more stubborn than he naturally is, and he starts discussing about minor things and questioning your decisions without a good reason. You’ve already had some serious arguments bc of that (Tobi for god’s sake just chill)

However, as you use to do at work, you always solve your problems with patience and open communication

He even admits that such things are hard to accomplish specially for a shinobi, a kind of person who is used to conflict above all

In the end, he's more than happy to have someone like you by his side 🥰

Madara

In this gif he’s probably wondering if you’re really a civilian or if your talent is actually some sort of secret genjutsu

You met at an encounter with representatives of other nations. Tobirama couldn’t attend the meeting, so his brother chose you to go in his place, but you weren’t alone in this: as one of Konoha’s Founders, Madara Uchiha was included among the representatives of the village

Because of your work, you and Madara were familiar to each other, but you never had a proper conversation or anything of this kind. Still, you’ve heard things about him here and there, and decided it’d be better to keep him out of your way

That’s why you weren’t exactly pleased when Hashirama came to tell you that this man was joining the group. It was when you were introduced to each other

You were formal and polite in your greetings and everything was fine, but then Hashirama stated that you were going to mediate the negotiations, since you were replacing Tobirama

The look Madara gave to you was enough for you to see he was not satisfied with this arrangement

He didn’t say a word against the Hokage’s decision, that’s true, but he didn’t miss the chance to point out that you seemed too young for such role and because of this, there was a possibility of the other nations not treat Konoha’s group with the respect they deserved

Too young = an inexperienced girl who’s not a shinobi occupying a position as the leader of negotiations with international diplomats. And yes, he suggested it right in your face he has no shame lmao

Your first instinct was to give him a harsh reply, but once you looked at him, you saw it wasn’t worthy, so you just told him to wait until the meeting’s beginning

“Maybe it is better to give them the benefit of doubt, at least for now. We do not know them yet, but once we do, we will know the best way to deal with them. We know our goals here and we will work to reach them, whether they appreciate us or not” 👊

Hashirama, who was hearing all of this, blushed (as he always does in this kind of situation), but the Uchiha just smiled and said he didn’t want to offend you and that “if the Hokage trusts you for this task, I am with him”

As expected when you are involved, the meeting was a success. Your knowledge of bureaucratic matters and ability to observe combined with your understanding of human behavior were enough to grant your village one more victory. Hashirama wasn’t even worried that his brother was not there

But that didn’t mean the end of Madara’s mistrust of your talents: if he didn’t want to acknowledge your capacities during the meeting, now he purposely refused to give you the credit you deserved, stating that circumstances worked at your favor and etc.

Yep, unfair, irritating and immature, but you know, this man the personification of stubbornness. He has a hard time seeing other people's value, specially if they’re not shinobi, so it wouldn’t be different with you, right?

It was only when you made it clear that you didn’t crave for his approval that he stopped denying what it was obvious and recognized that you deserved respect for your hard work

Yeah it never crossed his mind that someone could simply ignore his opinion but thank goodness you were good at brat handling

But it was the first step for you both get close to each other 😏

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

Chapter 4 – A new day

Synopsys: The name of the series is super random, don't mind me. Reader is a postgraduate student at NYU, made a docuseries on her research, and the show got picked up by Netflix. She goes on a press tour and meets Tom on a ‘chat show’. They get together and she decides to stay for a few days in London with him. This could be an amazing few days or more? It’s been interesting writing how they’ll deal with distance and tight schedules once ‘honeymoon’ is over...

Heads up: my first language is Portuguese, so that might explain some things here - of course, I wrote thinking about myself hahaha

Warnings for the series: mention of illicit drugs, angst caused by distance, smut (next chapters, very explicit), anxiety caused by paparazzi, and rude random people taking photos.

Other than that, this is just my guilty pleasure writing so lots of caring sweet Tom and fluffiness.

Chapter 1 - A new city

Chapter 2 - Show time

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

Chapter 4 - A new day

This is 1.8k words (approximately)

A while after overthinking it you closed your eyes and next thing you knew you were opening them at the sound of your alarm clock. Shit. ‘Should’ve sleept more’ was your first thought but then you remembered why you didn’t. You checked your phone. There was one text from “Tom Holland”, you just loved the quotation markes there, they reminded you of the mess it was your first interaction.

Did he really just Google-translated ‘beautiful’? And are you really swooning over that?

You got up from bed smiling like an idiot and went to get ready for the day. You were getting breakfast with David at the hotel so you had to hurry cause the Breakfast show begins at 7. It was supposed to be a bright sunny (and hot) summer day, which you knew was rare in London. But it was still a work commitment, so you decided on pants and maybe you could change before going to wherever you were going with Tom. Tom! Should you reply to him?

Ok. Play it cool. Now, focus on why you’re here in the first place, will you? You wore capri pants, a t-shirt tucked in with a belt and some stylish shoes. It looked cool, you were comfortable and that’s the best we can expect in a situation like this. No one’s expecting you to show up ready for a red carpet or anything like that anyway. You texted David and he was already downstairs getting some food, so you just went to meet him.

“Good morning” You greeted David at the buffet.

“Someone’s in a good mood. Good morning” He was in a good mood too, probably cause you’ll be going home today. Your good mood had nothing to do with that. If you’re honest, that was a reason for ruining your spirit.

“Uh-hum” You agreed.

“So, I was looking and I think I can change our tickets. You know, for earlier.” He told you as you were sitting in a table at the corner and you couldn’t help but look at him like he was saying something absurd. “Ok, you don’t look so happy about it.”

“No, I was just hoping to see the city today. You know, enjoy it a little bit before going back.” As you said that your phone lit up on the table, it was a text from Tom.

“The city. Right” David smirked at you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laughed at him and smiled when you saw the texts.

“Is that ok?” You heard David talking.

“Hum? Sorry?” You were smiling.

“Gosh I can’t with you. I said I might just change my own ticket, would that be ok with you?”

“Oh yeah! Go ahead. I’ll be fine. I have all my flight info.” He looked at you suspiciously.

“Just…please be in New York next week? The meeting is on Friday afternoon”

“What?” You laughed. “Of course I’ll be there. Why wouldn’t I?” He just shook his head and laughed at you.

You finished your breakfast and went back to the room to brush your teeth and get your stuff. 15 minutes later, you were in a cab with David going to the Radio One studios. On the way, you snapped a pic to send him, you know, keep the conversation going.

You rolled your eyes at him but still couldn’t help but agree.

The breakfast show was from 7 to 10 am, but your interview was not until 8 am. So you and David just hang out in the studio in the meantime. “The first hour is mainly for music”, the girl that welcomed you guys explained. Soon after, Greg James walked out to the little reception and greeted you and David. “Hey guys! Thank you for coming! I’m Greg, nice to meet you.” He offered.

“Hi! Thank you for having us! I’m (y/n), this is David.” You replied and gave him a quick hug.

“Hey! How’s it going?” David said and gave him a man’s hug/handshake. Boys.

“So this is basically standard, since it’s a live interview, I like to ask if there’s any topic you want to avoid or something you’d like to talk specially about?” He asked you.

“Oh…I don’t know. No? Just…let’s talk about how great the show is so people want to watch it and we can keep making more” You laughed.

“And it IS great! I’ve seen it, really loved. Congrats!”

“That’s kind of you. Thank you!”

“No problem, so…I guess I’ll just direct it towards the interviews you did, you can tell me some funny stories? Awkward ones preferably.”

“You got it! I’ll give you my worst embarrassment stories, you know, for the good of entertainment” You laughed.

--

A little while later you were sitting in the studio with Greg on the other side of the table. You told him about the show and some embarrassing stories as well.

“So, what are the plans now? Will we be seeing more seasons of the show? Maybe in other cities, London perhaps?”

“Well, I can’t say”

“Oh come on! Is Netflix the next Marvel on terms of keeping secrets?”

“No, I mean, I don’t know. I literally can’t say because I don’t know what the future looks like for us. It’s been so great to go out and talk about the show, and see how much people liked it but I’m kind of just enjoying while I can.”

“No! Don’t say that! They won’t let you get away like that!”

“I hope not! If they want us, I’m all in! I’d love to make 10 more seasons and in other cities, even! Can you imagine?"

“Now that’s more like it! Let’s make a deal, if Netflix don’t renew with you, BBC will take it!”

“Ok! Sure! Are you in charge of it?”

“No really, but that’s just a technicality” He laughed. “Alright, so we’ll play some music and when we come back we’re going to hear some unpopular opinions! Are you ready for it Ana?”

“Sure, yeah! I love the theme song, let’s do it!”

“Do you really? You listen to the show?”

“Yes! I really do, I’m a fan since when I was learning English! I genuinely love Radio 1”

“No way! Just for that, I’ll let you choose the next song"

--

When the song died over it was time for the game.

“Hey! If you need a job, you can just come work here with us as international music sommelier, what you think about it?”

“Oh don’t even joke. That’s my dream job, honestly!”

“It’s settled them” The interview was going really well, and it was almost ending. “Alright, so our time is almost over. Shall we hear some unpopular opinions and send you all to the weekend with a pinch of wrath?”

“Yes please! Let’s hear them” The theme song started to play and you sang along. “Come and give us your unpopular opinion, something up to know you’ve been scared to say”

“That was great! And in the first try! You really are a listener!”

“Told you!”

“Ok so, first on the line we have Maya. Hello Maya? What’s your unpopular opinion?”

“Calling people bestie is cringe” The girl on the line said.

“Uh agreed” You said.

“You agree with her?” Greg asked you.

“Yeah. If it’s not ironically, it’s very cringe. Like calling your husband hubby”

“To be fair, most pet names are cringe” Greg offered.

“True, very true. Hey, love is cheesy. Nothing wrong with that. People in love are just not cool, have you ever met a couple that was genuinely cool?”

“No, I have not. Well, I mean…the Beckhams are cool.”

“Uh good one. I stand corrected. But can you imagine Victoria calling Dave ‘hubby’ or the other spice girls ‘bestie’?”

“Definitely not.” You guys laughed together, you were just being silly. “Good one Maya! Alright, next call is Kyle. Hello Kyle?”

“Hi! Flat watered down soda tastes good.”

“What?” You yelped. “Are you ok, Kyle?”

“And that’s why we call this segment ‘unpopular opinions’” Greg laughed. “Do you want to defend yourself there Kyle?”

“Not really, I just prefer it like that.” Kyle said and you and Greg laughed.

“You know what Kyle? You keep doing you. You might want to try some juice or iced tea, though. But you do you man.” You joked and Greg cracked up.

“That was great, I love it!” Greg said. “That will be all for today, don’t forget to check (y/n)'s new show this weekend and spam Netflix about how much we need more seasons!! And bring (y/n) to London Netflix!”

“Oh my god I loved it! Thank you so much for having me, I had the best time!” You thanked him. Music started to play and you took off your headphones. “Thank you, really. I was great!” You said directly to Greg.

“Oh don’t thank me! I really hope we’ll see you more! Come back always to promote the next seasons and projects!” He offered.

You got out of the studio and greeted David. “That was so much fun!” You told him.

“You’re killing it there ! Mission accomplished, finally! Are you coming back to the hotel or are you meeting with ‘the city’ from here?” He asked you using air quotes for ‘the city’ and smirking.

“I’m coming back to the hotel, thank you very much.” You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was just teasing you.

Chapter 5 it's fluffly london date and it was so much fun writing it, can't wait for you to read!

[sun-summoning]

@serafina-constantine​ -- re tinder au:  Aww I was hoping to get team sasuke’s reactions to them finally getting together 💖

ok here you go. everyone (not just team sasuke) is answering the same question: how do you feel about sasuke and sakura getting together?

i. karin and suigetsu

“wait, so why are we doing this?”

behind his video camera, naruto scowls at his cousin. his instructions were very simple and very clear and yet karin still needed to be a pain in the ass.

“because naruto wants to use this footage when sasuke marries sakura,” suigetsu replies instead.

“what the hell?” karin frowns. “is he...is sasuke going to propose to her? they’ve been dating for, like, five months!”

“the heart knows what it wants, karin.”

“the heart is illogical and--”

“sasuke isn’t going to propose!” naruto interrupts. “why would he do that?”

karin laughs. “the real question is why would sakura even accept?”

“true love?”

“tch.”

“anyway--” naruto clears his throat and nods to his camera. “answer my question.”

“answer mine!” karin snaps back. “tell the truth.” her smile turns devious. “are you actually going to try using this as retroactive footage at a wedding they’d have ten years from now? are you planning that far ahead? you loser.”

“of course not!” naruto denies. “and you’re definitely not giving me ideas!”

“what if you’re not his best man?”

“obviously i’d be his best man.”

“but he has a brother.”

“sasuke and itachi don’t have the same relationship that we do--you know what? just answer my question!”

finally, karin just sighs and looks at suigetsu. they both actually face the camera, now wearing looks of contemplation.

suigetsu goes first: “i didn’t really think he’d succeed.”

“really?”

“yeah, he’s so awkward, you know?”

“he is,” karin agrees with a wince.

“also, i assumed she’d just slap him? or get a restraining order?” suigetsu scratches his head. “i don’t know man--the whole thing was just a bit...weird. ya know?”

“but it was true love,” naruto says.

“maybe to sasuke. but maybe to a sensible girl that was just creepy.”

“maybe you’re wrong.”

“do you want my opinion or not?!”

karin shoves suigetsu and sends naruto a glare to stop him from fighting for sasuke’s honour as a stalker.

-

ii. hinata

hinata’s hands, previously stuffed into her pockets if naruto recalled correctly, were currently in front of her. she was in the process of trying to dislocate her fingers or something as she took quick nervous breaths.

“um.” naruto smiles at her and she turns red. “we can just, like, not do this if you’d prefer?”

“i--it’s okay!” she replies. “how do i feel about sasuke getting together with the girl he liked?” she grins, but it’s shaky and so clearly uncomfortable. “i’m glad.”

“that’s it?”

she blinks. “were you...expecting more?”

naruto grunts a goodbye and goes off to find someone shadier.

-

iii. shikamaru

shikamaru actually laughs in naruto’s face.

when he settles down, he shakes his head. “naruto, you wildly overestimate how much i care about sasuke’s love life.”

-

iv. juugo

“sasuke’s dating our bio tutor?” juugo scratches his head. “aw man! do you think she gives him a discount?”

“you make her sound like a prostitute, juugo.”

-

v. itachi and mikoto

naruto manages to get reactions from sasuke’s brother and mother when they find each other outside sasuke’s graduation ceremony. he’s off somewhere with fugaku taking photos of him like the proud father he is. and, if naruto saw correctly, sakura even stopped by briefly to leave a nice dusty rose mark on sasuke’s cheek.

“i’m pleased that he found his way to his tinder girl,” itachi tells naruto. “sakura makes sasuke very happy.”

“tinder?” mikoto echoes. “is that a game?”

itachi, the biggest whore naruto’s ever met, smiles softly. “something like that, mother.”

naruto makes a face of disgust. “have you met sakura yet, mrs. sasuke’s mom?”

mikoto raises an eyebrow at them. “naruto, i met sakura before all of you.”

“you did?”

“the work ethic in that girl is astounding. and she’s positively brilliant. she’s worked with some of the best researchers in our field--”

“this is boring,” naruto interrupts. he lowers his camera. “are you taking us out for dinner to celebrate that sasuke actually succeeded?”

mikoto shakes her head fondly. naruto’s been part of their family since he met naruto in primary school, so of course he’s invited.

-

vi. ino

“look at this bullshit.”

ino holds up her phone to show naruto sakura’s instagram page. among photos of various landscapes and meals and selfies, naruto notices a few with sasuke. quite a few with sasuke.

“aww.” he enlarges one of them and coos at the image of sakura smiling in a field of sunflowers with sasuke standing beside her looking as constipated as ever. “they’re so cute!”

“i know right!” but ino’s grin soon morphs into a scowl. “but he’s always around!”

“i mean he mostly just sits there on his phone looking at neko atsume. he’s actually really forgettable.”

“can i live?!” ino snaps. then she stops, her jaw dropping and her eyes widening. “fuck my life,” she whispers. “i’ve been spending so much time with sasuke through his stalking and then when sakura actually deigned to date him that i’m...picking up his habits.”

naruto pats her on the shoulder. “remember when we were younger and i used to say ‘believe it’ a lot?”

“yeah, i wanted to rip your tongue out.”

“okay, rude.”

“it was annoying--”

“let me get to the point!” naruto clears his throat. “anyway, one time sasuke said it too and it was basically the highlight of my adolescence.”

“that’s sad.”

“don’t be a bitch because you’re turning into sasuke.”

“i guess he’s alright,” ino concedes as she looks at her nails. “he’s a total loser and he’s so awkward, but...” she shrugs. “he makes sakura smile.”

-

vii. neji and tenten

“to be clear, we were never on this ‘team sasuke’ or whatever insipid name you’ve chosen as of two minutes ago.” neji hyuuga takes a sip of his tea for good measure. “but, i suppose, sasuke is an acceptable choice.”

beside him, tenten wears a tense smile. “what neji means to say is that we’re happy for them.”

naruto nods, uncomfortable in the presence of sakura’s friends. they were never really part of the tinder-turned-stalking phase of sasusaku beyond their comments on sakura’s instagram (to naruto’s knowledge, at least).

“are you though?”

neji opens his mouth to reply, but immediately grunts, and judging by the way he’s wincing, naruto can only imagine tenten attacked him under the tale.

“yes,” neji replies curtly. “so, so happy.”

-

viii. sakura

“how do i feel about sasuke and i getting together?” sakura echos, staring at him as though he’s the one who’s weird. “he makes me--” sakura shrugs. she looks down. “i’m happy?”

“why do you sound unsure?”

“i’m not unsure. i’m just uncomfortable.” she gestures to his phone. “you’re literally recording this.”

“i’m--” 

technically, footage of sakura wouldn’t be totally necessary to have in whatever video he might make ten years from now when sasusaku get married. sure, sakura saying how she’s super in love with sasuke (or whatever) would actually be a pretty cool ending to that potential video, ino had a pretty good line he could use there. 

sighing, naruto turns off his camera and puts his phone down the table. 

sakura nods in approval. “for the record, i know how the whole story went.”

“oh?”

“yes, from the tinder swiping to itachi’s little bet to him being afraid that i’m the type of girl who says i’m not like most girls.”

“yeah, he was scared of that.” naruto clears his throat. “also, i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

sakura rolls her eyes. 

“wait, so you know about all the stalking?”

she winces. “i hate that word.”

“sorry? i’m not the one who invented language though?”

“let’s go with recon.”

naruto waves a hand. “fine. so you know about all the recon?”

she nods and takes a sip of her drink. “sasuke told me. i think he figured it’d be better to tell me himself than let anyone else tell me instead.”

“controlling the narrative. smart boy.”

“hm?”

“nothing. scandal. anyway--” he taps his chin. “how come you aren’t, well, upset?”

that makes sakura laugh. she throws her head back and when the giggles peter down, the grin she wears is downright devious. “because then i’d be a hypocrite.” she winks at him. “do you really think i didn’t do my own research on sasuke when i finally got more information about him at ino’s party?” she leans in closer. “or that after we actually started dating, i didn’t do my research on his friends and family, naruto?”

naruto fights down a shudder. “what. the hell.”

“social media is a terrifying thing.”

-

ix. sasuke and naruto

naruto has already burrowed himself on the other side of sasuke’s bed, too scared to sleep on his own after a full day of reading creepy stories on r/nosleep. 

“i’m going to die.”

“you’re being an idiot.”

“no, i think there’s a ghost girl who’s going to come for me!”

sasuke makes the usual show of demanding naruto leave, but naruto just swaddles himself even more until sasuke goes to retrieve another blanket for himself. he throws that on the bed and laughs a little when it hits naruto.

naruto watches as sasuke goes about his evening routine from plugging in his phone to watering the succulent on his desk to putting it on his window sill so it can watch the sunrise. when he settles on the bed, he takes his phone back out like a classic millennial and opens his chat with sakura.

“i’m right here,” naruto tells him.

“but if i ignore you hard enough, you might disappear.”

“your life would be the worst without me.”

“it’d definitely be quieter.”

“and more boring!” naruto pokes him. “you should be more grateful, asshole. i’m the one who helped you find your tinder girl.”

“tch, no you didn’t.”

“you whored me out!”

“you would have whored yourself out either way.”

“you take that back!”

sasuke easily ignores him to message his ~*~girlfriend~*~. naruto wants to be insulted, but he can’t really blame sasuke. sasuke has always been terrible -- terrible -- at building and maintaining relationships. the fact that he now has a girlfriend who thinks he’s slightly more than passable as a human being is a wonderful thing. 

when sasuke finally turns off the screen of his phone, the room goes dark. naruto presses his head against sasuke’s shoulder partly because he’s feeling affectionate but mostly because he’s scared of the dark after all those creepy stories on reddit. 

he ignores the way his best friend grunts. “hey sasuke?”

“hm?”

naruto pauses. they don’t do mushy, but naruto wants to tell him, “i’m really happy that you found sakura.”

“oh.” he hears sasuke shift as he nods. “me too.”

“she’s a good match for you. and she’s...nice. she really likes you.”

“yeah.” sasuke clears his throat. “i. um. i really like her too.”

“good.”

“naruto?”

“hm?”

“thank you,” while normal people might go in for a hug in this moment, sasuke shoves naruto back to the other side of the bed, “for helping me find sakura.”

“of course.” he’ll always have sasuke’s back, and he knows sasuke will always have his. 

naruto grins up at the darkened ceiling, unafraid of the potential of ghost girls looming down on him -- not with his best friend by his side. 

[skyfallensoldier]

Mobile Navigation || Rules & Mun ↓

DISCLAIMER: I just want to note here at the beginning that while I am considering this RP blog to be historically based, i.e. remaining true to the time period and overall details of John Laurens' biographical information and whatnot, I do not consider myself a historically accurate blog, not entirely. Historical fiction is a well known genre of literature and many, MANY creative liberties are taken within that genre. Think of this blog like you would if you saw an Anastasia Romanov blog. She's dead, we know she didn't survive, and she's been dead a long-ass time; so has Laurens. People still have included her in many works of fiction, even after her body was identified and it was proven she did not survive her family's massacre. I saw a romance book a couple of months ago where she survived that was recently published. Historical fiction, while a controversial thing at times, is a legitimate form of literature.

You don't have to tell me if you think John isn't acting exactly like the real man himself would have, I know that. I'm not going to call John my 'perfect sunshine boy cinnamon roll' or dismiss the privilege he was raised on due to his father, I'm aware he was a real person who had his own personality, virtues and prejudices. I won't deny that while he was certainly a progressive thinking man for the time he grew up in he definitely still had racist thoughts and actions that were indicative of his upbringing. But I'm not on here to debate modern, real life politics, or get into arguments about whether he was a good abolitionist or not. At the end of the day, this is still a hobby for me, and I'm writing for fun.

Basically, don't take it too seriously. I'm a 21st century bisexual woman writing from the POV of an 18th century (likely gay) male soldier, the way I write him is obviously not going to be a perfect representation of who he was. I know he wasn't an amazing, perfect person, but I've still chosen to write a fictionalized version of him for my own entertainment. Please try to respect that; thank you.

Mun Stuff

Name: Luna Gender: Female (She/Her or They/Them) D.o.B: July 23rd, 1996 Age: 24 Nationality: Canadian Sexuality: Bisexual Timezone: Eastern Time (US & Canada) Activity: Daily BIOGRAPHY (SORT OF)

Hello, there! You can call me Luna! I've been interested in writing ever since I first got the internet when I was 14 and discovered FanFiction.Net and now I'm an aspiring author and Roleplay enthusiast. If you include acting/talking out DnD like games with friends then I've been 'roleplaying' since the fifth grade, but I like to think there's always room for improvement. If you ever want to chat I'd love to make a new friend or plot out a roleplay, so don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or send me a private message. Just because my muse can be a jackass doesn't mean I am! I’m a huge advocate for mental health, and if you ever need someone to talk to, please don’t ever hesitate to reach out! Some of my hobbies including literature and writing (of course), digging into mythology from various cultures, practicing solitary eclectic paganism/new age spirituality, drinking tea, and collecting crystals/minerals.

Please note that for the sake of disclosure, I am considered ‘Neurodivergent’, in that I suffer from ADHD, diagnosed at about age six, and have Anxiety and Depression which are directly tied to it. This doesn’t often effect my life on here, but I sometimes have an unpredictable sleep schedule (stay up all night, sleep in late into the morning, etc). I’m usually quick to reply to threads for the most part! I work every Tuesday and Thursday from 5pm to 7pm in addition to odd jobs here and there, during which time I won’t have access to the Internet. The rest of the week I’m on and off all day basically, so you can feel free to contact me any time.

RP Style

⭐️ Please use basic spelling/grammar/punctuation when you RP with me. I'm not a drill sergeant about these kinds of things, I know that typos happen, and if you have a vision problem or such we can absolutely find a way to work around that, I also have no problem roleplaying with people whose first language is not English, so that's totally fine and I’m happy to accomodate in whatever way I can, but it does make it a little difficult to play with you if I don't know what you're trying to say. For this reason I prefer if you not use any text shorthand (lol, idk, brb, jk, etc) unless our muses are messaging each other. Using it in the tags is fine.

⭐️ I roleplay Laurens in a past-tense 3rd Person Point of View (think story-telling format), and generally I don't use icons or text formatting unless I notice my partner does, then I will try to match their style (for example if you use icons and small-text, I will try to do the same, though because formatting isn't possible on mobile, any mobile replies might take longer to be posted than if I were on my laptop). If you have any issues with how I'm writing or need me to adjust my style for any reason don't be afraid to ask.

Contact

⭐️ If you spam me with messages over and over again about something I haven't replied to, chances are I'll drop the thread. I don't mind being reminded because I know Tumblr's notifications are notoriously unreliable sometimes, and humans can forget/lose things, but if you keep poking at me after I've acknowledged you the first and second time, I won't be pleased. Things can get busy on here, or in real life, or sometimes you're just lacking muse for that particular thread, y'know? It doesn't mean I hate you and don't want to RP, I'm almost always up for plotting, but muse tends to fluctuate.

⭐️ My ‘Discord’ is available to mutuals upon request. I don't mind roleplaying on there if Tumblr is being glitchy or you're just not feeling up to formatted/heavily plotted threads, sometimes Discord is fun in that you can do immediate replies without needing the effort of putting icons and formatting into it. I also have a Kik but I never use it. I don't RP in Tumblr's IMs, that's purely for OOC interaction.

⭐️ I also occasionally stream movies/TV shows in group chats or play “in character” Cards Against Humanity game nights, Among Us, etc. If you’re interested, lemme know, I’m always looking for more people to hang out with!

Important

I have no actual triggers that I'm aware of, although snakes do creep me out (mostly shots of them coiled up or images of their pupils), but there are some things I will not roleplay personally for comfort reasons:

⭐️ Cannibalism. You can mention it, for example I won't freak out if someone tells my muse that somebody else ate a person (he might, assuming its not a Supernatural type verse), but I won't RP him engaging in cannibalism, not even in AUs (blood-drinking vampires are fine). I'm just not sure I could stomach writing about eating people. I managed to watch Hannibal, barely, but writing about it? Nah. I can handle lots of horror, gore and disturbing content but not this. Sorry.

⭐ Incest/Pedophilia. I do not SEXUALLY ship with characters under the age of 18. John is not attracted to children, and would never consider sleeping with someone much younger than him.

⭐ I will not write anything sexual with muns who are under 18 years old, even if your muse is an adult. I'll still ROLEPLAY with you if you are under 18 but probably no younger than 16 just because things tend to get explicit on my blogs and I don't want to be accused of corrupting the youth with my foul language and weird opinions, lol. Seriously though, this blog covers a lot of dark subjects and while I’m all for minors exploring that safely through writing rather than in real life, some people aren’t comfortable with interacting with under age people for legal or personal reasons, please respect that.

⭐ Necrophilia. Just... no. Vampire threads don't count, as they're undead and not 'dead dead'.

⭐ Rape. I won't write it with you. I'm okay with mentions of rape, with rape/sexual assault survivor/recovery plots, and even with one character intervening to rescue another from an attempted sexual assault (if an attempted assault does occur, it will be thoroughly tagged and under a cut). I'm fully open to discussing rape recovery/trauma plots as those are things that happen in real life, and it can be interesting to explore how a character reacts to trauma. But anything else is a no-go, sorry!

⭐ Please be aware that I write Laurens as a gay man. However! Because of the time period, violent homophobia and social stigma, he has slept with women before and may be seen flirting with or referencing relationships with women in the past. He is still gay, and still uninterested in being with women long term, he's simply closeted to all but a few individuals. So, unless your muse is Martha Manning (who Laurens DOES love in a manner, and he always will), shipping with female characters on here most likely isn't going to happen unless it's heavily plotted/developed and part of an overall plot, and you understand that it will not be a conventional sexual relationship. I'm sorry if that disappoints you but I've read Laurens as a gay male for so long I have trouble seeing him any other way.

⭐ I will not roleplay slavery plots. This is not up for debate. Roleplaying a highly fictionalized version of a long dead real person who existed during a troubling time is one thing, but I draw the line at that. For this reason, while I'll happily play with non-white muses, muses using non white faceclaims, and crossovers with characters of all sorts, I'll have to decline playing with any muse claiming to actually be writing slavery. There’s a difference between, say, roleplaying a character like Daenerys, a fictional character who was technically a slave-bride sold by her brother, and writing actual slavery from a very real, horrible time period. Slave ownership will of course be mentioned on this blog, that's unavoidable, but just like the mention of rape may happen on this blog from time to time, it will be in reference to a past event or speaking about the subject in general, not roleplaying a scene of it. Please respect this rule, I was hesitant to make this blog at first, because I know it makes some people uncomfortable, but I won't glorify such a horrible real thing that happened to so many people.

Exclusives/Mains

Just a head's up, unless I develop a bunch of chemistry with a particular portrayal of a muse I'm not likely to agree to being exclusives with anyone, unless perhaps it's a very niche or divergent character that has formed a good relationship of some sort with John and I'd have trouble interacting with other versions of that muse. For major characters I just feel it would be unfair to say no to someone who I click with in every other way, solely because I have already befriended someone else writing that character.

I will, however, discuss becoming mains with someone whom I've either developed or plotted out detailed storylines/interactions with regarding our specific portrayals of our characters. This means that I tend to reply to them quickly when I'm online, or may make little gifts (moodboards, aesthetic things, mini ficlets, whatever) for them unprompted, have a verse dedicated just to them, etc. Even if it seems like we haven't done much on Tumblr, there may be a lot of off-site development on Discord or whatnot that led to us plotting out intricate stories for our muses.

Current Mains:

Alexander Hamilton - @quillborn​

DO

⭐️ Send private messages.

⭐️ Send my character asks/starters/memes.

⭐️ Tag me in things.

⭐️ Ask to plot or ship.

⭐️ Ask for angst, fluff, etc.

⭐️ Submit things to me & my muse.

⭐️ Do crack and other ridiculous things with me!

⭐️ Like my RP threads.

⭐️ Like my personal posts.

⭐️ Comment on my personal/OOC posts (if you want to).

⭐️ Comment on my crack threads.

⭐️ Instant Message (IM) me if you'd like to talk, whether we're friends already or not!

DON'T

⭐️ Send hateful messages to me about other people and especially my mutuals; doesn't count if it's about the muse and not the person playing them, however. Also, if I’ve got beef with someone for whatever reason, don’t harass them/send hate to them on my behalf, please. I don’t condone anonymous abuse, attacking others, or harassment. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself, I promise.

⭐️ Introduce yourself with ‘wanna ship?’ For one, I prefer if we’ve at least started a roleplay together, or have spoken OOC. Auto shipping doesn’t always work out and I hate promising people something only to realize there’s zero chemistry, because then I feel like I’m letting them down.

⭐️ Come into my inbox with just ‘wanna rp?’ and that’s it. Please at least have some idea of what you want to roleplay, it’s not very fun when someone approaches you to RP but then doesn’t offer up any suggestions at all. Remember, you are always free to send me memes, whether we’re mutuals or not, and hit me up for whatever plot you think might interest me! I want to hear about it!

⭐️ Spam me with "reminder" messages if I've already acknowledged you the first few times.

⭐️ Reblog my RP threads if you're not a participant in them.

⭐️ Send me anonymous OOC hate. Hate for Laurens is fine, it's just another form of roleplay.

⭐️ Kill off my character or severely injure/maim my character without permission or having plotted something involving that with me first.

⭐️ Follow me if you're a porn blog. I don't mind blogs that post NSFW content, or smut a lot, etc. I mean blogs that aren't for RP and are literally just a normal looking blog until you click on it and the header and first twenty posts are hardcore nudity and porn. I hate those things.

⭐️ Shame my ships.

⭐️ Complain about my tagging. I put my smut under a 'read more' without exception and tag them as "NSFW //" with two dashes. Things that are not necessarily graphic but still have sexual undertones go under "Suggestive //". I use these tags to avoid attracting attention from porn blogs and porn bots that track certain key words, as such I do not tag my content with "Smut" or trigger words such as "dick, oral, anal, nudity, etc", please block my NSFW and Suggestive tags if you're uncomfortable. Triggery subjects (mentions of rape, animal abuse, torture, mental illness) will be tagged under the name of said trigger with a space and two dashes, example: "Self Harm //", “Suicidal Ideation //” or "PTSD //".

⭐️ Godmod my character. If you’re not sure what is/isn’t okay, come talk to me! I don’t bite! If you’re looking for an example of god mod behavior, here: “X lunged at Laurens, taking him by surprise, and hit him square in the nose, causing blood to spurt.” It might not seem like a big deal but it means that you decided how your character’s actions affected my muse, and not only that, didn’t give him a chance to dodge or anything. Not cool.

⭐️ Ship with me without permission (sending in shippy asks is A-Ok if you're interested in exploring a ship between our muses, I'm talking about things like claiming that our muses are in a relationship without discussing it with me, referencing dates or sexual acts that never happened, etc. I ship mainly with chemistry otherwise things get boring fast.

⭐️ Assume/act like our characters know each other/are closely connected (friends/family/lovers) if we've never discussed it unless it is established in canon/history. This especially goes for original characters. I'm open to Laurens forming deep relationships with OCs obviously, but those have to be developed in character, not just assumed from the first interaction.

⭐️ Attempt to roleplay with me if you are not a roleplay blog/or if you're just trying to RP as "yourself." I don't do Character X Reader imagines stuff. I don't RP with 'fan' accounts, only RP blogs. You can still send asks so long as you're not trying to initiate an RP scenario. For example, asking Laurens what his hobbies are, asking for a blessing etc? That's fine. Spamming me with different actions "you" are talking to Laurens is weird. Stop that. I will also not RP with blogs that claim to roleplay as real life people, such as Markiplier, that's super creepy. This does NOT apply to "historical fiction" roleplay (obviously since that's what this blog is), which is considered its own genre of literature. I'm talking about the above where people will 'roleplay' as real life, currently alive people like YouTube celebrities and ship them with their friends, even if they've made it clear that they're uncomfortable with it. 

⭐️ Get angry at me for doing something you don't like if you don't even have a rules page for me to go by. It's not fair; you can't expect your partners to just read your mind and magically know how you feel. If something bothers you let me know, I’ll make a note about it so I avoid it during our interactions!

⭐️ Use me as a meme resource blog without ever interacting with me. I don't require "reblog karma" for you to follow me, partners are more than welcome to reblog from me, but if we never interact and I just occasionally see you reblog fifteen posts from my meme tag and then disappear again I'm not gonna be happy. Go to the source or to an archived blog no longer getting notifications, please!

⭐️ Reblog my Meta/Headcanons. If they're from a different blog it's fine but the ones I've personally written are for MY portrayal of Laurens. I work hard on most of my stuff and I'd prefer if you didn't reblog it, not because you aren't allowed to have the same headcanon ideas as me, but because then it ends up getting liked or reblogged by lots of other people, spamming my notifications, etc.

OCs & Multimuses

I love OCs and multi-muse blogs (I have my own multimuse sideblog over at @historyremembers, which has other 18th century characters including the Hamilton children and some OCs), so feel free to interact! That being said, please have an about page of some sort on your blog. I can't follow back blogs that have absolutely no information available regarding their character(s). I don't RP with OC children of Laurens. This is nothing personal, but I'm fairly certain he was gay in real life and prefer to play him that way, and he only had one child - who he never even got to meet - in real life, so it just wouldn't make sense to me for him to have other kids running around unless he'd adopted some. If you're a multimuse, I may not follow you back if I'm only familiar with two of your muses if you have a blog of fifteen characters, simply because I'd prefer to keep my dash clean and only have characters/fandoms I'm familiar with on it. I'll still RP with you if you have a character I'm interested in! I just might not follow back if the majority of your characters I do not know, I apologize for this.

If you’ve made it to the end of this, congrats! I know it couldn’t be easy (my ADHD brain was frustrated trying to just write all this up) but it’s necessary so there’s not misunderstandings on what I am/am not willing to RP. I won’t ask for a password since I trust most people to have the courtesy to at least skim the rules of those they want to RP with. 

Have a nice day!

[arcenciel-par-une-larme]

Before anything else, I would like to ask my brothers and sisters in Christ, IN ALL HONESTY, whether I erred in any way in the reply which I offered to this original post (there was also an intermediate reply which I did not include into the screenshots; either way it was OP who replied to me). (@ignorant-against-christians @anscathmarcach @doctorbluesmanreturns @bagheadautist @a-quiche-in-med @anotherpointlessargument @strawberry-milktea and anybody else who might need to chime in, please feel free to PM me if you prefer that to reblogging all this mess.)

And while I'm awaiting that, let's dive right into the last reply and give OP a much-needed reality check. (Translation: let's try to set some things straight for anybody who is willing to listen, since OP has already declared themselves sinless, infallible and above reproach.)

Where are my children growing up that you think they’re not going to be interacting with Christians and being exposed to Christian theology on a daily basis? Hell, my children will have multiple Christian family members, as well as several queer Christian honorary aunts and uncles. Also, you know, a Catholic-educated mom.

It isn't all that much of a good sign when literally the first paragraph in your reply is a mile-long appeal to false authority.

First of all, it is completely inane to consider my response as personally addressed to you. I didn't even reblog it from you or tag you.

Secondly, please accept this PSA: Having Christian friends does not make you an authority on Scripture. Nor does having a Catholic-educated (not even practicing Catholic) mum. In fact, if the state of millennial liberal "Christianity" online is any indication, it is very much a possibility that your "Christian friends" might very well be teaching you that "Yeah, basically atheists are right in all that they say about Christianity, but I'm a good Christian and I love Christ and I don't believe any of that outdated stuff that's in the New Testament!" in which case, yeah, the fact of the matter is that you WON'T be getting an accurate image of orthodox Christian theology from your friends, or from your mother who might very well have prayed her latest Rosary when she graduated high school.

You have completely misunderstood the point of this post if you think the above beliefs (which are overwhelmingly held and spread by Christians and ex-Christian atheists, not Jews) have the same negative effects on Christians that harmful beliefs about Jews have on us.

Right. So, in other words, you didn't want to draw attention to and decry anti-[whatever religion] slander and, in the course of that, also spread awareness of common anti-Judaism lies. You just wanted to compete in Oppression Olympics, and to virtue-signal your victimhood. Yeah, how dare I assume that you wanted the former just like any virtuous human being! HOW DARE I assume that you're not an intellectually dishonest SJW! THE HORROR!!!

Also, nice job pretending that you're "fair" and "not bigoted" when you try to blame CHRISTIANS for the ANTI-CHRISTIAN bigoted lies which are commonly propagated.

And again, the only reason that you think I blamed these beliefs on Jews is, as it seems, because you want me to mean that. Because you want to score oppression points. In reality, I made it perfectly clear that it is of no importance whether the person peddling anti-Christian slander is Jewish, atheist or whatever else; but that is something which either you missed entirely or you deliberately refuse to acknowledge.

Christians might not be uniquely bigoted, but you damn well are uniquely powerful in western countries, and with that comes unique responsibility, to paraphrase Uncle Ben.

Why didn't you just go the full "Check your Christian privilege, we live in a Christian hegemony, one can't be bigoted against Christians, a minority cannot oppress a majority, PREJUDICE PLUS POWER!" route from the get-go so we can know where we are standing, then?

This is a perfect example of why I shall always insist that

At the Oppression Olympics, nobody wins.

Because you looked at my response and you immediately saw not a complementing opinion (which it is), but a competing one. You saw an opponent, and in your mind you cannot be anything short of 100% right a priori, because of course it's a competition. Of course oppression and injustice are a zero-sum game.

Only in real life, THEY ARE NOT.

Any rational Christian, and any rational Jew, is horrified both by anti-Christian and by anti-Jewish bigotry. You, on the other hand, insist upon trying to find the "bigger victim" at all costs. And from your reply, it seems fairly certain that you had no rational reason to do that. You just wanted to downplay the injustices and slander which is aimed against Christians. It almost reads as if you vehemently refuse to even remotely sympathise.

By the way, I think that Devin Kelley, Chris Mercer, and Floyd Corkins (among others) might be some names which ought to debunk your opinion that anti-Christian bigotry has no tangible real-life effects.

Oh, but I forgot. "Prejudice plus power"...

I have every intention of teaching my children about different religions, but this reply was obviously in bad faith and just about jacking off your persecution complex as part of the poor, downtrodden 80% majority.

THERE WE HAVE IT!!! THERE IT IS!!! I F***ING CALLED IT. HEAVEN FORFEND IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN ONCE. "A majority cannot be oppressed!!!! PERSECUTION COMPLEX!!!"

At this point, your rhetoric is barely distinguishable from an "AtheiSJW bingo" of sorts, or from the inane hate asks that we get at anti-christophobia...

I don't know why I expected any better. Maybe because I DARED to assume the best about you. Yeah, what a heinous thing to do...

And OF COURSE it must be true that I came into this in bad faith. Of course. Why? Because you say so. Because it's a JACKPOT for you. You've found before yourself the perfect chance to set the scene with me as "Le Mr. Evil Bigoted Christian" and score brownie points, and BY GOLLY you aren't going to let such an opportunity go to waste!! I mean, WHO EVEN CARES about such trivial technicalities such as TRUTH...

..........and in the wake of all this, you have the gall to accuse ME of playing Oppression Olympics???

Can your projection and intellectual dishonesty get any worse?

And the PERFECT FINALE of inimitable intellectual and moral superiority:

Do not interact with this post further.

Classic pigeon chess strategy. No comment needed.

-

Again, for what I have done amiss in this whole story, I apologise sincerely. My mistakes, however, do not bar me from calling out the errors of others and defending myself against unsubstantiated charges or pointing out their bigoted behaviour.

As for the potential few idiots who shall hasten to accuse of antisemitism (for whatever contrived BS reason their sick brains might conjure), do not even bother. Antisemitism is one of the many kinds of bigotry which I have decried in the past and shall continue to decry, and thus I do not automatically become guilty of the same bigotry just because I do not self-flagellate for being Christian and I refuse to bow down to your short-sighted, sociopathic cultural Marxist dogma of competitive victimhood.

God bless you all.

UPDATE: A few mere hours later and OF COURSE another Bingo square was checked off: I have been blocked. Should I pretend to be surprised?

[wormbook22]

Hello world... again

Hellooo,

Thank you for finding me! \(^o^)/

This blog is mostly to promote my favorite arts & music, plus some stuffs about audio production (technical or not).

I used to have another blog on the same topics under the same name. However, due to some issues with Tumblr support (nothing illegal I swear o.O), I now need to create another one.

What you’ll find here:

Reviews of mostly non-mainstream musicians and their works (albums, singles, soundtracks, lives, operas etc.)

My journey of sound exploration, including discussion of music genres, recording techniques, instrument design etc.

(Sometimes) Other stuffs: books, art films, anime, paintings, comics, manga, sculptors, 3D rendering etc.

MINIMAL shitposting. I may post #random things and #announcement from time to time. The truly irrelevant stuffs are marked with #please ignore. Just block them.

I aim to churn out contents once every week for short posts (starting Aug this year), but more in-depth stuffs may take months, as I’m rather busy irl.

Now, here are some house rules before I start with the juicy posts:

1. Non-mainstream music?

That’s over-generalizing a bit, but I like weird stuffs from different genres all over the world. If it’s done right to me, it doesn’t matter if it’s jazz, pop, house, avant-garde, classical, hip-hop, soundtrack stuffs or whatever in-between. A few examples (not in any order): Kajiura Yuki, Ennio Morricone, Billie Eilish, Sergei Rachmaninoff, Björk, Agust D, Ulrich Drechsler, Hanoi Duo.

With that said, I’m quite biased with a mix of powerful female vocals, stuffs in minor keys & lots of evolving counter melodies. Sure, each of those do typically appear in mainstream music, but I tend to prefer more eclectic combinations of them. I’m sure I’ll unconsciously cover more people like that.

You’ll likely discover lots of weird people here. Do follow official channels of those who interest you! :D

2. Sound exploration...?

Well, after having too much time for introspection during Covid-19, I’m thinking of switching career to something along the line of foley artist or sound engineer. No idea what I want yet, so I’m exploring possible professions. Since this is a music-related blog, I just want to share my journey, haha.

Posts about this will have a separate hashtag so those not interested can ignore them. Topics will range from modding instruments, sound-making & recording paraphernalia, music theory, music history etc.

3. Weeb? NO. Maybe nerd at most.

In case someone spotted me mentioning “anime” and “manga” and thought “what if...”, no, I’m not into waifus, bishounen cults, or the other stuffs (you know what I mean)... Do not expect such contents here, though you can freely fangirl/fanboy about your favorite stuffs in the comment section (but keep it toxic-free plz) (^o^)/

I love many anime & manga series just as much as I enjoy Pan’s Labyrinth or NatGeo documentaries. I casually join fandoms, but I’m not hardcore and by no means an expert in anything. So do correct me if I get some facts wrong!

4. NO political stuffs, conspiracy theories, fan wars etc.

More like, I’ll keep potentially toxic stuffs to the minimum. I’ll still discuss them objectively if they’re relevant to the topic at hand. E.g. how a group’s disbandment may affect a musician’s solo career etc.

With all the crap happening in the world, we could do with a bit more positivity. And cooler heads. So I will NOT rant extensively about such things. And I WILL report such posts if I ever see them here.

I don’t care if you shitpost elsewhere. I do too. But please just spare this place...

Also, yes, it’s important to be aware of certain social issues.

However, I believe such things should be discussed with well-sourced information, clear illustrations and non-malicious intents. Not angry people throwing their opinions on the table, and sometimes throwing the table themselves. And more importantly, MUCH MORE IMPORTANTLY, social issues must be solved by consistently educating oneself and taking actions OFFLINE.

If you still wanna do that here, please please please switch to DM. I do want to have discussions with you.

Finally, I naturally stand at a respectful distance to my fav musicians.

I do get hyped and have expectations ahead of releases. But I’m not the type to directly message my favorite musicians, or queue up for hours to get their autographs. I also don’t collect merchandise or limited-edition items. I don’t go on “pilgrimages”. Just listening to their music, promoting them and supporting them financially (through streaming, buying releases, attending lives) is good enough for me. I don’t encourage this kind of behavior actually. Without avid fans, lots of musicians would starve... But this is just how I am. Plus, there’re just too many musicians I like. If I were too hardcore, I wouldn’t have time & resources to support them all xD

I’m interested in what they can share about their personal lives, but I don’t want to dig deeply into things that may disturb them. Unless they did something unlawful (not just morally questionable) that went unnoticed or unresolved (like smoking weed where it’s banned and not getting caught).

I love to discuss what make them spark as well as their flaws, casually but objectively. But I’m only human so biases is unavoidable. I always want to anticipate their next works or breakthroughs, if any, as long as their interest in making decent music is still there.

Liking their music doesn’t mean I need to like them as people. And certainly not love them romantically.

I sometimes need to compare some aspects of them (e.g. musical inspiration, background, how they’ve changed following financial success or failure etc.) But I’ll avoid that as much as possible, especially when it comes to music groups. A group is more than just its members.

All questions & gossip regarding opinions of fanbases should go to my inbox, and not anonymously (cuz I can’t reply you otherwise). I wanna keep this space clean, so I want to avoid fan wars & jumping to conclusions. Pretty sure it will happen eventually anyway, one way or another...

Wew, that sure is a lot of text *sweats*. Hope I’ve made it clear to you and myself what this blog will be like.

Please anticipate my next post around 2 months from now.

Thanks for reading. m(_ _)m

[silveryinkystar]

Reunions: Peacemaker Edition

Pairings: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

Summary: The Doctor and Martha take a trip to the Wild West, uncovering a deep plot along the way. Meanwhile, a young teacher named Jenny Forrest meets someone new in town, a woman named Marion. There might be more of a connection between these events than might have been expected...

Based on the DW novel ‘Peacemaker’ by James Swallow. Canon divergence, featuring the Doctor, Martha, and a dimension hopping Rose.

Tagging @doctorroseprompts because this technically is a post-Doomsday reunion fic

Read on Ao3

Jenny hitched up her skirt lightly and carefully navigated across the muddy street to avoid getting even a speck on her. On her way, she passed a few young women, bar girls who stopped to wave at her before resuming their preparations for the street party that evening. She smiled back politely, adjusting the bundle of books so that they wouldn’t slip and fall onto the aforementioned muddy ground. The sheriff stopped her with a “Good morning, Miss Forrest.”

“Sheriff Blaine,” she greeted.

“And how’s the day been treatin’ you, might I inquire?”

“I’ve had a minor windfall,” she said, gesturing at the books. “After Mr. Toomey’s passing, his widow donated these to the schoolhouse library.”

“The sour old fella was good for something, then,” Blaine said. They exchanged some small talk about the school, the deceased man, and the festival. Just as Jenny was about to say her farewells, Blaine asked, “How’s our newest resident doin’? I understand she’s stayin’ with you?”

“She is,” Jenny affirmed. “She’s adjusting well enough, I daresay, given that she’s only been here a week. She helps me out at the school,” she added.

“I see,” Blaine said neutrally. “I hope to see you at the festival tonight, Miss Forrest.”

“Perhaps, if I get finished in time.”

He tipped his hat and walked off. “Hold you to that, ma’am.”

Jenny turned the corner down the side street, keeping a steady pace. She stopped, hearing an odd noise on the breeze, like the grating of a large pair of bellows, or the winter wind rasping through the trees. It was loudest when she passed the Assay Office, seemingly in the alley behind it. For a moment, she felt a wild curiosity and wished to go and investigate the source of the noise, but the feeling passed and caution won. She turned and walked away briskly. It was probably nothing, anyway.

...

Jenny cut herself off from her musings when she heard two unfamiliar voices ahead of her. A man and a woman, English, by the sound of their accents. The man was hatless, and had his hands buried in the pockets of his long brown coat. The woman at his side wore an oxblood jacket and had hair that was tied up such that it resembled the man’s own, that is, it stuck up everywhere. Jenny wasn’t sure exactly what about the woman’s ensemble struck her as odd, but the style of clothing reminded her of her new friend’s own when she had first arrived.

The two paused in their conversation and the man seemed to sense that she was there, as he turned and smiled wanly at her. “Hello there! This might sound like a silly question, but, uh, where are we?”

Jenny flushed, embarrassed that she had overheard their conversation. “This is Redwater,” she said. “You’re new to the town, then?”

“Oh, yes.” The man grinned. “Very new. Brand new, even.” He seemed pleased at his own joke. She took his proffered hand and shook it. “Hello!” he said again. “This is my friend Martha Jones, and I’m the Doctor.”

She smiled back, finding his open manner infectious. “Miss Jenny Forrest, at your service. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Jones, and Doctor, uh--”

“Just Doctor,” he replied. “Redwater, is it? Splendid! I love the place names in this part of the world.”

Her brow furrowed. “I didn’t know we had new arrivals. The stagecoach from Dekkerville isn’t due for another week or so.”

“We, uh, rode in,” Miss Jones said hesitantly. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Of course. We had someone else arrive just last week, actually,” Jenny added. “Doctor, while it is always stimulating to have someone of your learning visit our township, I must confide to you that if you’ve come having heard of our epidemic, your journey has been wasted.”

“Epidemic?” Miss Jones’ smile creased into a frown.

“Really? And why is that?”

“The sickness was cured,” Jenny said.

“What sickness would that be?” Martha asked suspiciously.

“Why, the smallpox, of course.”

...

Jenny walked into the parlour, balancing the cups of strong black tea in her hands as carefully as she had the books. The Doctor looked up when she walked in, and accepted his cup with a smile and a thank you.

“It’s the least I can do for visitors,” Jenny said, remembering the years of lessons her parents had drilled into her. “Tell me, do you have lodgings? I can recommend Mrs. Lapwing’s boarding house just over yonder.”

“Thanks,” Martha said.

The Doctor said nothing save a comment about Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. He had abandoned his tea in favour for helping her sorting out the books.

“Doctor,” Martha said pointedly, “Perhaps Miss Forrest can shed some more light on what we were just talking about?”

“Oh, call me Jenny, please,” she said. “Did you have a question?”

“The sickness you mentioned, you said it was cured.”

She nodded. “That’s quite correct, although the manner of it was beyond me.” She frowned. “My friend, who came here last week, she found this suspicious as well. She thought – and I agree with her – that this so-called miracle worker has quite a few secrets he hasn’t yet unveiled.” She paced the length of the room. “Doctor, Miss Jones, every encounter I have had with these peddlers with their apparent patent cures, these powders or philtres for what ails you, they have all been nothing more than confidence tricksters...”

“But?” the Doctor prompted.

“He came into town a couple of weeks ago, in a gaudy wagon with an Indian youth as his travelling companion. He set up a stand across from the Bluebird saloon. At first it was merely magic tricks, using long and complicated words to dazzle the less educated members of the community.”

“You’re talking about a medicine show,” Martha realised.

The conversation continued for a while longer, with her handing over her bottle of the cure to the Doctor, who rushed off to conduct his experiments, which was well and good, since she wanted a second opinion on the credibility of this cure. She shared her friend’s suspicions on the origins of this medicine, and while she had bought a bottle for the school (it never hurt to be prepared for another outbreak), she did not want to harm her pupils, regardless of how many times the cure had been tried on her fellow townsfolk.

Jenny decided to show Miss Jones around the town, as her guide for the length of their stay. The young woman seemed genuinely interested in the history of their small town, and listened earnestly as Jenny slipped into her role as teacher. Her explanation on why the soil was its ruddy shade could not have been less interesting (it came from the preponderance of iron in the local hills), but Martha still listened, though an amused smirk had settled at the edge of her lips now.

She engaged Jenny with questions about the town, and as the sun crept below the horizon, she spotted a familiar figure walk up to them. “Marion, how have you been?” she greeted.

“It’s rather hot, actually,” Marion replied ruefully. She swept her blonde hair back under her hat.

“I suppose that’s what you’d get for walking in the afternoon heat,” Jenny chastised.

“And where have you been all day?” Marion retorted, raising a brow.

“Showing our new visitors around, actually.” Jenny gestured towards Martha. “This is Miss Martha Jones. Miss Jones, Miss Marion Smith.”

“I prefer Marion,” Marion said, proceeding to greet Martha.          

“A pleasure to meet you, Marion,” Martha said.

“Marion, you are accompanying me to the festival tonight, are you not?”

“I am, definitely,” Marion said. “I was just going to change, actually.”

“That reminds me,” Jenny muttered, sweeping a gaze across Martha’s strange garb. “Would you like to change into clothes that are a little more… conventional?”

“What’s wrong with this?” Martha brushed off her jacket. “It’s my favourite. Got it in a sale at Henrik’s.”

Marion jumped slightly at the name, eyes narrowing. Jenny frowned at her, concerned, before turning back to Martha. “In these parts, dress is sometimes more conservative than you might be familiar with.”

She coloured slightly when Martha eyed her own long black bustle, and Marion’s brighter shade of rose. “I wore something like that a little while ago. It wasn’t really my style, if you know what I mean. I’m okay with my jacket and jeans.”

Marion’s brows lifted and her gaze focused, scrutinising, at the younger woman. Jenny decided to ask her about this later, a passing thought reminding her that her new friend had been clothed incredibly similar to Martha. So was the accent, actually, though she’d forgotten about it when she’d almost instantly adopted the inflections of their own town.

“Of course, I didn’t mean to be rude,” Jenny said hastily.

Martha smiled. “I bet you’d look brilliant in a miniskirt and a crop-top,” she told her.

Marion’s brows seemed to be doing a fine job of melding with her hairline, but she shifted her gaze, speculative. “You would,” she murmured, so soft that Jenny almost missed it. Martha would definitely have not heard it.

“A crop top,” Jenny repeated. “Is that like a bustle?”

“Kind of, yeah,” Martha said, turning away with a quick grin.

Jenny glanced at Marion, who was aggressively shaking her head and mouthing ‘no.’ Jenny giggled at her friend’s antics, leading Martha away with assurances to take her and her companion to the festival.

...

The Doctor adjusted the controls on the TARDIS absently, listening to Martha explain the events of the afternoon, more specifically, what had happened with Nathan in the schoolhouse. “Nathan was terrified,” she said, “and that big lunkhead Joe didn’t help matters by dragging him off.”

“Mmm,” was all the Doctor found himself able to say, with the rate at which he considered and dismissed his various ideas about what exactly was going on. He didn’t like any of his theories just then.

“Have you been listening to me?” Martha asked suddenly.

“I pay attention to everything you say and do, Martha Jones,” he replied, without looking at her. “I don’t even need to look at you to know that you’re doing that face.”

“What face? I’m not doing any face.”

“Yes you are,” he said, still not looking, “The moral indignation, how dare they do that, just wait ‘til I get my hands on them face.” He glanced up and vindication seized him momentarily. “Yeah, that one there.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Okay, I am feeling indignant. But I’ve got a right to. First that loser Hawkes and then that smelly stable-guy…”

“What about me? I had a bloke waving a knife at me and an unfriendly sheriff in my face,” The Doctor countered, trying to diffuse the tension somewhat. “Mind you, this sort of thing does happen to me quite a bit. I should be used to it by now, I suppose.”

Martha hummed, and the two of them discussed the Pinkerton excuse his psychic paper gave him in the pub. The Doctor finished conducting his psychic resonance scan and only a single reading popped up. “Huh, I thought it would be bigger,” he muttered.

“You thought what would be bigger?”

“The signature,” he explained. “Normally, there would be a lingering sort of trace with all those who were affected. These scans… all I’m getting is the sign of a single telepath here. Seems to be inactive too, sort of... latent.”

“I think we should check it out,” Martha suggested, before a double knock made them both turn towards the door. The Doctor tapped the button that showed them both who exactly was outside – Miss Forrest, along with a female companion who was half hidden behind her. He supposed this was Marion, the friend Martha had mentioned in passing. His hearts almost stopped, though, when Jenny shifted, clearing the view of her face.

It couldn’t be…

He bounded out the door without a moment’s hesitation, ignoring Martha’s confused cry. Miss Forrest jumped back with a small squeak when he wrenched the doors open. “Doctor, I…” she trailed off, stepping back on noticing his expression.

“Rose?” He asked hesitantly. She stepped forward, lifting her skirts over her ankles so that they weren’t dirtied by the mud, fully into the light of the TARDIS. He moved forward as well, unbidden but not unwelcome. “Is it…”

“My Doctor,” she said, the corner of her lips creasing into a smile. “I thought I could sense you.”

“How – you’re the telepath,” he realised. “How?”

“Bad Wolf,” she said, shrugging. “I know you have questions, Doctor, and I will answer them all after this-” she gestured vaguely around them –“is sorted out.”

“Good call,” he murmured. “I’ve missed you, Rose.”

“And I’ve missed you.” She stepped into his outstretched arms and held him tightly. Too soon for it to be okay, she extricated herself gently from his embrace, turning back to Miss Forrest, who – right, they weren’t alone – appeared to be holding back several questions.

“Jenny?” Rose prompted. The schoolteacher shook her head.

“I believe I could wait awhile for answers. The four of us happen to be the only ones who have any remote chance of getting to the heart of this,” she added. The three others nodded automatically. “I sought you out because I was worried about Nathan. When Miss Jones--”

“Martha.”

“When Martha found him today… I have never before seen him so shaken. I fear a firm hand is exactly the opposite of what he needs at this moment.”

“Nathan has the dreams,” the Doctor reaffirmed. “Was he the first one to get them? Was he healed first?”

“Right after the Lesters, yes,” Jenny said. “He took the cure before the rest of the townsfolk.”

An idea started to take shape in his mind, nebulous and vague, but an idea nonetheless.

“Longest incubation period, maybe?” he suggested to Martha.

“How about making a house call, Doctor?” she said by way of reply. The Doctor smiled, lopsided, before stepping back to let her take the lead with Jenny. He walked by Rose’s side, for the dual reasons of getting answers of her return and for the long-missed joy of being able to be with her.

They let the others remain a few paces ahead of them, and Rose appeared to be more than happy to take his outstretched handing hers. They fit together perfectly, and he supposed he must have made some sort of contended sound because she smirked up at him with mirth in her eyes.

“This reminds me of Cardiff,” she remarked, and he wondered how he’d forgotten the warmth that filled him whenever she referenced any of their trips before his regeneration. Of course, this entire situation was nothing like their visit to Cardiff: for one, they hadn’t met any famous authors around town, or get locked up in a dungeon – actually, it was best not to think of that. The Doctor didn’t want to hold up wrapping up this matter and spending the next few days in the TARDIS alone with Rose.

The empty ring box which had once held the ring that he’d given to Donna burned in his pocket, a phantom memory. He’d never asked for it back, not caring whether the young woman had kept it as a keepsake or discarded it, but he’d had another one as a spare, in his – their – room in the TARDIS, knowing full well that it would likely get destroyed during one of their escapades. He decided to take it out once their adventure was over, when the moment arrived. It made him think of missed opportunities. He fully intended to seize the ones that came this time through. He was, before he could reply, distracted by a terrible thought. “Rose, if you’re here, then—”

Rose bit her lip. “Like I said, I’ve got a lot to talk to you about.”

“I know, I know, but… Jackie and Mickey?”

“They’re fine,” she said firmly. “They didn’t want to stop me, it’s been years since—”

“Yeah,” he said, and frowned. “Hang on, years? It’s only been a few months here.”

“Doesn’t surprise me, somehow,” Rose muttered. “It had only been months when Mickey stayed back last time too.”

The Doctor nodded slowly. “There’s no way back, though,” he said, hushed.

“We’ll discuss that later,” she said pointedly, before turning to smile up at him. That look would be the end of him, he knew. It was irresistible, and he found himself falling in love all over again, delighted with the chance he’d gotten to spend what time he had with Rose with Rose, at her side, traversing the universe and making friends together (at her lead, always at her lead, because she was the absolute best at forming friendships).

“Doctor?”

“Yeah?”

“I – this might sound a bit weird to ask now, because we’re in the middle of… whatever this is, but…”

He waited, ever patient, for her to gather her thoughts. He would always wait for her.

“Before Canary Wharf, you told me about this bond that Time Lords made. You said that it was popular among married couples, so that they could keep track of regenerations. I suppose what I’m saying, no – what I’m asking, is if you will marry me.”

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, struck speechless by her request. It had been his intention to propose to her, but when the question was turned on him so suddenly, he found himself quite unable to respond, and thoroughly overwhelmed by the intensity of emotions flowing through him.

“It’s not the best proposal,” she said nervously, “but I don’t exactly have your flair for words.”

“I… I think you have the best ones, though. Words, I mean,” he added, aware of the way his voice had changed.

“And that means…”

“Rose Tyler, I would be the happiest person on – well, not on Earth –”

“In the universe?” she added cheekily.

“In the universe,” he agreed, “Marrying you would make me the happiest person in all of time and space.”

Rose smiled, and it was so soft, so full of love, that the Doctor simply had to step forward and pull her into a chaste kiss. She responded immediately, wrapping her arms around him to stay in a loose embrace even when they broke away, because believe it or not, they were still in the nineteenth century and public displays of affection were not exactly encouraged.

It was just as well, then, that they were passing through another alley. Besides, what had he been saying about seizing opportunities?

[thatsabae]

Payback - Jungkook | Chapter 5

genre: romance/comedy/friends-to-lovers

summary: “Revenge is sweet”, that’s what they say, and your plan is to find out if that statement is true. After finding out about your boyfriend’s infidelity, you seek after his lover’s boyfriend, cause mama always told you that sweets are better when shared. But first, you need to convince him to join you.

prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8 | chapter 9 | chapter 10 | chapter 11 | final

Jungkook: I’m almost there! [received: 06:35 p.m.]

“Okay, so, can you explain why we must take a long way?” Jin asks his friend, unsure, already regretting offering the ride sooner that day. 

Jungkook sighs, taking his attention away from his cellphone. 

“We need to pick up my friend. She’s waiting…” 

“She?” If he was shocked, Jungkook couldn’t tell, but he knew his friend well enough to tell that he was at least curious about it. Way too curious. “Calli knows about this friend that you need to pick up?” 

“She better not.” This time Jin couldn’t hide his shock. “Stop thinking about it. She really is just a friend. You will understand when she’s here”. 

Jungkook: One block away. [received: 06:37 p.m.]

Y/N: Already waiting! [sent: 06:37 p.m. / read: 06:37 p.m.]

Jungkook looked at the business building, and like you said, you were already waiting in front of it. He turned down the window and waived to catch your attention. Jin got closer to take a look before you reached the car. 

“Wait a second. Ain’t that the girl we saw…” 

“Yes. It’s her. She’s called Y/N”. 

“What is going on Jungkook?” 

That moment, you opened the door, and entered Jin’s car, closing it the fastest you could, to disturb even less the already slow and busy traffic. 

“Hey. Nice to meet you”. 

“You too, Y/N”. 

You take a long look at the inside of the car. Clean and smelling good. 

After a few moments of an awkward silence of staring Jin, then Jungkook, and after that, back to Jin again, in a never-ending circle, you chuckle. 

“So, where are we going?” 

“Uh, where should I take you?” Jin asked, looking at you through the rear-view mirror. You understand that he wasn’t expecting you.

“We are going to my place”. 

You can see the way Jin is looking at Jungkook, even if he’s not directly staring him like suddenly a second head grew at Jungkook’s neck. You hold back your laugh, not sure if he would mind being the object of your humor.

Jungkook turns a little bit, enough to look at you. 

“I think we should tell him. I trust him, he won’t tell her anything, also, he can help us”. 

You took another glance at Jin’s face through the rear-view mirror and could see all emotions passing his face. A smile grows in your face. Messing with him would be easy and pleasant. 

“As long as he doesn’t try to stop us. What we do is not that right, but also not that wrong.” You move closer to Jungkook’s face and whisper: “Are you sure we can trust him with our secret?” 

Jin makes a weird and nervous noise, and both, Jungkook and you, start laughing. 

“I can’t believe it. Jungkook, you know I will never approve it. I’m happy that you trust me that much, but I would prefer not to know.” His grip on the wheel gets tighter. “How am I supposed to face her again, after knowing it?” You keep quiet, seeing how much emotion he puts at his words. “How can you sleep at night doing it?”

“That’s what I ask myself, ever since.” You murmur. 

Jungkook sighs. 

“I told you it’s nothing like this. It’s actually, the very opposite”. 

You notice Jin’s shoulders, that before were straight and tense, fall when he realizes what his words meant. 

“What is happening?” He takes a quick glance at his friend. 

“Last week, I found out that Calli is seeing someone else. Since before we started dating”. 

“Which happens to be my boyfriend.” You add, remembering them that you’re still there. 

“Are you both sure?” Jin asks, trying to find a better explanation. 

“For our misery, yes”. 

“That’s how we met.” He explains. “Y/N knew who she was because when she inaugurated her clinic, they were invited. That happened before I was around”. 

“They’ve been having an affair since then?”

“I’m not sure. Probably.” You confess, feeling the ache in your heart again, but you don’t let it show. “But I found out four weeks ago. My cousin, Kimberly, went to a hotel with this guy she met. She saw Jordan entering it with a woman, I have a picture she took. She couldn’t tell if it looked romantic or not, but she sent me right away”. 

“That’s your proof? He could be talking about business, who knows”. 

You don’t even try to smile. 

“He told me that he had a Conference that whole weekend. Another state”. 

Everyone went silent in the car, thinking about the situation, but you still felt that you needed to expose your proofs. 

“I spent the first week crying and pitying myself, and these last weeks finding evidence, to make sure I wasn’t mistaken. And planning”. 

“So, she contacted me a week ago”. 

“I had a plan”. 

“We need your help, Jin.” Jungkook asks him, that was too absorbed in the story to realize that was a question he needed to answer. 

“What are you too planning and what’s my role in it?” 

“We’re just toying them until they realize that we know everything.” Jungkook finds a quick way of explaining. Jin stops the car, and you realize that you arrived already. “Your party, Friday…” 

“You just need to approach Jordan and tells him…” You start. 

“In your own way, it doesn’t matter how…” Jungkook adds to you. 

“That you don’t know my brother, you invited me because of Jungkook. That you met me with him. I will convince him, saying that it’s my brother’s friend party and you will tell him something different”. 

“Just do that in a way that will lead him to think there’s something wrong. Technically, we shouldn’t even know each other”. 

“If Calli asks you something, do the same, please”. 

“That’s all you’re asking? Lie to them? Easier said than done” Jin laughs. 

“You won’t be really lying.” You try. “It is true that I’ll go there because of Jungkook. You just need to insinuate that we know each other. That will be enough”. 

“I guess it won’t be that hard.” He looks at you, then at Jungkook. “You both are really sure you wanna do this?”

“We need to” Jungkook tells him, and his intensity surprises you. “We are not doing anything wrong”. 

You get out of the car and wait for Jungkook outside, while he’s still talking to Jin, giving them privacy. 

A few minutes later, he’s outside, and Jin drives away, telling you bye. 

“Do you think he will help us?” 

“Yeah. He never really liked Calli, anyway.” Jungkook hides his hands inside his pockets, and smile. “Let’s get in?” 

You only follow him through the giant apartment. 

The couple hours you spent at Jungkook’s apartment, served to not only found out that his house was just as disorganized as his car, but also that he was very talented and proud of his work. You saw all the covers he did or helped, and to your surprise, you had one of those books in your shelf. 

You talked about the plan, personal stuff, and you discovered you had a lot in common, way more than you imagined. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.” You tell him, checking your phone. It’s late, already. There are three missed calls from Jordan -you smile-, and two messages from your brother. 

“Why do you think they cheated us?” 

“What?” You didn’t pay attention to his question, worried about what your brother said. Your mom was already asking about you. 

“Yeah. Why did they cheat? Why do people cheat? Do you think they felt something was missing… or we’re not enough?” 

“Uh. I don’t know, I don’t think there’s a reason.” You thought a little about it, ignoring the open conversation with your brother. He could wait. “There’s no reason to cheat, people do it because they are not loyal, that’s all, I guess”. 

“I need to tell you this. Ever since you told me… I just can’t do it with her”. 

You pause the in the middle the reply you were writing to your brother. Was Jungkook really talking about that, with you? So casually? With you? 

Okay, you both had been talking non-stop since the week before, but it was too soon. You couldn’t even talk this open with your best friends, imagine talking with Jungkook. 

“Can’t… what?” You had to be sure. 

You knew your eyes were probably bigger than your own head, but apparently, he didn’t realize how shocked you were, because he kept talking. 

“I can’t have sex with her. I just keep thinking about them, together, I can’t… I think she’s starting to think about it, but I didn’t want to give her clues before the big show.” He pauses, not looking at you, not seeing your shock. “Please, don’t think it’s because I’m possessive, it’s just… The Lie. What about you? You found out sooner. Are you having sex with Jordan like always?” 

You felt your mouth dry and your face red. 

Oh no.

“We didn’t reach that step, yet.” You whisper, hoping he wouldn’t hear what you said and would drop the subject, moving to… It didn’t matter. You dare to take a look after his silence, and by his face, you know he heard you. Very well.

The moment Jungkook opened his mouth to give his opinion, he was interrupted by your phone, ringing. Saved by Taehyung.

“Is it hard to just reply? Mom is starting to make questions that I can’t answer. Will you come to dinner or not?” Your brother sounded tired. 

“I will, Tae. Tell her that I’ll be there before she finishes spelling my name”. 

“Do you want me to take you home?” Jungkook asks you, with his voice at a normal level, and you scold him mentally. 

“Where are you?” Taehyung asks, whispering, suspicious. “Are you with Jordan? It doesn’t sound like him”. 

“No, not Jordan. Tae, can you pick me up? I’ll text you the address, okay?” 

After ending the call, you stare at Jungkook, mad. 

“Thanks to you, now I’ll have to make up a story to my brother”. 

“Just tell him the truth”. 

“I can’t. He’s too honest, he won’t be able to act the same if he sees Jordan. We can’t risk”. 

“So…” Taehyung started and you closed your eyes, already knowing what he wanted. Like a dog to the bone, there’s no way he would let you go without an interrogatory. “It’s the same guy from last week?” 

You regret letting him see you leaving the house, way too late on Saturday, to go eat a burger with Jungkook. This was getting out of your control. Too many regrets.

“Yes. He’s a friend, but not that close, that’s why you haven’t met him yet”. 

His eyes were on you, you could feel it, but the streets seemed more interesting than ever. 

Taehyung made a dissatisfied noise. 

“Okay, then. Say whatever you want”. 

You: Situation under control. [sent: 09:22 p.m. / read: -]

You: Everything is okay for Friday? [sent: 09:25 p.m. / read:-] 

[blustersquall]

Only Make Believe // Chapter 29: Honest Truth

It’s a new month, so here’s a new chapter for those reading. The chapter is available on AO3 for those who prefer it there.

Not major tags, this chapter is nsfw though.

December 29th, evening

--

After leaving Nevena to continue her conversation with Roselyn, Cullen occupied his time with a brisk walk around the deck of the ship. He realised it would probably take him an hour or two, at least, to walk a full circuit, and returned inside to find what options were available to he and Nevena for their one night aboard.

Cullen did not like this setting at all. He’d only travelled by ship a few times and could not recall any of those times being a pleasant or easy experience. While none of his trips resulted in him actually being sick, he knew he was more comfortable on solid ground, rather than with the horizon bobbing up and down in every direction. Inside, it wasn’t so bad. It almost felt normal and sturdy to walk around, but the thought was niggling at the back of his mind that beyond the doors there was just open water.

He tried to focus more on what attractions the ship offered to its guests. In every corner or hallway there was a café or a kiosk serving food and drink. There were small shops selling basic amenities and anything a guest might have forgotten, like toothbrushes, swimming goggles, trashy holiday novels, and inflatable pool toys – which Cullen thought were out of place on a cruise where he and Nevena were probably the youngest people aboard.

Almost all the guests he passed were in their golden years. Older couples walking arm in arm, chatting quietly, or groups of men and women all talking over each other and vying to be heard as they explored. Cullen thought a cruise was something his parents would have enjoyed before they passed away. They always talked about wanting to travel, but never made it beyond the borders of Ferelden. His parents were often like that. Always talking of doing something, but always too afraid to do it, finding excuses where ever they could.

His sister Mia was the same. Last time he spoke to her she talked about wanting to take a holiday to Antiva with her children, but Cullen knew she wouldn’t. She’d stay in Ferelden and if he asked, she’d say it was too expensive, or that she didn’t want to go alone. Sometimes his sister frustrated him, but she was stubborn and nothing he or their other siblings said would change her mind.

On his wandering the ship, he found a few cocktail bars on different decks, a huge event room that was decorated with a gaudy gold and purple colour scheme, complete with streamers and over-sized bows on the backs of chairs. Set up at one end of the room on an elevated platform was space for an on-ship band that looked to be setting up as part of the entertainment.

The restaurants all specialised in different cuisine and were located all together on one deck for ease of access. The one that appealed most to Cullen was a place called The Stoneham. It seemed the least pretentious – which made it a winner in Cullen’s opinion, and was one of the less formal looking of the restaurants. Also, the portion sizes looked reasonable. The pictures in the menus of the other restaurants showed tiny, beautiful delicate plates of food. Probably delicious, but not filling and leaving a meal still hungry seemed to defeat the object.

He sent a text to Nevena to ask her opinion with a quick picture of each menu. She replied that she trusted his judgement. Cullen gave her directions to where The Stoneham was and chose to wait there for her. He stood to one side, giving other patrons plenty of room to come and go. Several groups of older women came by, stopped to look at the menu, and several of the women spent time looking at him. Cullen tried to ignore them, smiling politely if he accidentally caught the eye of one of them, and then looking at his phone to avoid further eye contact, hoping Nevena would turn up soon.

“On your own?” Cullen barely concealed a grimace when he heard the question being put to him, and the older woman’s voice that went with it.

“No,” he put a smile on his face, not wanting to be rude. “Just waiting for—“

“You can sit with us.” The woman nodded to her group of companions. Seven other women stood not five feet away and inching closer. They were all dressed in expensive clothing that reminded Cullen of the clothes Katrin wore when he saw her. The woman speaking to him beckoned them over. “Handsome fella like you shouldn’t be waiting alone. Mr…?”

“Rutherford,” Cullen answered without even thinking about. Immediately he wanted to take it back. “And, thank you – but I am waiting for someone.”

“Rutherford.” The woman said again. Cullen found himself surrounded in a sea of faces and strong perfume in seconds. “First name with that?”

“Uh—” Cullen shifted, feeling increasingly uncomfortable when a hand came to brush against his arm where his sleeve was rolled up to his elbow. “Just, Mr. Rutherford is fine.”

“Oooh! Like Mr. Grey!” One woman laughed, nudging her friend and earning a throaty chuckle in return. “I wonder if he has a toy room too!”

Cullen choked on the strong floral aroma and tried to project his voice to be assertive. “Please, I’m expecting someone in a minute.” He didn’t want to be rude to anyone, the women were harmless – just over eager. He was probably the youngest male guest on the ship.

“Who’re you waiting for? Your wife?” another woman asked.

“No ring.” A third.

“Not married!?” The second gaped and grabbed his left hand to check.

“I’m not yet married, no,” Cullen pulled his hand away, flexing his fingers and burning with embarrassment, “but I am taken.” He added with more conviction. Technically, it wasn’t a lie and it gave him a sense of pride to say so aloud. He’d not really realised it himself until that moment, but he was taken. He had been taken since that first meeting with Nevena. Saying it made it even more real to him. “My—”

One of the women cut him off with a shrill cackle that caused his teeth to clack together when he slammed his mouth closed. Several other women joined in the apparently hilarious joke Cullen missed and he began to look for a method of escape away from the voices and the hands that were touching and tugging his clothing without his consent.

“Cullen?”

His annoyance with the gaggle of women cooled when Nevena’s voice cut through the rising laughter. His eyes found her in seconds. People in the foyer of the restaurant seemed to have parted for her as if moved by some invisible force, and for good reason. She was a vision. Just looking at her, Cullen felt his throat go dry, his heart begin to race, and blood pump faster all in the same instance. He expected her to wear the same dress she wore on Christmas Day, simple and elegant. What she was wearing was something that looked as though it would be more at home in the window of a shop for lingerie and Cullen found he just wanted to take it off her there and then.

The pale ivory colour of the dress complimented the warmth of Nevena’s skin – and Cullen was sure would have looked completely sheer if not for a slip underneath it. There was subtle lace and beading detailed on the front and down to the hem that ended a few inches above her knees. The neckline scooped down exposing Nevena’s collarbone, neck, and shoulders. Her legs were bare and seemed impossibly long due to the flesh coloured heels she wore. A simple ivory coloured cardigan around her shoulders stopped Cullen from seeing if the dress had straps or not. He kind of hoped it had thin straps. The kind of straps he could roll off her shoulders while kissing her beautiful neck while he stood behind her in their cabin. And that her dress was the kind of dress that would just pool around her feet if he did that.

“Nev…” Cullen managed to breathe out.

She smiled, approached and the gaggle of women around him split apart for her. Up close he could see that she had makeup on that accentuated her already stunning eyes. Her hair, too, was different. Still down, and wild in appearance, but somehow stylishly messy.

Nevena placed a delicate hand on Cullen’s forearm and kissed his cheek – a feminine display of dominance and a gesture that Cullen found himself surprised and a little aroused by.

“Who are all these people?” Nevena asked, her tone soft. The group of women who were bothering Cullen moved away as soon as Nevena kissed him. The smell of strong perfume still lingered but he was able to relax now he wasn’t surrounded.

“I don’t know. They just arrived and wouldn’t leave me alone,” Cullen hissed back at her, unable to take his eyes off her while she watched the women a few feet away.

Nevena gave him a teasing smile. “Not enjoying the attention?”

“Ha,” snorted Cullen, “hardly. Besides,” he slipped an arm around her waist and put his lips close to her ear, lowering his voice so only she would hear him, “yours is the only attention worth having.” He felt a distinct shiver from Nevena beside him and noticed the hairs standing up on the exposed skin of her forearms. Her cheeks were pinker now, too. “I like your dress,” Cullen said.

“It likes you back,” Nevena replied without missing a beat, peering up at him with coy, yet somehow erotic innocence. He wondered how, exactly, she managed that. Managed to look at him so suggestively and yet say nothing of the sort… Maker, her dress was just begging to be slid down and off her body-- Catching his thoughts, Cullen cleared his throat, sure his cheeks were turning fire truck red. He scratched the back of his neck, exhaling heavily when Nevena looped her arm through his. “Is this where we’re eating?”

“I-if you approve.” Cullen waited while she perused the menu outside the restaurant for a few moments. “I had a look at the other places, I thought they’d be a bit much. But if—”

“This is fine.” Nevena shook her head, smiling. “There’s plenty here I can eat. Let’s go.” She gave his arm a light tug and he willingly followed her into the restaurant.

Immediately there was a swathe of noise, people talking, low, ambient music, the clatter of cutlery on ceramic. A delicious aroma of herbs and roasting food came from open kitchens where chefs were busy at work. The restaurant itself had a rustic aesthetic, almost like an old-fashioned farmhouse with fake red brick walls, and tiled floors. There were pictures hung on the walls of landscapes and wheat fields, and a few ornaments like horseshoes joined them.

A young man approached them armed with menus and his best smile.

“Table for two?” he asked, cheerfully.

“Please,” Nevena said, equally as cheerful.

“Follow me!” The waiter turned and quickly led them through a series of occupied tables to a section yet to be filled with patrons. The table was tucked away in an alcove, intimately lit by electric candle sconces above. “How’s this?”

“Perfect.”

“Are you sure we won’t be forgotten about here?” asked Cullen, lifting a brow at the location and at the distance it was from the main thoroughfare of tables. “We’re quite out of the way.”

“Don’t you worry. This is my section, I know you’re here. It’ll fill up in a bit.” The waiter put the menus on the table for them and began listing off details of specials, and what the soup of the day was. Only half listening, Cullen pulled out a chair for Nevena and waited for her to sit. As she did, she removed her cardigan to hang off the back of the chair. He noticed for the first time that her dress was backless. Apart from a thin strap across the top of her back, there was nothing. From the nape of her neck to the base of her spine she was naked. It was almost indecent… and utterly unfair. He couldn’t say anything or touch her. It would be inappropriate, and he already felt like a bit of a letch just looking. Cullen bit back a small whine. It was going to be a long evening.

Cullen sat as the waiter finished talking about the menu and excused himself to attend to more patrons walking through the door. He skimmed the first few lines of the menu, glancing over the top of it to see Nevena doing the same. Her eyes scanned the writing, then lifted, meeting his gaze across the table.

“You’re sure you’re alright eating here?” asked Cullen, feeling his face grow warm at being caught staring at her. His hands were sweaty, and he tried to wipe them on his trousers. It was almost comical that, despite spending so much time together, sleeping in the same bed, and being intimate with each other on some level, this was the first time Cullen could honestly say he was nervous.

“Of course,” Nevena put her menu down and reached across the table to take one of his hands. Cullen lowered his own menu. “Stop worrying. We should enjoy ourselves.” She beamed at him, dimples in her cheeks and a wrinkle in her nose.

Cullen felt his mouth slip into a lopsided smile, his heart clenching in his chest. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” he laughed.

“Exactly.” Nevena gave his hand a squeeze, “so, let’s relax and enjoy ourselves. See where the evening takes us.”

Choosing not to respond to the potential implications behind her words, Cullen turned his attention back to the menu, and the large variety of options on offer.

The evening progressed organically over a bottle of red wine and tasty food. There were no pauses or awkward silences, and no breaks in conversation as the waiter came and went, checking everything was satisfactory. Cullen found he spent most of his time listening to Nevena and watching her talk about whatever came to mind. She was so animated when she was comfortable and relaxed. When there was no one around to pick at her posture or the topics she chose for conversation.

Cullen was hypnotised by every gesture and every word. He watched the way her lips formed phrases, listened for the lilt in her voice when she laughed, and a sparkle in her eye when she said something mischievous. She was enchanting, and he was utterly enraptured by her. He knew Varric would be too when they met. Varric would adore her, how lively she was, and her open, honest affectionate nature. He began to notice whenever she had the chance, she was touching him. Reaching across the table to hold his hands or touching his cheek. Even when there were plates and glasses in the way, she found a way to at least be able to have one arm resting casually on the table so their fingertips could touch. He was curious if part of the reason for her affection was a need for reassurance or a form of touch starvation, but he didn’t ask.

Whatever the reason, Cullen embraced it. If he was completely honest with himself, it was nice to be with someone who was so openly affectionate and did not shy away from small gestures of intimacy. He struggled with those acts, never knowing if he was overstepping, or when they were appropriate or not. Nevena made up for his own uncertainty, offering reassurance in her search for it.

As the dessert plates were cleared away and a comfortable lull in conversation settled, Cullen noticed a slightly more troubled expression marring Nevena’s features. Immediately he was uneasy, wondering if he had said something or done something to upset her.

“Everything alright?” he asked tentatively. “You look a little perturbed.”

Nevena shook her head, “It’s nothing.” She pushed her chair out and got to her feet, “would you like to take a walk?” She lifted her cardigan off the back of her chair and slipped it on over her arms and shoulders.

“Alright.” Cullen followed suit. Her answer was unsatisfactory and left Cullen’s worry unabated, but he did not want to push. They’d had an enjoyable evening. There was no point in potentially ruining it in the quest for an answer to what might have truly been nothing. And if it was something, he was sure Nevena would tell him in her own time.

When he was within arm’s reach, she looped her arm through his resting her hand in the crook of his elbow. Their attentive waiter bid them a good evening as they left. On leaving the restaurant, Cullen could hear slow jazz music coming from one direction, and from the other sounds of lively chatter and a muffled voice speaking over a microphone. A few other guests were walking to and from evening activities on the ship. They paid no attention to himself and Nevena as they wandered the hallways looking for a door that led out onto the deck.

It was dark and exceptionally cold on the deck. On setting foot outside, Nevena’s hair was blown in one direction, covering her face for a moment. She clutched onto Cullen’s arm with a vice-like grip but seemed determined to at least spend some time outside, despite the chill in the air. Cullen shielded Nevena as best he could from the cold, directing them in a random direction as they began to walk leisurely down the deck promenade. The smell of the sea was overwhelming but not unpleasant. The clear sky gave a breath-taking view of the stars and constellations above them, and a silver half-moon reflecting off the water. Even outside, Cullen could still make out the sound of music over the low hum of the engines of the ship.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the ease of their dinner conversation now missing and replaced with tension. Of things going unsaid. Cullen felt like Nevena wanted to say something, but either was too nervous or couldn’t find the right words. He noticed her picking at the beads on her dress as she walked and occasionally the grip she had on his arm would increase. He realised she was shivering too, her thin cardigan giving no protection from the cold.

“Hold on,” Cullen brought them to a stop and quickly shed his jacket. He slipped it onto her shoulders without giving her a moment to protest. It swamped her, but she seemed to melt into it. “Better?”

She smiled, looking a little bashful. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make a fuss. Won’t you be cold?”

“Not as cold as you were.” Cullen took her hand and led her to the ornate metal railings overlooking the edge of the ship. Below he could see the white foam where the bough cut through the water. “Is something wrong?” He asked after a few moments. “You seem… quiet.”

“Thinking,” Nevena said, leaning on the railing. “I’m a little nervous about meeting Mr Tethras tomorrow.” She cleared her hair away from her mouth as the wind whipped it up around her face, “Should I know anything?”

“Don’t call him Mr Tethras,” laughed Cullen. “He hates it. Aside from that, just be yourself. He’s easy going and very relaxed; he’ll love you.”

“Hm,” Nevena nodded once, a brief smile slipping into view before it disappeared. She dropped her gaze to the water below.

Cullen waited again, five seconds, ten, fifteen, hoping she would divulge whatever was on her mind. Behind them, he could hear the slow jazz, moving into a different genre. Something more classical, with strings and woodwind instruments. He realised Nevena was swaying to the tune.

“Do you like dancing?”

She was silent for a beat. “Maybe in the kitchen at home where no one can see me. Not in public. Or on the deck of a ship, before you ask.”

Cullen chuckled, “I’m not much of a dancer myself. I just noticed you were swaying.” He wrapped his fingers around her hand.

“I like the music.”

“Me too.” Cullen stood with her, leaning on the railing and looking out over the black expanse of ocean around them. The ship pushing through the waves was the only other sound, but the music rose above that. Nevena hummed a few bars of the tune her swaying coming to a stop.

They stood in silence, enveloped in the music and the cold air. Cullen continued to wait, sure that Nevena would speak about whatever was on her mind when she was ready. He didn’t mind the chill, even as it started to bite through his shirt and sting his cheeks a little. He would wait as long as she needed him to.

The classical tune inside moved smoothly into a more upbeat song that sounded as though it was from the forties or fifties. Music Cullen knew his parents would have appreciated when they were around. In that time, Nevena moved very little and her expression gave Cullen the impression she was deep in thought. When she did move, it was to get closer to him. She took him by surprise a little when she slipped her arms around his waist and tucked herself against Cullen’s chest, burying her face in his shirt. Cullen slid his hand up under his jacket and her cardigan touching the bare skin of her back, keeping her close and nestling his chin in her hair. Maybe she wouldn’t talk about whatever was on her mind. Maybe it was too raw, or too frightening for her to do just yet. Cullen didn’t mind, and he didn’t push.

“Can I ask you something?” Nevena spoke up after a few minutes.

“Anything.”

“About… the contract.”

“Mhm? What about it?”

“Is… does it still apply? Now?” Nevena’s voice was small, uneasy and Cullen wondered where her line of questioning was going. He shifted enough that he could look at her directly. “It’s… just,” Nevena’s brows scrunched together, “when I was talking to Roselyn, she said that because we’re no longer in Haven, no longer around my family, it’s kind of… void now.” She rubbed her forehead, “and I was wondering if that was how it worked, or…?”

Cullen inhaled deeply, pursing his lips for a moment. He had never thought about any of his contracts becoming void because it had never happened. His previous clients stayed with him in the arranged location for the agreed upon amount of time. There had never been a situation like the one he was in now. As he thought about it, the contract did stipulate specifics like Haven and being around her family. Neither was anywhere near them now and hadn’t been for some time.

“I’ve never really thought about it,” Cullen answered truthfully. “I… suppose, given the circumstances, I would consider it void as we’re no longer in the location or in the scenario described in the document.” He noticed Nevena shiver and ran his hands up and down her arms to try and warm her. “Why do you ask?”

Nevena bit her bottom lip, “I…” She fidgeted nervously, twisting a strand of hair back behind her ear over and over again. “Well, uhm… I wondered,” she scrunched her eyes closed for a moment, nostrils flaring on a deep breath. Cullen’s insides felt heavy, the food he had just consumed like stones inside him. It might have been the cold, but he was certain there was a cold sweat on his face. His heart pulsed in his throat, throbbing behind his ears. “I wondered if… if… I mean, maybe… We, that is, if you want to, we could, uh…” With a groan, she buried her face in her hands, “I am not good at this.”

With his blood pounding and his stomach tightly knotted, Cullen gently pulled her hands away from her face and cupped her jaw, coaxing her to lift her head. He could see her eyes were glassy, as if she was holding back tears, and she swallowed hard on a shuddering breath. Cullen kissed her forehead, exhaling against her skin. “Is it about what I said in the cathedral?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

“Mhm-hm,” Nevena nodded.

“What I said about giving this, us, a chance…” He looked her in the eye, “is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Y-yes,” Nevena choked out, nodding again. “I want to. I-if you still do, too.”

“No contract? No arrangement? Nothing?” he clarified, his heart beginning to race. “You want to?”

“I want to,” Nevena said again, with more conviction. “I want to.” A little louder, as if confirming for herself. “I’m tired of second guessing myself.” She blinked, and tears spilled down her cheeks. Cullen quickly wiped them away. “I’m scared, I won’t lie to you about that. I don’t know how this will turn out. And how I feel about you is kind of overwhelming sometimes, but I… I care about you. I’ve never felt like this before and… and you’re so patient, and I don’t want to spend my life wondering what could have been if I don’t take this chance. I’ve spent so long thinking… telling myself and believing that I don’t deserve to be happy. Not after how I ended things with Rick. B-but then, you come along, like a bolt out of the blue and I… I’m… happy when you’re around, and -”

“Nev -”

“- I can’t promise I’ll be easy to deal with.” She carried on hurriedly, wringing her hands. “I’m anxious and can be high strung. Sometimes I lose my temper, and I am chronically messy. I’m not a morning person, I’d live on takeout if I could, I have horrible habits that drive even me crazy. I watch some stupid TV shows, never put my laundry away. I cry at anything and everything from movies to commercials an—”

Cullen cut her off with a sound kiss, swallowing the muffled words and smiling against her lips. Nevena’s arms rose to encircle his neck, fingers twisting into his hair and the collar of his shirt. His jacket slid off her shoulders, landing with a soft ‘whump”’ on the ground. He wrapped his arms tight around her waist, pulling her body to his and leaned back, lifting her off the ground and laughing into her mouth at her soft squeal of surprise. When her feet touched the ground again and Cullen broke the kiss, he saw her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling, almost in disbelief.

“You are…” Cullen began, cupping her face. His mind was vacant of any suitable words or phrases to describe her. I love you, so much, was what he wanted to say, but didn’t. That would probably scare her half to death. Instead, he kissed her forehead, the space between her brows, and her lips again, unable to contain himself. “You are so wonderful,” he said, finally, pressing his forehead to hers.

Nevena giggled nervously, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Laughing again, Cullen retrieved his jacket and returned it to Nevena’s shoulders, adjusting it. “Shall we go inside? It’s getting colder.”

Walking with Cullen down the hallways of the ship back to their cabin, Nevena felt a mixture of excited and apprehensive anticipation. He tucked her against his side, arm around her waist and the two of them stole glances at each other as they walked, sharing small, secretive smiles – as if trying to conceal from other guests what had just transpired between them. There was no hurry or extra speed in Cullen’s gait, but Nevena was sure she could feel his own eagerness feeding into her own.

She was already second-guessing herself. Had she made the right choice in being honest, and declaring she wanted to give this relationship a real chance? Would it stay the same? Or would the ‘official-ness’ of it change everything? What was going to happen next? Surely the natural progression was that they would sleep together. That, in itself, opened up a whole new box of worries and concerns. It was years since Nevena had been intimate with anyone, and while Rick wasn’t her only sexual experience, it was the one that always came to mind when she considered sex. With him it had never been pleasant, or about her. What if Cullen was the same?

She knew she was being unreasonable, over-thinking. Her mind turning over and over the worst-case scenarios. Like, what if this was what Cullen wanted all along? Maybe once they had sex, he would change and be cold towards her? She was out of practice, so what if she had forgotten how to even have sex? Was that even possible? Could a person forget how to have sex with someone? If it was possible, then it would undoubtedly happen to her.

What about emotionally? Did Cullen feel the way she did? She loved him. At least, she thought she did. But like many things, that was missing from her relationship with Rick, and she couldn’t really admit to loving any of her previous boyfriends. She had been younger, and inexperienced, and those relationships had never lasted long or been particularly serious. Emotional attachments were formed, but never as strong as the way she felt about Cullen…

Was what she felt love? She wasn’t sure. It was a strong feeling, intoxicating, and all-consuming at times, but love? What if it was just lust? What if everything she felt towards him was just a basic, primal instinct that needed to be sated? And once it was, would the things she was feeling simply vanish? She couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t make love to him, and then have her emotions switch off, leaving them in a weird limbo. She didn’t want to use him or have him feel as though he was being used.

Her mind was turning over and over. She felt light-headed and dizzy as the door to their cabin came into view. Drawing nearer, it seemed to loom ahead, like some ominous, foreboding portal to another dimension. She inhaled sharply, realising she was almost hyperventilating. A quick glance up at Cullen, and the happy expression he’d been wearing was now one of open concern.

How long had she been zoned out for? What had she missed? Why couldn’t she just relax, and not think, for once in her life? Cullen was probably already regretting his excitement and making his initial suggestion back in Redcliffe. Somehow, she always managed to ruin things, and this clearly would be no exception.

A cold dread filled her when his grip around her waist loosened and disappeared entirely. He changed his hold to her hand, lacing their fingers together and giving hers a gentle squeeze while he dug through his trouser pocket for the key to their cabin. Despite his attempt at reassurance, Nevena felt sick and as though the food she had eaten would reappear any moment. Perhaps it was the wine? She wasn’t a big drinker, and between them they had consumed a bottle. She wasn’t drunk by any means, but maybe the alcohol was affecting her.

After unlocking and opening the door, Cullen gestured for her to enter before him. Nevena did, dropping his hand and scooting inside, pausing in the hallway. No lights were on in their cabin. She didn’t want to enter further and move towards the bed. She didn’t want to give Cullen the wrong idea… Would it have been the wrong idea, though? After all, she was attracted to him, and they’d done intimate things before, still under the rules of the contract. Why should now be any different? Only, it was different. Somehow, the contract acted as a safety net. With it, Nevena knew where they stood. While it was in effect, it was a set of rules and guidelines they had mutually agreed to. Now they were putting it aside and there was no more safety net. Just them, and their emotions, and nothing to hold them back.

That was alarming to her. It should have been exciting, but it was a terrifying thought.

“Hey,” Nevena physically started when Cullen spoke and gently brushed his fingers over her shoulder. “Come here.” His fingers trailed down her arm, causing her skin to rise in pinpricks. He hooked his index and middle finger around hers and guided her into the main room of their cabin, turning on one of the low illumination wall lamps as he did. She followed obediently, certain her knees were quaking and that she was shivering again, but this time not from the cold. “Sit, please.” Cullen gestured to the foot of the bed.

There was no tone of command in his voice, no look of impatience. He was calm, spoke softly, and Nevena noticed he was keeping a little bit of distance. A sense of shame slithered down her spine. She felt like the worst person in the world. Always running hot and cold, sending out confusing and mixed up signals.

Apologies stuffed themselves onto her tongue. She sat at the foot of the bed as Cullen requested. His jacket fell off her shoulders, pooling around her and Nevena quickly rubbed her arms, hoping to disguise her trembling as a chill. So many apologies to choose from, how could she pick just one to blurt out?

“Nev,” Cullen knelt before her and guided her hands from her arms, and her arms from their crossed position. He stroked up and down her forearms slowly, eyes on hers – never wavering. “Sweetheart, you need to breathe.”

Nevena’s stomach gave a pleasurable squirm at the use of a nickname. Calling him ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ the day before in the car had been an accident, but it had felt natural to say and to hear herself say. Rick had never given her a nickname or a pet name, or any name that she liked. For something so simple… to hear Cullen say it… the wind would have been knocked right out of her, were she not already practically gasping for air.

“I’m sorry,” Nevena mumbled, dropping her head and tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Why?” asked Cullen, inching closer and guiding her hands to his chest so she could feel his inhales and exhales. Nevena closed her eyes to concentrate on the sensation, leaving them in silence for a few minutes while she regained her composure.

“We had such a lovely evening and now I… I’m just… I’m ruining everything.” Nevena said once she was breathing more steadily. “I… I’m sorry, I want to be—”

“What are you ruining?” Still holding her hands, Cullen brought her arms up so they draped around his shoulders. Shifting closer still, so her knees were touching his chest, his own arms came to rest on the covers of the bed either side of her. “You’re not ruining anything.” When he lifted his head, Nevena dropped hers instinctively, grateful to feel his lips brushing her forehead.

He gave her reassurance without her asking for it. The maelstrom of nerves inside her calmed a little.

“I’m just… over-thinking. Everything.” She admitted, biting her lip. “Now we agreed the contract is void, I guess I’m floundering a little? I don’t know what to expect... What you expect.” Leaning away, Nevena noticed Cullen staring at her, a quizzical look on his face. She held his gaze for a few moments, before darting her eyes down to her lap.

“Did you think we would get back here and I would ravish you, or something?” Cullen inquired, his lips breaking out into a grin. Nevena said nothing, wishing the bed would open and swallow her. It did sound ridiculous, now he said it. Cullen failed to conceal a chuckle, which only served to make her feel even more foolish. “You have the wildest imagination,” he stated, tapping her chin and guiding her to lift her head and look at him. “We’re not going to do anything unless we both agree to it. And if that means going to bed and doing nothing, then that isn’t an issue for me.” He inclined towards her, and kissed the space between her brows, “I’m in no rush, Nevena.” She heard his knees creak a little when he rose higher up on them to be more level with her and pressed his forehead to hers, nuzzling her skin. “One day at a time. One hour at a time, if that’s what it takes for you to be comfortable and happy.”

Nevena chuckled, closing her eyes and sliding her hands over his shoulders to curl her fingers underneath the collar of his wine-red shirt. She traced the fold, feeling foolish for getting so worked up, and grateful that Cullen already understood that quirk of hers. It wasn’t something she would need to explain all the time. He knew about and accepted it, which gave her a sense of relief and more importantly, they could work on it, together.

“So…” Nevena murmured, opening her eyes.

“So.” Cullen did the same, creating some space between their faces so they could look at each other.

“What now?”

“Well,” exhaling heavily, Cullen bobbed his head from side-to-side as if thinking, “first, I really must ask: may I kiss you? I’ve been wanting to since I saw you in this,” he picked at one of the beads on her dress, “but I didn’t want to create a scene.” He plucked a few more of the beads in his fingers, “This dress really is criminally indecent.”

Nevena giggled, resting her forehead on his shoulder for a moment as she laughed. “It’s quite risqué for my wardrobe, I know. Roselyn made me buy it… She packed it too, actually.” She lifted her head and brushed her left hand back through his hair. “And convinced me to wear it.”

“Remind me to thank Roselyn,” chuckled Cullen. “And it’s very risqué, but I like it on you. You wear ‘criminally indecent’ well.” He placed a light peck on the end of her nose. “So, may I?”

Tilting her head, first to the left and then the right, Nevena hummed and pursed her lips, pretending to consider his request. “I suppose so,” she said, finally with an exaggerated sigh and roll of her shoulders. “If you must.”

“Oh,” Cullen’s mouth slipped into a slight smirk, “I must. I absolutely must.”

His lips meeting hers muffled her laughter, and she felt him smiling into the kiss. His lips were warm, soft, and gentle on her own, the kiss careful and measured. He didn’t want to overwhelm her – and she adored him all the more for that. He would never ask for more than she was willing to give, and the same could be said for her. Nevena slid her hands along his shoulders again, then up, one into his hair, the other cradling the back of his neck. Her body was already reacting to him kissing her - her skin tingled pleasantly and with every second that passed her stomach twisted itself tighter and tighter. His hands at her sides roamed upwards to her shoulders. He eased the fabric of her thin cardigan off her shoulders and down her arms, pulling the sleeves off her hands. Then they were lower, skimming a few inches beyond the hem of her dress to stroke her bare thighs. Without thinking about it, she parted her legs, allowing Cullen closer as he slotted between them from his position kneeling on the floor.

Cullen broke away leaving only a few inches between them. Nevena could still feel his breath – coming more quickly – landing on her lips. When she opened her eyes, she took in the features of his face, drawing her thumb over the swell of his lower lip. She noticed they were slightly redder than before, and his perfect mouth drew into an equally perfect smile. His cheeks were slightly pinker. The honey-brown of his eyes had darkened, and his pupils were wide as he regarded her as closely as she did him.

“What’re you looking at?” asked Cullen, his voice slightly hoarse and strained, as though he was struggling to keep it in a lower register.

“Just you,” Nevena replied, smiling.

“And?” he tilted his head to one side. His nose brushed hers. Another inch or so, and his mouth would be on hers again.

“And…” Nevena rolled one shoulder into a shrug. She slipped her fingers through his hair, nails dragging gently down the back of his neck. Cullen’s eyelids flickered closed for a moment, and she heard a deep, guttural sound arise from his throat. She laughed at the noise and the brief look of embarrassment that flittered across Cullen’s face. “Cullen, I…”

His eyes locked on hers and it was like time stopped for a few seconds. Whatever she felt, she couldn’t tell him. Not yet, not now. They had only just agreed to give their relationship and chance without the contract binding them together. Now was not the time to tell him she thought she was in love with him – it would only scare him off. Scare him, as much as it scared her. She swallowed the words as though she was swallowing stone, a heavy feeling settling in her belly. Instead of finishing her words, she darted her head forward, capturing his mouth.

This kiss was harder. Cullen groaned a little when she curled her fingers into his hair and tugged him closer, urged the kiss deeper. The mattress on either side of her shifted with Cullen adjusting his weight. He was moving, getting to his feet to be nearer. Nevena could feel herself leaning back and pulling him with her, willingly giving into the more primal and base desires she had been feeling for him for days and trying to suppress. His hands were on her thighs again, fingers inching up under the edge of her dress, hitching it further up. He pressed his nails into her flesh, dragging them down towards her knees and making her shudder. Nevena opened her mouth to moan, and Cullen took full advantage, his tongue pushing past her lips.

The rough, velvety texture was pleasurable. She reciprocated every movement, winding her tongue around his, nipping at his lips, relishing every sloppy and wanton sound of their lips parting, breaths catching, and the different growls and moans they made. Cullen’s hands moved lower, trailing down over her thighs to her knees. He paused there with his left hand, his right carried on down, fingers ghosting over the back of her calf and coaxing her to bend and lift her leg until he had her foot in hand. Nevena quivered, the hairs on her arms standing straight. She strained her body to remain upright, clenching muscles in her torso and trying to follow when Cullen brought a premature end to their kiss.

He smiled dropping to his knees in front of her again. She watched, curious and trying to focus past the haze of want in her mind and the pulsing between her legs as he released her left leg and changed so he held her right leg elevated in that hand. His right hand now free, he delicately removed her heel, putting it to one side and kissed her shin. Cullen’s eyes were up, his gaze fixed on hers and never faltering. Somehow, it made everything feel more intense, and intimate. Watching him watching her as he dragged his lips up her shin, trickling his fingers up the back of her calf, and pressed another kiss to her knee.

Her cheeks grew hotter as he repeated the gesture with her left leg. Removing her shoe, gently kissing her ankle, dragging his lips up and kissing her knee, his fingers following the contours of her muscle and bone. Cullen’s breath brushed her flesh, his lips warm and distracting. She had never seen or experienced anything quite so intensely sexy or reverent. It was as though he was a pilgrim, worshipping at a shrine and she felt undeserving of such softness and adoration.

“I love your legs,” Cullen murmured, closing his eyes and kissing her knee again.

Nevena couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubble out of her, half from embarrassment, and half from the tickling sensation of his fingers. “T-thank you.”

“I think I’d love every inch of you,” he continued, drawing his fingers up her thighs and perching his knees on the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t seen every inch of me…” countered Nevena, uncertain quite where her boldness was coming from.

“True…” Cullen tilted his head to one side. His hands came to rest on either side of her again and he leaned over her, causing her to arch her head back. His mouth hovered over hers, painfully just out of kissing distance, “I am very eager to see every inch, though,” he brushed the end of his nose against hers, back and forth, “if you’ll permit me.” He lifted one hand to her face, cupping the back of her neck, his thumb pressing into the hollow under her jaw. Nevena was certain he could feel her pulse racing.

She licked her lips, considering her reply. Cullen’s eyes darted to her mouth and his eyes seemed to darken even further. “Let’s see where tonight takes us, hm?” She shifted her head to one side, shaking her hair away from her shoulders exposing her neck and collar to him. His nostrils flared. “You may be surprised to learn that I’m very eager to see every inch of you, too.”

Lowering his head, Nevena felt his lips graze her throat, kissing the curve of her neck and shoulder. “That’s a different thought process to earlier, Miss. Trevelyan,” Cullen murmured. “Are you sure you’re not just playing coy with me?”

Biting the corner of her lip, she swallowed thickly and tried to suppress the shudder that rippled over her body like lightning as he laid further kisses to her neck. “Mr. Rutherford, you should know there’s a difference between being naked with each other and having sex. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Cullen laughed, the sound seeming to vibrate into Nevena’s skin and right through her to her toes. “Good point.” More kisses followed the angle of her collar bone, and then he followed the length of her neck up with his tongue, before claiming her mouth once more. Nevena greeted him with enthusiasm, putting her weight back onto one hand and using her free one to cradle the back of his head, urging him closer. Once more, his tongue was past her lips, sounds of heaving breaths and low moans filling the heavy air of the cabin each time their lips met, parted, and met again.

A flicker of boldness that had ignited in Nevena grew with each passing moment. Her instinct was to wrap her legs around him, to have him inside her, moving in tandem, sweating and moaning and moving until neither of them could think. She wanted to. The warmth between her legs was now an insistent heat. Arousal chased away all her more sensible thoughts – spurred on by the denial she had been imposing on herself. Clutching that small spark, Nevena trailed her free hand down, over Cullen’s shoulder, over the front of his shirt, following the line of buttons, and lower. She found the buckle on his belt and paused there, waiting to see if Cullen would object. When he didn’t – his kisses growing in their heat instead, as if to will her to continue – she allowed herself to venture lower.

She found his cock easily enough, hard and heavy contained within his trousers. She wrapped her hand over him, stroking through the fabric. Cullen groaned after only a few seconds and pulled away. He pressed his forehead to hers, gasping quick breaths and opening his eyes to look at her. She met his gaze, her own breathing growing harder. The sheer, primal need she saw in his eyes made her chest tighten. She squeezed him, his eyes flew closed, and he groaned her name.

“Nev,” he kissed her again, briefly, and nuzzled her forehead.

“Sit down,” Nevena said, keeping her voice low. The bold spark was growing into a flame with every approving sound that tumbled from Cullen’s lips, “Please.” He did, sitting heavily beside her. Immediately, Nevena swapped places, moving to kneel between his legs. As she began to unbuckle his belt Cullen placed his hands over hers.

“You don’t have to do this,” he told her, a firm severity to his words and expression – though made slightly less convincing by the flush to his face. “I don’t expect anything. I meant what I said.”

“I know,” Nevena smiled, “but I want to… Unless,” she tilted her head to one side, a thought popping into her head that she hadn’t considered before, “do you not want me to?”

Cullen’s eyes widened slightly, “No, no. Nothing like that.” He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, “I suppose I… I wasn’t expecting… I… don’t want you to feel like to have to… Does that make sense?”

“I don’t feel like that,” explained Nevena, resting her chin on his thigh, “This is my choice. You haven’t asked me or coerced me. I want to do this for you because... well, because. There doesn’t have to be a convoluted reason, does there?”

“I suppose not…” Cullen looked almost sheepish.

Rising on her knees to try and reach him, Nevena kissed him when he met her halfway, caressing the side of his face attempting to reassure him. “Then help me with this and relax.” She coaxed, smiling against his lips. She heard him swallow thickly, but he nodded and assisted in undoing his belt and trousers. He pulled his boxer-briefs down with his trousers, exposing himself to the air.

Nevena took his cock in hand, gingerly stroking him a few times. He was hard, fully erect, the smooth, rounded head of his cock a deep red colour and his shaft seemed to throb in her hand. Pre-cum was already leaking from the tip, sliding down the length of him into the coarse darker blond hair around the base making him slick and allowing Nevena’s hand to move up and down easily.

Aware of Cullen’s eyes on her, Nevena pumped his length several times, growing accustomed to the weight and girth. Lifting her gaze to his, clutching the flame of boldness still inside her, Nevena stared at him unwavering as she opened her mouth and dragged her tongue up the full length of him from base to tip. Cullen’s eyes widened again and appeared to flash. The taste of is pre-cum – salty and a little sharp - lingered on Nevena’s tongue as she repeated the motion, dragging her mouth up and down his cock, suckling with her lips without taking him into her mouth completely. His breathing hitched each time she drew her tongue near the head of his cock. He flexed his hands in the sheets of the bed covers, clenching and unclenching them.

She continued to stroke him steadily, rotating her hand a little on every up-and-down motion. Still watching him, she circled the tip of her tongue over the swollen, reddened crown of his cock. Cullen’s reaction was instant, a sharp inhale, eyes flying shut.

“N-Nev,” he fisted his hands into the sheets again and his legs bucked a little on either side of her.

She circled him a few more times with her tongue, the taste of him one she was now more accustomed to. As she paused her stroking, she gently took him in, closing her lips around his girth. Cullen let out a low moan, his nostrils flaring. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked, bobbing her head as she worked him. She held his cock in one hand for ease, the other she used to tuck her hair behind her ear. More groans, broken with quick inhales came from Cullen. He had his head back when Nevena looked at him again, and she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat whenever he gasped or swallowed. A sight which only encouraged her.

She bobbed her head, opening her mouth at times, and curling her tongue at others, trying to gauge from Cullen’s expression and his voice what brought him more enjoyment. She held him around the base of his cock and could feel it throb at random intervals. Cullen squeezed her shoulder and pulled her hair to one side when a few strands got stuck to the saliva coating him. He held her hair in a loose fist that did little to impact her.

To give her mouth a rest, Nevena began to stroke him again with her hand, slowly, squeezing for a little added pressure. She kept her lips close to his length, breathing hard so every exhale landed on Cullen’s sensitive flesh. His cock twitched. Nevena circled the extra sensitive spot she discovered in Redcliffe causing Cullen’s hips jerked forward.

“Fuck…”

“Are you okay?” Nevena asked, leaning back a little to get a better look at Cullen, while she continued to slide her hand up-and-down his length.

“Mhm-hm…” He nodded, his eyes squeezed closed.

“Anything you’d like me to do specifically?”

Cullen shook his head, “n-no… just… carry on as you are…” He leaned his head back as Nevena slowly drew him back between her lips and into her mouth. “—feelssogood—“ she heard him groan, which only added more fuel to the flame that started this.

She saw him open his eyes to watch her, an expression of intense focus on his face, as if he was trying to force his eyes to remain open and take in every detail of this experience. Nevena smiled up at him around his cock in her mouth and with her free hand, reached between his legs to take his balls in hand. Cullen seemed to whimper, biting his teeth into his lower lip, flaring his nostrils, and muttering some other blasphemous praise to the Maker. Nevena worked them between her fingers, cupping and squeezing gently, applying brief amounts of pressure and releasing. Each gesture, each lap of her tongue or angle of her head brought a different sound. A deep guttural groan at times, a sharp intake of breath at others. Nevena heard her name moaned openly and low. Cullen encouraged her with every sound he made and every breath he stole.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen whined above her. Nevena watched him lift one hand to rub over his face. He released her hair and loosened two buttons at the top of his shirt. Once he had done that, he reached forward with that same hand, spreading his fingers over her bare back and dragging upwards. Nevena shivered, shifting closer to him on her knees.

Closing her mouth around him more tightly, Nevena began to suck in earnest, squeezing him on all sides with her cheeks and her tongue. She held his cock steady with her left hand, wiggling her head a little each time to take him deeper into her mouth. Her saliva coated his shaft, and what she couldn’t take, she stroked. Bobbing her head up and down steadily, she swirled and wrapped her tongue around him, focusing her energies on the sensitive crown. She swallowed, tightening her cheeks around him, and moaned, the low sound reverberating in her throat.

She slurped nosily on each up stroke, saliva dripping from her chin. Cullen didn’t seem to notice, or if he did he didn’t care. He was still fighting to keep his eyes open, to watch her pleasure him but was failing. Each time she licked him or moved her tongue he groaned and Nevena admitted to herself it was one of the sexiest things she’d ever heard. To know he was enjoying himself, that he was so full of unbridled pleasure that he was losing control of his volume – and it was because of her.

Sliding his cock from her mouth to give her jaw a break, she pumped him, her spit leaving a trail to her lips. Nevena quickly wiped her chin, reeling back a little when Cullen lurched forward. He slipped his hands around her face to tilt her head up and kissed her soundly, lips fitting over hers. He breathed hard, puffing and panting against her mouth while drawing his thumbs over her cheeks. His brow was sweaty and could taste the salt from his lips.

“Wonderful as this is,” he said breathing hard and his brow furrowing, “if you k-keep going it’s going to get messy.”

“Isn’t that the idea?” Nevena asked, tilting her head to one side. “You do want to cum, don’t you?”

“Maker, yes!” Cullen groaned, “B-but—”

Nevena watched him, watched the hesitation. “But…?”

If possible, Cullen’s cheeks grew darker. “I would… rather not come on you… or in your mouth. It… doesn’t sit right, with me.” She saw the embarrassment as he avoided her gaze and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. Cute as it was, now wasn’t the time to lovingly tease him about it.

“Okay then,” Nevena nodded and cupped his face with one hand. “What would you prefer?”

There was a flash of relief mixed with surprise in Cullen’s expression, and he visibly relaxed. “Come and sit.” Cullen gestured to the space beside him. Nevena did as asked, sitting and waiting for him to be comfortable. When he kissed her, she found herself giggling and teasing a hand up, through his hair to where she could wind strands around her fingers. The back of his neck was sweaty, and she could feel warmth radiating off his cheeks.

Cullen took her free hand in his, guiding her to close her fingers around him and stroke his cock again while he set the pace this time, pumping with his hand on hers.  When the kiss broke, Cullen’s breath quaked when he breathed, and he pressed his forehead to Nevena’s, his eyes closed, and his brow furrowed as if in deep thought. She watched him, fascinated by the shifting of his expression and the noises that broke past his lips, unbidden.

Cullen leaned on one hand, his face contorting into an expression that looked as though he was verging on pain. His breathing was sharp, and he moaned, burying his face into the curve of Nevena’s neck and kissing her there. He removed his hand from Nevena’s leaving her to set the pace. That hand came and curled back behind her neck, fingers curling into her hair as if she was tethering him to the world. Nevena watched his cock with hungry interest that was like a lead weight in her stomach. In her fingers, she could feel his shaft twitching. Liquid leaked from the head, slipping down the length and onto her hand. Cullen kissed her brief, and hard, sweeping her hair all over one shoulder again. His eyes were open when he pulled away, his gaze intent on her. He moaned low in his throat, his hips jerking, his chest rising and falling erratically.

“N-Nev,” he grunted, “N-Nev, ohfuck, Nevena—”

In a rush, Cullen’s hips bucked, and his cock throbbed in Nevena’s hand. She slowed her strokes, feeling hot, thick and sticky liquid start to coat her hand and Cullen’s shaft. Beside her Cullen moaned, his lips brushing over her nose and her cheeks. More of his seed leaked from the head of his cock and Nevena could smell the somewhat chemical scent of it when she inhaled. Stroking a few more times for good measure Nevena removed her hand, glancing around for tissues or a cloth to clean up with.

Before she could move, Cullen was kissing her again. Fingers gently touching her jaw and her neck, his lips trembling under hers. His caresses were soft and random – as though he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands now the moment had passed.

Nevena was hit with the thought that this was just another clear difference between Cullen and Rick. When doing anything with Rick, he was forceful and once he was satisfied – that was it. There was none of what Cullen was doing. None of the touching, the kissing, the reassurance, and the intimacy.  Where Rick used to grab and pull her hair or force himself into her mouth, Cullen was practically a gentleman about it, clearing her hair away from her neck and her mouth, teasing his fingers through it. With Rick, anything sexual was difficult and Nevena hated it, dreaded it. Rick’s forceful natural often left her feeling as though she was choking, and her throat and mouth sore. Cullen had seemed content to let her be in charge. To set the pace, and do what worked for her, and communicating when he felt the need to do so.  

She brushed her nose against his, affection welling up in her chest as Cullen gazed at her with an almost drunk expression on his flushed face.

“Let me go clean up,” she murmured, kissing him.

“Okay…”

She got to her feet, went to the bathroom and washed her hands thoroughly. She took a moment to tidy her hair and rinse her mouth out. When she returned, Cullen was flat on his back, his breathing more even, and his trousers pulled up to conceal himself but still undone. She stood in the threshold of the hallway, towel in hand, smiling at the sight of him, recovering and probably trying to make sense of what just happened.

Cullen saw her, lifted his right hand and crooked a finger at her, beckoning her to him. She went to him willingly, climbed onto the bed beside him, and deposited the towel haphazardly in his lap. Cullen drew her towards him, lifting his head to kiss her, sighing and moaning softly when she gently ran her fingernails over his scalp.

Cullen wrapped her up in his arms, and Nevena snuggled against him. She kissed his jaw, his neck, winding his sweat curled hair around her fingers. She felt him drawing his fingertips up and down her bare back. Every-so-often, his lips brushed her forehead and after a few minutes, his breathing was slow and steady.

“So…” Cullen mumbled, “that was…”

“Yep.” Nevena smiled against his neck. “That was…”

“Something,” they said in unison. Cullen turned his head to look at her, before they both broke out into laughter. He covered his eyes with his hand, his laughter rumbling within his chest. Nevena muffled her own giggles against his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, leaning up on an elbow and trailing her hand down his face. “I know that was a little unexpected…”

“That might be the understatement of the century” Cullen chuckled, “but I’m fine. Better than fine.” He laughed again.

Nevena smiled softly down at him, “Good.”

Cullen tapped her nose. “I’m going to have to repay you now, you realise that, don’t you?”

Before Nevena could reply, Cullen had rolled over to be on top of her, nudging a knee between her legs. He smiled down at her as she laughed, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ears and peppering little kisses over her face.

“Uhm,” in the wake of her success, it seemed Nevena’s boldness had fled too, and she found herself biting her bottom lip. “Before… anything further happens…”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to be that person and ask, did you, by any chance take any of the condoms from the Regency room at Haven?” She flushed deeply but did not look away from Cullen’s eyes.

“…No,” he said, his lips quirking down at the corner. He pushed his through his hair and breathed out hard. “But, good thinking. Should I go and get some? N-not to use tonight, but for the future, maybe? I’m sure there are places to buy them on the ship – even if most of the other people on the cruise would probably break a hip if they— “

“You’re babbling.”

“Sorry,” Cullen bowed his head in a moment of defeat. When he looked at her again, his expression was more assured. “If we get them now, then it saves having to worry in future.”

“Might be a good idea,” agreed Nevena.

Cullen climbed off her and fastened his belt. He put the towel Nevena had collected from the bathroom on the desk, turned and quickly pecked her on the lips. “I won’t be long. Don’t move a muscle.” Another kiss, he grabbed the room key from the table and was gone in seconds.

Nevena waited a moment before getting to her feet and moving hurriedly around the cabin, as if doing so would work off the excess energy now buzzing around her body. She stopped after about thirty seconds and stared at the door. “I can’t believe I did that.” She said to herself. To be as brazen and to have that confidence was an unfamiliar feeling for her. She had liked it. She wished she could be more confident like that all the time, but she would take it when it happened. Perhaps she just needed to listen to her instincts more often, rather than doubting herself all the time. Maybe that was the key to being successful and happy – such a simple answer.

She went to the bathroom and rinsed her mouth out a second time, the taste of Cullen still lingering on her tongue. After that, she put her shoes together at the foot of the bed and tidied the sheets and pillows. She changed too, slipping out of her dress and into her sushi pyjamas for comfort.

As she climbed back onto the bed she shifted position several times, trying to get comfortable. She leaned up against the pillows and threw several on the floor when she became uncomfortable, only to pick them back up again two minutes later. She tidied her belongings on the desk, turned the lights lower. She lay back down on her front, then on her back. She checked the time on her phone, trying to gauge how long Cullen had been gone.

On her side, on her front again. On her back with her head dangling off the end of the bed – which made her feel woozy after about thirty seconds. Eventually, she settled for lying on her side, facing the direction of the door, her head perched on her hand. She waited.

There was no telling what the time was when Nevena slowly opened her eyes. The cabin was dark, and there was a bulk of warmth cocooned around her. It took her a few seconds to realise she had fallen asleep while waiting for Cullen and that thought jerked her awake in his arms. He grunted, awoken by her sudden movement.

“Nev?” Cullen mumbled, lips pressing to her bare shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

“I fell asleep,” stated Nevena, rolling over to face him. “When you were gone. I’m sorry – I didn’t mean—”

“Shhh,” Cullen ran his fingers through her hair, and brushed the end of his nose against hers, “it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He said, tired and suppressing a yawn. “I was tired, too.”

“Are you mad?” Nevena asked, almost fearful that he would say he was.

“Not at all,” Cullen voice sounded like he was smiling. “I’m only sorry I didn’t get to repay you, after what you did for me.”

Nevena swallowed, “Oh…”

“Come on,” Cullen tucked her closer to him, tilting his head up to rest on top of her hair, “go back to sleep.”

“What’s the time?”

“Late… Or early, depending on how you look at it. At least three in the morning.”

“We’ll be docking in Kirkwall soon.”

“Mhm-hm,” sighed Cullen. He wound his fingers down her back, creating random shapes. “Get some sleep.”

Nevena exhaled, trying to relax and settle back into the depth of the mattress and the warmth of Cullen’s body. Within a few minutes, he was snoring softly, sound asleep and dead to the world. She closed her eyes, ready to join him.

Gods, I'm actually quite nervous about this chapter (I'm nervous about every chapter I upload, to be honest) but this one... definitely has me a bit more worried than most. This one has been through a couple of rewrites and serious edits because there were aspects about the first few drafts that were so out of character and didn't fit. This iteration of the chapter seems... more in keeping with the characters and where their relationship is. I'm sure there some of you going: HOLY CRAP, FINALLY. And some of you going: THAT'S IT? WE WAITED ALL THAT TIME AND THAT'S ALL WE GET?!

If you're disappointed they didn't immediately go and do the do, I apologize, but there is a lot of fic left (like... a fair few chapters) so there's time for them to move along onto *other* things. Even if you are disappointed in this chapter, I hope you'll stick around for the rest of the fic.

What do you guys think? Were you rooting for Nevena when she finally confirmed to Cullen what she wanted? Do you think they should have done anything sexual or waited? Were you expecting this conversation and the aftermath to go differently? Or does it fit what you had in mind? How do you think this development will effect things once they're in Kirkwall? Do you think Nevena should have stayed awake so they could have done more? Let me know in the comments and I'll reply to you ... before the next chapter is up. >.>

Before I forget, I want to plug @eisschirmchen on tumblr who did a series of adorable drawings of Cullen and Nevena in their outfits for this chapter. Link is below, go and show her some love. <3 http://eisschirmchen.tumblr.com/post/177312374879/finally-got-to-draw-fanarts-to-blustersqualls

Thank you again for joining me on this long fic and sticking with it. I appreciate your patience and the comments. As always, let me know what you think, and I'll see you with the next chapter soon. <3

[thedistantstorm]

A SteelPoncho Dawning - Part 1

A Dawning romance featuring the Commander and the Clan Steward, their feelings for each other coming to a head during the first Dawning celebration following the Red War, featuring Lord Saladin, city food, eventual smut, and a whole lot of pining.

Just before he adjourns the Consensus, Commander Zavala says, “A reminder that Lord Saladin will be arriving next week with the intent of hosting the Iron Banner through the Dawning. I would remind everyone that with the Faction Rallies, Crucible, and Iron Banner all inevitably inspiring competition that we remember what this time of year is about. Dismissed.”

Per usual, Hawthorne is waiting for him when he exits the hall. Usually, one or both of them are too hyped up to do anything productive after the hostilities that typically consume these bi-weekly gatherings of the powers that be. Especially with her adjusting to her new role, specifically the responsibilities, protocols, and expectations that came with, Suraya had taken to asking the Commander questions or voicing her concerns afterward, and he found that such discussions were best done either over a meal, or at the very least, some caffeine. The walk down to the City usually gave her some freedom to think through her questions and, more importantly, get some fresh air after spending hours locked up in the Vanguard Hall.

It was getting colder, scant flakes of snow breezing by as they fall into step together. They are almost to the area of the Tower reserved as residences for the Vanguard and any other high-ranking officials who chose to keep a flat atop the wall when her steps slow and she looks at the swirling snow around them.

“It’s a long walk down there,” She says to him. “You want to ditch the armor and put on something that actually keeps you warm?”

He laughs. “I will be fine, Suraya. The Light is useful to Guardians for more than battle.” He puts a hand on her cheek. She is frigid. He is pleasantly warm.

He feels the grumble she makes through his palm before he removes his hand. “Okay, got it. Awoken furnace.” She rolls her eyes in mock irritation. “Must be nice.”

“I learned very little about solar abilities aside from this,” Zavala hums back. “It certainly has its advantages, but burning hammers do not interest me.”

“I thought it was a maul?”

He shrugs. She giggles. “Of course,” He backpedals, suddenly self-aware of his flippancy, “All of the Titan orders and abilities are of equal importance, do not get me wrong-”

She nudges his forearm with her elbow. “No need to explain it to me, Zavala. I am the last person to be passing judgement. But, speaking of judgement,” She segways for as much for his personal comfort as for sake of moving the conversation along, “This meeting was way lighter on it than the others, thankfully. Anyway, I would like to know more about Saladin-”

“Lord Saladin.”

“Yeah, him-”

“No, I mean Lord Saladin. He was my teacher, Suraya. He is deserving of your respect.”

“Sure. Lord Saladin,” She agrees, with a roll of her eyes that he'll never break her of, “Tell me about him over lunch. Especially stories about both of you. Also,” She leans over to him conspiratorially, falling out of step with him to do so, “This diner we’re going to? It has amazing pie.”

Of course it does, Zavala thinks. That earns her a laugh as he shakes his head. “I'm beginning to think this is all a rouse to coerce me to take you for a meal. Do you actually have things you need to discuss?”

“Please. If I insisted on doing this every time I needed help, we’d go at least three times a day.” She ducks her head, giving him a sheepish smile. “I actually have questions I save up, since, y’know, I haven’t been alive for more than this age of the city and you’re ancient enough to remember most of them - I think.”

He rolls his eyes. “I might be old, but I’m not senile, Hawthorne.”

“Most of the time,” Suraya teases, brown eyes sparkling with a playful glint. She pulls her hood closer to her neck to abate the cold, and his eyes narrow on rosy cheeks and a pink nose. Ignoring her jibe, he can’t help but wonder if she would prefer a scarf in periwinkle or red.

-/

He enjoys spending these afternoons(and the occasional evening) with her, following meetings of the Consensus. Over the last few months since her appointment as Clan Steward, he's had the distinct pleasure of watching her come into her own. He'd asked her to stay and monitor the clans because she had owned them since they were civilian flags waving in the refugee camps at the farm. She excelled at bringing people together, at inspiring unity amongst the Guardians as well as the general population both inside and out of the walls.

Hawthorne, for all her reputation as someone who flew off the handle - there were rumors amongst FOTC about what she could do with a frying pan that she always brushed off(which meant they were true) - was surprisingly poised in Consensus meetings. She'd come in humble but firm, and eager to debate things for the benefit of her people - all people. Instead of screaming when someone voiced something that contradicted her beliefs, she backed up cool statements with fact.

Secretly, he liked to believe he had rubbed off on her - a little. Of course, the last time he'd thought that in a meeting, she'd thrown an absolute fit at something he personally had said, refused to meet with him afterward, and come back hours later to debate with him until the early morning hours.

He remembered fondly taking her to breakfast once they’d finished going round after round of mental warfare. She’d apologized quietly into her tea for the myriad of insults she’d volleyed at him, saying that she was only trying to do what was best for the clans and their people. They looked to her, and she was beholden to defend their best interests wherever possible. His reply was to convince the waitress to bring her the largest slice of apple pie, fresh from the baker's oven, and make her promise never to change.

It is undeniable that he values her opinion, her spirit, her company. She is invaluable to him. A friend. It has been quite some time since he’s truly had a friend. Despite technically pulling rank, they regarded each other as equals, she being his civilian counterpart in all but name.

Not that he needs a sounding board. Certainly, they discuss major issues, and he’d be remiss if he denied ever asking her opinion on items he’d been pressed to decide for the City, but theirs was an easy camaraderie.

She would spend hours reading up on the City’s history, that of their enemies, the Factions, and even the occasional recreational story he’d send her way when he felt she needed a break. In the same way, she’d know exactly when to clear her throat, pull the tablet out of his hands, and force him to take a break - even if she cleverly disguised it as needing him to tend to her until he was out of his own head. His Ghost was certainly pleased with the arrangement, Zavala’s mental health had never been more in hand.

It had probably been a century - maybe more - since he’d looked forward to more than just work. His work was important, irrefutably so, but he found he had a clearer resolve with more anchors than those constantly being forced upon him by political bodies who would see him rip himself apart to please all their whims.

He found himself eager to set aside his reports in lieu of spending quiet evenings lost in crochet while she thumbed through a book, journalled, or tended to Louis. More likely, she’d do all three with the day’s crucible matches playing quietly in the background, take-away containers scattered across one of their kitchen tables if she was feeling adverse to cooking. And oh, if there was something that was incredible about Suraya Hawthorne that was not humanity or clan related, it was that the woman could cook.

At first it had come as a surprise, her casual refusal of more enthusiastic plans for a night spent in his company, sometimes exchanging few words and almost always ending in him waking her to send her home or to her bed while he saw himself out. The rough 'n tumble vibe others so commonly appointed to her could not be further from the truth. She drank very little, hated large, boisterous taverns, and kept a small circle of friends. There was something comfortable about their arrangement, their companionship. Something that came from not discussing, not making it any more than it was.

...Something that was easily avoided, but fierce and strong, exhilarating and new. He refused to really think about it, for fear of ruining the balance they’d managed to attain - that stark contrast from their original interactions during the war, at the Farm. He knew he trusted Suraya Hawthorne with his life, she’d certainly saved it a time or two. He knew in his heart of hearts that she too trusted him implicitly. That was enough. He dared not consider that soft edge in her glances, the occasional brushes of fingertips(or arms, or legs, or her head on his shoulder), their ridiculous ability to wind up on the same wavelength despite varying experiences.

Zavala is pragmatic, rational. He knows better than to look at things through the lens of what he wants, and instead to see them as they are. But so much of it really seems to be the same, no matter how he looks at it. Which is why he refuses to think about it, and instead cherish whatever interactions they have, for what they are. No reading into it allowed.

Even if it meant ignoring that warm, tight feeling in his chest at her successes, or the lack of air in his lungs when she'd look at him a certain way - the way that said she sees him as a man who is more than a title or an immortal or a weapon or a leader, sees beyond arcing fists and too-bright eyes into a soul that is old and new all at once. Or, even still, holding her heartbreak close to his own when she failed, allowing her space when all he wanted was to hold her close and chase it away.

No, he absolutely couldn’t think about it, because he’d be in way over his head, and everything would change.

[teacoffeeandwhatnot]

The Gay Agenda - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is here! Its a yoonmin chapter, so tuck in and enjoy!

Please keep in mind, sentences written in Italic is what is being said by the panel, or people in the studio. Normal text is what is happening otherwise.

As always, also available on my Ao3! 

(if you want me to tag you every time i update, please dont hesitate to message me and I’ll add it in the next chapter)

To be fair, the flyer had hung in the music department on a bulletin board that explicitly said “Music Work Opportunities” over it. To be even more fair though, Yoongi hadn’t really read the flyer properly. He saw the word competition and immediately assumed it was for writing and producing.

He promptly wrote his application, adding his (maybe slightly exaggerated) sob story of how he’s “wanted to do music since he was little,” and “music is my whole world,” and topping it off with a little bit of “music saved my life, I wouldn’t be here without it”. He also included, what was in his opinion, one of his best works, just the right amount of balance between showing his skill and dissing anyone who dared question his talent and legitimacy.

So, to say he was surprised when he walked onto the property of the address he was told to appear at in his acceptance email and saw the giant flashing, glittery sign reading “The Gay Agenda”, was an understatement. He checked and double checked his phone but nope, he was in the right place. He tentatively approached the building, thinking maybe it was a shared recording space and the show he was supposed to be in would be somewhere in the back. But as he was approaching the building, seeing the sign up closer, he stopped dead in his tracks. The sign looked weirdly familiar. He recognized the colors, the general shape, even the overload of glitter. When it dawned on him, he took out his phone slowly, dreading that it would confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, when he looked at the email one more time, right at the top, was a large, pink, glittery logo, clearly saying “The Gay Agenda”. Fuck. How could he have missed this? Searching back through his email history, he realized the logo had been on all the correspondence he had had with the studio, but he had simply never given the logo any attention.

Wracking his brain on what to do about the situation he found himself in, Yoongi quickly decided to just walk in, tell some secretary or PA or something that this was a giant misunderstanding and get the fuck out of there as soon as possible. Yup, that’s what he would do. Right now. The moment he was able to force himself to walk into the building. Which was….now.

When he finally decided that he looked like a crazy person, whispering to himself in the parking lot of a filming studio, Yoongi managed to actually make his body listen to him and walk into the studio.

It was surprising how little attention was paid to him. Right when he walked in, he almost knocked down a man carrying a clipboard and frantically yelling instructions into a headset. When he attempted to ask about who to talk to about his dilemma however, he was quickly waved off and left there to stand alone. Yoongi walked around a little more, trying to just find someone to talk to, and was just about to just leave and just not show up to whatever this show was, when he stopped dead in his tracks for the second time that day.

Looking back, it seemed like a shitty, cheesy, teenage rom-com. It felt like time had slowed down. His breathing stopped when he saw this…this...angel. That was truly the only way to describe the boy (man?) standing in front of him. He seemed to be glowing, mysteriously being lit up from behind, making him look even more ethereal. (Yoongi realized later it was just a stage light and felt a bit stupid but hey, in the moment he didn’t question it for one second). The boy was blonde, had a small, fucking adorable face, round cheeks, a small but strong stature and looked seriously out of this world.  His very tight jeans showed off his extremely well-toned thighs, which was contrasted by the oversized hoodie he was wearing. Yoongi was speechless. He had never seen someone that beautiful. Sure, he was very open with his preferences, liked pretty much anyone but god damn, something about this creature in front of him made him feel like he had never felt before.

When he came back to his senses, he was staring into the expectant eyes of the new love of his life, who seemed like he had just asked him something. Oh shit.

“Uhh, sorry, what?” Yoongi said intelligently, facepalming inwardly.

The angel laughed. “I just asked if I could help you with something, you seemed a little lost there,” came the reply (fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s so cute). His dazzling smile made his eyes almost disappear into half-moon crescents, his round cheeks bunching up. Yoongi felt a little faint, awkwardly leaning more into the wall to his right in an attempt to keep himself upright.

Five minutes ago, Yoongi was determined to tell the show-runners exactly what he thought and get out of there. But now…. Now was different. So, without him really giving his mouth permission to, Yoongi kind of just blurted out, “I’m here for the show.” Great.

It wasn’t technically a lie. He was here for the show. It just wasn’t what he thought he had signed up for and definitely not something he would ever sign up for had he known, but the situation was completely different now. He doesn’t even know the name of the angel person before him yet, but Yoongi knows he would already die for him. Which….yikes. he really needs to get a grip on himself.

The man once again smiled his million-watt smile.

“Oh great! Some of the others are here already too. Let me take you to the green room so we can get you show ready! I’m Jimin by the way, I’ll be on the show with you! If you have any questions or concerns or anything at all really, please don’t hesitate to hit me up!”

Yoongi was so entranced, he hadn’t even noticed that they had apparently walked to the green room while talking.

“Here you go! I’ll be off to get ready myself then. See you later, cutie,” Jimin said and left Yoongi in front of the closed door. It took Yoongi almost 10 seconds to process that Jimin had just called him cutie and promptly had a mini break down.

When he managed to compose himself, he turned towards the door and with a quick thought of “here we fucking go, I guess”, pressed down the handle.

Ok, so don’t get Yoongi wrong, he is an out, proud, big-ass Bi, but this really wasn’t his scene.

Standing in the doorway, Yoongi just kind of gaped at the room in front of him. There were about 20 other people, presumably the other contestants, who seemed to be massively varied in ages, stature and personalities. Considering his social anxiety, this realllllly didn’t seem to be his thing and for the 100th time that day, he begins to question why he was still there and why he was doing this to himself. The thought of Jimin creeped back into the back of his mind and he just sighed before getting over himself, and walking in.

‘This day is really getting worse and worse,’ Yoongi thought to himself as he was sitting in the crash course that the contestants had to take before being quote “sent out there to do some damage”.

Once again, the only light at the end of the tunnel for Yoongi was that Jimin was the one who was leading the crash course. He had changed out of his causal outfit from earlier and was now wearing a velvet blazer with gold embellishments, an almost see-through white shirt underneath and another pair of sinfully tight black pants. He had a light dusting of eyeshadow on and his hair had been neatly styled. It had taken everything in Yoongi to not moan out loud when Jimin had walked into the room.

Yoongi had also had his makeup done, and someone had ruffled through his hair, but other than that he was still in the same clothes that he had arrived in. Suddenly he felt very underdressed in his sweater jacket, white tank top and black jeans.

A very enthusiastic Jimin began by explaining all the rules and goals of the show to all the contestants once again, which Yoongi was very thankful for, since even though most other contestants looked like they knew all this already, probably being avid watchers of the show, Yoongi had no fucking clue what he was even supposed to do or competing for.

“So, now that we’ve got all the admin out of the way, lets talk strategy!” Jimin said with a large grin on his face.

“Obviously, everyone here will have a slightly different approach. We all have our preferred flirting methods and there is nothing wrong with that, I’m not here to tell you what to do. The point of this is to simply give you some ideas and starting points, should you run out of ideas or need some help getting your brain thinking. So obviously there’s the classics. A little smile, a little bit of beating your lashes, leaning over the counters more than strictly necessary, ‘accidentally bumping into someone’, you know the drill. One of my favourites will always be cheesy pick-up lines, if I’m honest. I am aware that they are not everyone’s cup of tea, and you should definitely try to get a feel for what kind of person they are before you drop one, but if they seem like they would be accepting, they can go a long way. They can be flattering or simply a brilliant ice breaker and they are always pretty funny”, Jimin said with a slight giggle.

Yoongi’s hand immediately shot into the air.

“Yes, Yoongi-hyung, may I call you hyung by the way?”

“Oh yeah of course. Hey Jimin, did it hurt when you feel from heaven? Because someone like you simply can’t be from this world,” he said with a smug smile. Jimin immediately laughed, seeming to put his entire body into the action which made Yoongi’s heart ache fondly.

“Something like that, exactly. You’re a fast learner,” Jimin said. Yoongi couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit disappointed at the fact that Jimin seemed to think he was only doing this for the sake of the course, and hadn’t actually meant what he said, but the light blush dusting Jimin’s cheeks as he continued giving more tips, made him keep a sliver of hope.

“Moving on, all of you must be wondering what today's shooting location will be. Well we are all going to be in a mall that has been completely fitted with hidden cameras and prepped to capture all your interactions. You can choose whether you want to be a clerk in a certain store or just be a customer, its completely up to you. If you choose to be a clerk, I would suggest though that you choose a store that has something to do with your interests, so it looks at least a little bit like you know what you are doing.”

“Will you also be there?” Yoongi asks.

“Yes, I will, I will work at the jewellery store right here in the corner”, Jimin replies while pointing to the store on the map of the mall he pulled up. Yoongi makes a mental note to remember exactly where it is, so he can ‘coincidentally’ walk by as many times as possible later on.

He also takes note of the record store a few stores down. He immediately fills out the form they were given, stating that he would like to work there, since it would make it easier to actually get people to talk to him if he looks to be working in a store, and music is basically his entire life, so it just feels right.

He ends up working in the record store with a barely legal kid called Jisung, who vaguely resembles a squirrel and has way too much energy for Yoongi to handle. Sure, the kids’ cool and seems to really know his stuff. They talk about producing and music for a really long time, since Jisung is interested in studying music production just like Yoongi. Yoongi can tell he has a talent for lyrics and he’s impressed by the rap that Jisung performs for him, but there’s only so much excited talking and yelling and gesturing Yoongi can take all at once.

He decides to go see what Jimin is up to and ‘randomly’ walk by the jewellery store a little bit down the hall.

“Hey Jisung, I’m gonna go out for a while, you good?” he asks Jisung, while already half way out of the door.

Jisung looks like a dear in headlights but replies with a short, stuttered “oh, okay hyung.”

He makes his way to the store and walking in, he is once again blown away by Jimin’s beauty. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. He approaches the counter and decides, for the sake of the show, and since there are other people too, to just pretend to be a customer.

“Hello, I’m looking to get some custom rings made, do you do that here?”, he asks a confused looking Jimin.

“Uh hi, yeah Sir we do those, what would you like?” Jimin thankfully plays along.

“Okay, so. Hear me out. I want 4 rings, one for each of these fingers (he points to his pointy to pinky fingers) right? And I want them like big ass rings with like glittery stones and like you know those rings rappers have? Like that. And I want each one to be a different letter and I want them to spell out SUGA. You think you can do something like that?”

Jimin looks confused as fuck and maybe even a little bit bewildered.

“Um ok, I think I understand what you mean, Sir. You are aware that this will probably cost quite a bit, yes?”

“Whatever it takes, I’m very dedicated to the idea.”

“If I may ask, why SUGA?”

Yoongi leans in, as if to let Jimin in on a secret and whispers, “because I’m sweet like sugar, babe” while winking horribly.

When he pulls away, Jimin is looking at him with the most done expression on his face that Yoongi has ever seen someone pull.

The audience and panel, who have been watching their interaction from the studio, burst out laughing at the way Jimin looks into the camera like he’s on the office, rolling his eyes so far back, only the whites of his eyes are visible.

“So, what do we know about Yoongi? He seems to be quite the rebel here, hitting on our lovely Jimin rather than literally anyone else,” Heechul says with amusement.

“Well hyung, his application was rather unusual, I must say. Rather than write about why he wanted to be on our show, he wrote about his passion for music, how he’s been playing the piano since he was a kid and boasting about his, admittedly, excellent rapping skills,” Holland explained.

“Wait, I’m confused, why was he accepted then? It sounds like he said nothing about this show and wanting to be on it at all?”, Key questioned.

“Well, with his application, he also admitted a demo song called ‘Cypher pt.3’. The lyrics are well… suggestive of his sexuality. He mentions, and I quote ‘Like you all know my voice turns people on, whether it be men or women, my flexible tongue movements will send them to Hong Kong’. I guess recruitment saw potential?”

“Well my man Yoongi certainly has a lot of faith in his oral skills,” Key said with a way too suggestive wink. “Gotta hope Jimin goes for him or I might have to myself.”

“Now, now, hyung, please keep it in your pants,” Holland mediated, but failed to keep a grin off his face.

While Jimin is a little irritated by the fact that Yoongi is still hanging out with him and clearly not attempting to even look at anyone that isn’t Jimin, instead of actually doing what he is supposed to, he can’t help but feel a little flattered at the fact that this (really fucking hot) guy has chosen to say fuck it, and just hang out with him. He really tries to not encourage Yoongi any further, but as much as he doesn’t want it to, his face eventually betrays him and he starts smiling at the horribly cheesy pick-up lines Yoongi keeps throwing his way.

After he’s finally gotten a smile from Jimin, Yoongi doesn’t leave the jewellery store for the rest of the show, even though Jimin repeatedly tells him that this is not what he’s supposed to do and he wont win if he stays. Yoongi honestly doesn’t give the slightest fuck about winning, considering this isn’t what he signed up for in the first place.

In the end, he gets bad marks from the judges, which was to be expected. He didn’t talk to a single person that wasn’t Jisung or Jimin the whole day and it didn’t even cross his mind to go look for a guy to chat up. On the one hand, it was definitely a consequence of the fact that he had not singed up for this show in the first place. On the other hand, even if he could’ve been convinced to participate, after seeing Jimin, that idea would’ve been scrapped pretty quickly. There was just no way that Yoongi could go after anyone else, when someone like Jimin existed.

After the recording had finished, everyone was back in the green room, changing, taking off their makeup, generally relaxing after a whole day of filming. Yoongi was ready to get the fuck out of there, sick of having a camera shoved in his face all day and his social battery was running pretty low. He was about to say goodbye and bolt, when Jimin walked in again, now back in his jeans and hoodie that he had worn when Yoongi first met him. Sure, Jimin had looked downright ethereal in the velvet outfit he had worn during the taping, but Yoongi couldn’t help but prefer his casual look, messy hair and makeup free face.

“Hey peeps! I hope all of you had lots and lots of fun today! I totally understand if you just want to get home, but I thought I would extend the invitation anyways: me and a bunch of the panel and crew are going out for a drink at a club around the corner, so anyone who would like to, is welcome to come! Well, unless you’re underage, sorry kids!” Jimin said with an apologetic smile towards the younger contestants.

Yoongi reallllllly wanted to go home and vegetate on his couch with a bag of chips and watch shitty reality tv reruns, but deep down he knew, as soon as Jimin invited them, that he would tag along. He hadn’t managed to convince Jimin to give him his phone number all day and he wasn’t about to let this perfect opportunity slip by him.

Which is how a tired, lowkey grumpy and Definitely-Not-Ready-for-This Yoongi ended up in a gay club on a Thursday night with a bunch of people he’d only met that day. He was beginning to regret it though, because as soon as they had arrived, he’d lost sight of Jimin who was being pulled along by some way too hyper kid called Taehyung (Yoongi thinks, he isn’t great with names).

He was about to turn and leave, when he saw him again. Now, up until this moment, Yoongi had believed that Jimin was some sort of angel, sent to him from heaven to make him see exactly what he was missing out on and what paradise would look like. Jimin had been this pure ray of light that was just too good to be true.

But in about 0.01 seconds, his outlook changed a whole 180 degrees. Now he was convinced Jimin was a demon, sent from hell to torture him in any way possible. Not only was he cute and adorable and clearly sculpted by the gods, but the way he was moving those hips and well-toned thighs in those tight pants was downright sinful.  There was just no other way to describe it.

Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat when Jimin turned and made eye-contact with him. His hips never stopped moving and Jimin’s face curled into a lowkey predatory smirk, his eyes dropping half closed (which was about the most attractive thing Yoongi had ever seen in his entire life). Yoongi quickly realized that he had been caught staring and turned away, feeling his face rapidly heat up. He must look like a goddamn fool, caught with his mouth hanging wide open, red as a tomato. Way to be subtle.

He startled when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He spun his barstool around way too quickly and almost knocked over Jimin, who was now standing way too close to him.

Jimin leaned in, so Yoongi could feel his hot breath on his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I saw you looking, hyung. Did you like what you saw?”

Yoongi temporarily lost his ability to speak. He had flirted with Jimin all day, but the boy had only had shy giggles and small smiles for him in return. Jimin being so forward and flirty was throwing Yoongi for a loop.

“Y-yes,” he managed to stutter out.

“You know, hyung, this isn’t a look but don’t touch situation. I wouldn’t mind if you touched, too,” Jimin said and leaned away again to gage Yoongi’s reaction.

Yoongi spluttered for a second, trying to find an appropriate response. Jimin seemed to have mercy on him. He was holding out his hand, an invitation to the dance floor.

Now Yoongi was not a dancer. He was a rapper, a lyricist, a producer. He was excellent at all those things, but dancing? He looked like a drunk grandpa at a wedding.

But when Jimin held out his hand, Yoongi couldn’t deny him. He let himself be dragged onto the dance floor, and when Jimin turned around, pressed his (glorious) ass into his crotch, put Yoongi’s hands on his waits and started to rock his hips, Yoongi’s brain short circuited. He stood completely stiff for at least 20 seconds, before Jimin turned his head to look at him with a questioning gaze. He quickly broke out of his trance, tightened his grip on Jimin’s waist and began to move.

Yoongi didn’t ever think he’d get so into dancing, but he really started enjoying himself. Sure, it was probably due to the fact that he had the hottest man alive grinding, not so subtlety, on his dick but whatever. His hands had migrated under Jimin’s shirt at some point, touching the glorious abs that seemed to be there and Jimin’s hands were fisted into his hair, pulling slightly, not that he minded.

It seemed like Jimin had hit a breaking point, when he suddenly turned around forcefully, cupped Yoongi’s face with both his hands and smashed his lips against his. The instant heat that came over Yoongi was glorious and he couldn’t believe that Jimin was kissing him. He moaned into the kiss, pulled Jimin impossibly closer.

Later, when Yoongi was stroking Jimin’s bare back, who he was lying with his head on his chest, drawing slow circles with his fingers, both of them a little out of breath, he thought back to how his day had started. This was certainly not the ending he had predicted, but he certainly wasn’t complaining one little bit.

Pt. 1 

[firesoulstuff]

Lance-Start Family Christmas

Ok so technically I’m nine minutes late with this but here’s my day 5 for #ccweek2018.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15585093

“Are you sure your mom won’t mind Lisa coming?” Leonard asks as he pulls on his sweater. It’s Christmas and so The Legends have returned to 2018 to celebrate the holidays.

“Please,” Sara snorts, still brushing her hair. “My mom may as well have adopted Lisa at this point.”

Right, he knows that, but he had still wanted to make sure.

It’s been almost two years since the team rescued him from The Legion of Doom’s brainwashing. Upon returning to the land of the living, as Mick had put it, he discovered that a lot had changed in the year he’d been “gone”. Sara had become Captain for starters, and the team had lost three Legends whilst adding two. Then they all discovered that in defeating the Legion they broke time and Rip promptly confiscated The Waverider and fired them all. It was on the way back to Central City that he learned Sara had gone with Mick a year ago to tell Lisa about his sacrifice. This was on top of learning for herself that her sister had died in the time she’d been away, so she’d also stopped by her mother’s loft apartment in Central. He still isn’t clear if Lisa had followed on her own or if Sara had asked her to go along, but either way his sister had somehow ended up with Sara in the loft and now every time that Sara talked to her mother the women had something to report about Lisa.

It warms Leonard’s heart, in all honesty, considering Lisa never got the chance to know their mother.

(Which is just fine by him, because a woman willing to just walk out on her two children and leave them with Lewis is not a woman he would’ve wanted his sister knowing.)

Anyway, when he says report he doesn’t mean that the former Mrs. Lance, a name she still uses despite her divorce, is simply keeping tabs on Lisa for them. Oh no, during those five months after they had been fired from being Legends Sara was living with her mother and that was how they learned Lisa stops by to visit the older woman at least twice a week, if not more. Supposedly it started as meeting up for coffee but at this point it’s progressed into hanging out and, like Sara said, it’s probably a safe bet that Dinah has all but adopted Lisa by now.

“Right,” Len says, grabbing Sara’s jacket and holding it open for her two slip her arms into. “Just making sure.”

When they get to Dinah’s apartment Lisa is already there, and so are Mick and Amaya.

“What are you two doing here?” Len asks upon seeing his best friend and his should-be-girlfriend.

“Lisa found us,” Mick grunts, “Went down to Saints and Sinners, were barely there five minutes before Lisa came and told us to come here.”

He raises an eyebrow at his sister, about to ask why she thought it would be a good idea to bring Mick to Sara’s mother’s place, or why she thought it was even appropriate to ask.

But, as she opens up the coat closet and takes Sara’s jacket, Dinah explains before he can fault Lisa.

“I asked her if she knew what the others on your team were doing. She told me these two would probably just end up at the bar so I told her to go get them and bring them back here.” She explains, “I tried to call and ask Sara but I don’t think your ship gets all of my calls.”

“Sorry mom,” Sara apologizes with a roll of her eyes, “Service can be a little spotty in 1793.”

Dinah rolls her own eyes and then beckons them further inside, talking almost a million miles a minute as she asks Sara what it is they’ve been up to.

Whilst Sara is tugged into the room by her mother Lisa comes up and gives him a hug, which he returns gratefully. Her grip is a little firmer than usual but he can’t blame her for it, as this is the first time she’s seen him since the Legends got back together.

“So, no stupid self-sacrifices this time around?” She asks, a teasing glint in her eyes, and he smirks at her.

“Not yet,” he promises, and with smirk Lisa brings him further into the room.

Sara can’t help but to smile to herself as she and Lisa clean up after dinner so that her mother doesn’t have to, a sort of thank you for having them all over for Christmas. It doesn’t surprise her that Lisa knows where everything belongs around the kitchen, even things Sara doesn’t know herself.

“How long are you guys home for?” The younger of the Snart siblings asks, pulling Sara from her thoughts as she rinses off the tray her mom had the ham on.

“So long as nobody blows up the timeline, we’re hoping to stay until after New Years.” She replies and Lisa smiles.

“You going to the party at Star Labs?” She asks almost excitedly and Sara sighs, though she can’t help but to smile.

“Probably, is my mom going?” She questions, not a doubt in her mind that Lisa will have an answer for her, and sure enough the brunette shakes her head.

“I’m trying to convince her to go but she keeps saying she doesn’t want to ‘step in on the kids’ fun’, her words not mine.”

“Please,” Sara laughs, “I’m sure Joe and Cecil are going. But hey, if she prefers to ring in the New Year drinking wine with Clarissa, it isn’t the worst way to go.”

Lisa smirks in agreement but refrains from saying anything, as just in that moment their topic of conversation walks through the door.

“Lisa honey, do you remember where I put that photo album I had the other day? I had it all out and ready and-”

“In your office.” Lisa supplies before Dinah can finish, not that Sara even wants to know what photo album her mother is referring to, never mind what she could possibly be doing with it.

“Thank you,” Dinah breathes in relief, then turns back on her heel and marches back out towards the living room.

Sara chuckles as she goes; enough that it draws Lisa’s attention.

“What?” The other woman asks, a mock annoyed tone to her voice.

“Nothing it’s just… you do realize you’re her favorite daughter, right?” For a moment Lisa looks stunned, her eyes wide, and it’s only when she starts looking guilty that Sara realizes what she must be thinking, that she might feel replaced, and she quickly turns off the sink.

“No I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” she quickly assures the other woman. “I just mean… Laurel’s gone and even before, it isn’t like she came around here very often. And I’m not around all that much, even before the Legends I was always off doing my own thing. Look, maybe I overstepped, I don’t know how you see her, but I can tell she looks at you like you’re her daughter and-”

“You didn’t overstep,” Lisa interrupts; so quiet that Sara nearly misses it, which is very out of character for the other woman.

Or at least, that’s what Sara would’ve thought.

It doesn’t seem wrong now, looking at her. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her eyes fixed at a point on the wall just behind Sara, though near enough to her head that a less observant person might believe she isn’t looking past them. She’s been here before, scared to test her limits, a long time ago.

“I don’t call her mom or anything like that, but…I didn’t want to overstep.” She explains and a small smile finds it’s way to Sara’s face.

She crosses the kitchen until she’s standing just in front of Lisa, with Lisa wearing heels the height difference between them is almost as much as it is between her and Leonard. She puts her hand on the other woman’s shoulder, looking up to meet her eyes.

“You’re not overstepping,” she promises, “Ever.”

With Amaya and Mick sufficiently distracted by an album of pictures from Sara’s younger years, something he is definitely going to need to find time to look at later, and Sara with his sister in the kitchen cleaning up, Leonard follows Dinah into her office.

“I can’t thank you enough for letting Mick come here, not to mention for keeping tabs on my sister while I’m on the Waverider.” He says as he closes the door behind him, and he can’t help but notice the degrees hanging on Dinah’s wall and think that once upon a time she might have been exactly the type of person he would have robbed. Now he’s come in here to ask her for something, something he’d never considered he’d even want from anyone. Oh how times have changed.

“Please, do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve spent the holidays at home?” The woman scoffs while rolling her chair out from behind her desk, “I love having people to invite over. And Lisa! She’s always such a help to me. Around the house and the university, she’s such a wonderful young woman.”

Well, he’s always happy to hear that.

“But,” Dinah continues with a knowing look on her face, “You didn’t ask to talk with me alone to discuss your sister and your friend, what’s on your mind?” He knew Sara had to get her perception from somewhere.

He’s quiet while he sits down in the other chair she has in the small room, carefully thinking through what he’s going to say.

“Well, I’ve been thinking. I know I don’t have the best record, legally, but the man in those files isn’t who I am, not anymore. I’m not perfect but-”

“Oh enough Leonard!” She suddenly cuts him off, “Are you going to propose to my daughter or not?”

For a few seconds all he can do is blink at her, stunned, while she stares at him expectantly waiting for an answer.

“I…” He eventually manages to stutter out, his throat dry. “I would like to. But, I wanted your, your blessing first. Or at the very least your opinion.”

“My only request Leonard is that you don’t just get married on a random day while you’re off gallivanting through time, I want to come to my daughter’s wedding.”

“Of course,” he swears, nodding his head along attentively.

She smiles sweetly at him, almost amused, when they suddenly hear the voice of the woman they both love so very dearly shouting from the next room. “Mom!”

She sounds like a horrified teenager, and if Mick’s loud laughter is anything to go by he and Amaya must have stumbled upon a very embarrassing picture.

“Well,” Dinah says, “We had better get back out there.”

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Carlos you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Andromeda Tonks!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

We were so pleased and excited to see your application in our inbox and we are thrilled to be able to welcome both you and your Andromeda into the roleplay. It was clear from both your questionnaire answers and the lovely para sample that you did that you have a strong vision of her and brought her to life. You showed the ties that she still has to her family  - even in the way that she acts - despite her decision and the conflict that she still feels over it The feistiness and determination that you showed so well will undoubtedly be great to see on the dash and we’re excited to see what you will do with her! 

application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

I go by Carlos, 25, and I prefer she/her and I am currently leaving in Hawaii – I just moved here so I think the timezone is The Hawaii–Aleutian Time Zone.

ACTIVITY

Probably 7-8 to be honest if not more. I am studying for the bar and have a job but I am on at last once a day.

TRIGGERS

None tbh. But if I do remember any I will send you guys a message.

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

Via a recommendation.

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

Lol I would say Hermione because I was in love with her when I was little. I know – everyone tends to be because of how smart she is and brave but as I have grown I have realized I truly do admire and identify with Luna the most. That was because she had such a wild imagination and didn’t let logic get her stuck in her ways so that she was able to believe in the impossible. She never apologized for being unique and she never thought of herself os strange or odd but just unique which I have come to realize is the truth about every single of us. Not to mention that she was the most legit Ravenclaw <3

ANYTHING ELSE?

None at all.

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Andromeda Tonks

FACE CLAIM

Jenna Louise Coleman

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

I choose Andromeda because I love how she came from a family that believed in something so strongly but she was able to make up her mind when it came to right and wrong and was able to stick with it. She didn’t give blind loyalty and stood up for what she thought was right though it ended up costing her both of her sisters and her family. I don’t think that she turned her back on her family but rather on their beliefs and I don’t believe that it was all because of Edward, I think that Edward gave her the confidence and the push that she needed – the bravery that she had always had by giving her a solid ground to land on. I believe that she always knew that she didn’t have the same beliefs or common mindsets and I am sure that she would battle with her parents and family members during dinners and perhaps an afternoon talk and push her best to get her family to see her perspective and respect it but always ended up knowing deep down that the day when she would have to turn her back was drawing closer every day.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Andromeda/Chemistry & Andromeda/Edward. She is heterosexual. She/Her. Andromeda looks at love as two independent people that enter into an unspoken contract to be there for each other – be each others teammate in life and love them unconditionally as well as respect them. She really believed in that when she left her family and even the moments that it creeps in that she feels like she did wrong because at the end of the day what kind of person turns against their family and not feel an ache? She doesn’t regret her decision and if she had to do it all over again it would be the same but that doesn’t erase the pain that comes from having to turn your back on people that raised you and you love not to mention seeing her sisters – especially her younger one – every other day and not being able to talk to them like before.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

( X ) & ( X )

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

“The spell for someone to stop asking idiotic questions? Imagine how much time we would’ve saved just now.” She replied without hesitation. Even though the question did not make it on the top ten stupid questions that she had ever been asked throughout her life there was still the need to not let an opportunity to sass the interviewer up. It had actually been a question she herself had thought about every now and then and the best she had come up with was a spell that open people’s mind to other opinions and perspective, but even that felt wrong to a degree.

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

“Edward – and my motorcycle. I know I could probably just conjure one with my want – but vintage is something that one can’t just replicate. Food would be taken care of – I am sure that if cave man were successful that I will be just fine.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

“Ones involving food – cause you know eating next is the most important decision to make,” Andromeda scarastically responded knowing full well that the real answer was any decisions relating to her family, especially the lastest of turning her back on them. Of course it didn’t take any idiot to realize that – any idiot that knew who she was and what she had done and anyone else didn’t need to know.

♔ What is one thing you would never want to be said about you?

“You act like I care what anyone says about me – but I suppose if this was some important interview in which I was forced to give an reasonable answer to then it would have to be that I lacked the courage and conviction to do the right thing – that I let my personal feelings get in the way – some sentimental thing like that.”

REACTION TO LAST EVENT DROP

The plot drop was amazing! I believe that Andromeda would do her best to push for the two groups to be brought together and get them to see that they’re stronger if they both get on the same track and work together than just scrambling around like headless chickens. Maybe she would’ve tried going to the engagement party to see her younger sister, since I imagine it had been a while since she had seen her.

WRITING SAMPLE

It was 3 am. No one was up. To everyone else a drop of a pin would wake him or her up but not to Andromeda. Not at all. Her thoughts were louder than London on its busiest day. The idea of going back to sleep was quickly discarded, she knew too well that was not an option. Once upon a time she had heard that was the time people that were not at peace with themselves woke up. In another place and time, she had once read that it was the exact time that evil was at its strongest. These were all muggle ideas and thoughts and even though Andromeda didn’t believe in them completely she couldn’t deny them either. Her dreams always managed to wake her up at the same exact time over and over. The dreams had gotten better throughout time. Actually, that was a lie. She had gotten better at handling them due to her fear of always waking up Edward. So there she was again laying in bed and staring at the ceiling above her. Playing over her latest dream in her head again. A dream that she didn’t need any interpretation for. None of her dreams did, most of them just had her standing in front of the graves of her sisters. Of feeling the unbearable ache of losing them and knowing that their last words had not been words of kindness.

Though all the years before should have prepared her for the destruction that had taken place it hadn’t. Logically she had done the right thing. Deep down the brunette knew that she would not have been able to live with herself if she hadn’t taken the choice she had and yet to a degree she was inconsolable. The look on Narcissa’s face when it became evident that Andromeda was turning her back on them was permanently ingrained in her head. How her actions had come across to her baby sister as a betrayal when it hadn’t been like that. Andromeda could not support her families belief but that did not mean that she didn’t love or care for them. She had turned her back on the pureblood thought of mind, not on her sisters, but it became evident all too soon that technicalities did not matter. Not to her family. It would have been easier on Andromeda’s spirit if by refusing to follow the certain beliefs of her family meant all emotional ties were erased, but it was not that simple. Though perhaps it was not as complicated as she was making it out to be. Narcissa’s disowning her was perhaps the one that cut the deepest. She had enjoyed a special bond with her younger sister. Both of them had leaned on each other, though Narcissa was a loyal to the pureblood ideology the reasons why they were close outnumbered that philosophy. Or so Andromeda had hoped so – and if she was completely honest she was still hoping. It was why she still reached out to her sister. Why Narcissa was the only person she allowed to insult her and why Andromeda kept going back trying to get her to see her reasons. To see that even though the rest of her family might never accept her or acknowledge her that Narcissa did not have to do that to her; that there was another option.

Tilting her head on her pillow her brown hues laid Edward’s perfect silhouette lying beside her. He was the reminder that what she had done was something that was inevitable. If it hadn’t happened then it would’ve happened later. Edward had just managed to push her to face reality sooner than she had wanted to. The love that she held for him had made her stop running from herself. There was a peace of mind that overcame her – it was the unexplainable effect that he had on her. He made her braver than she had ever thought possible. Questioning whether she did the right thing was perhaps just a new norm that she was going to have to get used to. Even though she knew she did, the ache of the loss that came with it was a feeling demanded to be felt. Though Andromeda never held the conviction that emotions made individuals weak this feeling was one that she would have to control on her own. After all 3 am were not a sign that she was not at peace with herself or that it was the timeframe that another force won, 3 am was just Andromeda fighting her own demons and making peace with what was.

[pippki-writes]

An Ill-Fitting Name: Snippet 6

NOTES:

Snippet 1; Snippets 2 & 3; Snippet 4; Snippet 5

%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Isaiah James is fourteen, and has been studying magic nearly his whole life. Well, to be precise, half his whole life, but since seven is the age of reason, anything from before that age can hardly be counted toward the tally of his life, in his opinion. So, as far as Isaiah is concerned, nearly his whole life.

He will need everything he’s learned and then some, for what he has planned.

Isaiah is lucky. His mentor prefers young women, the common cliche of the horrid old man collecting virginities, and hasn’t touched Isaiah in that way. Though he has made him watch, more than once, the way a concerned mother cat might show a kitten how to complete a kill, and has made comments more than once—“don’t you want this, boy?” Isaiah would watch, stone faced, and tip his head in an ambiguous sort of way which his mentor could read as pleased him. What his mentor read—yes, but I am not: ready? brave? willing to take, by force or enchantment, not yet, not yet. Whatever he read in this gesture, it was always enough to satisfy for now. What Isaiah meant—I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.

But that’s not entirely true either, because an idea has taken shape in his mind of something big and terrible that he does want. The question every day—is he ready? The answer in his own mind, every time—not yet. So he continues to learn, to read, to ask questions.

“You’re as sharp as that knife,” replies his mentor, nodding to the knife in Isaiah’s hand, pressed to a pretty throat, waiting as Isaiah watches, savors the fear in the eyes frozen in the face above the throat, the eyes alone shaking because the rest of the body he has skillfully bound with spells to keep still. Isaiah has distracted himself from the task at hand with a question, and he asks as his mentor watches and critiques the boy’s technique. “Maybe sharper. Though that might just be because you haven’t sharpened that knife in too long. Look at her throat, there ought to at least be a little bleeding, a slight cut from the pressure of the knife and blood like little jewels squeezing forth with power fresh for you to draw on. Check her neck. Want to bet there’s not?”

Isaiah doesn’t sigh, though he wants to, and reminds himself not to let his mentor slip out of the question. He pulls the knife away from the neck, unthreads his fingers from the girl’s hair, and looks closely at her neck. He squeezes his thumb and fingers on either side of the faint line where the knife had been, but his mentor, as usual, is right. No blood. The knife has grown dull with work.

“Easy power for the taking, breaking the seal on the flesh to draw out the blood, and all you need do boy is keep your damned knife sharp. Why is that so hard for you?”

Isaiah has been distracted lately is all.

His mentor taught him magic and murder, but his mother taught him suffering. To hit. To hurt. To leave no mark. Words were usually her preference, but often she was too drunk to care, enraged by some perceived slight of something Isaiah had or hadn’t done. It wasn’t him specifically; she seemed to hold scorn and resentment for all her children. Isaiah simply seemed to be the worst at getting out of her way. He could have killed her a thousand times over, but he did not. He wasn’t sure exactly why he didn’t. Maybe because it would have given her some perverse victory to be free of them all? Because in spite of everything, she was still his mother, and that was supposed to mean something? He didn’t know, and didn’t want to ask himself too closely. Instead, he found girls with the same Cupid’s bow lips as hers, hair the same shade of faded out blond, in arrogant curls when possible, and lured them in, brought them back to the very normal looking two story suburban home of his mentor, brought them to the basement, or to the walled-off back yard, and held them there, testing his magic, looking to his mentor for approval as he would decide—yes or no, to let the vocal cords free just enough to whimper; yes or no, to allow movement in the face, the better for each victim to paint her own picture of fear and anguish.

Her—always women. Girls. Isaiah wouldn’t mind getting his hands on another boy one of these days, but he knew better than to tell anyone else that. So instead he killed young copies of his mother, over and over, and it brought him some small satisfaction to do so.

What he had asked, and asked again, after the throat was cut (with more force than would have been required had his knife been sharp), after the blood spilled over his hands, running rivers over his fingers, brought curiously to his lips and singing with the power of life now lost, was this:

“If one of these girls had magic, could I steal it?”

They’ve discussed sources of power that can be drawn upon, and how to take so many things, but never the concept of taking someone else’s magic. But it’s just logical. Surely it can be done.

His mentor grins wickedly. “We’re getting into some real dark magic now.”

Isaiah knows many things. He knows the power that a true name holds. He knows that he will, he will get out of this town at any cost. He knows how his mentor likes to talk, to teach, to correct, and because technically he is stronger and more magically powerful than Isaiah, his mentor never thinks that Isaiah could turn against him. The thought doesn’t even occur to him, and if it did, what a laugh! Let the boy try, and surely he would be struck down. So it is that Isaiah easily learns how to steal the magic of another, the sigils to draw, the words that must be spoken, the precise manner in which blood should be spilled, the chest cut open, the heart pulled and devoured from within the dark protected place where it should dwell.

He is nearly ready.

The last time Isaiah sees his mother, though at the time he didn’t know it would be the last time, he is simply trying to sneak in and out of the house without being caught. As usual, he has no luck in this matter. There she is at the bottom of the stairs as he comes down, she clutching a nearly empty glass in which a few ice cubes settle uncomfortably, he with a book bag slung over his shoulder and a closed-off expression. She is looking up at him darkly, and the hour is late. By the look on her face, she is deep along some well-worn rant in the bitter swamps of her mind, too drunk to come up with anything original. The old refrains will do just fine for her hatred.

“Woe to the wicked,” she hisses at Isaiah, as she has so many times before. “It shall be ill with him, for what his hands have dealt out shall be done to him.”

He shakes his head. He is only fourteen, and a slender, thinly-built fourteen at that, whereas she wears her years built up on her frame like a brick wall. But he is not in the mood to hear more. He pushes past her, muttering magic to himself enough to shove her aside as he goes, and runs off into the night.

Isaiah finds it is easy to accomplish the unexpected. He’d thought of all sorts of complicated plans, Trojan horses and distractions, charms and poisons and enchantments to open the door to opportunity, but realized he was overcomplicating things. All he had to do was wait for the next girl. His mentor was the insatiable sort.

The wait isn’t long.

And the universe, it seems, wants him to have this, because her screams are the sort particularly suited to distraction. His mentor does not notice Isaiah drawing sigils with both hands, calling upon his true name to bind him in place, driving a sharp knife into the back of his neck to break the seal on his flesh, to keep him from the chance of fighting back.

The girl Isaiah kills quickly, as a mercy. She doesn’t need to witness this. It never occurred to him to consider letting her go.

Isaiah has studied carefully, has practiced, and has drawn power to himself. Power. Freedom. This is what he wants, he thinks to himself as he draws the knife down, as he grabs ribs with both hands and cracks the chest open, as he burns a sigil in the still-beating heart before him to take the magic therein. He has steeled himself for months, and his movements are certain as his teeth complete the spell, as the blood paints his lips, dribbling down his chin. He takes—the magic, the name, the power for his own.

He can feel new magic in his veins, new power to draw on. His name—old name, now, he thinks, but his name nonetheless...is a liability. It holds a power over him, dangerous if anyone gets ahold of it. Isaiah had never done magic on mind and memory, but the old man had, and now his magic belonged to Isaiah. This, the final piece to put in place, something he only hoped and suspected he would be able to do, but now he is certain he can. He pulls a few books down from shelves, to make sure of the details. The old man’s body, blood pooling on the stone floor of the basement, he will deal with later.

Messing with the mind is dangerous stuff, but the boy is sharp and determined, and his fingers are sure as he draws sigils in the air before him. There is the name and all its meaning—Isaiah James—and he weaves the magic around it, a barrier, a lock, and he seals his name away, so far deep within himself that even he doesn’t know it anymore. He is not the name he has taken, and his true name lies far beyond himself. This spell is like an anchor, dragging a weakness down safely to depths he cannot reach, a chain that cannot be cut unless—but no. He is certain, with the confidence of all fourteen years olds, that death will not come for him, but if it does, then and only then will he give himself the chance to remember. It doesn’t matter. Remember what? His name is gone now, and the future lies before him, open and unwritten.

On a whim, he snaps the smallest broken rib off and cleans it in the sink before putting it in his bag. He finds the old man’s wallet, taking credit cards, cash, anything that seems useful. A few souvenirs and other trinkets that might be of value. The car keys to the old man’s unassuming silver sedan. Finally, as they had done together so many times, he draws his hands in the motions to send the body of his mentor far away where no cop will find it, uses magic to clean away any trace of blood. He locks the door behind him as he leaves. He doesn’t know where he’ll go, he thinks to himself as he puts the car in reverse and backs out of the driveway into the quiet night. He only knows where he’ll never return.

- NEXT SNIPPET -

[loadingjunction600]

Cyberlink Bd And 3d Advisor

CyberLink BD3D Advisor is a Shareware software in the category Miscellaneous developed by CyberLink Corp. It was checked for updates 251 times by the users of our client application UpdateStar during the last month. The latest version of CyberLink BD3D Advisor is 2.0.6410, released on. It was initially added to our database on 01.

Where can I download the free BD & 3D Advisor? How can I send the results to CyberLink Technical Support for analysis? Applied to: PowerDVD 12.0, PowerDVD 11.0, PowerDVD 10.

CyberLink BD & 3D Advisor. Check to see if your PC can play Blu-ray and 3D movies. CyberLink BD & 3D Advisor CyberLink PowerEncoder MPEG-4 AVC Edition.

Reply to this topic

Andrey73Newbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 25, 2016 04:09Messages: 8Offline

Solved bySep 25, 2016 04:27 Hi. I've got core i7 pc with nvidia 760 and tv philips 5500 connected via HDMI. I use external BD optical drive Asus connected via USB. When i insert bd 3d film it starts. In film's menu i choose 3d version to play, but powerdvd shows it in 2d mode. What should i do?

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at Sep 26. 2016 08:33

Webstudio73.com - Website developmentReply

stevekSenior ContributorPrivate MessageLocation: Houston, Texas USAJoined: Jan 25, 2011 12:18Messages: 4663Offline

Sep 25, 2016 08:54

Quote:Hi. I've got core i7 pc with nvidia 760 and tv philips 5500 connected via HDMI. I use external BD optical drive Asus connected via USB. When i insert bd 3d film it starts. In film's menu i choose 3d version to play, but powerdvd shows it in 2d mode. What should i do?

Is that TV 3D capable? I looked but could not find that it was. What did the 3D Advisor tell you. Get it by going to yjr Support Tab at the top of the page and download/run the Bd and 3d advisor.

I don;t think you have a 3D capable TV and if it were, then you don;t have the correct connection..

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at Sep 25. 2016 09:03

. . BoilerPlate: To posters who ask for help -- it is nice to thank the volunteers who try to answer your questions ! Anything I post unless stated with a reference is my personal opinion. Reply

Andrey73Newbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 25, 2016 04:09Messages: 8Offline

Sep 25, 2016 11:37

Thank you for your reply. It's a 3D TV. I can ran a MKV file on HDD with any 3D film and choose a correct 3D-mode (in TV menu) so it works. But now I've bought BD-ROM drive and 3D cartoons on Blu-ray disks. There is 2 modes in Blu-ray disk's menu: play the cartoon in 3D and play in 2D. If I choose play in 2D - it plays just as it should - in 2D. But if I choose 'Play in 3D' - it shows animated logo '3D Blue ray' and then stars the cartoon (animated logo and the cartoon play in 2D). 3D Advisor tells that all is good. I can do a screenshot if it helps. Webstudio73.com - Website development

Reply

stevekSenior ContributorPrivate MessageLocation: Houston, Texas USAJoined: Jan 25, 2011 12:18Messages: 4663Offline

Sep 25, 2016 12:25

Do you have any 3D blu ray discs that do play in 3D other than these cartoons? Do you have a friend or big box store where you can try the cartoons discs out? ? If you have the right equipment the discs may be defective. . . BoilerPlate: To posters who ask for help -- it is nice to thank the volunteers who try to answer your questions ! Anything I post unless stated with a reference is my personal opinion.

Reply

Andrey73Newbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 25, 2016 04:09Messages: 8Offline

Sep 25, 2016 14:16 I have bought the bundle of 3 bluray discs with cartoons.

Monster House

Open Season

Cloudy with a chance of meatballs

I think that they all are with the same 3D mechanism, so I am going to buy a 3D film to check how will it work. But now I am trying to find out what can affect to show 3D in 2D. Doesn't it should to show two same images playing in 3D if TV didn't understood 3D data automatically? Webstudio73.com - Website developmentReply

Andrey73Newbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 25, 2016 04:09Messages: 8Offline

Sep 26, 2016 07:12

well, the problem was in the external BD-drive Asus. It can't play 3D Blu-rays in 3D mode (asus's technical engineer told it then I called on the hotline) so I've returned it to the shop. I wonder how can it be? Doesn't drive only read and transfer data? Doesn't software do all other work? Webstudio73.com - Website development

Reply

stevekSenior ContributorPrivate MessageLocation: Houston, Texas USAJoined: Jan 25, 2011 12:18Messages: 4663Offline

Sep 26, 2016 08:24

Not so, everything has to work together. I am surprised that the 3D/BR advisor didn;t pick up the problem. Please edit the title of this thread (only you can) to indicate the problem is solved. . . BoilerPlate: To posters who ask for help -- it is nice to thank the volunteers who try to answer your questions ! Anything I post unless stated with a reference is my personal opinion.

Reply

Andrey73Newbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 25, 2016 04:09Messages: 8Offline

Sep 26, 2016 08:35

adviser doesn't check BD-Drive, so it couldn't detect it. Webstudio73.com - Website development

Reply

randomgeoNewbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 07, 2014 11:32Messages: 10Offline

Sep 30, 2016 19:28

AUDREY73, it may not be your BluRay player, if fact I doubt that it is since most modern BluRay readers/burners are capable of handling 3D. have you set up 3D in the Nvidia control panel? To set up your Nvidia card for 3D playback, open the Nvidia control panel (have 3D glasses handy) and run setup wizard for 'Set up Stereoscopic 3D'...this will get the 3D portion working, but will drop the resolution to 720p. You can manually increase the resolution to 1080p (1920 X 1080p) and it will look great, but, at least on my computer, it will create an audio lag, meaning the the lips are out of sync and that synch tends to get worse the longer that that movie plays. To repair the audio delay at higher resolutions, convert your movie in an MKV and play that back through PowerDVD. Super simple. MakeMKV beta is a great all in one tool for that purpose, or use whatever works for you. Hope that helps.

Reply

randomgeoNewbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 07, 2014 11:32Messages: 10Offline

Sep 30, 2016 19:53

PS The BluRay drive does only read and transfer data, the software does do all other work...

Reply

randomgeoNewbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 07, 2014 11:32Messages: 10Offline

Oct 01, 2016 00:32

One more essential piece that I forgot, you have to manually set 1080p 24 Hz in the PowerDVD 16 3D settings ('click' 3D Icon >More 3D Preferences > Display Device > HDMI 1.4 Enabled 3D TV (1080p 24Hz) after you up the resolution or else it will 'auto detect' 720p by default.

Reply

Andrey73Newbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 25, 2016 04:09Messages: 8Offline

Oct 01, 2016 02:14

well, the sterioscopic mode is turned off. When I try to switch it on the wizard asks to choose a mode, 'IR with USB', 'Wired glases' and there are no any mode with a simple 3D glases. Webstudio73.com - Website development

Reply

randomgeoNewbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 07, 2014 11:32Messages: 10Offline

Oct 01, 2016 02:58

When you connect to the TV with 3D glasses, does the TV see that that glasses are connected? (shows up on the screen?) If not, it might be a TV setting. Have you updated your Nvidia drivers? Are your HDMI cables recent? 1.4 spec is required, HDMI 2.0 is even better. Have you tested with a direct connection to the TV bypassing the receiver? (assuming that you have a receiver) To see if that's the issue? Perhaps try the wired option just to see if you can trick it to work... My work computer monitor outputs those options 'IR with USB', 'Wired glases' etc. but not my 3D TV HTPC computer, which goes straight into the 3D setup...so maybe something in the chain needs tweaking?

Reply

randomgeoNewbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 07, 2014 11:32Messages: 10Offline

Oct 01, 2016 03:01

Actually, I don'y think the 760 is HDMI 2.0 so that's not an issue, but you should have an HDMI that can handle 1.4.

Reply

randomgeoNewbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 07, 2014 11:32Messages: 10Offline

Cyberlink Bd And 3d Advisor For Mac

Oct 01, 2016 03:16

Another thing to attempt, check the box for stereoscopic mode to turn it on, and adjust the resolution refresh to 24 Hz and see if it just works. Definitely make sure that drivers are updated first.

Reply

Andrey73Newbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 25, 2016 04:09Messages: 8Offline

Cyberlink Bd And 3d Advisor Software Download

Oct 01. 2016 01:39

I've already returned external BD-drive to the store and have bought 3D-BD-Player Panasonic. Now 3D movies plays just fine. It's a pity that I hadn't manage to make it work. Webstudio73.com - Website development

Reply

randomgeoNewbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 07, 2014 11:32Messages: 10Offline

Oct 01, 2016 11:12

Well glad you got it working now, what got it working for you? Can you play it back in 1080p as a disc without the audio lag? Like I wrote above, Nvidia, for my system at least, defaults the 3D resolution to 720p and after I uped in to 1080p it had an audio lag, which is why I converted it to MKV. How's your playback?

Reply

Andrey73Newbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 25, 2016 04:09Messages: 8Offline

Oct 02, 2016 06:23

I've bought BD-Player and watch movies without computer now Webstudio73.com - Website development

Reply

randomgeoNewbie Private MessageJoined: Sep 07, 2014 11:32Messages: 10Offline

Oct 02, 2016 11:18

Simple and elegant

Cyberlink Bd And 3d Advisor

Reply

Ultra Hd Blu Ray Advisor

Reply to this topic

[fishphibian]

Horohoro, Faust, Chocolove, Mic, Silva, Peyote

It’s long so read more for more! (read more for all of it)

HoroHoro: What's your favorite season?Spring. I more or less consider it to be the real “new year” because it’s when things come back to life or are born. It’s also the season of the Anime North convention which is my favourite event of the year and probably the yearly event I look forward to the most.

Faust: Do you sleep a lot?Every day. Not as much as I would like to I suppose. It can be very difficult for me to sleep in most days, and I tend to stay up too late. I also have a very antagonistic relationship with naps. I can pretty much only nap when sick or when I am extremely sad; and I usually regret it as I wake up feeling awful half the time. I might have half a dozen good naps my entire life at most. Interestingly though, I am unable to perform “all nighters” on purpose. I have stayed completely awake for 24+ hours only once during the pre-Japan break-in crisis of 2013

Chocolove: Tell us your favorite joke.My favourite joke is more of a standup bit, search “The Salt and Pepper Diner.” It’s something that never fails to make me laugh. I am also a huge fan of the “lighthouse joke” but it’s very Canadian. In the interest of telling a joke instead of saying “look it up” I’ll post it here:This is the transcript of an actual radio conversation between a US naval ship and Canadian authorities off the coast of Newfoundland in October 1995. The Radio conversation was released by the Chief of Naval Operations on Oct. 10, 1995.US Ship: Please divert your course 0.5 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.CND reply: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision.US Ship: This is the Captain of a US Navy Ship. I say again, divert your course.CND reply: No. I say again, you divert YOUR course!US Ship: This is the aircraft carrier USS Lincoln, the second largest ship in the United States' Atlantic fleet. We are accompanied by three destroyers, three cruisers and numerous support vessels. I demand that YOU change your course 15 degrees north, that's one five degrees north, or countermeasures will be undertaken to ensure the safety of this ship.CND reply: This is a lighthouse. Your call.

Mic: What's your favorite animal?For simplicity's sake, frog. But for complication’s sake, it’s any one of: frog, axolotl, cuttlefish, common crow, hummingbird, bat, heron, damselfly, mantis, land crab, kestrel, playupus, armadillo... and so on in more or less that order into infinity. And that’s just extant animals. I really like velociraptor (like, the real turkey sized one) and dimorphodon. 

Silva: Give 3 unpopular opinions of yours.I pretty much universally prefer dubbed anime and video games. It might be partly because of enjoying eating while watching things, but since I value immersion the eye movement of reading and watching is annoying. I still watch many series in Japanese, and can recognize a bad English dub, but the strict and aggressive passion of people who swear by never touching English dubs and outright hating them kinda baffles me. On that note, since this is a Shaman King question thing:The English Shaman King dub is actually pretty amazing. Like, the casting and what the writers were able to get away with considering they were making a 4Kids series at the time is amazing. I prefer almost all the English voices with maybe the exception of Faust and Ren. Faust mostly due to inconsistency, and for Ren I think they’re about even and if it wasn’t for the accent (which had the same negative effect for Ryu) I think I wouldn’t question I liked the English voice better. Yoh/Hao and Chocolove, are in my opinion vastly more appropriate casting compared to the Japanese casting.  The only characters I would recast would be a few minor characters and *maybe* Anna; or I would at least direct Anna a bit differently. I don’t consider most of the Marvel Universe (mostly comics) characters to be superheroes. Basically Spider-man, Kamala Khan, and like a half a dozen assorted others like Daredevil and Captain America at various times. I have criteria for what makes a superhero. It involves saving innocent/unrelated people directly and sort of knowing/self identifying as a superhero. The X-men just deal with their own problems. Thor is a god. Hulk is thrown at stuff half the time. Stop dealing with personal stuff and stop a death ray or save a bus full of kids. Honestly Deadpool is an actual superhero more often than the actual X-men. I only found out this is unpopular recently due to online dating; but I hate downtown cores of big cities and I love the suburbs. Living 30 minutes outside of downtown is amazing and I would settle down 1-2 hours away and wouldn’t mind. I get annoyed by the city really fast. Toronto is greener than most, but I actually get angry when I can’t see the sky and it’s just oppressively tall buildings. Malls are amazing, you don’t really get classic malls in big cities. The best Escape Rooms are in suburbs... you can drive to nature really easily, there are IKEAs sometimes and theme parks and amazing things with SKY and TREES. Some bigger cities have designs I can get behind: Singapore, Fukuoka, Miami... but people sometimes tell me I should go to New York City and I really have no desire to. I would visit the Nintendo store and if it’s still there the Muppet Building store and then desperately want to leave in all likelihood. I could live in a not-downtown core part of a big city (and I guess I technically do now...), but only because it has access to suburbs. They may be “bad” (thanks, Adam Ruins Everything...) but I love suburbs and small cities/towns. 

Peyote: How many languages do you speak?I speak only English fluently. I can understand about 60% of Spanish if someone pretends I’m under 8 years old and speaks at an unnaturally slow rate (for Spanish speakers) and I can read it slightly better than that. Knowing latin names for some animals actually helped my vocabulary acquisition a fair bit. When I first started learning Spanish I would replace use French words sometimes but now my grade 4-9 French knowledge is pretty much completely erased. I have extremely basic Japanese mostly obtained by living there for a year. Seven years of subbed anime maybe gave me a half dozen words of Japanese, a month of Rosetta Stone maybe a dozen more, but really wanting to order more than one piece of fried chicken at the convenience store and wanting to see a concert gave me rudimentary conversation and general language skills I was able to use. I probably underestimate my Spanish a fair bit to be honest... I feel like if I moved back to Costa Rica or even Miami or something and really wanted to date or make non-expat friends I would probably be conversational in like five months.