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poguestvff · 3 years

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LIKE A BIG SISTER SHOULD — WHEEZIE CAMERON

in which wheezie cameron finds that blood doesn’t make you family, love and affection does.

taglist | masterlist | 2.5k words | @pogueslandia ,

warning(s): food, she/her pronouns, ward slander, a little sarah slander but that’d include reading between the lines. why’d this make me want to make a series of reader and Wheezie being best friends.

There's always been a heavy feeling of loneliness that rested upon the youngest cameron's shoulders, weighing her down as it seemed to pile over the years. Her siblings were always older, an age gap between them that even if it was shortened by a few years, their worlds would still be two different things. All three of them were in three different stages of life yet somehow it felt like Wheezie wasn't even there at times.

Throughout the entirety of her schooling career so far, everything had somehow been about Rafe and Sarah. Sarah was the perfect one; the paragon who could do no wrong. Even if Sarah tried to disobey, it'd be turned around to be made out as a minute mistake. She'd probably be able to get away with it a second time if she did it a different way. Maybe the same way.

Rafe was quite the opposite. The bastard child who needed a plentiful amount of attention in hopes he can be more like the paragon. With all this attention, his head only grew. It never gave him the space for growth. It minimized the space to stay exactly where he was for years on end.

This left Wheezie to be the ostracized sibling. She wasn't a social butterfly or a poster child like Sarah and she definitely wasn't a loner or the 'damaged goods' child like Rafe. She was just... average. With average grades and an average personality. Just average old Wheezie. She told herself this consistently, watching her father balance his attention between making sure Rafe stayed between the lines he'd drawn for him in a radius such as a dart board and allowing Sarah step out of them, even erasing some of the lines so she could walk on by them without a second thought.

But Wheezie was stuck in that tiny little circle in the middle, the bullseye as if scared to move out of those lines. The one place that was the hardest to pinpoint specifically by her father. But there was one thing Ward Cameron always said correct about his younger daughter. That he wouldn't be able to pin point his little dart of control into the middle of the board because she was misunderstood and misunderstood she was.

Though one person had been able to pick up on every single one of Wheezie's emotions.

Y/n Y/L/N was a pogue who had done tutoring on the side for a little extra money and when John B had recommended Y/n for help with Wheezie's homework, Ward was quick to say okay. He hardly even asked a thing about Y/n, just telling her to help Wheezie pass eighth grade and that was all. It was made very apparent to Y/n that was Wheezie was not as much of a priority to Ward as other things were.

Their first tutoring session, Wheezie was awfully dismissive. She didn't care for any of Y/n's efforts as they sat within the comfort of Wheezie's bedroom. She just wanted the entire hour to be over with the second she'd entered her room but Y/n was insistent, knowing that by the end of the school year she would have something instilled in Wheezie's brain. She just didn't know what that something was yet.

The second time they met, Y/n was more passive aggressive in hopes of breaking down the brick walls Wheezie had stored between her and everyone else in hopes of not disappointing them like the way she thought she'd disappointed her father. Y/n sat her down in her desk chair, swiveling her chair to her as she rested her hands on the younger girls shoulders. "You are going to have a really awkward couple of weeks if you and i don't become friends so no work today. We're playing 20 questions."

That night, Y/n learned a lot about Wheezie Cameron that she never thought she'd learned. Wheezie hated the color purple, she just painted her room that color because Sarah liked that color. Wheezie loved to paint and to draw, it was her favorite activity, she just rarely showed it bevause she hadn't believed in herself. Though, when she showed Y/n the canvas' that were shoved at the back of the closet, Y/n marveled at them. But Y/n's favorite fact, and the same one that almost made her hug Wheezie on the spot, was that she was never taught to swim and Y/n made her a promise that she would teach her.

As the weeks went by, Wheezie waiting anticipatingly for Y/n's beaten down, green ford bronco to pull up on the driveway and she'd leave the house with a giant smile on her face. It’d be early in the morning, a little less than an hour until school started, just like how Wheezie liked. She'd jump in the driver seat, embracing the smell of vanilla from the scented item hanging from the rear view mirror. She’d toss her bag to the back as Y/n would ruffle her hair, just like she had every morning. "And beloved was set in... late 1856!" Wheezie answered excitedly as Y/n drove down the final street towards her school after the two had gotten breakfast together.

"Perfect! You're gonna do so good on your test, Wheeze, I promise." Y/n told her ecstatically as she pulled into a parking space. Just before Wheezie could get out, Y/n held her upper arm just to gain her attention before she got out. "Tell Rose she doesn't have to get you after school. I'll leave school early and you and I are having a girls day. No studying, just me, you and a shit ton of sweets."

Wheezie smiled, she could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to hurt from how wide she had. She tilted her head to the side out of curiosity, eyeing the look of excitement on Y/n's face. "But why?"

Y/n shrugged, adjusting in her seat and fixing her rear view mirror. "Cause, you deserve it. I'm so proud of you, Little W." She told her, looking back towards the girl and seeing her smile slightly drop. "You okay?"

Wheezie couldn't remember a time where she was genuinely told that. Yeah, sure, Ward said it a few times but it'd be in a lousy tone before he'd wave her off, saying he was busy with whatever office work he had to attend to. Sarah may have said it a few times but it was rushed before she'd run after her friends with a quick goodbye to Wheeze, leaving her alone in the sand. It was never sincere. Not in the way Y/n had said it.

She rubbed her hands against her jean clad thighs with a sharp breath before nodding. “Yeah. I've just never really been told that before. Like—Like genuinely." She said, lowly, in hopes Y/n would understand and wouldn't push it.

Y/n had known Wheezie long enough to know her tells and avoiding eye contact was one of the biggest ones. So she didn't indulge further in the conversation, brushing it under the rug but knowing she'd have to go diving back in for that little tidbit later on. Instead she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug from over the console. "I'll tell you i'm proud of you everyday if i have to." Y/n muttered before kissing the top of her head. "Now go, if you're late to first period, your dad will kill me." And Wheezie was able to leave the car with a smile on her face, already looking forward to the day planned later on.

Y/n was overall consistent, it was one thing Wheezie enjoyed knowing that when she made promises she tried to keep them as best as she could. Sometimes things slipped her mind but Wheezie could recognize that Y/n didn't forget a thing when it came to Wheezie. Like she made sure to engrave bits and pieces of her into her mind like a data chart. But it showed she cared and that was enough for Wheezie.

Y/n cared enough that when she entered her car after school, the smell of her favorite cinnabon's filled the car that made her look in the backseat, seeing a picnic basket. There wasn't a chance, right? You could only get them on the mainland. She turned her body swiftly towards the elder girl who sat with a smirk on her face. "You didn't?"

"I did. Second I left fourth period, got on a ferry just for you to have those overly sweet treats." Y/n said, tapping her nose with a 'boop'! "And I almost got stuck on the mainland because of it so you better enjoy the hell out of them."

"I will, I promise." Wheezie said dramatically as Y/n smiled, pulling out of the parking space to head down to the beach. Wheezie had said she didn't have a bathing suit, not prepared for the outing, though Y/n already said she had ransacked her room for clothes for after. Y/n was the only person allowed in Wheezie Cameron's room without Wheezie being there and the elder girl took pride in it.

As Y/n set up their small area for the few hours, she noticed Wheezie standing just where the water and the sand met. She kicked around the water with clear disinterest causing Y/n to huff, hands on her hips, before tossing off her hoodie to get in. The splash she'd made by pushing herself into the water made Wheezie jump, a laugh falling from the two's lips. "Come on." Y/n said, standing and holding her hands out to Wheezie.

"Y/n/n, I can't swim."

"Y/n/n I can't swim, well, obvi, i know that, little W. But, you have your amazing best friend to keep you afloat. I won't let you go, i swear." Y/n said, holding up her pinky.

"Swear?"

"On my life." She reassured with a trusting smile before Wheezie walked further in. When the water had gotten to her above her waist, it'd freaked her out a bit though Y/n talked her through it, coaxing her further in slowly. Wheezie was kept above the water as Y/n held her hands as the buoyancy was used to their advantage. "See, not as bad as you thought?"

Wheezie shook her head though still nervous. "Not as bad, not my thing though."

"Why don't we try actually swimming? I won't force you if you don't want to and we can get back to shore right now but maybe just try?" She asked as Wheezie had to think about it for a moment. She almost felt guilty, remembing just a few months ago when Sarah had asked her if she could teach her but she refused. Though maybe, just maybe, it was because of Y/n being a bit more trust worthy that Wheezie said yes this time.

It took a while, Wheezie was frightened by letting go even as Y/n would say she was okay. Wheezie would tighten her grip on her shoulders before trying again and again until she eventually got it. She finally was able to keep herself above the water without flailing, recognizing that she was okay. Y/n cheered as she watched, not caring for the stares of others around them. "See, dude? You just have to start applying yourself! You did it!"

"I did it!" Wheezie said as Y/n hugged her, the two laughing before Wheezie screamed making Y/n's laughter die fast. "Something touched me!"

"Wheeze, it was seaweed." Y/n said softly before turning and letting her place her hands on her shoulders. "Yeah let's get you out of here before a jellyfish gets you."

Wheezie widened her eyes. "Jellyfish?"

As the sun had began to set and people had packed up their things and left, Y/n and Wheezie stayed. Wheezie was on her fourth doughy treat, even though Y/n told her to slow down two treats ago. Towels were wrapped around each of their shoulders as they watched the pretty colors fade in to one another, a mixture of pink, blue and orange array of colors combining to make a cotton candy sky. Wheezie watched as Y/n got up, accepting a phone call from Ward, the only phone call she hadn't silenced since they'd left the car.

In the time she'd left, Wheezie took advantage of it to recognize how appreciative she was of all that Y/n was doing for her. She came in as a tutor and, to Wheezie, was to stay as a friend. As family. Wheezie was more then ecstatic to have someone who would be there to rant and rave about the other Cameron's, someone she could trust with her secrets and the contents of her always running brain. Someone who was just there.

"Hey, your father would like us back in thirty so we should leave in ten." She said coming back and sitting beside Wheezie as she caught sight of her face, the lack of the smile that was there previously concerning her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, really. Just... I really enjoyed today, Y/n. It really lets me know you're not just here for like... like the money or something."

Y/n let out a scoff. "Are you kidding? I enjoy nothing more than watching you freak out over the existence of jellyfish." She joked as Wheezie pushed her to the side with a laugh. Y/n recovered, letting out a content sigh as she tossed an arm over Wheezie's shoulders. "You're stuck with me now, Wheezes. Can't wait to record you falling at your next soccer game."

Wheezie couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips, leaning into Y/n's embrace as her head rested against her clavicle. "And I'll be looking for you in the stands, Y/n/n."

Y/n and Wheezie had both found out something about the other that night. Wheezie found that she didn't want to be like Sarah and she was glad she wasn't like Rafe. She was content with her own little circle on the dart board but maybe she could take a bit after her newest role model. And Y/n found that she was able to instill several things into the youngers mind including To Kill a Mockingbird, Inca Civilizations, and that she now had a true and present big sister to look up to.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #wheezie cameron #wheezie cameron x reader #rafe cameron #sarah cameron

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the-twewy-sequel · 3 years

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TWEWY: The Animation - Episode 3 Review

Like a bolt from the blue, it’s time for the TWEWY Anime Review!

This is super late, but I've legit been busy, sorry on the off chance anyone was looking forward to this. I will try harder for future reviews T_T.

For me, this episode sort of solidified that the show is indeed its own thing and is not one of those "very-close-to-the-original" type adaptations. We've had evidence of this throughout, but this is basically where I go, this could end up having different events entirely and not just a different detailing of it or chronology, which I think is important for understanding the show and trying to enjoy it: expecting it to be something it won't will just end up in disappointment, after all.

At the same time, while it's fine to be original, I do think it should still be good, and I won't hesitate to point out when I think the dialog or execution feel lacking in general.

With that out of the way, the end-game to Shiki's week continues, and we find out that these two characters we've seen milling about have apparently died in an accident. It's interesting seeing them get what feels like a bit more "blatant" nods compared to the original game, but I sort of understand it in that the original game didn't have a lot of different non-controllable player characters appear, so giving opportunities for ones besides the main 4 to appear will likely prove important to fleshing things out.

A lot of interesting points in this episode, but one of them was the discussion on entry fees (which of course happened quite differently before), and what I think is a much more direct explanation of what Rhyme's entry fee was. Now, it's been a little since I played TWEWY, but I feel like her entry fee was actually more implied than outright stated, especially in this early game, but maybe they didn't feel it was an important detail to hold back on—perhaps it's dependent on how the 3rd week goes.

On a less important note, Kariya's characterization as he sort of teased Beat felt a little bit different here, and I wasn't sure I liked the way Beat acted after losing Rhyme. I think the execution just felt a bit less tight somehow: Hanekoma wasn't very convincing when he basically said he'll "figure something out" for Rhyme, IIRC "7 minutes before you disappear" just became "some vague amount of minutes", Beat's reaction felt slightly off-character in the nuance, etc... oh, and Hanekoma can apparently just call Neku when he wants now. Uhh, okay then, hahaha.

But re: the above pic, Uzuki TOTALLY kicked Beat in this scene, then claims she can't attack players. WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT KICK? Bruhhhh.

This scene had a little bit less impact for me too, for whatever reason. It felt... a tiny bit more forced, somehow? I'd like to hear what people in the comments felt, but this wasn't the only scene that started to feel this way. In regards to the dialog... who is "all of us", exactly? Beat's, uh... not exactly around, Rhyme is erased, and so were all the other players. Am I missing something here?

While I'm not sure what I might be missing, I can tell you what this adaptation is: an actual build-up for the game master of week 1. As I suspected, introducing him in front of Neku and Shiki basically only at the end meant that the dialog and conflict here felt... very half-baked and not compelling. He acts like he knows Shiki and it seems like he tries to get to her but it doesn't work at all because Shiki already went through her growth, and it didn't really have anything to do with Higashizawa. So, is just kind of an awkward cooking-obsessed "boss enemy" that pops up to us and, in my opinion, not someone the viewer feels especially motivated to beat, whereas at least in the game it felt a bit more like Shiki genuinely had something to prove and had sort of "overcome" his earlier provocations.

While it's the nature of this review to point out changes and things I felt could have been done better, it's not like it was a terrible episode overall. Some important things happened, there were some nice fight moments with various new psyches shown, and some good visuals and music in general. However, even to the last scene with Shiki disappearing, a lot of the bits of dialog felt a little bit awkward, and it felt like some things were missing.

For instance, Beat was missing from the final scene with the Conductor—we don't see him become a reaper here anymore, Shiki disappears crying and sad instead of smiling and saying she'll wait for him in front of Hachiko/asking if they'll still be friends (which I thought was a way better way of doing it, having a final touching moment and letting the despair sink in only after Shiki is gone), and... did Neku even get his memories back? I don't remember Kitaniji saying he gave them back, and that feels like a fairly important detail to be overlooking, so... I'm honestly a little confused.

Overall it was a decent episode, but the show is leaving me fairly disoriented with the way it is scrambling everything together, and I actually have been trying to go into this not having seen the original story recently (though I do reference it during these reviews), so I'm definitely not trying to overcompare/analyze it or anything.

At the same time though, it's a given that when you rewrite scenes a lot, you're going to have to write them about as well as the original wrote its characters, or it won't hold up as well. When the standards are high, that becomes difficult, and I worry that the show is losing a little bit of its "edge" if you will, especially as the "shininess" of the cool art style and such wears off.

#twewy #the world ends with you #twewy animation #twewy anime

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bisexualsforprompto · 4 years

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I think this is sort of a prompt, but hear me out, Damian is always the "smoth flirt" in every daminette fic i've read so far, but what if for the first time in his life he starts being "the awkward teenage boy with a massive crush" with all the awkward laughing and blushing and mumbling: why did i do/say that!?!? That kind of stuff.

We’ll Have Tomorrow

Shoves this down your throat, “HAVE SOME MORE FLUFF!”

Anyone know the two obvious references lol? One is the title.

Family ‘fun’ night was not something Damian wanted to be doing. Everytime West-Reeves had one he made sure that the flyer didn’t make it home, so his family didn’t know about it.

But this year was different, this year West-Reeves mailed flyers for Family fun night.

Though Damian couldn’t imagine how it could be fun and he begged Bruce not to make him go, his father insisted. Damian sighed, his family and fun were oxymorons. His only hope was that he wouldn’t have to interact with anyone, and that his family would decide to leave early, but all that changed when he saw Marinette Dupain-Chang sitting alone on the bleachers. Before he could stop himself, he rushed up to her.

“You are an adequate companion.” Damian blushed before turning his head away. His face was beet red, so much so that it looked like he was going to pass out.

“T-thanks?” Marinette whispered as Damian ran off without another word.

‘Stupid!’ He berated himself as he walked over to his family. ‘You are an adequate companion?! Very forward Wayne! You may as well be the playboy they call your father!’

Damian huffed as he walked behind Dick. He folded his arms and inadvertently started pouting.

“Sooooo,” Jason teased, “Who was that?”

“None of your business, Todd!” Damian barked causing Jason to hold his hands up in mock surrender. Damian straightened out his school uniform, proud that he got Jason to stop his nonsense until-

“Demon Spawn was talking to a girlllll.” Jason singsonged. Dick held in a laugh while Tim laughed shamelessly. Luckily for them, Bruce was talking with one of the teachers and wasn’t there to get them to stop.

Damian’s face heated up, it was enough his family was mocking him, but Damian did really like Marinette and he would not let his family screw it up...well not before he screwed it up himself. He sighed, rubbing his temples. Between seeing Marinette and dealing with his insufferable family, it was going to be a long night.

Damian made his way to the concession stand with his brothers, he was trying to stay away from the crowd, but unfortunately for him where his brothers dragged him was one of the more popular places.

Damian was quick to recognize the two people running the concessions as Sabine Chang and Tom Dupain, Marinette’s parents. They had only met on a couple occasions when they picked Marinette up from an after school club, which wasn’t often. They seemed very nice, but Damian prayed they wouldn’t talk to him because then his idiot brothers would find out more about Marinette, which would certainly lead to disaster. Damian tried to hide behind his brothers before they saw him.

“Hey there Damian!” Tom said in accented English. Too late.

Damian cleared his throat, “Good evening Mr. Dupain, and Mrs. Chang.”

“Please dear,” Sabine smiled, “Call me Sabine. I’m guessing these are your brothers? Marinette told us you had quite a few!”

“Yes these would be-“

“We’re his brothers!” Dick beamed, “It’s very nice to meet you! Would Marinette happen to be the girl over there?” He pointed to a young girl in a pink hoodie sitting on the bleachers, who was focusing intently on her sketchbook.

“Yep, that’s Marinette! You really can’t pull her from her work.” Tom let out a chuckle, “I’m Tom Dupain by the way, this is my wife Sabine.”

“A pleasure! I’m Dick Grayson, the one on my left is Jason Todd, and the one to my right is Tim Drake.”

Jason got an evil glint in his eyes when he realized the girl they pointed to was the same one Damian had spoken to before turning red as a tomato.

Sabine gave Tom a worried look, “I wish she wouldn’t work so much. This was supposed to be a day where she spent time with her friends without stressing.”

Jason smirked, “If you want I’m sure the Demon could keep her company.”

“The Demon?”

Dick flicked Jason on the ear, “He means Damian. You really shouldn’t call him that.”

Jason shrugged. Damian’s facial expressions were screaming at his brothers to not make him go, but Sabine and Tom didn’t notice.

“Would you sit with her dear? Even if you can’t tear her away from her work, I’d at least like her to talk with a friend.”

Before Damian could answer, Dick spun him around and pushed him off into Marinette’s direction. Damian scowled before seeing the hopeful expressions of Marinette’s parents' faces. He sighed to himself and walked over to her.

“H-hi.” Damian stuttered before clearing his throat. ‘Great start Wayne...’ He chastised himself.

Marinette looked up briefly, a blush forming on her cheeks. “H-hey there Damian. You are how? I mean, how are you?”

Damian fought a blush, the way she stumbled on her words was maybe a little cute. He gathered some confidence, he was a Wayne. He was Robin. Talking to a girl, pshh! Child’s play. He could do this.

“I’m well. How are you, Marinette?”

“I-I’m grool!” She facepalmed and her face got red, “I was going to say great, but then I was gonna say cool and I got-“

“Grool.” Damian smirked. Marinette gave him a shy smile, he felt his cheeks get hot. He could not do this.

As Marinette took a deep breath and her face turned less red she opened up her sketchbook, “I’ve been working on a commission for a couple of the seniors going to prom, w-would you like to see?”

Damian nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. She grinned and opened to a bookmarked page.

On it was a spectacular navy blue gown that Damian ended up picturing Marinette in.

“Beautiful.” He said, still lost in his fantasy with Marinette in the dress.

“T-thanks Damian. That a lot means...Means a lot.” Marinette giggled.

Marinette went back to sketching silently and Damian pulled out his own sketchbook. He set out to work, sneaking glances at Marinette from time to time as she focused on her drawing, sticking her tongue out slightly whenever she erased something.

Before he knew it his father, brothers and Marinette’s parents were at the bleachers.

“Marinette it’s time to go!”

Marinette quickly snapped out of her fashion trance and hurried down the bleachers. She waved a goodbye to Damian as he followed her down to go back with his family.

Bruce exchanged greetings with Marinette’s parents. Damian and Marinette looked at each other once before blushing and looking away. Dick gave Jason a knowing smile. Jason, with a gleam in his eye, started poking Damian, causing him to drop his sketchbook. Before he realized, it was in Dick’s hand and a page had already been ripped out.

Damian continued to argue with Jason as Dick silently made his way over to Marinette.

“Here,” he said, gently pressing the paper in her hand, “I think he’d want you to have it.”

As Dick walked back Marinette opened the folded paper and gaped in awe. Pink settled onto her cheeks as she stared at the majestic sketch of her done by Damian. She folded it and stuck it into her pocket.

Her brain was going into overdrive, but she knew she needed to see Damian before he left the school grounds and talk to him, maybe he felt the same as her.

But when she looked up all the Waynes had disappeared and her Maman and Papa started leading her to the car.

‘Next time, Damian.’ She thought as she studied the portrait of her, ‘Next time.’

Damian closed the car door wordlessly, imagining Marinette in the brilliant blue dress again, a blush forming on his cheeks. Maybe he could tell her how he felt.

‘Next time, Marinette.’ He thought, looking out the window, ‘Next time.’

#maribat #daminette fluff #daminette #damianette

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whymylife-101 · 4 years

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Pen...Pals? ~Kenma Kozume X Reader~

Description-

Okay, so @OIKAWAS (on wattpad) originally made this idea/plot, but I really liked it and (for the time being) they discontinued it, which was really sad to me because I feel like they got Kenma's personality down really well! (Though I do understand why they did it and completely respect their decision) So I just kinda thought I'd put my own little spin on it! Okay, thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy!(This book and all my other ones are gender neutral, I don't like excluding people so if I do make a mistake anywhere then please let me know!) (Also, any art in this book is not mine! I'm not sure who most of the artists are because I got the pictures off of google, but if you do know please tell me so I can give the proper credit!) -Started; March 30th, 2020 (3/30/2020) -Finished; March 30th, 2020 (3/30/2020)

Chapter One;

~Reader's POV~

I walked into class and sat in my desk next to one of my best friends. "Hey.." I yawned out, rubbing my eyes. "Did you stay up late playing video games?" (F/n) questioned with an eyebrow raised. "I didn't say up that late." I told them truthfully. "You say that every time." They told me, rolling their eyes with a small smile on their face.

The teacher walked in as our conversation came to a close. "Alright." The teacher started. "Because in this unit we are going more in depth about Japanese history and we already studied the culture, I thought it would be a fun idea to get a first hand experience with some of the kids that live in Japan. I was lucky enough to get Nekoma High School to agree."

At this, some people started to murmur about how cool and excited this would be. The teacher cleared her throat to get the classes attention and to signify that she wasn't done talking. "Make sure that your letters are appropriate and don't share any personal Information. I will mail them by the end of this week and yes, they are for a grade."

The kid in front of me raised their hand. "Mrs, do we write in English?" The teacher nodded her head as she picked up a tiny box. "Any other questions?" When no one raised their hands or called out, she then proceeded to explain what the box was for.

"Now then, I'm going to walk around and your going to pick out a name from the box. Then I want you to get started on you letters." She walked around to everyone's desk, and everyone pulled out a random strip of paper.

When she got to my desk I put my hand in a grabbed the first piece I touched the pulled it out quickly. "Hey, who did you get?" (F/n) asked. "I got Kenma Kozume, who did you get?" I asked. "Fukunaga Shohei." They said, pronouncing it very slowly while trying to sound it out. I giggled slightly. "Maybe you should ask him how to pronounce his name." "Oh shush!" My friends said, lightly hitting my shoulder.

"Okay class, start working on your letters." My teacher said as she put the box beside her desk and started to grade papers. I took some lined paper out of my bag and began to write my letter.

When the bell rang I had a little more than a full page done. I had written a little bit about me, what I look like, and some cool places I've been to that were near me. I had also asked him some questions about himself and Japan.

I gave the letter to my teacher as I headed out the door with (F/n) right behind me. "Hey (Y/N), what do you think your pen pal is going to look like?" They asked as we pulled up her our lockers. "I don't know, you have any idea about yours?" I asked back. "Well they say people with difficult names are hotter." My friend said, making me laugh. "That's such a weird stereotype, where did you even hear it from?"

"W-well, there's this YouTube channel-!" My friend started, but I interrupted them. "And your really going to trust some nut-job on the Internet?" (F/n) crossed their arms. "At least I try to search up informational things in my free time." "Touché." I once again laughed as we made our way to the lunch room.

"So you think your pen pal is going to be hot?" I questioned, making them blush. "S-shush!" Once again I laughed as (F/n)'s face exploded in a blush. "I can't say I know for sure what my pen pal is going to look like, but I hope they like video games."

"What, you want them to send you over some Japanese exclusive games?" (F/n) said sarcastically. "That wasn't the intent purpose, but I suppose I wouldn't go against the idea. I just thought we could bond over video games." I hummed out.

"Hey!" I heard (f/2) (that means friend number 2) say as they sat down at our little table. Me and (f/n) gave our own versions of a hello. "Hey, you did the pen pal thing last year right?" (F/n) questioned, making (f/2) nod their head.

"Yea, are you guys doing that now?" I nodded my head. "Oh that's so cool! Ya know, I still talk to my pen pal. His name is Kuroo Tetaurō." (F/2) said. "Oh wow, you guys still do the pen pal thing?" (F/n) asked. "Oh no, we exchanged numbers towards the end." (F/2) laughed out.

We continued to talk about the pen pal stuff and (F/2) told us what we should expect going into it. After lunch was over me and (F/n) dumped our trays and said goodbye to (F/2).

"Are you excited to get a letter back?" (F/n) asked me. "A little, you?" I questioned back. "A little." They said, copying me, making me laugh. "Okay, lets get to class."' I told them, rolling my eyes.

Chapter Two;

~Kenma's POV~

I sat in class, sneakily pulling my phone out to play Pocket Camp, class hadn't started yet and I really had nothing better to do. A few minutes past and Fukunaga had sat behind me. "Hey Kozume." I gave a hum in response.

"What are you playing?" He asked, trying to take a look at my phone. "Pocket Camp." My tone was dull as I continued to try and complete my missions and stuff that I needed to do for Bob and Rosie.

The bell rang throughout the halls which could be heard from inside the classroom, signaling me to put my phone away so I wouldn't get in detention and have to run extra laps at volleyball practice. Once I slid my phone in my pocket the teacher walked in with a box and a lesson plan in hand. "Good morning class."

"Good morning." Me and everyone had said back. "Today we are going to be doing something different. Because we have been learning about a ton of other countries, a school from (insert where you live) reached out and asked if we could do a "pen pal" type of activity. That way you guys can learn about the place first hand from someone that lives there, and you can tell your pen pal how it is here."

"Now your pen pals have already been assigned and they have already written a letter to you. I have this box with me, and I'm going to go around and hand out everyone's letters." After he finished he grabbed the box and started to walk around. Eventually the teacher got around to my desk, he quickly shuffled through the letters and found the one addressed to me.

"Hey Kozume, who'd your say it's from?" Fukunaga asked as he looked down at his paper. "Umm... (L/N), (Y/N).... you?" "(F/LN) (friends last name), (F/n)." He answered. I nodded my head, fixing to pull out my phone again when the teacher had asked us if we had any questions. The girl in front of me raised her hand. "Are we writing in Japanese?" The teacher shook his head. "No english." Another student then raised a hand.

"Are we aloud to send pictures?" "As long as they are appropriate, any other questions?" When no one raised their hands the teacher told us to start reading the letters and once we finished to start working on our letters that we'd give back, and that they'd be due by the end of this school week. On that note we started to read/write our letters.

About half of the class consisted of me writing something down and erasing it not long after, so all I had was:

'Dear (L/ N), (F/ N)

My name in Kozume Kenma.'

Sighing out of frustration i looked behind me, catching Fukunaga attention. "Umm... how do we start the letters?" I asked, scratching the back of my neck in embarrassment. "Well," Fukunaga started. "I introduced myself, told them how to pronounce my name, and told them to call me by my surname. I started to list some things about me and I told them

I would have pictures of different places that most tourist would want to see when visiting. Oh! And I also described what I looked like. But I also answered some of their questions two."

I nodded my head and thanked him, then turned back around to finish my paper. When the bell rang I had a little under a half of my page full. I sighed, and put it in my book bag so I could finish it at home and get the pictures I needed.

I quickly pulled out my phone and slung my bag over my shoulder as I made my way out of the classroom and into the hallway with Fukunaga by my side. We both walked until we got to class 2-3 where Yamamoto was and waited for him so we could walk to our club together.

Once Yamamoto came out, him and Fukunaga started chatting while I was silent, playing on my phone. I was just fixing to beat a new level on my game when suddenly I could feel a hand wrap around my shoulders, which caused me to glance to me side to see Kuroo. "Hey shorty." "I'm not that much shorter." I told him plainly as I continued to play my game, as we walked into the changing rooms.

I didn't take a second to glance around me, and instead sat down on one of the benches as I was trying to hurry and finish the level. Which I successfully did. A sigh of relive slipped through my lips as they tugged up into a small smile. "Hey Kenma? Hurry up and change or coach is going to make you run extra laps." At Kuroo's works I slid my phone in my bag and started to change into my volleyball uniform.

I walked out of the changing rooms after practice with my phone in hand and Kuroo by my side. He was talking about his day and some of his classmates as a made a few comments here and there. Suddenly, Kuroo stopped talking as his phone buzzed.

He quickly pulled his phone out and started to type to the person, a smile coming across his face. "Awfully quiet on your end." I noted, not taking my eyes off my game. "Well, (f/2) is texting me." He chuckled. "Come to think of it, it was around this quarter that I first got a letter from (f/2). Are you guys doing that pen pal thing?"

I nodded my head and gave a hum. "Who did you get?" "Uhhh... I think the last name was (L/N)?" Kuroo nodded his head and started typing something on his phone, a few minutes later he gave off this devilish smirk. "Is something funny?"

Kuroo gave off a chuckle. "It's nothing." He said as we continued walking until we came to my house. We both waved goodbye and I quickly unlocked my door, trying not to lose my level. I then walked inside and closed the door with my foot, haphazardly kicking my shoes off in the process. I then walked up the stairs and into my room, shutting the door the same way I did downstairs, then plopped on my bed.

I quickly finished the level and set my phone down. "I should probably try and add something to the letter... and get some pictures..." I told myself quietly as I got up and got back to work.

Chapter Three;

~Reader's POV~

It's been about a week since we turned in our letters and our teacher had the letters from our pen pals ready for us to read. On the envelopes they made us write who they were to and who they were from.

When the teacher called my name, I came up and grabbed the envelope and sat down at my desk. Once we got our envelopes we where told to wait until everyone had gotten theirs so that way we could all open them together and there wasn't a bunch of noise as she was trying to pass out the envelopes.

I couldn't help but feel butterflies in my tummy at the thought of what my pen pal could be like. Would they have similar interests that i have? Would they be the polar opposite of me? What did they look like? These thoughts and millions of other swarmed my head.

That was until the last person got theirs, she told us we could read them and then write a response back, and that they were again, due at the end of the week.

I opened the envelope neatly, unlike some people that chose to just tear them open. Once I opened it I started to read it to myself.

'Dear (L/N), (Y/N)

My name in Kozume Kenma (Ko-zoom-e Ken-ma), but please call me Kozume. I live in Tokyo Japan and go to school at Nekoma High, but you probably already knew that. I'm on my schools volleyball team and in my free time I like to play video games (some of my favorites are Pocket Camp and Mario Cart). I find it hard to describe things so I decided I would just put a couple of photos of me and my volleyball team in the envelope two (I'm the one with the black hair fading into blond). In Tokyo there is mainly a lot of food stands/shops, and a ton of stuff for tourists, I'm sorry, but I really don't know how to describe it. If there's anything in particular you wanted to see I could always take a picture. I'm not really a social person so I apologize for the lack of writing.

-Sincerely, Kozume Kenma.'

I looked towards my friend to see they got a whole two pages, front and back, while I barley got even a full page of writing. "Wow..." I said quietly to myself. I decided that I would go ahead and look inside the envelope for the pictures that Kozume said he sent.

I saw some miniature pictures in the bottom and took them out, the first one was a picture of the whole Nekoma volleyball team, It wasn't hard to find Kozume because he was the only male with the hair colors he described. He was also the only one holding his phone and looking down at it.

I then looked at the next photo to see it was one of him and a guy with bedhead. Kozume wasn't looking down this time, instead, he stared straight at the camera with a small smile as the bed-headed male gave him bunny ears.

The next, and last photo was of just Kozume, he was standing on the side walk, and was glancing up at the person taking the photo with a phone in his hands. Unlike the other ones, where he was in his team uniform, he was actually wearing casual clothes.

When I put the photos down I could feel some heat making its way to my cheeks. I wouldn't deny that Kozume was fairly attractive, but the thought of the semester being over and him being nothing more than a faint memory kept me from thinking about it to much, instead, I focused on writing another letter.

I couldn't think of much to write about, I just asked him who the bed haired male was, told him some video games that I enjoyed, I also told him what club I was in and told him I also would send photos of me and some places around the city.

The bell rang and I decided I would put my note in my bag so I can get the pictures I needed (Im sorry if this feels repetitive). I again made my way to lunch with (F/n) and (F/2).

"So (Y/N), do you have anything in common with your pen pal?" I paused the game I was playing and looked up at (F/2), slightly blushing at the thought of Kozume, though it went unnoticed to the two in front of me. "Yea, we both like video games, and I found out he had a Pocket Camp account."

"Oooh~ Are you going to give him your friend code~!" (F/n) tried to tease me, but I just unpaused the game and ignored them. "Aww come on! Don't do us dirty like that!" I continued to play my game and try to block out my friends. I could hear one of them puff out a short breath of air, meaning they were going to tease me more, but thankfully the bell came to my rescue, and I quickly got up to leave and go to my class.

At the end of the day I was walking home with (F/n) and (F/2). They were talking while I was playing a video game on my phone. "Hey (Y/N), how did you respond to your pen pal?"

I quickly looked up from my game to glance at my friends (who had smug faces) and back down at it again. "I wrote a little about video games and the city here... I also told him I'd include pictures like he did."

"Ohh! So he sent you pictures! Is he good looking!?" (F/n) shouted, making a light blush spread across my cheeks. "Uhhh... idk. You can be the judge of that.." I took out the letter in my bag and handed it to my friends. "He's the one with the blond hair and dark roots."

I heard (F/n) giggle at the male in the picture. Suddenly, (F/2) gasped. "Hey! That was my pen pal last year!" I quickly glanced up from my game again to see they were looking at the second photo and (F/2) had pointed at the male with bed hair. "Oh yea... I was wondering what his name was." I told them as my eyes went back to my phone.

"It's Kuroo!" (F/2) was looking at the photo and stared at the "Kuroo" guy with a dark blush. "Ah, the one you like." I paused my game to see their reaction, and it was priceless. Their face lit up an even darker shade of red that spread to the tip of their ears.

"Hey! We're at your house! Don't you think your mother wants you home?!" (F/2) quickly said, trying to get me to stop teasing them. "Guess we are." I said, taking the letter and photos back from my friends and headed inside.

When I got home I immediately went to my room so I could print off some pictures of myself. I found a few of me, (F/n) and (F/2) and printed them. After words I put them in the envelope and tried to finish my letter.

I heard a knock on my door as I was putting the letter in the envelope. "(Y/N), dinner is almost ready." I heard my mother's voice as she opened the door. "Okay, do you mind if I go take some pictures real quick for a school assignment?" I asked, taking my phone off of the charger. "Sure dear, just be back in 30ish minutes okay?" I nodded my head, and said a quick "yes ma'am" as I put my shoes on.

My mom left, to where I assume to be the kitchen, as gathered my things. I quickly plugged in my headphones to my phone and made my way downstairs. I then made my way around town and took quick pictures of some things that I typically see tourists go to.

When I was finished I made my way home, my mother telling me I was just in time for dinner. I quickly ate, telling my mom it was delicious as always, and then made my way upstairs. I hooked my phone to my computer and downloaded the photos I took. After a few hours of it downloading I was finally able to print off the ones I liked and put them in a separate envelope. 'Finally I can go to sleep.' I thought to myself as my body was finally able to hit the bed.

Chapter Four;

~Kenma's POV~

When I woke up I had realized that I woke up extremely late and I missed half of my classes. At this realization I rushed myself to the bathroom to get dressed and quickly checked to make sure I had everything before running out the door.

I pulled out my phone while running to see that it was already 10:27. 'Shit... I'm not going to make it in time to receive my letter!' I haphazardly threw my phone in my pocket and continued running.

At some point I skidded to a stop in front of my classroom. I was panting from running all the way here, so I took a second to regroup myself before I decided to knock on the door. I adjusted my tie and smoothed out my school uniform a little before lifting my hand, but just as I was about to make contact with the door, the bell rang and students started to file out of the rooms and into the hallways.

I stepped back to give the ones leaving some space. "Ahh, Kozume! You were late today." I could hear Fukunaga say as he exited. "I have your letters, I was planning on giving them to Kuroo, so he could leave it at your house, but I guess your here now." He told me, holding out a white envelope and a bigger orange/yellow one for me to grab. "Thank you."

I was still taking shallow breaths as sweat gathered on my temple, so it was no shock that Fukunaga noticed and made a comment about it. "The last time you were this tired was when you skipped practice because of a video game and coach made you run the entire practice. Where you really that eager to get your letter?"

At this a light blush came to my face. "No. I just wanted to make sure I didn't miss all of my classes and that coach wouldn't make me do that again." I told the male, referencing to the first, and last time I'd ever skip practice.

"Was it worth it?" Fukunaga asked as we started to walk. "No." I answered quickly while scrunching up my face at the thought, making Fukunaga laugh.

When I got home I made my way to my room and got the two envelopes out of my bag. I opened them quickly but made sure to not rip or tear anything.

After I read the note I took the photos out of the white envelopes first. When I saw the person I was pen pals with I could feel what raise to my cheeks and the corners of my lips tug into a small smile.

The first picture was of (L/N) and two of their friends. (L/N) was in the middle and held up a peace sign with a bright smile, while the one on the left held bunny fingers behind (L/N)'s head, and lastly the friends on the right had a small smile while they took the photo.

The second picture was only of (L/N), they were standing on side was as they covered the bottom half of their face, poorly hiding a blush, as they looked off to the side. This picture in particular made my small smile stretch a little into a grin.

The third photo made my smile instantly fall. This one had (L/N) and another male in the photo. In this one they were yelling at the male while he laughed at them. I felt some anger slowly form in the pit of my stomach. The first thought I had was that this was (L/N)'s boyfriend, which made the anger rise a tad more.

But then referencing to the letter, they said, as quoted, they took some pictures of themselves and "some of my friends" I quickly looked back at the letter to make sure that I didn't skip over anything, and referencing back they didn't say anything about a boyfriend. This made me relax a little, so I dismissed the option that it was their boyfriend as there was no evidence.

I picked up the yellow/orange envelope, opening it. Inside we're five pictures this time.

The first one was of a statue that has a little golden plaque near it, the statue itself was of a older looking man with a cane, just like the plaque the man was golden as well.

The second photo related to the first one, as it was a closer look of the plaque. As I read it, it explained how the statue was of the man that had founded their country.

The third photo was of a really nice looking castle. There was a little note at the bottom of the letter that said that this was where the man from the first picture had lived, and that both of these were a really big spot for tourists.

The fourth photo was at the castle again, except this time (L/N), the two friends from the first photo, and the male from the last one, were by one of the many knight armor that was lining the walls. They all made funny faces at the camera, looking like they were having a good time.

The fifth photo was one that made my blood boil. It was in the same spot at the last, but this time the male had leaned really close to (L/N) with his lips pressed against their cheek. He had a light blush on his face while (Y/N) had a huge one on theirs while their eyes were also wide open.

I couldn't help but glare at the photo that was currently in my hands. Suddenly their was a knock on my door and I could hear it creak open. "Hey Kenma, my parents are having a double date with your parents again tonight, so I was wondering if-."

With each word that left Kuroo's mouth I knew he was getting closer and closer to my side as his voice got louder, but I couldn't care less, even when he was right beside me and stopped talking, my eyes never left the picture, and my glare didn't falter either.

That was until Kuroo gave out a large cackle. I looked up and gave Kuroo the same glare, which only made him laugh harder. After ten minutes of his obnoxious laughter, he finally had enough and was clutching his stomach as he wiped away a fake tear.

"Kenma... that was the funniest thing I've ever seen you done." He wheezed out. "Now what are you glaring at?" He asked, snatching the photo out of my hands.

"Which one is the pen pal?" He asked, after a moment of studying the photo. "Take a guess." I mumbled out. "Hmm... the one being kissed?" Kuroo asked with a smile. I only puffed out my cheeks in annoyance as I fell back onto my bed.

"Hey, I didn't know your pen pal knew mine." "What do you mean." I leaned my head to the side to look at Kuroo. "The one with the (random hair color) and (random eye color)." Kuroo turned the photo so that I could see it and pointed at one of the people that were in the first photo.

My eyes shifted from the person Kuroo was pointing at to the male and (Y/N), making me groan and turn the other way. "Ya know, I've never seen you so upset about a person." Kuroo pointed out, and by his tone I could just picture the smile he was giving me.

I grumbled out a excuse under my breath which only caused Kuroo to laugh. "How about I treat you to some apple pie?" I sat up slowly and glanced at Kuroo then to the picture that was in his hand.

"Are we going to the one on 57th street?" Kuroo nodded his head at my question. Instead of replying I stood up and put my shoes on. We both walked in silence to the bakery that I loved.

Kuroo had just left my house so I decided I would take the left over pie from earlier and take it to my room so I could start writing me letter.

As I started to write it the only question I could think of asking was "who was the boy" and "is he your boyfriend or is he just a friend" or "why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone"

The urge to ask (L/N) those questions, and many more, was very high. Eventually I got through the note without commenting on the mysterious male.

It was late so I decided to get some rest for tomorrow, but the longer I stayed without knowing that I'd get closer, the more thoughts that swarmed my head. Like, 'how long have they been dating' and 'are they still together' or 'did they break up' and 'are they maybe just childhood friends' and 'are they in a happy relationship' and of course many others. But lastly..

'what if that was me instead of him?'

Chapter Five;

~Reader's POV~

I walked into the classroom with a skip in my step, I was excited to be getting my letter from Kozume. I quickly sat down in my seat, with a wide smile.

"Wow, since when do you come into class without your face in your phone? Did you beat a new video game?" (F/n) giggled out. "I did finish Super Mario Brothers 2 last night, but that's not why I'm excited."

"Oh, is it the letter from your dear Kenma then?" (F/n) teased as I blushed. "Come on, we aren't even on first name basis." "Doesn't mean you don't like him~!" They teased even further, making me blush even darker in return.

Before I could rebuttal, the teacher walks in with the letters. "Okay class, I'll pass out the letters and I want you guys to write your responses quickly because we have work to do today.... I'll give you guys 15 minutes after I pass them out."

The teacher passed back the papers and I beam to read through mine.

'Dear (L/N), (Y/N)

Hello again, I wanted to say that I found you very pretty in the pictures you sent, it's not a surprise to me that you have a loving boyfriend. How long have you guys been together, and what's his name? By the fifth photo you sent with the castle I'd assume that it's been a while. I couldn't send photos this time, but I'll try in my next letter. I wish you and your boyfriend the best.

-Sincerely, Kozume Kenma'

At the word boyfriend I could feel my eyebrow quirk up. I wasn't dating anyone, and I haven't dated anyone in a few years. Then i remember sending a photo of (M/n) (male name). It was just a photo of me and him arguing over a video game, so I'd assume nothing when sending it, but i guess Kenma had assumed otherwise.

I quickly started off my letter by telling him that (M/n) wasn't my boyfriend, just a close friend I've had since Jr. High. I continued the letter by saying that he has been like a brother to me for so, nothing could ever change that. I then asked Kenma a few questions before closing off my letter and setting it aside. I didn't really have much to say, so my letter wasn't very long.

The 15 minute timer ran out and we continued with class as normal.

After my club me, (F/n), and (F/2) decided we would go to the arcade that was near by. "Hey (Y/N), I challenge you to a battle!" (F/2) said excitingly. "Oh!" I started, deciding to play along. "You dare challenge the queen!" This sentence made (F/2) giggle. "You mean the soon to be ex-Queen." (F/2) said smugly. "We'll see about that." I told them, a smirk growing on my face. "Now which game shall it be."

"Hmmm.... what about mortal combat!" (F/2) flicked my forehead. "You're on!" I yelled, racing them to the arcade machine. We both inserted our coins and picked our characters, then played.

"Ugh! Come on! No far!" So far we had done the best out of ten and I had won every single game. "Ahh, but I still have my crown. Looks like you couldn't beat the queen." I gave (F/2) a small smile.

"Oh, but I bet you want Kozume to be your king right?" (F/n) said out of nowhere, making me blush lightly. "I never said that..." I mumbled. "No, but you can't lie and say you haven't thought of it." This made my blush darken greatly and made me puff out my cheeks slightly. "I don't need a king...."

Chapter Six;

~Kenma's POV~

Just like very other week, the teacher passed out the letters. I was particular anxious about this one because of how many questions I asked about the mysterious male.

Not only that but what if it actually was their boyfriend? Will they think I'm being weird? Did I freak them out? What if they think I'm jealous? What if it gets awkward?

Once the teacher sat the letter on my desk I very hesitantly reached out to it. I very slowly opened the letter and then very tentatively read through the note.

In the very first sentence (L/N) had clarified that she was not dating the male in the photo, and that they were in fact childhood friends. And if anything he was a brother to her so nothing could have grown into anything bigger. I continued read on when the ending of the letter especially caught me eye, it read:

'I've been thinking about how this quarter is almost coming to an end, and in this short amount of time I have grown to consider you a really close friend and would like it if you addressed me by my first name. And if you wouldn't mind maybe we could talk about the possibility of me visiting during the summer (or vise versa)? I completely understand if you shut down both of my offers, I wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I look forward to your response!

-Sincerely yours, (Y/N) (L/N)'

I couldn't believe what I was reading. (L/N), not only considered us close, not only wants me to call them by their given name, but also would like to meet me in person. I was over- joyed to say the least, and I could feel my lips tug into a warm smile as I quickly wrote a letter back.

After school had ended I asked Kuroo to take me around Tokyo to some "touristy places" so I could take pictures to send to (Y/N), mainly because I didn't know the area well even though I've lived here for almost my entire life.

We walked around and took pictures of different things until around 8 and decided to head home. When I did get home I ate dinner and then printed the pictures to put inside the envelope along with the letter.

Chapter Seven;

~Reader's POV~

When I got in the classroom I was fidgeting a lot more than usual, and I guess (F/n) noticed. "Hey (Y/N), are you okay?" I nodded my head and took out my phone, I started to play one of my games, but I couldn't concentrate because my thoughts were spiraling.

Ever since I gave my teacher the letter to send off I had been anticipating Kozumes response. I was really worried about being to forward and scaring him off. But judging by the times we had play Pocket Camp, he seemed like he was having a good time? But I could have been reading to much into it?

As that thought crossed my mind my screen flashed with a "game over" text, making me sigh. I was way to fidgety to be playing the game and kept messing up.

"Woah, something just really be bothering you to lose at that game. What's wrong?" I sat my phone down and took a deep breath in and out. "I told Kozume to call me by my first name and I also told him that I could visit sometime if he liked. I'm just scared of what he'll say..."

(F/n) put a hang on my shoulder. "Hey, listen. You are a wonderful person and friends. If he can't see that through your guys letters and talks during your video games, then that's really his loss. You're beautiful, have a wonderful sense of humor, and have the most charming smile ever. If he can't see that then he's blind!"

(F/n)'s words made me giggle. It didn't erase my worries completely, but it helped a lot. The teacher then walked into the classroom and handed out the letters.

When I got my letter my nerves returned again... taking a deep breath I opened the letter and let that deep breath out, taking all of my worries with it. I grabbed the first the note and started to read it, praying there wasn't anything bad in it.

'Dear (Y/N), (L/N)

I wouldn't mind calling you by you given name if that is what you want, and I also wouldn't mind it if we arranged a meet up during the summers. Though if you wanted to tour Tokyo my friend would have to come with us because I don't know the area to well. I thought that I'd take some pictures of places that are near me and most tourist go. I also have little headings on the pictures to explain the the pictures a little.

-Sincerely, Kenma Kozume'

I couldn't help but smile when I read the bottom. Normally he would put his surname first, but this time he put his birth name, which meant that I would be able to call him by his birth name.

I then remembered that he had sent me photos and decided to open the separate yellow/orange envelope.

The first picture was a photograph of Tokyo Tower, the heading just stated that it was in fact Tokyo Tower and that some people mistake regular water towers for Tokyo Tower.

The second picture was of Kenma and his bedhead friend. They both stood in-front of the very famous Sensoji Temple. his arm around Kenma's shoulder while Kenma was looking down at his game. The heading had said the photo was of Kuroo and him last year when the bad went there on a school trip.

The third and last photo was Kenma and Kuroo again, but this time Kenma was looking at the camera, although he looked very annoyed, and Kuroo held up bunny ears behind Kenma. The head had explained that this was taken on a school field trip they had taken this year to Tokyo's National Museum.

I couldn't help but laugh at the picture in particular with a huge smile on my face. I quickly decided i should write a letter back to Kenma.

Chapter Eight;

~Kenma's POV~

Once again I got a letter from my teacher. When i opened it, it was all about (Y/N) gushing about how fun it will be to finally meet me in person. Towards the end of the letter (Y/N) had said that if i wanted to continue to talk, the i could give them my phone number. My last letter was short, I didn't really have a lot to say so it was pretty blunt....

As I got home from school I looked at my desk where my letter had sat, I didn't know if I should give that letter to my teacher or not.... the one thing I did know though was that my mind was constantly on (Y/N). My eyes always trialed to the small sliding drawer where I kept the letters she sent me, along with the photos.

I sat up from my bed and walked over to the desk and decided to re-read through the "old" letters. I even looked through the pictures. I subconsciously had a small smile on my face as I looked down at the photos.... well, all but two.

When I came across those two photos in particular my smile dropped. I immediately made up my mind as I saw those two photos.

Bad Ending;

~Reader's POV~

I walked into my classroom with a pep in my step. In my last letter I had asked Kenma for his number, and judging by how he still played Pocket Camp with me and came to visit my camp site, I'd say when I opened that letter, it was going to have his number in it.

I sat down and instantly started to fidget just like I did last week, the only difference being, this time it was from excitement. "You look happy this week." (F/n) pointed out, making me smile up at them. I honestly didn't have words to describe how happy I was, so instead I just nodded my head.

"Okay class, settle down. I thought I should point out before handing out these papers that this is that last letter that you will receive, and you won't need to write a letter back." After finishing this she started to hand the letters back. When the teacher got to me, she held a look of pity in her eyes and gave me an all knowing look, like she's seen situation play out like this a million different times before.

She then walked by my desk. She didn't say anything. She didn't put a note down, she just walked past and continued to hand out the notes. When she finished she had called me outside the classroom to speak with me.

"As you know, you didn't get a letter.... your pen pal, Kozume, decided that he couldn't bring himself to write another letter because of certain relationships you had with another male..." My teacher explained. The only thought racing through my head was "why".

"Um... can I go to the bathroom?" I asked. The teacher gave me a pitied look and nodded her head, walking inside the classroom. I went to the bathroom and went on Pocket Camp to text Kenma.

No matter how many times I texted him, no matter how many times he had seen it, he didn't respond.

He ghosted me....

Good Ending;

~Reader's POV~

"Okay class, settle down. I thought I should point out before handing out these papers that this is that last letter that you will receive, and you won't need to write a letter back." After finishing this she started to hand the letters back. When the teacher got to me, she smiled and gave me an all knowing look, like she's seen this a million different times before.

She didn't say anything though, and instead opted to just give me my letter. Immediately I opened it and grabbed the letter from inside. The words on the paper were short, sweet, and to the point.

'Dear (Y/N),

I can't wait for you to come to Tokyo, here's my number xxx-xxx-xxxx. Hope we can work the details out later.

-Sincerely, Kenma.'

My smile stretched further and I quickly got my phone out and punched Kenma's number into my phone, and quickly sent him a text saying that it was me.

-extra-

It was finally summer, and although I had to pick up some jobs, I gathered enough money to help pay for my ticket to Tokyo so I could see my dear boyfriend. I wanted to surprise Kenma, so I had been talking to one of his closest friends, Kuroo, for a few months about when to come and visit.

Eventually, we settled on a date and made plans. Kuroo was going to come pick me up from the airport and then take me to Kenma's house, saying he had a "surprise" for him.

I quickly texted Kuroo that I was boarding the plane and he said that he'd be seeing me in a few hours. When I got on the airplane and we took off, I could feel myself falling asleep.

I woke up to the captain saying that the plane had landed safely and that everyone could get off. I texted Kuroo and told him I arrived in Tokyo and he texted back saying he was waiting at the baggage claim.

I got my bag first and then started to look around for Kuroo. When I spotted him I I waved at him and called out his name. He turned to me and gave me one of his "signature smirks" as (F/2) had described it.

I walked up to him and we got into the car. Kuroo drove as we caught up and we also played a little bit of music. Mid way to Kenma's, I had gotten a notification from the boy himself.

To: (Y/N)<3

From: Babe<3

Hey, what are you doing?

To: Babe<3

From: (Y/N)<3

I just got off of work, can I text you when I get home?

To: (Y/N)<3

From: Babe<3

Yea, I'm sorry to bother you while driving. Make sure to stay safe.

To: Babe<3

From: (Y/N)<3

It's okay! I'll be safe, no need to worry. I'm not driving yet, though I'm about to. Ttyl!

"Who texted you?" Kuroo asked, not taking his eyes off the road. "It was Kenma, I told him I just got off work." "Okay, we should be there in a few minutes." Kuroo told me, making my lips tug into a small grin.

Not to long later and we arrived at Kenma's house. I couldn't help but have a slight bounce in my step as we walked to the front door, which Kuroo took notice of but chose not to mention. Kuroo had texted Kenma saying he had his surprise and to help him with it when he rang the door bell.

After we confirmed Kenma had seen the text and got a response I rang the doorbell with Kuroo standing behind me. A few minutes later the door opened, revealing Kenma.

When the door opened Kenma's eyes went wide and his mouth went slightly open in shock. His actions made me giggle. Before I could tease him, he quickly grabbed my wrist and pulled me in for a hug. His hands were around my waist as he buried his face into the crook of my neck. My hands rested around his neck as I took in his sent. 'Smells like apple pie...' I thought to myself.

Kenma suddenly pulled back and grabbed me by the chin, quickly making our lips connect for a split second before pulling away again. "Come inside." He said, opening the door wider to let both me and Kuroo inside. 'Tastes like it two.' I thought, with a wide smile.

#kenma #kenma kozume #x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #x you #haikyuu x you #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #fanfic #wattpad #penpal #complete #completed #gender neutral reader

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robyndehood · 3 years

Text

My Son's Story (pt. 1)

DISCLAIMER: I Know it's a bit of a long read, but it's important. Please read. I promise it isn't boring. Thank you!

Hi Everyone,

Intro

This is my first real attempt at Tumblr. Please contact me if anything I post violates a rule or is not considered appropriate. Anything I post, I truly mean no harm nor offense to anyone. But I need to write daily again to regain my gift and share it with the world. I have been working on my version of the "great American novel" for years. As a child, I was well on my way to becoming a successful author, but people had other ideas for my career path - and to put it bluntly - my contribution to society. Writer's block set in and then what was second nature to me - creative writing, became a lost skill. Or maybe a distant memory. Writers know that half the struggle as an artist is the dilemma of our own aspiration towards perfection. But nothing is perfect. It is a social construct and the antithesis of true beauty.

The Ultimate Birthday Gift

So, that said, let's talk about my son. He's three - he's actually turning four in December. He was born on my birthday and has been the greatest gift that I have ever received. I won't pretend that he is perfect or even generally compliant with my directions. But he's loving. He's empathetic. He's brilliant. He's beautiful. And most of all, he is the sweetest person I have ever met.

I am going to go slightly off-topic for a bit; just to paint the full picture. I don't want to ramble and I am definitely a believer that a short and to the point message is almost always far superior to a long and complicated message. But bear with me because this snippet of the backstory is essential. And my son's story is important.

Appalachia

We live in Pittsburgh, part of the Appalachian Mountain Range. There is no other way to say it than the unadulterated, ugly truth of it - Pittsburgh is racist. Very racist. Beyond that, there is a general lack of common courtesy to outsiders, customers of businesses, other patrons in stores, etc. And the rudeness, is actually pretty much unrelated to the racism. It sounds strange and surely, minorities who are on the receiving end of it would certainly assume that racism was the reason why they said "excuse me," "thank you," etc. and about half the time are ignored like they're a ghost. But don't get it twisted - there are many times the aforementioned behaviors by many Pittsburghers IS induced by racism AND a lack of common courtesy and manners. You see, their deep-seated tribalism is indoctrinated into many Pittsburghers so completely from a young age that they know no different. It would be difficult for them to understand this article and I'd bet anyone ten bucks that if enough PIttsburghers read this post - they will attack my analysis of Pittsburghese culture as though the post itself is a blitz on the entire city.

Brown or White?

I am latin and there aren't many latins in Pittsburgh. But when we moved to Pittsburgh when I was in seventh grade, people knew my last name. Summer had just passed and I do get brown. I can get brown very quickly in the right type of sun and I get brown eventually in the sun that exists in cloudy and northern Pittsburgh. In seventh grade, some boys decided it would be funny to call me "estupido," and up until two years ago, I avoided sun exposure that would reveal my "brownness" like the plague.

Subversive, Subconscious, and Secret Racism

So, not long after I started that strategy, I was treated as white. (Side note: latins can be any race; but it seems that societal constructs are seeking to change this long accepted designation and categorize latins as some in between, brown race and not an ethnicity. To be honest, I am ok with that and now proud to be latin.)

The reality of being treated white in Pittsburgh for many years was that I learned what white people actually said when they were only with other whites. The most common thing that was said was one white person mumbling to other white people that someone was a "dumb n******" or a "dumb monkey." I've heard white adults refer to children who were black as "n***lets." But it was always this crocodile smiling through their teeth behavior. They'd never dare say it to a black person. Instead, they'd just indirectly discriminate against them.

I do have to mention that by no means do all Pittsburghers behave this way. It's just too many of them. I don't know the percentage, but if I had to guess I'd say - 50% plus.

Yes, Racism Happens All The Time Even if You Don't See it Happen

Many white people will tell you that racism is gone because they don't ever observe it and Obama was president - a black president. Therefore, everything is now over. I can admit that I have experienced my share of discrimination when my skin darkens. But I had no clue how bad it was for black people out here until my son became the recipient of the ugliness of it all. To me, racists are by definition ignorant cowards; so it makes sense they'd pick on a small boy whose only family is his mother.

Evil Always Starts Slowly

If one reviews history, every evil dictator or regime began slowly chipping away human rights. By the time the citizens realized the dire state of their country, it was too late. Their freedoms were already taken away and mechanisms to fight back had also been methodically erased.

When my son was born - a boy who is half African (his father (if you want to call him that since he is basically not involved) is from Ghana); no issues arose for the first two and a half years. But then the indirect discrimination started. The same rules that applied for white children didn't apply to him. I could give so many examples. But let's just say, as a rambunctious boy, if my son mimicked a white boy's same rambunctious behavior, we were confronted and the white family was not confronted.

One day I made an appointment for my son's hair to get cut at Philip Pelusi. They made the appointment knowing that he was only two and a half. The receptionist let me know that the stylist was a "Grade A Stylist," so I would have to pay more. I was fine with paying more; cool. After the appointment was made, I mentioned to the receptionist that my son was mixed race. We ended the call and I began to get my son ready to leave. Within ten minutes, the salon called back and informed me that they didn't/wouldn't cut my son's "type of hair." I promptly returned the call and explained his hair was curly, that's all. They blatantly lied and told me that the stylist doesn't cut ANY curly hair. Right. So, if a white lady came in with curly hair she would be turned away? I doubt it. Either way, the stylist is "Grade A." She is also licensed to cut hair by the state. Shouldn't a requirement for state licensing require one to know how to cut all "types of hair"?; I saved the recording, by the way, and still have it.

As months progressed, little by little wherever my son and I went in "white areas," we felt hostile vibes. Other incidents occurred that couldn't be proven as racial discrimination, but I knew. Whites behaved as though my son didn't deserve to be around them.

Southern Hospitality

We traveled down south a few times in the past year. Yes, some of the south is very racist still to this day. But not where we drove. Suddenly people responded when we said "excuse me," "thank you," etc. No white families prevented my son from playing with their children. No one told me my son was a nuisance or put out that vibe.

The Lesser of Two Evils?

But we had to come back each time because we live here and I've been working my way out of the projects that I have lived in for four years. Shootings. Open drug use and sales. The smell of crack in the hallways. Infestations in other apartments that come our way no matter what we try. People peeing on the hallway floors. Yes, seriously. Young children being encouraged to bully and beat up other kids. Children stealing or attempting to steal my son's toys because their mothers buy them none. Gamgmembers as young as twelve.

So, I concluded: "yes, we will move, but until then, we only sleep in our apartment and we do not play at the projects' playground." I figured IF I saved a certain number of money since I have a car that I saved for and bought last year, we would make it in our new, chosen city (Tampa or Jacksonville).

But then the racism against my son in the "white playgrounds" became worse. One day he was playing with a five year old boy at an indoor playground. The mother had no issue with it. The father of the boy arrived half an hour in, promptly scooped the boy away from my son, and told his son that he had told him he was not to "play with n*****s." My son couldn't understand why he could no longer play with his new friend and kept calling to him, "friends again!" while sobbing because he thought he had upset the boy. I had to leave with my son because of it.

Another time, a ten-year-old boy taunted my son on an outdoor playground and called him a "dumb monkey." My son first attempted to yell, "I NOT DUMB MONKEY," a few times; but the boy persisted and even smirked in my direction. My son ran to me and asked me to make the boy stop. No parent in sight and again, I just had to leave with my son.

Enough is Enough

Finally, last month or so, my son and I were at our usual laundromat doing laundry. We had finished. My son skipped a few steps in front of me and tried to open the glass door but couldn't push the bar to open it because of his height. He placed (yes, placed..lightly) his foot on the door to try to give it a bit more of a nudge. I was a few seconds behind him so just pushed the door open and we went to our car to load our clean laundry into it. In retrospect, I saw an older white male go next door to the beer store right after we walked out of the laundromar. The beer store employee approached us as I loaded my laundry into my car and then intended to leave.

The beer store employee told me he was getting "reports that kids were kicking glass." He said kids. Plural. And what he said made me envision a bunch of grade school kids kicking around broken glass on the sidewalk or parking lot. I responded calmly that "I have one kid and he's been with me the whole time. He wasn't involved." The beer store employee wanted drama to transpire. It was obvious. He said in a threatening manner: "Just so you know, I have cameras." My son and I exchanged glances because we were confused. What kids? Kids were kicking glass. Where? What glass?

Again though, I calmly responded that my son wasn't involved and he should check his cameras. He told me he was calling the cops. So I got my three-year-old son in his car seat and set a time limit of ten minutes to wait. We weren't running when he didn't do anything. The cops of course showed up about a minute later. It's ridiculous because in our projects (different police department than the laundromat police department), there have been shootings where children were outside playing when several clips were emptied into crowds and the police station is a block away. I know people called and it took an hour for them to arrive on scene.

Long story short, the laundromat cops knew it was a bullshit call. The supposed "kicking glass" was because my son placed his foot on the door to try to open it when we were LEAVING. The police eventually informed us that was the alleged "kicking of glass." There was no kicking that happened. The door wasn't even dirtier, let alone damaged because my son tried to use his foot to open the door. Lightly, by the way.

Even though the police were kind to my son, for the next week, my usual gregarious child was terrified to go anywhere. He eventually told me it was because "the cops will chase me and take me to jail because I bad guy now."

He's over it now. Mostly.

But we still have to pick between the craziness of playing at our aforementioned projects or going to a "white playground" and risking my son being rejected. It's usually a 50/50 shot that he will be rejected. If he gets rejected, he gets very upset.

Again, these are problems we never faced on our travels down the southern eastern seaboard. We didn't get treated like this at the destinations or on the journey by car to and from the destinations.

I knew we were living in an extremely racist and rude area, but one day I found this. It's a map delineating the results of a study conducted by Google and others regarding the level of racism in different parts of the country.

I already knew this much. But it's good to know I'm right that we are in the worst part of the U.S. for racism and the kindness we received traveling to those certain southern states was no illusion. And I did ask locals before I found this map if I was right that people are kinder to all colors in whichever given area.

Not the Worst Thing That Happened But the Last Straw

People talk a lot about Karens these days. This lady looked like she jumped right out of a Karen meme. My son was two feet away from her while we waited in line and she said as obnoxiously as possible: "Can you handle this? Please get him out of MY space." Yeah, I didn't let it go. At all. Her argument was that she said "please" so it's OK to make my son feel like a "this" and not a little boy. I held him while he sobbed. Long story short, I decided right then anywhere has to be better than this.

It isn't me just knowing people are being nasty to my son and I'm upset. He understands. He had an evaluation for something and he tested very well. He cried about each of these incidents. He just wants to make people smile and make friends.

So, next month we are going for it. I'm no where close to the aforementioned goal. I have some savings. We may end up in shelters at first after savings dry up in a few weeks. But we cannot survive up here. Nor can we advance here.

Side Note

I wrote this mostly to inform others of the status quo and reality of racism and the real effects it has on one tiny boy. And I know it will just get worse if we stay since it's this bad already.

But if you anyone knows of any resources to help us get on our feet in a month in Tampa or Jacksonville (Tampa is my first choice, but either one.) I have applied for housing, even though I didn't and don't want to go back to projects; but I'd take one down there over watching my son endure so much pain any day of the week.

Ok, so final part: I'm going to say upfront I feel extremely awkward with this paragraph because this isn't my way (years before my son was born I was homeless for a stint and never sat with a sign or a cup. Just couldn't do it), but for my son, I'm going to drop my cashtag here. Everyone is struggling and I know there are people with much worse problems. I appreciate anyone who has read this far and can help spread the reality of what I wrote about. That's the reason for the article; but if help is received at all because of it, we would be grateful but it's definitely a far second most important reason for the post. Here it goes, for my baby, in case it'll change his life and give us that better foot up, here it is: $RobyndeHood

#black love #blm #race and politics #kids #parenthood #parenting #latinboys #latin women #writers on tumblr #black lives matter #black stories #nonprofit #karens

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slaaneshfic · 4 years

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Conclusions and sorrow

I've nearly finished editing the three books. I'm slightly overdue with submission, but it is what it is.

Underpinning most of my PhD research has been my ongoing relationship with the two elderly Staffordshire bull terriers that my partner and I adopted right at the start of it, around Christmas 2016.

It is with overwhelming heartbeat that yesterday, after I visit from the mobile vet, we discovered that Lea has a late stage inoperable growth. The vets are returning tomorrow and we will be saying goodbye to lea. I don't have the words yet to address the feeling of loss, or the anxiety of this ongoing 48 where I with lea at every moment to make sure she is as comfortable as possible. it's a lot. And I need to keep writing things in order to occupy my mind. So this is a draft (since edited, but that's in InDesign files I can't access from my phone) of the potential lines beyond the PhD, including the thing I worked on for a year regarding dogs, but couldn't emotionally deal with even prior to this last illness.

I could not have done this research without my relationship with Buster and Lea. The concept of care which I've addressed is as much drawn from this relationship as it is from Sedgwick. How to care for someone across the lines of different bodies and senses and desires. The concept of play as emergent collaboration equally comes from learning to play with dogs who had suffered neglect at the hands of their original owners, and then a year recovering in the noisy RSPCA kennels before they were well enough to be rehomed. I love you lea.

Conclusions and exits.

The structure and methodology of this PhD Output consisting of three approaches to a central area of art practice, and within each approach multiple overlapping attempts through the various documents, turns the issue of a conclusion into a challenge.

Rather than attempt to draw books and documents toward a unifying conclusion, erasing the differences between then, I have offered conclusions in the documents individually. Some of these are clearly labeled as such, some are more demonstrative, and some left as provocations.

Throughout the three books are indications of where future paths could proceed. For continuation of creative research and the application of concepts developed, these indications are generally placed at the end of documents. Paths which are more tangential, or areas where the research could be reinforced through engaging with a separate discipline or practitioner appear in endnotes.

In place of some kind of ending for the PhD Output as whole I will raise three of the avenues of future research not already mentioned in individual documents, that will be pursued at its end. All of these examples incorporate work already commenced, that for practical reasons has not been addressed in documents.

The Incomplete Object.

Archeologist Chantal Conneller has produced a large amount of research focused Star Carr, a Mesolithic site in Yorkshire (Conneller, 2004, 2011; Little et al., 2016; Milner, Conneller, & Taylor, 2018a, 2018b). In particular, Conneller has provided a framework for examining some of the objects recovered from the site, and through this reassess the historic inhabitants of the area’s relationship to animals and objects. The objects, twentyone of which were found during the site’s excavation by Professor J.G.D. Clark between 1949 and 1951, consist of the “uppermost part of the skull of a red deer, with the antlers still attached” and are referred to as “antler frontlets” (Conneller, 2004, p. 37). In offering an interpretation for the frontlet’s use, Clark “suggested they could have been used either as hunting aids, to permit hunters to stalk animals at close range without being seen, or as headgear in ritual dances” (Conneller, 2004, p. 37). This interpretation resulted in an impasse between a “‘functional’ and a ‘ritual’ analogy” and has according to Conneller, meant that “in the intervening 50 years they have been ignored” (Conneller, 2004, p. 37).

Conneller’s research breaches the impasse of an animal derived object needing to be either functional or ritual by use of philosopher Gilles Deleze and psychoanalyst Félix Guattari’s work in “A Thousand Plateaus” (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987). Firstly, Conneller outlines how in Deleuze and Guattari, “animals come to be seen [...] as an assemblage composed of a number of ways of perceiving and acting in the word” (Conneller, 2004, p. 44). In this view, animals are not singular fixed entities, and the objects derived from them are therefore not limited to being symbolic of the animal whole or else be understood only as practical material. Animals are here understood as collection of “affects” (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987, p. 253), and the objects derived from them convey those Affects to the user in a manner which outside of the binary of ritual and functional. From this point Conneller proceeds to “examine the specific ways in which different things are seen to modify or extend the capacities of people in particular contexts” (Conneller, 2004, p. 51), bridging Deleuze and Guattari to theorist Donna Haraway’s concept of “situated knowledges” which replaces a fixed epistemological view with “webs of differential positioning” (D. Haraway, 1988, p. 590). The use of animal objects becomes simultaneously a process of taking on capacities as well as the ethical/epistemological/affective engagement with the world from another position.

These observations from archeology are useful not because they set some historic precedent for how art should function, but because they articulate processes which are important to art from another perspective. In the documents in this PhD Output which examine artworks I have consciously treated both the processes deployed by the artist and those of her characters in the same manner. In the art I am interested in, things are not easily split between the practical and the ritual but form processes across these lines to perform different things.

Finally, when I contacted Conneller in 2019 she was continuing to examine the frontlets of Star Carr in terms of how they function as “unfinished things”. Conneller has already observed that the frontlets were “broken up as a source of raw material” (Conneller, 2004, p. 46), but is now considering how this occurred concurrently with their uses. A framework for considering art objects which do not reach a fixed state, but are continually re-worked, and drawn from while being used is relevant to a number of documents in this PhD Output. It is relevant to the analysis of artist Tai Shani’s works (SHANI, 2019) which undergo edits between redeployments, or the ongoing work “sidekick” (Price, 2013) by Elizabeth Price. Going forward, I would consider how unfinished things connects to the writing practice of William Burruoghs both through the “cut-up” technique to “cut oneself out of language” (Hassan, 1963, p. 9), and the process whereby his novels were re-edited in subsequent editions. Burroughs is also relevant to the other side of unfinished things whereby these things are not just refined, but are a source of material for future things. I am also interested in the process by which computer software is updated via “patches” (Fisher, 2019) as another model for an unfinished thing.

I’m interested in the political implications of objects which refuse the linear transition from raw material to finished commodity, but is instead part of processes which cross that distinction. To borrow the image from Karl Marx’s Capital Vol. 1 (Marx, 1981), what would it mean for “coat” to remain functioning as “ten yards of linen”, to be always in a process of being woven/unwoven/rewoven into different forms? I feel there is something here to be pursued via the concepts of Incomplete Provocations, and the improvisations and departures which are centred in Tabletop Role Playing Games.

Divination Storytelling

The second exit is far more practical and straightforward. During my research I have used and developed methods for creating parts of narratives based on sortation systems such as card decks and dice rolls. In 2018 I produced an artwork entitled “The Sodden Gates of Vulnerability” which borrowed a mechanic used in multiple games whereby the space in which play takes places is procedurally generated. A hypothetical example of this mechanic would be a game which takes place in a derelict spaceship, the interior rooms and corridors of which is represented with cardboard tiles. When the players reach the exit of one room, a new random room tile is placed at the exit from the first, so the spaceship is configured, and unpredictable, with each subsequent playthrough. In The Sodden Gates of Vulnerability I combined some of the lore from Games Workshop’s derelict spaceship exploration game “Space Hulk” (Games Workshop, 1999) with their subsequently released rules for randomly generated spaceships (Hunt, 2013), to randomly generate prompts for a narrative built from a fictionalised version of my own past.

As a result of the cessation symptoms I was experiencing while coming off antidepressants I found memories returning that medication use had suppressed. In addition, there were physical cessation symptoms which mnemonically triggered some often confused memories of spaces in the town centre of Luton where I spent my teens, frequently from times in the early hours of the morning after leaving a club or a party. I reconstructed these fragmented memories, and the bodily feelings which connected them to the present, and any emergent feelings and noted them down as prompts on index cards. Some memories were so abstract as to not describe a place but just a sensation, or an action. These abstract memories, combined with some other images and thoughts were written up in a list and labeled 1-20.

The Sodden Gates of Vulnerability was produced as a single take spoken performance to microphone. It began with a short reflection on the different ways in which physical geography and brain chemistry are both modulated by chemicals. After this I shuffled and dealt an index card, describing the derelict spaceship/ 4am Luton Town Centre space it represented in the manner of Games Master setting a scene for players of a Role Playing Game. I then rolled a 20 sided dice and used the corresponding entry from the list as a prompt for what the player (the audience to whom the work is addressed) did in traversing this space. A partial transcription of one room follows;

“You stagger out of the thickening fog into the area where escaping heat from the many times kicked in door makes a dim pocket at the edge of the street. Banging on the door that feels like it should have given in by now and it is finally opened by someone inside. You roll in, and so does the fog, and the door opener is already turning the corner ahead into the living room so you guess you will follow them, remembering to shut the door behind you.

The living room is thick with dust and hair and ash over the brown carpet and old sofas. No one has their feet on the floor, all bunched up to keep warm or to manage some symptoms of intake.

You just want to buy, but that isn't how this is going to work out. It never does.

Everything slips. Someone makes you take a music cassette and in lock-eyed intensity tells you why you will like it and when you will die.

A man takes you to one side and rapidly ages while sharing with you a one sided conversation about how he has lived his life. He has little ears like fins and catfish whiskers and it's clear from the way he holds and interacts with the portable stereo he cradles that he has a relationship with Fabio and Grooverider which is both more beastially physical and more vapourusly transcendental than you will ever understand.

You slip out and it's dawn and you have the cassette and you don't think you bought anything but now do not think you need anything so maybe you bought it and weren't paying attention during intake or maybe someone else was in charge of your body.

You roll out with the fog and luckily town is down hill but my god you would never be able to find this place again and my god you would probably never want to because all those people would want to check how closely you been following their advice on how to live.

Oh yeah the plot twist is you're a rabbit”.

Going forward, I would like to explore the mechanics of procedural narrative based on sortation systems, both as an improvised Rendition, and as material which is subsequently cut up and deployed in other ways, possibly as a development of Diagramatics. I’m looking into how I might produce these works for a platform like YouTube, possible using a split screen where half the image shows the face that speaks, and half shows the sortation system such as tarot-style cards.

Dog Mod

Running throughout all three books of this PhD Output are dogs. When I started this PhD in 2016, I soon afterward began living with Lea and Buster, two elderly Staffordshire Bull Terriers. The importance of this relationship to the research is something I have attempted, and failed, to articulate on many occasions in the last three years. As much as the majority of the documents in this PhD Output are underpinned by a desire to understand my own trans* non-binary gender identity, they are also a response to learning about what Deleuze and Guattari would call dog affects, as well as negotiating my emotions towards Lea and Buster particually during the sadly increasing points where they have become unwell.

In mid 2019 I sketched an outline for what I called the “Dog Mod”. In the language of games, a mod is something added to the game which alters part or all of its systems in some way. Mods are often produced by a third party, and can range from something which simply adds some different functionality (such as the campaign generator for Space Hulk referenced in the previous section) or completely reorientate the system, such as the mod “DayZ” that reconfigures military sim “ARMA” into a zombie survival game and spawned an entire genre of video games (Davison, 2014).

The aim of Dog Mod was to produce a document which could provide a means to reconfigure the rest of the PhD Output through its unspoken focus, dogs. Dog Mod is something I decided was both conceptually and emotionally too overwhelming for me to be able to complete in time for submission, but I remains as a point of departure for my future research. It connects the Becoming-Animal of Deleuze and Guattari (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987; Stark & Roffe, 2015), philosopher Patricia MacCormack’s expansion of this into animal rights discourse in the Ahuman (MacCormack, 2014), with other ideas around, animals, play and care (Chen, 2012; D. J. Haraway, 2016; Massumi, 2014; Vint, 2008).

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