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semischarmed · 3 years

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Projection

Have I ever told you about how the astral plane works? So, here’s a little secret about me. I’ve been dabbling the past few years a little in lucid dreaming. Well, it turns out I have a knack for it, and it’s amazing, I can go around doing whatever I want. I climbed Mount Everest, flew through the skies, visited Paris. The possibilities are literally endless. And, me being me, I like to go around in these dreams trying different ways at possessing people.

Of course, since it’s still a dream at the end of the day, the experience is somewhat detached. As fucking hot as it is, flooding my dream self inside my hot neighbor, or phasing into that cute barista at the Starbucks down the street, I always wake up to a sense of disappointment. There’s only so much the brain can make up. I’m not particularly smart or imaginative either, so it honestly feels like half my energy is spent just trying to maintain that dream.

So that led me to try other means. Of course, the next logical step was astral projection. Unlike a dream, when you project, you yourself are experiencing the world- the real world. I wanted to try my hand at projecting into people.

I found a book online that detailed specific steps on how to achieve this. I think this was where the trouble began. In addition to being a great lucid dreamer, I was apparently an astral projection savant. The book mentioned it could take months before I could manifest my full body outside the physical plane, and years before I could untether and explore the world. It took me two days before I was able to leave my own body and jump inside people.

All things considered, astral projection is a bit of a dead end. I thought I’d be able to jump inside people, control them, live as them, fuck as them, the works. Well, the human body is resilient. It knows what soul belongs in it, so there’s not much to do inside someone, you can’t really influence what they do, and people seem to pick up on the odd sensation of someone else being in the room with them, so even when I do jump inside someone masturbating or fucking, half of them stop on the spot. Still, when you’re in someone who’s a little more fearless, you feel their body as them, and, let me just say, it’s hot being inside someone when they masturbate. It’s like feeling your own hand do the deed, but you feel it as them. You feel every muscle, every feeling, every thought. The hot ones kind of suck at it, but the afterglow is pure bliss.

This book gives one strange rule on projection though: Twins, especially identical ones, are unique. They hold a special bond. “Do not project into a twin.” Given this ominous warning and my curiosity, and given how much of an expert I already was at this whole projecting thing, I had no choice but to try.

———

The first time I projected into a twin, was magical. Of course, I knew immediately who I wanted to test this on. The hot twins who lived down the street who were especially close. They seemed to have different people over all the time so at the very least, they were active. I had my sights on one particular twin: Chase. Goddamn what a specimen.

I decided to go into a sleeping Chase as a trial run during one of my late nights. The twins apparently slept on the same bed, which was a bit weird but was perhaps a testament to to their closeness. I thought it was kind of cute. Like with all projection, the body resists the intrusion and I have to claw my way into him. Easy enough.

Chase’s twin Caleb immediately stirred with eyes closed in confusion- “Chase... are you there?” The slumbering Chase did not respond. Upon closer inspection, I caught sight of Caleb’s slumbering form talking to the spirit of Chase that he took inside himself. Oh shit does this mean what I think it means? Then I decided to move inside Chase’s body while his form followed my spirit’s commands. I knew it.

The first thing I did once I realized I had full control of Chase, of course, was to start playing with this new dick. In my excitement, I was immediately drawn back into my own form, awoken by my raging hard-on. Damn it! Fucking tease. I decided to finish beating it out, with Chase’s hot bod on my mind and a resolve from then on to get better at this projecting thing and stay longer inside him.

I made a fascinating discovery that day- a discovery that had probably prompted that ominous message in the first place. Twins are already naturally connected in spirit, so when you astral project into a twin, you can displace them and the owner’s spirit actually has a welcome place to go.

———

The second time I projected into a twin, I went into the wrong one. Equally unfortunate was that they seemed to have just had a fight, sitting in and angry silence before going to their respective rooms. I really should have done more research as far as who lived where because the person’s back that I slammed into was none other than Caleb. Likewise, it was apparently possible for twins to resist the displacement. This one was a fighter. The first thing I try to do in his body is flow into each limb and untether him. This proved to be fruitless, as he was easily able to fend off my attacks, kicking me right out of his body. I wasn’t one to lose a challenge so I again attempted a different route this time, concentrating all of me into his mind- control the mind and the body follows. Failure again. My final route was perhaps the cruelest, I expanded and positioned my soul to encompass all of him and began an all out barrage for control of his bod. Back and forth, my spirit squeezed in and out into him from all sides until he could no longer defend himself.

Finally, his soul submitted and I felt an emptying motion, accompanied by a quick shout from the other room. “H-What the fuck!” Chase barged in, visibly shaking, hands on his head in a mix of pain and confusion. He looked at me intently with an emotion I could not attribute. In response I gave a quick smirk and flipped him off with his own body before stating “Caleb, you’re pretty cute too. You like this? This is mine now.” As I start doing poses with his body, the emotion of my temporary twin became clear. Desire.

I stripped shirtless and began doing push-ups with his body, easily clearing 70 before finally breaking a sweat. I stood up and raised my Caleb arms, imbuing the room with his scent. Caleb looked on from Chase’s body with silent intent.

I then used Caleb’s nose to sniff his own armpits, used his own tongue to lick it clean, used his own mouth to flash him a demented smile. “Caleb, you taste very good, just like your hot brother,” I stated “-cmon, join meeee Chase... let’s do something sacrilegious” I ended with a wink. Of course, my fucking body woke up again, just when it was getting good. In the process, Chase also fell unconscious, as the real Caleb returned to himself. As I felt the last of my spirit be pulled back, and the waking world return, I caught the troubling sight of Caleb, back inside his own body, furiously masturbating over the events that had transpired.

——-

The third time I projected into a twin, he fell into depravity with me. Truth be told, I was again making a beeline right for Chase because, come on, look this face. Just as I was about to claim that tight ass, I felt myself get dragged into Caleb. A-fucking-gain. This time felt different though- he was still in the body with me. That in itself wasn’t too odd, given our fight from last time, but even stranger this time around was that his body was willing. It readily welcomed my soul. His form followed my spirit’s every move, yet I still felt his soul present, compliant. I decided to do what I meant to do in Chase and began masturbating. At the end of the day, they were twins after all, Caleb was still fucking hot to cum through, and I was not one to miss an opportunity.

“Well I think today’s little trip is gonna be a two-for one” I said with his voice as I finished. I then purged myself from Caleb’s physical form and headed straight for Chase until I felt a part of my current body pull me back. My spectral form attempted to claw myself back towards Chase, but Caleb’s pull had been too strong. He wasn’t letting me go. My spirit recoiled and slammed right back into his and I felt a part of myself stain Caleb. “I didn’t say you could leave,” he commanded, forcing me to watch as he began to rub our body with his warm seed. Hot. We both brought some of it up to our shared mouth, taking in all that we had just completed. “If you want, I’ll let you go so you can go inside that asshole Chase”, he states, “Make him dirty like me...or I’ll have to”. That last line definitely threw me off. Though I meant to to investigate further, I again felt the pull of the waking world from my own body. He moaned a quick “thank you” before passing out.

The return trip to myself equally odd. The human body naturally resists a little before accepting a spirit, even when it’s the owner of that body but somehow mine accepted me with no push back. Something was off.

Still, being inside these twins was fucking hot and I was not going to let a few unfounded fears stop me. I set plans for my return trip to them.

———

The fourth time I projected into a twin was also the most impactful. I once again aimed for Chase, but immediately ran into a confusing sight...

Standing before me was Chase, or rather, Chase’s body, unconscious in frozen discomfort. As far as his soul, however, I could see its form convulsing and contorting in pain. I then catch sight of the cause of that pain- Caleb’s spectral form was somehow deep inside Chase’s filling into him. It’s like watching an infection in real-time.

I stood, or rather hovered, in silence at the bizarre display I had witnessed. Evidently, that was a mistake, because before I aimed to leave this terrifying sight and head back, I notice Chase’s unconscious form raise its head, turn right at me and give me a toothy, wicked smile. “I can see you”. Chase’s body licks its lips. “You probably didn’t know this but independent little Chase over here has been planning on leaving for a while now. Said we should split. Move to a different cities. Live out our own.” Chase’s body opens it’s eyes and starts walking to Caleb’s slumbering form. He leans over and starts making out with the unconscious Caleb. “Oh Caleb” he moans “Don’t worry. I’m never gonna leave you” Chase’s lips gently pry open Caleb’s and he snakes his tongue inside. Parts of Caleb’s cheek puff up and back down as Chase’s tongue explores every crevice. He sucks a little before letting out a satisfied sigh “so...so that’s what I taste like,” he says breathlessly.

Chase then starts playing with himself right next to his twin’s sleeping form and I couldn’t help but get a bit aroused. “You always were the hotter twin” Chase says to himself as he continues tracing his own calloused hands all over. His attention moves to the unconscious Caleb, who he stops first to ponder for a moment before beginning to pump. He then positions Chase’s mouth over his original body to expertly deepthroat his own dick. This stirs the Caleb body to life, and he makes them both finish on each other off.

With both bodies, Caleb finishes licking himself clean. “Since it’s all me over here, this is technically just masturbating” he says confidently, as if to justify the disturbing sight I just witnessed. Caleb then positions Chase’s sweaty body behind his and has Chase wrap his sweaty biceps into an embrace from behind. “Like I said bro [moan], I’m never leaving you”. Two amused pairs of eyes then look directly at me. “You’re never leaving us either right? We have to thank you somehow for this,” they say, gesturing at their incestuous selves. I am immediately creeped out. After thinking for a few seconds, they chime in unison “Welcome to the family! We have a present for you”. With that, Caleb drops unconscious. That was signal enough for me, giving me shock I need to head straight back for my body.

Of course, by the time I get there, I instead see my own self, sitting naked, eyes rolled back and moaning as he maneuvers my hands all over. I see him continue to explore me, twisting my nipples, which, fuck that feels good, masturbating me, using my own body to maneuver in ways I never did before. With Caleb inside, my body moves with a confidence I never had. The experience is surreal. The sheer pleasure more or less stuns my soul on the spot. When my physical body finishes cumming, Caleb brings our hands to scoop it up and, oddly, it tasted different- slightly salty, slightly sweet, slightly Caleb. He sniffs our armpit and, again, the scent was rank, putrid, and nothing I’ve ever created. What was coming out of my body was undeniably Caleb.

“Mmmmmm... property of Caleb now” he says with my voice, as he rubs my Caleb-smelling sweat all over. Admittedly this was kind of hot. With an assured stride that I didn’t know my body could perform, Caleb opens my door, greeted by a Chase carrying his own unconscious twin. Caleb brings my body to his own and starts defiling himself. He turns his own body around and starts fucking it with my penis. Fuck that also feels good. With each pump, his own body starts to animate, ever so slightly. When he finally cums, my physical form falls unconscious and Caleb stirs awake. I take this as my chance to get back inside me. Success.. and god with Caleb smeared all over me, I smell disgustingly good.

“You’ll never leave me, right?” The body in front of me questioned. I’m a bit taken aback and try to stammer out a response “Uh...-“ before I could finish, Chase penetrates me from behind. “That would be a no” He whispers before giving my ear a playful bite. Why did he have to be so cute. This whole series of events was something straight out of my dreams. Despite this, my self preservation instincts kick into overdrive. Whatever this is, however good this feels, I need to get out. Fast.

As if he could read my mind, Caleb’s body smiles as he makes his twin use his rough fingers to gently grab my hair and pull me back. He leans Chase over to give me a deep, sensual kiss. “Oh well, Chase isn’t here anymore. Caleb took me, all of me. We’ve always had a deep connection... but he wanted more-I trusted him and he used that love to get inside me, pervert my soul... he’s in so deep inside me now that Caleb is all that’s left.” He wipes his sweaty face all over mine and continues making out. He then starts gyrating his hips, pushing more of himself inside my body as the Caleb body does the opposite and swallows more of my still-hardened rod with his ass. I feel the throbbing almost impossibly deep inside me from Chase’s dick as they proceed. “Thank you for this” they moan in unison.

They continue humping me from both sides, locking me in a paralyzed bliss. “We wanted to give you something special for keeping us close” they say. Then I felt it in my soul. Caleb. He pulls my spirit out and with his twin souls begin to fuck me in the astral plane. The feeling is indescribable. Nirvana. Bliss. Ecstasy. Enveloped by and merged to Caleb and Chase’s spectral forms, completion. This could be me. This could be us forever.

Then reality snaps back and I am floating alone. I finally regain my composure I try to head back to my unconscious, smiling body. No dice. “Occupied” it says with a chuckle. I head for Chase’s instead, “mmmm getting close” it moans. My body grins wider and motions to the unconscious Caleb. He spits with both bodies at his own motionless form. “Go ahead, take you new place, Caleb”. With no other option, I fill into the empty Caleb shell.

Chase and my body then start fucking each other. Hard. Messy. He’s doing more things with my body that I didn’t even know was possible, and as the original owner of my body, and the current inhabitant of Caleb’s, I feel both motions amplified. Im sure he feels the same.

As Chase, he turns my body around, and again rams his thick dick inside. My body involuntarily gasps, which causes me to gasp inside of Caleb. He forces a wicked, dirty smile out of my body’s face as he plunges ever deeper. He slips Chase’s sweaty abs onto my body’s back, wraps tone, sweaty Chase biceps over mine into an armlock from behind and takes plump Chase lips into a quick peck on my body’s cheek. My body then sags unconscious. Despite the sight, the smell throughout the sweaty combination was undeniably just Caleb’s.

Chase’s eyes flutter and his body trembles as Caleb repossessed his twin’s body with the extra soul he stuffed mine with. With double the soul inside, Chase exudes double the vitality and in that sweaty embrace, Caleb again gyrated his twin’s body into mine as he fills it with double the seed- double the soul. “T-thank you for the house warming present. I’ll take real good care of you-you’ll take real good care of us” he moans, as Chase’s body now goes unconscious as well. Dread fills me.

Aside from the odd cases with twins, human bodies know who their masters are. The act of imbuing a soul into a different body is, in and of itself, unnatural. So it was at this point that my empty body starts involuntarily writhing, trying to escape. I see tears well in my closed eyes, still unconscious from effort. Of course, as Caleb, I motion to protect myself from whatever was going to occur next and set to pull my unconscious form off the Chase embrace. Before I could pull my body out of the entrapment, it shoots awake, face swinging upward to face me. Bright white eyes shoot open. Behind my skin I see a force pushing deep inside, stretching it unnaturally. The visage of Chase appears, beneath my flesh, wearing my face like a mask. Though it’s Chase’s spirit he melds, the smile growing is undeniably Caleb. When it all settles, eyes roll back into place. Instead of my normal eyes, Chase’s pale blue orbs appear in their place. The crooked smile grows to a laugh on my body, teeth looking odd, until I realize it was Chase’s own molars poking through my own mouth. He takes shallow breaths and smears more sweat around himself, and though I can’t place if it was my own body’s sweat or Chase’s, the smell emanating is fully Caleb. Bones crack, skin shivers and stretch and contract and construct and I feel, from my own soul, a massive wave of nausea.

If astral projection into another is, in itself, an unnatural act, astral displacement, astral merging was another layer of corruption entirely, it was unholy. He was changing something in me, fundamentally. Wave after wave of Chase’s flesh bleed into my body from Caleb’s onslaught. My nausea shifts into a unique pain, a pain of the soul, originating from where he stuffed my physical form full of Chase’s seed-Caleb’s seed, mixing and amalgamating us into a wholly new being. Musculature appears in place of the frame of my body’s previous shape as more and more of it is twisted and contorted. Then, perhaps in one last push of defiance, my body screams involuntarily, and I, in Caleb, scream.

“So you’ll never leave me, like he planned to” Caleb says, with a mix of my voice and his, as he rams the last, massive part of himself into my body. My physical form’s face contorts in discomfort one last time before Caleb settles it into satisfaction. “Look at us” he states as he runs vascular new hands over my body’s new face and then uses that new face to give me a seductive wink. “We’re cute as a button”. The transformation was complete- my old self no longer recognizable in the new brother he had created.

The change, of course, had hit my soul as well. From inside Caleb I screamed...convulsed...shook... moaned... you know, the works. When that last bit of Caleb dug inside my spirit and changed me, I truly felt him, felt my twin, felt his love. I’ll be a better Chase for him than Chase ever was. Our souls are bonded for life. I am a part of Caleb now, and he is a part of me. Everyone experiences it differently, but we’re all grateful after to have Caleb inside us, to be a part of something greater. I like to think I have the extra privilege of being his twin, new and improved, wearing his old body’s skin while he wears and controls mine. And sometimes, with his permission, I get to play around inside the others. Sometimes we switch and he lets me jump inside Chase, like I’m doing now. The only body off limits is my old one. I like to think that makes me special, it’s the only body Caleb keeps his soul in 100 percent of the time. It’s proof of our special connection. And he wears the new me so well, better than I ever could anyways.

And, well, that takes us to today doesn’t it? Why even tell you all of this? Caleb likes you. I like you. We like you. And we think it’s time to expand the family again. You got some good traits to work with- we’ll get a lot use out of that bod, after a few adjustments. You’re probably feeling a little sleepy now. Sorry, guilty, that was me. Oh this thick Chase dick you feel inching deeper inside your ass? Yep, obviously also me. But, cmon future bro, dig deeper, listen with your body. What else are you feeling? Do you feel our love, throbbing in you? Do you something else, leaking inside? Do you feel these calloused Chase hands pulling you ever deeper into us? Do you feel him? Do you feel Caleb already worming himself into you? Good. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you. You’re gonna love us. We’re gonna be fucking hot together after we’re done with you. Welcome Home.

—End —

Wanted to explore something a little different with this one. Hope y'all like it!

#male possession #twin possession #male body swap

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knuffled · 3 years

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just practice - chapter thirteen

here’s it is! it’s a shorter chapter, but i hope to have chapter fourteen up within two weeks, so be on the look out for that! if you enjoyed the chapter, reblogs are greatly appreciated! it helps make the effort needed to write the chapters feel worth it!

here’s the link for ao3

Takashi’s Batting Cage was a quaint, almost run down affair not far from Seneca Falls. The building was owned and maintained by an old Japanese man that had immigrated in the late sixties, and there was something about the place that made it feel like it was frozen in time. The walls were plastered vintage, hand-painted posters of bands like The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Cream, and The Shadows. Mr. Takashi himself often sat near the entrance with a cigarette hanging between his lips, polishing the wooden baseball bats that he had carved.

Behind him, there were two kiosks, one where you paid for rounds in the batting cage, and another where you could buy hotdogs made by Mr. Takashi’s wife, sold cheaply at a buck fifty. All you got was a bun, hotdog, minced onions, and a drizzle of mustard and ketchup, but Reyna had assured Annabeth that they were nothing short of life-changing.

The kiosks themselves faced a huge chain link fence that housed three pitching machines that whirred like projector reels. The fence was painted green and touching it was enough for the paint to flake onto your fingers.

To a newcomer, it didn’t make for a particularly impressive sight, but there was a warmth and coziness to the place that could only be experienced firsthand. Over the years, the batting cages had developed a devout following as a spot where anyone could go to have a good time. Spending even a few minutes there was enough to leave the impression that the place was well and truly loved, like an old baseball mitt.

Annabeth had never heard of the place until Reyna had suggested they hang out there the Saturday after Percy’s swim meet. She was therefore surprised to see the number of cars parked outside, although she suspected that that might also have had to do with the weather calming down some. Reyna was already waiting for her inside when Annabeth entered, leaning against the wall.

Once she spotted her, Reyna offered Annabeth a smile and said, “Hey, thanks for making the drive.”

“It was no big deal,” Annabeth said, unwrapping her scarf. “I couldn’t help being curious after how enthusiastic you sounded about the place.”

Reyna raised an eyebrow and her smile widened. “Oh boy, the pressure is on now, huh?”

“Just a little,” Annabeth said, grinning.

“Ooh, scary,” Reyna said. “C’mon, lets head inside.”

Annabeth nodded and followed Reyna to the first kiosk. There were families using two of the pitching machines, but thankfully they would have the third to themselves. A wooden sign was bolted to the kiosk, informing her that it was three dollars for five pitches. Reyna mulled it over for a short while before handing fifteen dollars over to the clerk and looking at Annabeth.

“I think we can start with that much and see how you like it,” Reyna said, shrugging.

Annabeth nodded and took a helmet from the clerk behind the kiosk before heading inside the cage with Reyna. They slipped off their jackets and set them aside on top of wooden bench that sat against the fence. The astroturf inside the cage was an oddly modern touch that felt anachronistic when juxtaposed with the otherwise retro atmosphere, but Annabeth didn’t have long to dwell on it because she was forced to move off to the side for Reyna’s first round on the machines.

Reyna slipped on her helmet and took a few practice swings before she stepped up to the plate and nodded to the assistant operating the pitching machine. The machine whirred on the far side of the fence and shot a ball towards them at incredible speed. Annabeth could barely even see the ball, but Reyna waited for the right moment and swung, making perfect contact. The ball cracked off the bat and sailed across the cage.

Annabeth focused more on the second pitch so that she wouldn’t make an ass of herself when it came for her to try as well. It was still almost faster than she could register, but even Reyna missed this time, which made her scowl. Although Reyna hit the three remaining pitches, she still looked peeved when she handed Annabeth bat at the end of her turn.

As she moved towards the plate, Annabeth couldn’t help feeling like she didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of hitting a single ball. Her suspicions were confirmed when the first ball fired past her before she even had a chance to react. The second one was no better, but she could at least make out the course of the ball. She managed to swing on the third and fourth pitches, but she didn’t make any contact. It was on the final fifth ball that she grazed the ball with her bat, sending it shooting upwards into the fence.

She ignored the way her face burned and turned to Reyna with a wry smile. “I think I’m gonna need you to give me some tips.”

“Your form could use some work,” Reyna admitted, stepping towards Annabeth.

Reyna put her hands on Annabeth’s hips and turned her slightly. “Angle your hips like this. Turn your shoulders a bit more this way. Move your left hand a little further down the bat.”

Annabeth couldn’t help feeling flustered by how casually Reyna was shifting her around. She was exactly the most touchy-feely person. She was only comfortable with it when it was someone she knew really well, but she was surprised to realize she was far less uncomfortable with Reyna than she thought she would have been. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if Reyna was aware of what she was doing.

“Do another round. I’ll go after you,” Reyna said, stepping back.

Annabeht cleared her throat and nodded before turning towards the pitching machines again. She grazed the first ball again and missed the second one entirely. On the third pitch, she finally managed to make contact, but the ball didn’t travel very far. The fourth and fifth pitches traveled further each time, but they didn’t pop off the bat the way they had when Reyna hit them.

She paid even closer to attention to Reyna during her turn to pick up on what she was doing that Annabeth wasn’t. Reyna missed the first pitch but hit the four subsequent ones. Each one shot farther and farther across the batting cage, soaring higher and higher, almost like she aiming for something. It was then that Annabeth noticed that there was a wooden target tied near the top of the cage. Although Reyna was still off the mark by some ways, she got progressively closer and closer with each attempt.

Nevertheless, Reyna still failed to hit the target once over the course of the next half-hour, which was presumably why she suggested taking a break to get some hotdogs. Annabeth was more than open to the offer, albeit for different reasons. Although she was improving, she still wasn’t anywhere near consistent enough to hit the ball properly more than once or twice a round, and it was beginning to get frustrating.

Once they bought a pair of hotdogs, they sat down at a table facing the fence and watched the other families play while they ate. Annabeth wasn’t really a huge fan of hotdogs, but she had to admit that Reyna had been true to her word.

After her first, she turned to Reyna and said, “Okay, this is stupid good for a dollar fifty.”

Reyna gave her a knowing look and grinned. “I know right?”

“I’ve never heard of this place before,” Annabeth said. “How did you come across it?”

“I heard about someone at school talking about it, so I figured I’d check it out sometime. Seemed like a good way to let off some steam,” Reyna said, taking another bite.

“I don’t if it’s just because this was my first time at a batting cage, but this is a lot harder than it looks.”

Reyna laughed. “That’s because the machines here are faster than at other places. You’re doing really well for your first time, though.”

“You didn’t have nearly as much trouble,” Annabeth noted.

Reyna shrugged and said, “I’ve been coming here for years now. I barely got any hits my first time around either. You’re doing better than I did then for sure.”

Annabeth chased some ketchup threatening to drip off her hotdog. “That would be enough to turn most people off from trying again.”

“It rubs me the wrong way to be shitty at something.”

“A friend of mine who said he went to summer camp with you said you weren’t bad at anything,” Annabeth said, smiling.

“Really? Who?”

“Jason Grace.”

Reyna’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, I remember him. Nice guy. Almost thought I had a crush on him, but that was before I realized I wasn’t straight.”

Well, that was news to her. Annabeth raised an eyebrow and tried to stifle a smirk. “Really?”

Reyna’s face turned a gentle shade of pink, which made Annabeth’s grin widen. “I was like thirteen, okay?”

“I’m not judging or anything,” Annabeth said innocently. “Just thought it was interesting.”

“That shit-eating grin on your face says otherwise,” Reyna grumbled.

“It’s okay, we were all cringe at thirteen.”

Reyna snorted. “Cringe is a good word to describe it, even if it’s mean.”

Annabeth waved her freehand dismissively. “What Jason doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, he’s got a hot girlfriend now anyways.”

Reyna gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you sure you’re straight?”

“What was it you said last time? ‘I might be gay, but I still have eyes?’” Annabeth said. “Same thing, except other way around. Besides, jury’s still out on the topic of my sexuality.”

“Fair play, I guess,” Reyna rolled her eyes. “Speaking of last time, how are things with your fake-boyfriend going?”

Annabeth picked at the onions on her hotdog and said, “You are awfully interested in him despite hating his guts.”

“I don’t hate him,” Reyna protested.

“Thinking he has bad vibes is pretty much the same thing.”

“You’re doing a rather poor job not answering the question. Sounds like something must have happened,” Reyna said suspiciously.

Annabeth sighed and resigned herself to telling Reyna what had happened on New Years and subsequently at the swim meet. Despite her initial reticence, it was honestly refreshing to be open with someone about the whole fake dating arrangement, just like it had the last time they had talked. The main thing that had been bugging Annabeth recently had been how during the aftermath of the swim meet, she’d come face to face with the realization that she had actually been totally okay with the idea of Percy kissing her. More than okay, actually.

I could have stopped the kiss at literally any point if I hadn’t wanted it to happen. It was just as much my decision as it was yours, okay?

Those angry words of hers had kept echoing in her mind at random intervals almost every day. The fact that she had basically implied that she had wanted Percy to kiss her was an epiphany that she still struggled to make sense of. On the surface, she didn’t feel any differently about Percy, but it was the only explanation for why she had felt so disappointed on New Year’s Eve.

“That means I like him, right?” Annabeth asked aloud.

“Babe, you wanted to kiss him so bad you felt disappointed when it didn’t happen.”

Annabeth’s cheeks began to prickle. “I know jack shit about romance and relationships, so excuse me for not knowing.”

Reyna snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “This kind of goes beyond not knowing. It’s honestly kind of mind-boggling to me that you’re struggling so much with the idea that you might have a crush on someone.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and said, “I’ve been thinking the same thing too, lately. It seems like it’s natural for everyone else, but it feels so weird to me.”

“At one point, I thought that you were aromantic or something, but I get the vibe that it’s something else. Like, you dissect your emotions so clinically that you abstract them and save yourself from feeling them,” Reyna said.

Annabeth laughed despite herself. “Holy shit, that sounds exactly like what a therapist would say.”

“Fuck off,” Reyna said, bumping her with her shoulder.

Annabeth bit back a smile and said, “Not sure I totally understood you, but you’re sorta right. Only thing is, I feel all my other emotions normally. Just not this stuff.”

Reyna thought for a moment and said, “I don’t know, this is just me talking out my ass, but maybe you have some baggage about romantic relationships or something.

“If that’s you talking out your ass, you’re gonna make me feel real stupid,” Annabeth joked.

Reyna screwed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. “I take back what I said about having a crush on you. Dealing with this level of sass gives me a fucking headache.”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said, holding back a laugh. “I’m usually the one getting bullied, so I couldn’t resist the opportunity. I promise I’ll try to stop.”

Reyna rolled her eyes and looked thoroughly unconvinced, so Annabeth leaned into her and said, “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? When I see you at the Olympics someday, I wanna be able to brag to people that you once thought I was hot.”

“Don’t try and flatter yourself out of this,” Reyna snorted.

“I’m not,” Annabeth protested. “I could totally see you at the Olympics someday.”

At this, Reyna was oddly quiet. Annabeth thought she had touched a nerve, but Reyna looked up at her demurely and said, “You really think so?”

Annabeth blinked. “Yeah, I do.”

A shy smile made its way across Reyna’s face. “Thanks, Annabeth. It’s always been a dream of mine to compete in them someday, so it means a lot to hear you say that.”

“I have full faith in you,” Annabeth said earnestly. “I’m sure you can do it.”

Reyna laughed and said, “What ever happened to wanting to beat me at a meet?”

“Oh don’t worry, you can still be an Olympian after I kick your ass at State,” Annabeth said casually.

Reyna raised an eyebrow, her eyes darkening. “Is that so?”

Annabeth coughed surreptitiously and turned to finish her hotdog. Reyna bit back a smile but otherwise chose to spare her by not pursuing the topic any further. The silence gave Annabeth time to collect her thoughts and dwell more on what Reyna had said. There was a lot to process, but one thing in particular had struck a chord with her.

“About what you said earlier, about me having baggage about romance and stuff,” Annabeth began slowly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like being in a relationship was something meant for me. Not sure if I told you, but my mom left my dad and I when I was still a kid. She never explained why, but it really wrecked the both of us. Eventually, my dad remarried and moved on, but I don’t think I ever did. Move on, I mean. It’s hard for me to think about getting into a relationship when I saw what it did to my family, what it did to me,” Annabeth continued.

Reyna pressed her lips in a line and nodded. “My mom left our family too. I can understand how that would really affect your views on romantic relationships.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Reyna shrugged. “She had a good reason for it, so it’s whatever.”

She was tempted to ask Reyna more about it, but she was afraid of overstepping her bounds so she remained silent.

“I don’t know if it’s something I never wanted or if it’s something that I never allowed myself to want,” Annabeth said quietly.

Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “Does that even matter though?”

Annabeth looked at her with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Do you really get any value out of getting an answer to that question? Isn’t the only thing that matters what you want now?”

There was a pause. “I don’t want something that isn’t meant to last.”

“You have no way of knowing unless you give it a shot,” Reyna said softly. “Besides, what have you got to lose?”

“Everything.” Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. “I could lose everything. Percy is too important to me. I- I can’t lose him.”

Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “I don’t have any advice for you. I think, at the end of the day, it comes down to what you want and what you’re willing to risk for it. Only you can answer that.”

Annabeth nodded slowly and said, “Yeah. You’re right. I just wish it were easier.”

“Something tells me you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out,” Reyna said. “Besides, if all else fails, we can come here and you can hit baseballs as hard as you fucking can to get it out of your system.”

That managed to get a laugh out of her. “I might have to take you up on that sometime.”

Reyna opened her mouth to say something more, but then she looked past Annabeth’s shoulder and smirked. “Speaking of the devil.”

When Annabeth followed Reyna’s line of sight, she saw Percy standing by the entrance by three of his teammates from the swim team. One of that had said something that made him laugh, so he still hadn’t noticed her. She wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing him here, but she didn’t have long to dwell on it because one of his teammates spotted her and nudged Percy to get his attention.

Percy smiled once he saw her and gave her a small wave. At first, it didn’t seem like he would come over, but his teammates shoved him towards her, making him scowl.

He walked over and said, “Hey, fancy seeing you here.”

Annabeth cleared her throat and said, “Um, yeah, likewise. Reyna invited me here to hangout.”

Percy nodded to Reyna in greeting and said, “Hi, forgot if I ever introduced myself, but I’m Percy.”

Reyna offered him her hand and said, “Reyna. Annabeth here has told me a lot about you.”

He shook it with a bemused smile. “Only good things I hope?”

A sly smile danced on Reyna’s lips. “All sorts of good things actually.”

Percy’s questioning gaze flitted to Annabeth’s for a fraction of a second before immediately returning to Reyna. Though the way they spoke was casual, Annabeth felt a charged tension in the air, like anytime the two of them met. She assumed Percy was only going to make things worse until he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I, um, wanted to apologize for how standoffish I acted the last few times we met. It was a dick move, and I’m sorry about that,” he said.

Reyna blinked in surprise. “Oh, no worries. I wasn’t much better either.”

And just like that, the tension dissipated almost immediately. The two of them still looked awkward around each other, but the vague sense of hostility between them had faded. Percy’s apology had been enough of a metaphorical olive branch, Annabeth supposed.

“I know you came here with some friends, but do you want to try going a round or two in the cages with me?” Reyna asked suddenly.

Percy swayed on his heels. “Um.”

Reyna shrugged and said, “Just some friendly competition, promise.”

Percy looked to Annabeth for guidance, but Annabeth was just as clueless about Reyna’s motives as he was so she could only shrug. He mulled over it for a little while longer before nodding and following Reyna inside the batting cage. Before she joined them, Annabeth threw away the left overs of her hotdog and washed her hands to get the ketchup off her fingers. When she returned, Reyna finished slipping on her helmet and turned to Percy.

“We’ll do three rounds each, so fifteen pitches total. The person that hits that wooden target over there the most or gets closest to hitting it wins. Deal?” Reyna explained.

Percy nodded and leaned against the fence, next to the bench where Annabeth sat. They watched Reyna hit four of the first five pitches before it was Percy’s turn. Percy missed the first two pitches and only barely grazed the third one, sending it shooting upwards into the fence. He got decent hits on the last two, but like Annabeth, they barely traveled further than halfway across the batting cage.

Reyna hit four pitches again, and the last three sailed close to the target but fell just short. Percy’s next turn went much like his first. He managed to hit the ball each time, but the contact was too shaky to send it a decent distance. On Reyna’s last turn, she hit every single pitch, each getting closer to the target than the last, but in the end she didn’t manage to hit it. Reyna scowled when she stepped away from the plate and removed her helmet. Annabeth didn’t see why she was so upset. Judging by the previous rounds, it would be very unlikely for Percy to do any better than her.

Percy got good contact on the first three pitches, actually sending them all the way to the back fence, but they lacked the height needed to reach the target. On the fourth pitch, Percy’s grip on the bat slipped, causing it fly out of his hands instead of hitting the ball. His face was grim before the final pitch, but Annabeth could see that there were still traces of hope burning in his eyes. He had been subtly altering each of his swings in the last round, like he was testing something.

The pitching machine launched the last ball towards him, and Percy waited for the right moment before swinging. The ball exploded off his bat and shot all the way to the other side of the cage. Annabeth stood up from the bench and held her breath, watching the arcing trajectory of the ball. When the ball hit the target, barely off center, she grinned and threw an arm around him without thinking.

“Holy shit! You actually did it!” Annabeth beamed.

“Somehow,” Percy said, grinning. “I’m pretty sure that I just got lucky.”

When Reyna cleared her throat, Annabeth grew aware of how close she was to Percy, so she quickly disentangled herself from him, her face burning.

“You won, fair and square,” Reyna said, offering her hand again.

Percy turned to her and shook her hand. “I’m just glad I didn’t totally embarrass myself.”

Reyna rolled her eyes and said, “If anyone embarrassed themselves today, it was me. That was the second time I’ve lost to you.”

Percy furrowed his brow. “Second? There was another time?”

Reyna hummed under her breath, a twinkle in her eye. “I wonder.”

That did nothing to clear his confusion, but it was clear Reyna wasn’t going to elaborate so he didn’t press the issue. It was clear to Annabeth that Reyna was messing with him, but it didn’t seem malicious enough to make her angry. Still, she wished she knew what was going through Reyna’s head.

One of Percy’s teammates called out to him from the rental kiosk, so Percy thanked Reyna for the game and said goodbye to Annabeth before he left. Annabeth waved to him and watched him leave before she turned to Reyna with a frown.

“What was all that about?”

Reyna shrugged. “Nothing.”

“It was super obvious that you were messing with him,” Annabeth said, narrowing her eyes.

“Only a little bit,” Reyna said, smiling. “Don’t worry, it was just for shits and giggles.”

Annabeth pursed her lips. “Well, as long as you weren’t doing it to be mean, I guess it’s fine.”

“It’s nothing to get working up about,” Reyna laughed. “How do you feel about going another round?”

It was a poorly disguised attempt to change to the conversation, but Annabeth didn’t feel like pursuing the topic any further, so she sighed and said, “Sure, why not. About time I get my ass kicked again.”

#knuffled fic #just practice #percabeth fic #percabeth #fake dating au #percabeth fake dating au

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stxrrywildflower · 4 years

Text

holiday

pairing - bau team x teen!reader

summary - j.j. invites you to spend christmas with her and the boys

warnings - none

word count - ?

christmas was something you never really knew or experienced.

due to your parents constant working and boarderline neglect, holidays weren’t something you participated in. there were many thanksgivings and christmas’ where you were home alone as a result.

when j.j., who became almost a mother figure to you after over a year of babysitting henry, heard that you didn’t have anywhere to spend the holiday, she instantly invited you over.

“j.j. thank you, but no. you should be with will and henry. i’ll be fine on my own,” you protested, already packing up your bag from your latest babysitting job.

“y/n, no one should be alone on christmas. even spencer goes out to chicago with derek for the holiday,” j.j. fired back. you set your bag down, knowing that this would turn into a full conversation.

“it’s fine, i spent last christmas the same way,” you shrugged. “sweetie you’re seventeen, not happening. you can come over on the twenty-fourth sometime in the afternoon and just stay overnight for the few days. it’s not like you haven’t already.”

you nodded as j.j. wouldn’t take no for an answer. “i’ll see you then,” you said simply, grabbing your bag and with one final smile, you were out the door.

just a few days later, you were back outside of the lamontagne/jareau home. snowflakes were just begining to fall from the overcast clouds above, landing on your jacket and hat. you shivered slightly as you leaned forward to knock on the door.

j.j. answered rather quickly, ushering you inside with a “oh my god you must be freezing, come in!” you smiled softly at the profiler before picking up your bags and heading into the main foyer.

“y/n!” henry’s loud voice echoed down the hallway. you spun around just in time to see the young boy padding towards you. the smile you shot j.j. turned into a large grin has henry jumped into your arms.

“hi henry,” you cooed, tickling the boys stomach fo make him giggle.

will was next in the room, moving over to stand with j.j. “i can take your bags upstairs,” will offered. you nodded, feeling slightly guilty since they were already doing so much for you. as will picked up your things, henry tapped you on the shoulder. “are you spending christmas with us?”

your eyes darted over to j.j. for a quick second at henry’s question. “yeah i am. is that okay with you?”

henry nodded rapidly, “yeah!” you let out a sigh of relief. who knew how he would react to having someone else around at the holidays that wasn’t technically family. henry soon decided he was bored around the adults, well his parents and you, and ran off to go play.

you shed your coat and hat, hanging them over a chair once you reached the kitchen. “i’m assuming you want coffee? i picked up some of the holiday roast earlier,” j.j. offered. “yes please,” you answered.

“who knew it would be a white christmas,” j.j. spoke as she gazed outside while waiting for the coffee to brew. the snow had picked up, already coating the ground in a thin layer. “hopefully everyone on your team got to where they needed to be.”

“oh they did. we all make sure to text each other when we travel. rossi’s already in california, hotch is still in the city with jack, derek and spencer are in chicago, emily’s with her parents though i think it’s against her will, and then garcia is with sam,” j.j. rattled off.

the scent of coffee soon filled the kitchen, alerting you both that your drinks were ready. will appeared just in time to accept a mug from his wife.

“so i just have to give you a rundown on how we do christmas,” j.j. started, “today is pretty much just a relaxing day, maybe some games here and there. tomorrow, i’m sure henry will be up incredibly early, we do presents in the morning and then breakfast. that’s pretty much it.”

you nodded along, absorbing the words as j.j. informed you. the last thing you wanted was to be even more of an outsider on the family’s time together.

“momma, is it time?” henry whispered.

you, henry, and j.j. were all sitting in the living room. the main couch was occupied by the profiler, henry on the floor, and you on the matching loveseat. a roaring fire was in the fireplace, creating a warmth in the home. it was a stark contrast to the snow that had picked up in just a short period of time.

the previous cup of coffee you were drinking a few hours prior was replaced with hot chocolate as you didn’t want any more caffeine in your system. especially since it was later at night.

j.j. looked down at her son. “daddy is upstairs getting everything,” she explained.

you were slightly confused at the conversation, choosing to look down at your still steaming mug of hot chocolate instead of questioning it.

will was back down a moment later, two parcels in hand. after handing one to henry, he made his way over to you.

your fingers trembled as the gift was placed on your lap. the wrapping paper crinkled was your legs shifted back and forth out of pure nervousness. henry was already tearing into his, though the noise was seemingly muffled for you.

it had been years since you spent christmas with your family all together, nonetheless receive an actual gift. and now, having a present swaddled in the usual green and red wrapping paper, you didn’t exactly know how react. to add on to your emotions, at the top of the paper was your name in cursive gold font, obviously written by either j.j. or will.

“y/n?” you looked up just in time to see j.j. sit down on the loveseat beside you. will had taken henry upstairs to get changed into his new pajamas.

“no ones done something like this for me in awhile,” you revealed, feeling incredibly dumb that you were getting choked up on something as simple as a gift.

“done what?” j.j. questioned.

you sighed, placing the present off to the side. “put this much love and care into a holiday. i usually spend it watching reruns and ordering some takeout,” you ended with a slight laugh as an attempt to make a joke.

j.j.’s eyes softened before she shifted to face you. “and i just really wanted to thank you for having me. it really means a lot,” you spoke. j.j. pulled you into a tight hug, cradling your head for extra effect. the present was forgotten, only remembered when there was a slight ripping sound.

“now come on, open it,” j.j. urged gently. unlike henry, you took your time unwrapping the gift. inside was a simple white t-shirt with a christmas tree on the pocket and matching flannel pants. you grinned, running your hand over the extremely soft material. “thank you so much,” you thanked her again.

this time, you hugged j.j., resting your head on her shoulder. after rubbing her hand up and down your back, an incredibly comforting gesture you may add, you pulled away. “i’m probably going to head up to bed,” you announced. “sounds good, i’ll lock up down here. you better be wearing those pajamas tomorrow,” she teased. “oh i will.”

the following morning, you were woken up by the door to your room being pushed open and footsteps running in. “y/n!” henry whispered once he managed to climb up on your bed. you rubbed your eyes, stifling a yawn as you did so. “y/n!” henry whispered again, this time harsher.

“it’s christmas! we have to go wake up mom and dad!” henry exclaimed. you opened your eyes, a smile forming on your face at the excitement radiating off of henry. “alright henry. why don’t we head into the bathroom and brush our teeth? then we can wake your parents up,” you compromised.

henry jumped off of the bed once more, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of your room. the entire duration in the bathroom took only five minutes. henry was old enough to be able to brush his teeth on his own.

“i’m going to head downstairs and start some coffee. go wake up your parents and i’ll see you downstairs,” you spoke. henry nodded at your orders, already taking off running down the hallway.

you smiled softly to yourself, heading down the stairs and into the kitchen. you could hear the faint giggles of henry upstairs as you put the pot of coffee on.

henry ran into the kitchen, holding the hand of a still very tired will. you chuckled, placing a mug down on the counter for will who thanked you quickly. j.j. was next in, looking much more awake and peppy then her husband.

“merry christmas y/n,” j.j. greeted.

“merry christmas j.j.,” you replied, matching her words.

as the four of you settled back into the living room, henry opening the presents under the tree, you doing the same, and j.j. and will watching with proud smiles on their faces, it really was the best holiday you had ever had.

#criminal #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia #bau team #bau team x teen reader

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captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Hope | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 1)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Being back in your childhood home had certainly brought you some well-needed inspiration.

Word Count: 2900+

Pairing: (Eventual) Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Patient!Reader, OMC Harry Nelson x FWB!Reader, Rebecca Barnes x OFC Rosie Bender

Warnings: Heartbreak, Bullying, Grey’s Anatomy Spoilers

A/N: This fic was my entry for @wkemeup‘s 4K Writing Challenge. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS!

When Harry Nelson had first moved to Los Angeles at the age of eighteen, he’d had many dreams of becoming a screenwriter and director. He wanted to make movies that seemed relatable to the general public, with no action sequences or elements of science-fiction, no monsters or magic, no million dollar budget to be spent on visual effects. Just simple stories about real people, whether it was the kind that made them laugh or the kind that made them cry.

Throughout the span of his twenty-year long career in Hollywood, he had come to realize that the genre of romance movies had their own built-in audience that he could definitely make money off of. The hopeless romantics, as he liked to call them, were a group of people who were always longing to see love stories that don’t necessarily end happily, but still leave them believing that true love existed.

While he had since directed several romance films that went on to have the cultural impact in the likes of Notting Hill and The Notebook, it hadn’t been until he had met another hopeless romantic did he realize that he was one of them. For a man who never believed in true love, he sure enjoyed love stories. He was a hopeless romantic, as much as he hated to admit it. Whether his story was going to end happily or not, he still had a part to play in it.

Back when the first instalment of the Hopeless series had turned out to be a success, Harry had simply approached you in request of the movie rights to your novel series. While you hadn’t given in to his request due to not knowing how you might even end the series yourself, he decided to play the long game and wait until you figured out the ending.

Years had gone by and the two of you had only become best friends, bonding over your mutual love for the romance genre. Many movie nights were spent watching the classics such as Casablanca and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. He had invited you to his premieres and parties, to simply take part in the discourse of what it meant to write a beautiful love story that stood beyond its time. But the friendship you shared had turned to something more when you had found yourselves drunk at an after-party and consumed by lust of all things and not love as one would have assumed.

Even though becoming one of the love interests in your story had certainly not been his plan all along, he couldn’t complain about it either. A newly single romance novelist and a divorced filmmaker with a knack for romance getting involved with each other was not the strangest thing to take place in Hollywood, not even when you had a ten year age difference. You had kept your arrangement as secretive as you could though, for you did not need the prying eyes of the media to ruin what you had.

By the time the third instalment had been published, no one had suspected that the muse behind Dr. Jake Winston was Harry Nelson himself. Harry had seemed to figure it out early on though, when you had let him have a glimpse of the first draft. But when he gave you his approval to go ahead with the story, you had made him promise you that he would play the role he helped create if your novels were ever made into movies. Harry had been delighted to accept that if he were to make his acting debut, it would be as one of the love interests of Hope Anderson.

Being the man who taught you what it felt like to be safe in a relationship, he had always given you a way out of your friendship with benefits. After all, the strings had never been attached to begin with. But that was a path you did not think you would want to take, at least not until now.

Not that the two of you had managed to drive each other crazy like most Hollywood couples. As unsurprising as that would have been, you felt that you really needed a break from living the California dream and that included what you had with Harry.

With the fourth and final instalment of your series being due in just a few more months, you found yourself hitting a brick wall with where you wanted Hope Anderson’s story to go. Writer’s block was a curse that you hadn’t really experienced with the last three novels. But inspiration for the fourth novel had just not struck.

You were well aware that your readers were longing for a happy ending for the girl who had spent a majority of her life being heartbroken. For a strong and career-driven woman like herself, she could easily find someone to settle down with. But that wasn’t what you wanted when it came to the ending of your series.

You wanted Hope to find some kind of purpose for the journey that she had taken since leaving her hometown for college. You wanted things to be right for her, even if they weren’t necessarily right for you. There needed to be a purpose behind her journey, that was meant to be fulfilled in the final book.

It had been Harry’s suggestion, being a fellow writer himself, that it might be plausible if the fourth novel took a rather ‘coming-of-age’ kind of path compared to the last three instalment. Reid made her realize that she had moved on too soon, Ethan made her realize that love was messy, and Jake made her realize that there are good men in this world. Neither of these men had been right for her, but then who was?

“I think our girl Hope needs to go home.” Harry had suggested one night in the midst of your pillow talk. “She hasn’t been home in ten years. I think she needs a little trip of self-discovery, a walk down memory lane… she needs to find herself in order to find her one true love.”

“What makes you think that she’ll find her true love when she finds herself?” You had asked him, curiously.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

The air was crisp as you stepped out of your Uber and grabbed your suitcases from the trunk, leaving a heavy tip for the driver at the end of this dreadfully quiet ride from Indianapolis International Airport to your humble home in Shelbyville, Indiana.

Being back in this little city after an entire decade in the West Coast sure brought back the good old days for a moment there. But when the cold breeze hit you, you were reminded why you had fled your hometown in the first place. Certainly, you had gotten used to the California sun. But who could blame you though? This place was hell on earth.

As you dragged your suitcases up the driveway, you could not help but look around the neighborhood that you had grown up in. It seemed as though nothing had changed in the last ten years. Or perhaps, it was just the nostalgia of being back here that made it seem as though everything was still the same when it wasn’t.

Old man Nick who lived next door still had his ratty old truck parked out front - was that thing still kicking; you couldn’t believe it. The last you heard, his daughters Carol and Maria had moved out to Indianapolis after college and visited the man every now and then. Apparently, he refused to leave Shelbyville as he had lived there his whole life. His wife had lived and died at that house, and he could not see himself leaving behind the memory of her.

The girls had asked your mother to keep an eye on him, and she had kept an eye on him because she seemed to be the only one in the neighborhood he trusted. Your mother had told you that they were bonding over their mutual empty nest syndrome, but not even her attempt to guilt trip you had brought you back here.

You hadn’t even bothered to come back here when you had found out that your mother was ill. You had flown her out to Los Angeles instead, and did the best you could to give her the medical care she needed at one of the best hospitals in the country.

Not even when she had passed away did you ever try to come back and take care of the house she’d left behind for you. You just hated everything about Shelbyville, Indiana, to ever come back.

But nothing like a little writer’s block to bring you back here.

You made a mental note to leave a rather sarcastic voicemail for Harry, for convincing you to fly out here on your own and facing a part of your life that you never wanted to return to. God, you hated him sometimes, mostly because he was always right and he seemed to know it. You loved him too. Not the kind of love that destroys you, but the kind that made you realize that you always deserved to feel loved by someone.

Truth be told, the house was not as bad as you had thought it would be. It just needed a little dusting and maybe a paint job, but it was still your childhood home in every way. Nick had kept it in good shape while you were gone, because your mother had asked him to take care of it in case you had ever thought about coming back home.

You thanked the man when he handed you the keys, and asked him if you could borrow his truck to run some errands later that day. You just needed to run into town to pick up some groceries and stop by the hardware store to grab some supplies.

In the meantime, you could use the quiet and the nostalgia to come up with the perfect plot for the final instalment of your novel series. Perhaps you could start off with Hope Anderson returning to her hometown due to her mother being ill, putting a pin on completing her residency and giving herself a break from her arrangement with Jake.

She spends hours on end sitting by her mother’s bedside, losing her hope as the days rolled by. And when her mother passes away, she copes with her loss by spring cleaning her childhood home and fixing it up.

*EDIT: 4th love interest?

You had written a few pages of your first draft when you finally decided to take a break, stretching your arms as you stepped away from your laptop on the dining table. You had been avoiding your childhood bedroom like the plague ever since you had arrived, claiming the master bedroom as yours for the duration of your stay.

But as you ascended up the creaky stairway and turned the corner to your childhood bedroom, you could have sworn that the last ten years had never gone by. The paint was chipping off of the cream colored walls, multiple posters of the Jonas Brothers pasted against them, never being taken down in your years away.

You recalled the time you’d had the chance to meet them following their comeback, as one of their wives had starred in one of Harry’s films. You may not have been an overly enthusiastic fangirl on the red carpet, but you were certainly proud of how far you had come from your childhood bedroom. The teenage girl who used to live in this room had clearly grown up, living every dream she’d always had… except one.

You walked over to the desk at the corner of your room, where the first few scenes of your Grey’s Anatomy fanfiction had been written. You had written more than one hundred thousand words about the undying love between Mark Sloan and Lexie Grey, as though they had never died after that plane crash, not even realizing that the basis of that story would eventually inspire the plot of your third novel. The attending and the resident with a significant age difference - God, could you ever be original with your own writing?

This was the room where you fell in love with writing, but writing was not the only thing you had fallen in love with at the time. On the bulletin board above your desk remained one photograph, being held together by a thumb tack.

You remembered the day after your high school graduation, when you had forcefully ripped out most of the photographs you had pinned to that bulletin board and chucked them in the trash bin, along with the feelings you had for the seventeen year old boy who was in those photographs with you.

A part of you wanted to rip up the last remaining photograph that still remained on that bulletin board, but the ten years you had been away had certainly suppressed the anger you felt towards him. So instead, you left that photo where it was and returned to your laptop, picking up your writing from where you had left off but the thought of him now lingering through your mind.

James Buchanan Barnes. Your best friend. Your first love. Your first heartbreak. The reason why Hope Anderson’s love life, and yours, had become hopeless in the first place. Perhaps the best way to end this story was to go back to the very beginning, to where it all had started, to the man who had been a part of her life before Jake, Ethan and Reid.

“Oh Harry, you son of a bitch!”

Dr. James Barnes let out a yawn as he eyed the CT scans in front of him, even though it was only the beginning of his twelve hour call shift. Only into the second year of his three year residency in emergency medicine, he was starting to familiarize with the intensity of his life as an emergency room physician. Sleepless nights were only the bare minimum.

Not that he could not handle the stress of running the ER one day, but Bucky was well aware that outside of the walls of Shelbyville Hospital, he did not have a life. No girlfriend to go home to, no hobbies to kill time with and no friends from outside of work to hang out with. Work, sleep, repeat… life was starting to get boring for the poor twenty-eight year old man.

“You look miserable.” Rosie Bender, the ER nurse on call and Bucky’s former classmate, remarked cheekily at her friend before she slipped into the seat next to him.

He shot her a fake smile as he set down his patient file back onto the rack, leaning back in his chair and looked over at the nurse. “I’m just bored as fuck, Rosie. As you can see, the ER’s pretty quiet tonight. I just want something to do.”

“If you’re so bored, you can help me make some calls. I have to finalize the number of people who are coming to this thing by the end of the week. The catering people have been asking for numbers… and don’t even get me started on picking the menu.”

For the woman who had been head of the Prom Committee back in senior year, planning their ten year reunion was supposed to be a piece of cake. But Rosie was struggling with juggling all of the responsibilities that came with planning this reunion, being the only who seemed to care so much about being able to reunite with some old friends from what had been the best four years of her life. Why did no one else care about this as much as she did?

Truth be told, Bucky could care any less about this so-called ten year reunion. He was well aware that the one person he would be hoping to see would never show up. You hadn’t even come back to town when your mother had gotten sick, let alone to this stupid reunion that was meant to be a remainder of your senior year - the memory that he had ruined for you by being so inconsiderate towards your feelings for him.

He could never forgive himself for what he had done to you, and to think that he would never have the chance to apologize to you in person. He fucked up, and he pushed away the one friend he had. If he could just see you one last time and tell you how sorry he was, Bucky would give anything. But he knew that all hope was lost on that, at least until Becca Barnes had come rushing into the ER.

He had just assumed that she was only dropping off some dinner for him and Rosie, but instead she looked over at the two of them with beaming eyes. “You two are not going to believe who I ran into at the hardware store just now...”

“Is old man Nick renovating the Y/L/Ns’ house again because he’s bored?” Rosie perked up at her girlfriend, giggling softly as she stood from her chair to lean over the desk and peck her lips.

“No, but close…” The younger Barnes chirped before she turned to her brother. “Y/N’s back in town.”

Perhaps, all of his hope was not lost after all.

#kas4kwc #hope #aj writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #doctor au #doctor!Bucky

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justjessame · 3 years

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Diamonds Are A Boy’s Best Friend Chapter 50

Vera was preparing for her first class as the premier dance instructor in Miami and of course being at the Miramar Playa only added to the appeal. The Fourth had been a resounding success and Lauren had met a boy, to her brothers’ and father’s horror. I was starting to think that I’d be the size of a parade float by the time I was ready to deliver our baby, and the time seemed to tick by ever slower - the heat of Miami bearing down on me harder and harder as the days went on.

My fear wasn’t tempered by the appointments with the doctor, even with Ike by my side and Mimi coming along for support. He was adamant that I be sedated and unconscious during delivery and that our child be forcibly removed with forceps. I was horrified by the idea that I wouldn’t be awake to hear our baby’s first cry or breath, that I wouldn’t know what their sex was - or be able to hold them immediately. Ike wasn’t taking it very well either. He attempted to find a way to negotiate something more palpable for our family, but the hospital and doctor seemed unwilling to cooperate.

Mimi went on the hunt for other arrangements, hopeful that she could find something better for us but I worried that we’d run out of time - even as I felt like the time grew longer and longer and I grew heavier and heavier.

At some point, Ike had gently warned me, every pregnant woman gets to the point where intimacy becomes uncomfortable. I’d scoffed. A time when I didn’t WANT Isaac Evans? Was he insane? And yet, as the weeks and months ticked by and my body grew bigger with our child - I realized that while my internal hunger for him was alive and well, my physical hunger for him wasn’t as readily available. Those naps he had once pressed upon me were now something I willingly took on my own, no reminder necessary. And while I still adored having his heat and body against my own, the urge to be joined wasn’t quite as urgent.

A tiny part of me worried, I admit, that he might seek the warmth of another bed. Vera was a floor below us, after all. Meg Bannock was across the way. And I’d have to be completely blind to NOT see the other willing and beautiful women who turned their heads to watch my husband as he made his rounds as host of the hotel. The old adage played in my head, “once a cheat -”, but I would push it down, only to have those photos that Ben had thrust into my hands early into my pregnancy showing Ike holding the towel open for Meg coming rushing back into my head.

Late one night, so far into my pregnancy that I’d lost count, I woke in our bed and knew that I was alone. His side was cold and I felt ice and fear creep into my veins. Ben Diamond’s voice sneaked into our home and my head, reminding me that I was a Diamond and not good enough to be the Queen of the Miramar Playa. I shut my eyes and pushed it down, thinking of what to do.

Rolling over, I slipped out of our bed, putting my swollen feet into my slippers and grabbing my robe from the back of my vanity chair. Ignoring my reflection in the mirror, huge is huge after all, I left our room and saw that he wasn’t in the living room or dining room. He wouldn’t be in Lauren’s room, so I steadied myself and stepped into the hallway and thought he might have gone to the office.

I found him sitting on the main staircase watching them clean the entryway. A glass of something brown beside him, he was in his pajamas and a robe and looked like he had just needed a moment of peace. His eyes, like magnets, found me as I stepped off the elevators and he stood up, but I shook my head. Silly man. Waddling to him, he met me on the bottom step.

“Did I wake you?” His hands went to my bump, his lips to my forehead, cool from whatever was in his glass. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” I murmured, feeling much calmer now that he was in front of me. My hand went to my lower back, where a sharp pain was hitting me. “Ow.”

“Liz?” Ike looked down at me with all the concern I’d expect from an expectant father. “What is it?”

“A knot,” I brushed off his worry even as another stabbing pain hit me. “I must have rolled out of the bed wrong is all.” But I ruined that argument when the next pain struck and the warm fluid ran down my leg and puddled on the clean floor under my slipper.

“No, Liz,” Ike managed to sound calm even as he looked far less than, “you’re in labor.”

And then everything started moving far faster than I expected. He was calling for someone to call for a car, but I wondered if we shouldn’t be calling for an ambulance, while he was also asking one of the other workers to go wake up Mimi and also get Danny to stay with Lauren. While he marshalled the troops, his hand had fallen to my lower back where the knot was and he was slowly massaging it, his other hand cradling my bump.

“We should go upstairs so I can -” I was going to say change, but Ike shook his head, kissing my temple.

“They’re just going to put you in a hospital gown when we get there, sweetheart,” he told me, but I was thinking of the squish in my slipper, the wetness in my underwear, the all over gross feeling that I was experiencing. “Would you feel better if I had them put something down on the carseat?”

I shrugged, not particularly, but it was better than nothing I supposed. As Mimi, looking for all the world as if she’d been up and waiting for this moment, came to join us in the hotel lobby - taking over for Ike in the ordering of the troops, Ike returned to his natural state as my husband and partner. Holding onto me, soothing my fears, but I knew once we got to the hospital I’d be on my own, in darkness, unconscious and without any knowledge of what comes next.

What came next was a tense drive to the hospital with Mimi next to the driver - who looked as comfortable as any driver who was tasked with driving the owners of the premier resort of Miami while one was in labor as a very stern midwife sat next to him tersely shouting out orders - Ike’s hand was in mine and he was whispering assurances to me.

“I’ll be there, Liz, I promise.” I was scared, he knew it, that I’d be alone and our baby would be alone. “I’ll be right there waiting and I’ll make sure you and our baby are safe and -”

We arrived within minutes, or days - my nerves were frayed, the mess of my water - not a singular huge gush of fluid, but rather a series of warm gushes - the pains that kept coming and the unknown of what was waiting for me seems to make everything rush forward then slow down. It was maddening, and terrifying in heavy doses.

Ike was correct of course, I was rushed into the hospital and my night clothing was removed for a hospital gown. And as he held my hand, as he stood next to me, while Mimi tried one last press for my preference of a natural birth, it was overturned for the new, improved sedated birthing method. And I was given the sedative, and as Ike kissed me and promised me again that he’d be waiting for me when I woke up, when our child was safe and delivered, I closed my eyes and prayed.

Waking up after you’ve been somewhat forcefully sedated during your labor is entirely disorienting. I woke up and nothing felt right. I wasn’t lying flat, for one, and I wasn’t in my bed at home for another. Then there was the empty feeling - normally when I woke up, at least since the baby had started moving, they would remind me that they were there. Kicking me from the inside, moving around to let me know that Ike and I had been too active or not active enough the night before.

“Hey,” I turned my head and there he was. Isaac Evans, my husband. And in his arms? A bundle in a pink blanket. “She was waiting to meet you for hours, Liz.”

“Hours?” My eyes burned, thinking that our daughter had had to wait for me for that long, but he shushed me, and her as she started to fuss. “Is she -” But then he was sitting on the bed with me, and her tiny face was all I could see. Framed with dark curls, her tiny red face was perfect, as were her tiny fingers and toes - because I unwrapped her blanket and checked her all over. She was tiny, as Ike reminded me she took after her mother, and she was demanding - he abstained from mentioning if she took after anyone we knew. Feeding her by bottle, another new push that came from the advances of child bearing and medicine, formula, we were mesmerized by her.

“She’s amazing, Elizabeth Diamond Evans.” Ike whispered as she was drifting off after her meal, being burped, and a diaper change. “Just like her mother.”

“I think she takes after her father too,” his curls, I thought, and her eyes when they opened were as dark. “She has the same little pucker you do.” My finger traced her lips and I smiled as her mouth suckled naturally at the touch.

“Are we still sure about her name?” I nodded, watching her as she slept. “I think it suits her.”

“I do, too.” And I did. We chose a name that had no thread of our past. We’d discussed memorializing my mother or even Molly, but both of us agreed that our marriage, our family was a chance to have a fresh start, even as we combined and grew.

“She’ll have to grow into it,” he was taking her from me to put her back into the hospital’s idea of a bassinet. “I suppose you had to grow into yours, too.” He winked at me when he looked up from her tiny form, his hand was still cradling her small head.

“Still growing into it actually,” I smiled at him and his grin grew. “Miriam Sarah Evans sounds perfect for her, and I think she’ll grow into it just fine, Isaac.”

“Why, Elizabeth, are we using our full names now?” His smile was full enough to have his dimple peeking out and I was beaming back at him. “I love you, Liz, and our daughter, and our family.” He was at my side, our foreheads meeting and he was breathing deeply. “I hated not being there with you when she came into this world screaming.”

“Me too,” my eyes shut, I couldn’t do this again, not this way. “She’s a miracle, Ike, but -” His lips brushed my eyelids.

“I know, Liz, I know.”

#ike evans x ofc #magic city #alternate universe #mention of smut #mention of pregnancy #mention of child birth #Family Fluff

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charchar26 · 3 years

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Making Performance 2: Research and Process Blog

Introduction:

My name is Charlotte Baldry and I am a second year BA(Hons) Drama student at Bath Spa University. I have begun this blog in order to have a platform to display my research journey and creative process for a module called 'Making Performance 2'. This production based module builds on our pre-existing performance making skills, centred around the theme of 'Delight'. At the end of the semester, we will have a digital showcase via Zoom. The criterion for our pieces is that they have to be centred around the genre of documentary, auto-ethnography and verbatim performance. We were given the choice to either stage a play, performing an adaptation of a documentary podcast or devising our own play. Our group chose the option to devise our own piece, the following blog is about the creative process and external influences that we have taken inspiration from to form our piece. I hope you enjoy it! -Charlotte Baldry

Performance Overview:

I've always wanted to delve into the archives of sex trafficking as since there isn't heavy media coverage on the issue and it is often pushed under the rug, so when the option arose to discuss ideas for a devised piece, I suggested the idea to the group, and soon the ideas started flowing rapidly. Our main themes to cover in the performance consist of: Delight, Loss Of Identity, Corrupt Society, Rape, and Escapism. We had to hone in specifically on what themes we wanted to portray in the piece, otherwise it would've got very crowded and unclear for an audience member, so we decided to focus on loss of identity and the front people put on for people to see versus what is lying beneath the surface, and also explore how after years of experiencing the sheer trauma of being trafficked, you are only seen as a 'number' in a long list of statistics.

Summary of our group’s creative vision for the performance:

Naturally, our initial instinct was to shock the audience, due to the fact we were dealing with such visceral subject matter. After many rehearsal calls and experimenting we decided that was going down the obvious route, so we chose to delve deeper, and realised it would dramaturgically benefit us to entice the audience into the plot of the story and then shock them through the technique of strategically juxtaposing movement sequences with the emotional tone of the dialogue. For example, in the first section when Lea plays ‘Sophie’ she sounds cheery when talking about her going to Italy with Caz, and then him enticing her into ‘work on the streets’ (meaning prostitution). To show the front that the character of Sophie put on as her identity was lost.

Research Process

The style of our piece is verbatim theatre, so we started off the research process by sourcing multiple victims stories and filtering through their interviews to see what would fit dramaturgically in an attempt to raise awareness about sex trafficking. A lot of us also weren’t too clued up on the nature of sex trafficking, so we watched a few documentaries to become familiar with the topic and ensure that our piece was not offensive and had one hundred percent accuracy.

Description of and justification for key dramaturgical decisions in relation to the performance:

After having watched Sherlock in Homes, I thought that using the breakout rooms would be really effective since in live theatre you cannot do this, so we thought we would use the fact our performance was online to our advantage. We were going to have a live interactive sex trafficking scene with the audience where they were unaware that’s what they were actually participating, reflecting how the victims felt when they realised what they had been forced into, however, after discussing the logistics of doing this, we realised it wouldn’t be guaranteed to run smoothly, so we then chose to use pre-recorded clips of a catwalk, which later is revealed to be ‘adverts’ for the victims being trafficked, so the audience are enticed by the fun and sassy nature of it, to then suddenly being shocked as to what it actually was for.

Another key dramaturgical choice we made, was performing with sacks on our heads. We chose to do this because it represents our main theme of loss of identity since you cannot see our faces and there is a case number written at the top of the sack, this also gave clarity to our multi-role since we changed our names on zoom, to the case number that we were representing. The sacks also helped us portray the stimulus of delight, since at the end Nike and I take the sack off off Iona’s head, and I ask “What’s your name?” and she turns around as if she needs to put the sack back on, but instead in that moment, regains her identity and delight.

We chose to multi-role since when we each had our own characters, overlapping the stories became complicated, and we realised it wouldn’t be as meaningful to the audience, if they were overloaded with information, and by focussing on three, they could gain a connection to the characters.

Company and Artist influence:

The two main companies that influenced our performance style were Complicite and Frantic Assembly, since we decided we wanted to incorporate physical theatre in our piece.

After researching Complicite, it became apparent that they didn’t have a particular performance ‘style’ or ‘method’ and that ‘each piece is made according to the subject matter’ (Complicite – Essential Drama, 2021). As for Frantic Assembly, Scott Graham, the Cofounder and Artistic Director said “Performers are encouraged to take a moment back to its simplest truth and build from there.” I began pondering how to choreograph the chair duet by stripping the subject matter back to basics, the ‘simplest truth’, which was: violating, raping bidding, and dehumanisation. Narrowing it down to five words made it a clear decision, the chair duet would be showing the process of a victim being trafficked. We met up in ANG15 soon after and I started to get Iona, Tasha and Lea to experiment with different moves and once the ideas got flowing they contributed some too, based on what ‘felt right/fitting’ in the choreography, which is the basis of Complicite and Frantic Assembly’s method. This resulted in a video just over a minute long, of them telling the stories with their bodies, as opposed to voicing it, forcing a visceral reaction from the audience because subject matter like this, hits harder once there is an uncomfortable visual representation of it.

Online Performance Evaluation:

Tom Marshman’s Shakesqueer (27 Feb 2021)

Tom Marshman's Shakesqueer began with the computer screen on a trolley with wheels which meant he was able to 'drag' the audience into his closet (his personal space) which was symbolic to the idea of the LGBTQ+ community having to 'hide in the closest' from society, this functions as an example of digital performance because in live theatre one can attempt to 'create a personal space' but it isn't authentic, as opposed to being let into someone's home. He also used various media effects in the piece, pre recorded video clips with a mirroring effect on, and was able to split is screen in which we had a birds eye view of a drawing of Henry VIII, which would have been more difficult to achieve in theatre. Since our piece also has to be on Zoom, inspired by this piece, we will also use pre recorded media, and then do split screen physical movement while the monologues are read, so we have a good balance of dramaturgical techniques.

Sharp Teeth’s Sherlock in Homes (4 Mar 2021)

Sherlock in Homes was an incredibly eye-opening piece into what a digital performance can achieve in terms of audience interaction with one another. They gave us a summary of the case and then split us into breakout rooms, which would have been logistically more difficult if we were in a theatre space, we were given the task to collectively solve a murder and given the option to vote on polls. This gave a community feel to the audience and we wanted to do this in our piece, break the fourth wall and immerse them into the narrative, so we experimented with the idea of including a poll at the start of the play and then separate them into breakout rooms and take advantage of the digital platform, however practicalities meant this was not achievable.

Tobi Poster’s Chang Eng and Me (2021)

Tobi’s piece, Chang Eng and Me is about the first pair of conjoined twins and follows their journey though life and death. Tobi didn’t ever include a frame of a full face, which made the voiceovers even more captivating since when there wasn’t much visual stimulus at points, you really heard the words and they resonated with me a lot. Therefore in our piece, when reading our monologues we are reading our monologues with sacks on our heads, since it links with the themes of loss of identity and aids with multi-role, but also will make the text stick with the audience.

Evaluation

In our group I took on the role of the lead creative designer, so I decided to incorporate the shadow sequences, chair duet, and other physical movement scenes. I choreographed the shadow sequences collaboratively with ideas from the whole group, and had help from Lea in making the chair duet. I am really happy that I took on this role, because my learning style is very visual, so being able to bring the harrowing text to life via movement, really sparked up my ideas and made me feel very passionate about the piece.

As a group, I felt that we had a very good dynamic, we all became friends and therefore respected each other and created a comfortable work environment which made the process really enjoyable! We were very good at testing out ideas each member thought of and giving constructive feedback on whether or not it worked for our piece, however sometimes on the group calls we would go off on mild tangents on things that didn’t end up being used in the final production, so perhaps we could’ve had more time refining our performance if we hadn’t have spent so much time dwelling over ideas we had a feeling weren’t practically going to work, like the breakout rooms. One error I personally had was turning my camera and mic off with the sack on my head, they weren’t very transparent so after my monologue my hands fumbled in trying to find the buttons to stop my video and audio, so the end was not as slick and professional looking as I would’ve liked.

I am really happy we were able to perform together on campus through the computer screens, because the shadow work was really effective in activating the audiences emotions, a few of my peers informed me, and also we had the pre-show atmosphere as a group which enabled us to bounce off of one another's energy, creating a greater sense of achievement when the show had ended.

If I was to make this piece again, I would like to experiment with the advantages to it being performed online a little more, because we did play with camera angles, breath, proximity and breaking the fourth wall through passing objects through the screen, however I feel one thing we missed out was audience interaction, even through a poll to create more of a community feel to the piece.

One of the things that stands out to me that I will take away from our performance, is the power of juxtaposing scenes and emotions and how that will speak to an audience so much more than a piece that just shows the bad side of emotions, it takes them on a journey and has an element of surprise, meaning hopefully the message sticks with them after they have left the call, since it is so easy to watch a show, then as soon as you leave the theatre/call, leave the message behind.

In the future I will always weigh up the practicalities of my creative decisions straight away in order to save time and ensure the performance runs smoothly with no risk whatsoever. I will also carry the energy we created in the group of a friendly safe community space because it made the process easier and I will always remember how happy and secure I felt with them.

FlipGrid video material:

https://flipgrid.com/+2021mp2b4

https://flipgrid.com/+2021mp2b6/573404f4

https://flipgrid.com/+2021mp2b8

(Video explaining will be shared with Laura on google drive).

Bibliography

http://www.endslaverynow.org/blog/articles/shamere-mckenzie - Shamere McKenzie’s story.

https://blog.theexodusroad.com/human-trafficking-stats-stories-boys-are-sold-too - Ram’s story.

http://antislavery.ac.uk/items/show/2706 - Sophie’s story.

https://www.franticassembly.co.uk/the-frantic-method

http://essentialdrama.com/practitioners/complicite/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ieWs3hl3O4w Frantic Assembly show reel.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mqTCoM3zd0 Complicite show reel.

Tom Marshman’s Shakesqueer

Sharp teeth’s Sherlock in Homes

Tobi Poster’s Chang Eng and Me

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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“I’ve got my fuzzy socks on and I’m ready for summer”

You arrive in New York at 10 AM. What's the first thing you do? Find a nice, cute cafe to get a coffee and pastry from and chill at for a bit while sorting out my plans for the day. You go by your locker & your bf/gf is cheating on you. What comes to mind? I’m not in school anymore, but hypothetically I’m sure I would feel a lot of emotions--angry, hurt, upset, confused... like wtf?? And damn, right in front of everyone, too? That would be humiliating.

You have to take out the trash & clean your room. Your reaction? I’m 31 years old, you gotta do that kinda stuff when you’re adult. I don’t personally take out the trash because it would be really difficult for me to do in a wheelchair, but I have other stuff I have to do. I don’t particularly enjoy it, it just is what it is.

How many siblings do you have? I have two brothers.

Have you ever made fun of a homeless/ mentally challenged person? No. What a shitty thing to.

Make up a funny word with your first name in it. I don’t know.

Do you like campfires? Yes. I love the smell, it makes me think of fall. And just the coziness of it.

What's your favorite color to write with? Black.

Do you write poetry? No.

When's your 20th birthday? [Day & Month is fine. Year if you want.] I turned 20 back in July 2009.

Do you spit in public? Ew, no. I don’t spit at all except for when rinsing my mouth after brushing my teeth. It makes me gag seeing people spit. I also have to watch out for that when wheeling around outside because I would DIE if it got on my wheels and then me. akjkslfjldsfjkldsfjkl. I’m going to throw up just thinking about it.

Are you in high school/middle school/college? I’m done with school.

How many push ups can you do? Zero.

How would you react if your cat/dog died? I’ve been through that twice before with my doggos, it’s absolutely heartbreaking and devastating. My dogs are my family. It’s no different than losing any loved one; they’re a loved one, too. I had a really hard time when my dog, Brandie, passed. It was so sudden and unexpected.

Are you trustworthy? Yes.

“when I make it shine...”

Do you play video games often? I’ve been playing Animal Crossing just about everyday since earlier this year. Prior to that, I’ve played a few other games in their entirety since having my Nintendo Switch that I got over a year ago.

Do you like life, love, funny or boy quotes the best? I like # relatable quotes.

Have you ever been cheated on? No.

Have you ever had fruit pizza? No.

Would you like to learn karate? No.

Do you think it would have been cool to live in the 80s? Maybe.

Do you think we'll have robots in the future? They’re already a thing, they’re just not like easily, readily available to everyone like a Rosie from The Jetsons or something.

Was the sun out today? Not yet cause it’s 5:54AM and it’s still pitch black, but it will be.

Do you know what 143 stands for? “I love you.”

Does it get up to 100 degrees where you live? Ugh, yes. And higher. D:

When you play video games, do you like the sound on or off? I generally have it low or off.

When's the last time you saw fireworks? Fourth of July.

Do you like Dr. Pepper? Yeah.

Will you be seeing the new Transformer movie? I never saw any of them. Not my thing.

What made this week, one to never forget? Election 2020 will be talked about forever. This year in its entirety will be, but this election was a huge one.

“Tell me why you’re leaving me”

Did you wear shorts today? I don’t wear shorts.

Do you own a fur hat? No.

Do you still use the old time mail? I still receive mail, yes. I pretty much never send anything, though.

Have you ever played flag football? Yeah.

What color is your laptop? It’s silver.

Do you like Paris Hilton? I don’t have anything against her.

Did you smile at all today? Not so far, but it’s only 6AM.

Do you have an Xbox? My brother does and I’ve used it.

When you were little did you have a magic 8 ball? Yeah.

Have you ever ate grass or birdseed? Eww, no. I wasn’t the kid that stuck everything in their mouth or ate weird stuff.

Do you and your friends have secret codes? I don’t have any friends.

Have you ever seen the Lincoln Memorial? Not in person.

What's your profile picture on Facebook of? Me with my It/Pennywise mask on. It’s his mouth.

Do you own a yo-yo? No.

What celebrity is your fashion icon? I don’t have a fashion icon.

“How do you love someone without getting hurt?”

Do you hope you live to be the age 70 or older? I don’t want to think about dying.

Did you go to preschool? Yep.

Do you usually wear your hair up when it's hot out? Yeah. I wear my hair up all the time cause I don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything else with it.

Where were you when 9/11 happened? I was bedridden at home because I had spinal surgery a couple weeks prior.

Which would you rather play: guitar or drums? Guitar.

Have you ever gotten detention? No.

When you were little, did you used to watch Franklin? Yeah. Aww, he’s adorable.

What's the most exciting thing that's happened during your lifetime? 9/11 and this pandemic are definitely the most memorable, but I wouldn’t use the term “exciting” to describe them. A few of our blizzards, perhaps. <<< Yeah, definitely not exciting, but certainly major, life changing, go-down-in-history events.

How high can you count in a foreign language? I could go on and on in Spanish like I could English, but let’s be real I’d stop at 100 haha.

What's the best thing to do on a hot day? Stay indoors with the AC or go to the beach.

Would you like to go to Rome? Sure.

Do you use Febreeze? Sometimes. I prefer my Bath & Body Works room sprays, though.

Have you ever been to a rainforest? No.

How many days of school are left for you? I’m done with school.

How do you usually get tan? That only happens when I go to the beach. Sadly, I didn’t get to go this year.

“Last name ever, first name greatest”

Snickers or Twix? I like both.

Have you ever tried to sleep on an airplane? I tried, but couldn’t.

When you were little, did you like Dr. Suess books? Yes. Those are classics.

Are you more afraid of snakes or death? Both are scary to me, but death is just a little more serious...

Would you like to go to Australia? Sure.

Do you like Drake? Yeah, I like a lot of his songs.

What color are your headphones? Black.

Do you live in the past? Yes. :/

When it's spring, do you plant flowers? No. I don’t do any gardening.

Have you ever laughed for 10 minutes? I don’t think I ever have for that long.

Do you help your friends every time they need help? I tried to as much as I could.

Ever seen a Koala Bear up close? No.

Would you rather be blind or deaf? I’d obviously rather not be either one...

Once your done, are you done for good? Really depends on what I’m attempting to be done with.

Does it annoy you when girls wear a lot of make up? No? I don’t why I would care.

“Blow the world a kiss”

Do you live by a river? No.

Do you like being outside when it's storming? I like enjoying it from inside.

Ever thought about becoming a cop? No. A cop in a wheelchair... that’d be interesting.

Have you ever tried sushi? Ew, it’s disgusting.

When you were little, did you use to roll down hills? No.

Do you like store bought cakes or homemade ones better? I’d enjoy either one.

Do you think your a good kisser? No. Now I’m really out of practice.

Do you like long or short sleeves better? I like my sleeves to be like halfway from my elbow if that makes sense. Not a quarter sleeve, but a bit above that. Unless it’s cold, then I like long sleeves. I love when the sleeves are long enough to be able to pull down over my hands, but it’s hard to get the perfect fit when you have long arms like I do.

Do you like the name Jacob for a boy? Sure.

Could you live without electricity? Like, for how long? It would be a struggle, no denying that. I’ve never experienced going more than a few hours without it. I know people have to experience long periods without it sometimes or not have it at all, so I’m definitely fortunate.

Have you ever ate/drank something that was blue? Blue Gatorade, Pepsi Blue, the blue Mountain Dew, Kool-Aid, blue candies and cakes.

When is your last day of summer this year? I’m not in school, so no summer break anymore. However, summer is over and it has just recently started to feel like fall, so I’m quite happy about that.

Would you rather hang out with people who are loud or quiet? Quiet.

Have you ever had a pet turtle? No.

Do you want an iPad? Nah.

“You look like you want to party”

Are you double jointed? My thumbs are.

Have you ever done karaoke? Definitely not publicly, but at home.

What's your middle name? I’m not sharing that.

Do you wish on stars? No. I did when I was a kid.

Do you recycle? We recycle plastic bottles and cans.

Do you believe in love at first sight? No.

What's something you'll do when your older, but not now? I don’t know. Are you currently drinking anything? I’m finishing a Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink.

What color is your shirt? Black.

Have you ever played laser tag? Nope.

Does your best friend live within 5 minutes from you? My mom and I live together.

If you got dared to dye your hair purple, would you? No. I dye my hair red and I want to keep it that way. It would be a big, annoying process to do another color and then to go back if I wanted, so nah.

How many contacts do you have in your cell phone? Not many.

Do you own earmuffs? No. It doesn’t get cold enough for them here.

Nothing worse than being sunburnt, don’t you agree? I’ve experienced much worse, but they are awful.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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charliejrogers · 4 years

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First Cow (2020)

It’s impossible for me to write about First Cow without thinking that this movie is some sort of sublime cross-over between Joaquin Phoenix’s worst nightmare and joyous fantasy. Running at odds with his oddly emotional anti-milk Oscars acceptance speech back in February 2020, First Cow is a love letter to the power of milk in the realm of baking. The sweet, sweet udder juice provides the very backbone of a community’s happiness and two men’s livelihoods. But, where Phoenix’s nightmare turns to fantasy, the universe gets justice. No milk theft shall ever go unpunished! Move over, Herman’s Hermits; it’s not just “No Milk Today,” it’s no milk ever!

My kidding aside, I was pleasantly surprised by First Cow, though truthfully I’m not sure exactly what I expected besides knowing it was a movie set in nineteenth-century America. Acknowledging my own biases and knowing ahead of time that the director was a woman, I was surprised by how decidedly male this film was. There are really only three female characters of note throughout the whole film, and none of them have prominent speaking roles… in fact the only one who does speak English merely serves as a translator for men.

I wonder in what way the director, Kelly Reichardt, sees herself as fulfilling that role in making this film. That is, in choosing to deliberately make a movie about the nineteenth-century fur trappers in the harsh, male-dominated world of Oregon Territories, Reichardt wanted to highlight an aspect of the dominant “alpha” male society that is most certainly experienced by males but is rarely commented on, largely because it is considered female. I’m talking, of course, about love. I doubt there are viewers of this film who would disagree with my assessment that the two male protagonists shared a love for one another, but I’m sure many would categorize that love as merely representative of “deep friendship” or “platonic” (in the layman’s sense) at the most. While I’m not going to sit here and necessarily argue that the two characters shared an erotic love and I do not think that is the intent, I really do believe characterizing their relationship as merely “two great friends” would be received by the pair as a great insult. The two share the type of relationship seen among men that is rarely seen in the media save for war movies where “brotherhood” is a dominant theme. Outside of war, it’s a relationship that is largely reminiscent of the beautiful love seen between Midnight Cowboy’s Joe Buck and “Ratso” Rizzo. It’s the sort of sacrificial love that dominates the thoughts of Christian scholars. Still, it can be easily misinterpreted as erotic love. What I think Reichardt does beautifully is develop the love between the two carefully so you see it organically develop such that by the time we get to the final scene, we are unsurprised by one of the two character’s sacrificial acts of love.

The key scene, as I mentioned, comes at the end, but it’s noteworthy to mention that the pair’s ultimate fate is made plainly clear in the first few minutes of the movie. The movie starts (almost paradoxically) with an epilogue of sorts. We’re in the modern day, and a woman is exploring the forests of Oregon when her dog stumbles upon some bones that (with a little more digging) reveals two skeletons lying next to one another, like two lovers lying in bed. The best reason I can think of as to why Reichardt includes this epilogue before the rest of the film is because as soon as we the audience realize that two males are the most dominant couple in the film, we more readily anticipate and are more open to seeing love develop before our eyes.

So accordingly, after this brief pre-movie epilogue, the film jumps backwards in time to the nineteenth-century where we meet Otis “Cookie” Figowitz (John Magaro), the cook for a trapping company who is runs a little out-of-step with the rest of his crew. It is embodied in a visual motif that is repeated often throughout the film. We will have a shot of either of the two main characters, Cookie or his eventual companion King Lu (Orion Lee), doing something quiet in the foreground while characters perform some other more exciting activity in the background which in any other movie would take center stage due to the inherent spectacle. But it’s clear that Cookie is a more sensitive soul, he enjoys his time in the woods collecting mushrooms, and he does not have any interest in violence whatsoever. But that does not mean he isn’t without courage.

Early in the film, he comes across King Lu, a Chinese immigrant who is on the run after killing someone to avenge the killing of one of his good friends. Notably, when they first meet, King Lu is completely alone, hungry, and naked. While it isn’t addressed specifically, it is implicit in King’s and Cookie’s first meeting (and during other character’s subsequent interactions with King later in the film) but racially hostile undertones almost threaten to undermine King’s and Cookie’s initial friendship. Yet, like the story of the Good Samaritan, Cookie puts away his initial feelings of racial bias, and goes out of his way to clothe King with a blanket before allowing him to speak any further. Cookie grants King with a great deal of dignity, and goes one step further, offering to smuggle him among the various bags and supplies on his travels, knowing full well that if the rest of his crew find out that Cookie was hiding a “Chinaman murderer,” that he’d be in deep shit.

Cookie and King separate after this initial meeting, but upon reuniting later in the film, they never separate from one another until the very end. In what is the most puzzling choice in the film to me is Cookie’s initial decision to join King for a drink at King’s home. The two reunite in a trapping fort bar after a fight breaks out and the two are the only customers not drawn outside to enjoy the spectacle (the outsider/outcast motif returns). However, just before the start of the fight, one of the primary instigators of that fight requests for Cookie to watch over his infant whom he had brought to the bar. Therefore, when King asks Cookie to join in at his home, he is also asking him to abandon this helpless infant. The image of the baby swaddled in a basket recalls the previous imagery of King swaddled in the bags and supplies within which Cookie was smuggling him. And ultimately Cookie does abandon the baby for King, and in joining King for a drink at his home, never actually leaves. The two begin living together. So I’m not sure of the significance of the baby. Is it that Cookie had the choice between two “new lives,” one a literal new life of someone else and the other, in King, a chance at a new life for himself? Or is it simply just to serve as foreshadowing that in following King, Cookie is opening himself up to a life of indulgence where the concerns of others are less important than his own happiness?

As for the latter question and the plotline that develops around it, it really serves as a bitter critique of American capitalism and the American dream. While we love to tout the “by the bootstraps” myth, this movie serves as a simple morality play about how no matter what, pursuing the American dream means ripping somebody off for your own benefit. In this instance, it means Cookie and King nightly sneaking onto the property of the leader of the trapping fort and stealing milk from the only cow in the area in order to essentially have a monopoly on baked goods and make a pretty penny. Now, we can sit and debate about the morality of “owning” a cow, and whether Cookie and King are even doing anything immoral since it is preposterous to own an animal! Or I’m sure there are those (Joaquin Phoenix) who think Cookie and King are just as immoral for taking ANY milk from a cow as the man who owns the cow in the first place. This is not the time to discuss animal rights. But it is notable what the cow, too, has had to suffer in order allow for Cookie and Lee’s successes. She was initially transported to the trapping fort along with a mate and her calf, but both died en route. She spends her time tied to a tree and by the film’s end locked up within a small cage.

In sum, the love that Cookie so beautifully shared with King at film’s beginning does not seem so equally shared by the pair in regards to their relationship with others. And in their pursuit to become successful capitalists in a system rigged against them, they ultimately hurt some of those around them, most notably titular cow with whom Cookie has almost romantic relationship with, which in some ways makes his treating her as little more than a literal cash cow so egregious, even if he cares deeply for her.

Hence the morality play. I don’t have to spell it out for you what might happen if two people repeatedly rob the same person in the same way again and again and again. But even if we as the audience agree that the cards are stacked against Cookie and King from the start in their attempt to become independent, to achieve the American dream, the film never pretends that they are acting as virtuous agents. In the end, though, they get their redemption even as they receive punishment. King is given a chance to abandon Cookie outright who in an attempt to flee their pursuers has become badly injured. King realizes he can just take his riches and run. But he doesn’t. He decides to lie next to his dearly beloved companion. While he could not have predicted what would be the fatal consequences of this decision, he knows that sticking with Cookie in his current state will only cause him trouble. But that’s where the beautiful sacrificial love that defines this pair comes in. Whereas many will view this film and remember it as a cautionary tale about the American dream, I will forever remember the realistic love of brothers shared between these two wayward men.

***(1/4) (Three and one fourth stars out of four)

#first cow #john magaro #orion lee #kelly reichardt #milk #joaquin phoenix milk #joaquin phoenix #herman's hermits #no milk today

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sparklyjojos · 4 years

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THE SAIMON FAMILY CASE recaps [7/13]

In which we talk with the yakuza side of the family, learn about strange mountain hermits running around, and meet the Obligatory Kodansha Editor Character.

PART 5

Chinese legends speak of a man called Xu Fu. The ruler of Qin Dynasty ordered him to sail to the land to the east and find the elixir of immortality. After a long journey, Xu Fu arrived at a beautiful mountain as wondrous as Mount Sumeru that he called Fushizan, “the mountain of immortality”. One theory claims that it was the same place we know as Fuji-san.

Well, certainly it wasn’t Mt. Fuji he found… although the mountain indeed was located on the legendary Penglai, the Island of Immortals—Japan. On Mount Penglai lived its God, and looking from the top one could see the entire Country of Gods stretching down below...

When Ajiro and Kirigirisu are still up at 4 AM talking about the case, Soga Tensui makes yet another sudden entrance and shows them a written request:

The other Soga Tensui is with the rest of the family right now. Voices carry far, so please keep on talking as if I’m not here. If you want to discuss something with me, please write it down.

The three men talk in this way until dawn. Since the magician doesn’t say a word, Kirigirisu isn’t sure if they’re actually talking with Tensui or maybe with Gensui.

Ajiro has no qualms about telling Tensui he and his brother are among the most likely suspects, and the man doesn’t seem upset in the slightest.

We have already considered the possibility. Neither I nor the other Soga Tensui is the perpetrator. We may not have a solid alibi, and I realize that it’s a weak proof of innocence, but the idea to ask you for help came from both of us. We wouldn’t make the request, was one of us the culprit.

It appears Tensui has already made his own little investigation through Miku, who asked everyone in the family (with a promise not to blame them for the deaths) whether or not they swapped the curtains or took Yuuta to Tottori. Either no one from the family members present did that, or the culprit stays quiet. The investigation hit a dead end.

It seems the case is unsolvable as of now. I don’t think the investigation will be able to progress any further unless another incident happens on the 19th next month.

Soon after that Tensui leaves them, probably to hide before everyone else wakes up.

Once the family sits down to eat, Ajiro asks everyone to watch each other’s moves throughout the next month, just in case.

“You think one of us killed him?” booms the man looking like a mountain (Kirigirisu looks into his notes… right, Fujita Daisen. The non-yakuza son of the yakuza old man.) “If the culprit is really among us, then listen up! On the 19th next month, I’m gonna be patrolling Mount Daisen together with my buddies from the mountaineering club. If you’re gonna attack someone, better try me then! You can be sure I’m gonna turn the tables on you!”

“Calm down, no one’s going to attack you,” says the man more similar to a tall tree (notes, notes… ah, Fujita Hyousen. Daisen’s younger brother, the current yakuza boss. If Daisen seems like a furious animal in his demeanor, this guy’s more like a sharp blade).

“What, Hyousen, are you saying I’m not gonna be attacked next?”

“Even if I was the culprit, I wouldn’t want to target you.”

“You still dare say that? I’d say it’d be just like you to attack me!”

Everyone else looks on in awkward silence as the two brothers have a heated exchange.

“Whatever,” Hyousen says after they calm down a little. “If you do go into the mountains on 19th, better take care not to get into any accidents.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I’m not gonna die until I meet the Mountain God.”

“Do you seriously still believe all those tales…”

“I’m gonna see the Country of Gods from the mountain!” Daisen yells nonsensically.

On December 19th, Fujita Daisen (44) is found dead while patrolling Mount Daisen with his climbing club friends. It seems he slipped on the stairs of a mountain shelter and hit his head, eventually dying from blood loss.

Mount Daisen—probably the inspiration for the man’s name—has been an object of worship and awe since ancient times. One legend speaks of a proud god from Korea who wanted to prove one of his mountains was in fact even grander, so he loaded it onto a boat and took to Japan to compare sizes. As soon as he arrived close to Mount Daisen and realized how big it truly was, he left his own mountain next to it and left in a huff—that’s where the neighboring mountain Koreizan came from.

Mount Daisen can be dangerous to climb in winter, so patrols of experienced climbers are sent out to ensure safety on the snow-covered trails. One such patrol of ten men under Fujita Daisen’s lead embarked on duty on December 19th. They all took a brief rest in a small concrete hut serving as a shelter. Eventually Daisen asked everyone to leave the shelter and follow him, now constantly staying in front of the group, heading straight for the peak without looking back at them even once—something very unusual for him.

When they arrived at the peak, strangely-behaving Daisen was the first to enter the big lodge located there, but once everyone else walked in, they couldn’t find Daisen inside. Instead, someone else had been waiting for them: a corpulent thirty-something man with curly hair bringing to mind a reggae artist.

“I’m… Saimon Takayoshi,” he mumbled out, giving off the vibe of a troubled introvert. “I’m from… Daisen’s family. He asked me to… from that shelter to here… to switch places with him. Daisen should join us... any time now...”

Before the rest could fully shake off the surprise, they heard two other climbers call for them from outside, yelling that they had found someone dead at the shelter below. Everyone rushed back and discovered the corpse was Daisen, lying in a pool of blood by the short stairs outside.

According to Takayoshi, Daisen had anticipated that someone would try to attack him that day. Takayoshi thought it was probably just baseless paranoia, but agreed to serve as bait during the climb, so that Daisen could walk behind them, spot the assassin and catch him. Daisen planned to leave the hut only when the others were at a certain distance so they wouldn’t suspect anything. It seems that he fell from the stairs when trying to follow them.

Since Daisen’s father Kyuuzou was once called Saimon, this incident means a fourth member of the Saimon family in a row has died on 19th day of a month.

As the previous boss of Fujita-gumi, Fujita Kyuuzou inherited a splendid residence in Tsuwano, on the opposite side of town than Kami-Saimon. He lives there along with those who served him the longest. His son Hyousen and the rest live in another house, closer to the town’s center.

On December 21st, the day of Daisen’s wake, Ajiro and Kirigirisu head to Kyuuzou’s residence and talk with Takayoshi.

As we may remember, Takayoshi is one of the three sons of Akiko, the second victim. (The other two brothers are Taishi and Akio, who play the two clowns in the show.) Though in his thirties, Takayoshi is single, apparently never having even dated before… and no wonder, because his entire demeanor screams that he doesn’t like any contact with other people. Was that why he left the family?

“I wasn’t as talented as my brothers…” Takayoshi mumbles out an explanation. “I’m from the main family, so I would perform in shows since I was small… but no matter how much I trained, I had stage fright and always made mistakes. Akio was always nice to me, but… Taishi would beat me… others turned a cold shoulder…”

Young Takayoshi would often leave his house to find shelter and understanding somewhere else: in Fujita-gumi led by Kyuuzou, who treated the boy on par with his own children. Takayoshi became a full-fledged member after graduating middle school and moved to the Fujita residence. He quickly realized that the rest of the main family still acts cold towards him, though for much different reasons now. Afraid that his presence could bring Fujita-gumi trouble, he left Tsuwano in high school.

After many misadventures he was found passed out in the mountains and brought back to the main family’s house, where he once again became the object of pestering. Daisen and Hyousen helped him get out of there, and Kyuuzou’s recommendation allowed him to stay for three years with a friendly yakuza group Nagasaki-kai (written 長先会 rather than like the city’s name). During that time, Takayoshi managed to learn enough magic to later be able to travel around Japan making a living through street performances. Maybe it wasn’t an easy life, but still better than staying with the Saimons. He kept in touch with the Fujitas and knew about the mysterious deaths going on, but only decided to return a few days ago, to help Daisen.

“He didn’t tell me much, but… he said that the real target isn’t the Saimon family, but Fujita-gumi. And now he’s dead… I made a horrible mistake again…!”

Takayoshi may have been a prime suspect so far, but the conversation makes Ajiro and Kirigirisu doubt he’s involved in the case. On the day of Tamako’s death he was far away in Hokkaido, attempting to get some money by talking to a journalist about his experiences on the road. The journalist was called Uyama Hideo and worked for Kodansha.

[Uyama Hideo is an actual Kodansha editor. The author’s note at the end dedicates the book to Uyama and reveals that it was in part written as thanks for everything he did for the shinhonkaku / new mystery genre.]

Takayoshi and Uyama eventually moved to the Kanto area, where he got a call from the Fujitas about his mother Akiko’s death. He was still in Kanto when a month later he learned about Yuuta’s death and Daisen’s plan. And so, he decided to help and headed to Mount Daisen.

“Magicians don’t reveal their methods, but I guess I’m not a true magician anyway…” Takayoshi mumbles. “And it’s for the investigation, so I’ll tell you what we did... When a magician performs instant transportation, it’s practically always achieved using a double… Either a twin sibling, another really similar person, or at least someone with the same body shape hiding their face… but you need a good excuse for the last one. If you see a magician getting shot out of a cannon towards a suspended cage, he will be wearing a helmet saying it’s for safety… but it’s actually to hide his face… the double is already hidden at the destination, they just need to use blind spots effectively to switch…”

Kirigirisu realizes that he has already seen an “instant transportation” like that before: the torn business card that seemed to have teleported inside a mandarin orange.

Takayoshi explains that while not being that similar to Daisen, the right clothing and time to prepare made him able to serve as his double. Having experience with illusion helped.

“And what do you personally think about Daisen’s death?” Ajiro asks. “Was it an accident?”

“Daisen was… definitely murdered.”

After listening to Takayoshi, the detectives move rooms to have a conversation with Hyousen, Daisen’s brother and the current boss of Fujita-gumi.

Hyousen states that it’s Fujita-gumi that’s being targeted. Two other groups may be at fault. One is Nagasaki-kai; they may have been friendly once, but after their boss got assassinated a bit before Hyousen took over Fujita-gumi, the relations between them worsened, and who knows, maybe they’re just waiting for the right moment to take over Tsuwano. The other enemy group is Karyuu-kai (華隆会), also hungry for their turf. Hyousen claims that Fujita-gumi are the ones keeping Tsuwano peaceful and happy, and if they were to fall, the other groups would probably bring in a giant gang war.

Fujita-gumi is mostly a tekiya group selling shady goods at festivals and getting protection money from Tsuwano’s stores. Another source of income for them is “industrial enterprise”—by which Hyousen means Soga Tensui Troupe’s Circus of Magic.

The group fell into some financial difficulties lately. The yakuza structure have changed a lot throughout the years; many small groups have merged together into big ones, creating an oligopoly. The thing about Fujita-gumi’s tekiya business is that they can’t exactly go sell things in another group’s territory, but many groups allowed for an exception when their yashi (peddlers) were tagging along with the Circus of Magic. This new yakuza oligopoly means in practice that Fujita-gumi can’t go many different places anymore, and neither can the Circus. Even the recent show in Yamaguchi was only possible thanks to a brief change in what yakuza group controlled the turf at the moment. Right now the Circus is pretty much limited to touring between towns by the old mines, where the Tsukumos and Tousens still have many friends.

The cost of the magic show is nothing to sneeze at, what with all these outsiders it employs, and combined with territorial limitations it made the Circus face tough times. Daisen was able to help them a little financially as the owner of a yakiniku restaurant chain in Tottori, and Hyousen set up a bunch of pachinko parlors with help of (then friendly) Nagasaki-kai. Then the new boss of Nagasaki-kai announced severing their ties and all the pachinko parlors were slowly being taken back. Their only remaining parlor in Yamaguchi is receiving harassment, and even Daisen’s yakiniku restaurants have been under attack recently.

Considering all this, it wouldn’t be weird if one of the enemy groups started attacking Fujita-gumi indirectly by assassinating members of their family. Hyousen is fully convinced that the four dead Saimons were all murdered.

Ajiro and Kirigirisu can see the point, but something doesn’t add up. If Daisen believed another yakuza group was at fault, why would he stand up at a family gathering and challenge the culprit among them to target him? Why would he get so heated with Hyousen?

Hyousen does realize their conversation made him look suspect, so he explains it. Daisen got heated because he thought there was an enemy group’s spy in the family. It’s true that Daisen acted like he fully expected Hyousen to target him, but that probably stemmed from when they were young and fought constantly. When Hyousen said that even if he was the culprit, he wouldn’t want to attack Daisen, he meant that Daisen as his brother likely wouldn’t be targeted by the other groups, as they would fear Fujita-gumi’s revenge… and revenge they will get, as soon as Hyousen figures out who exactly is at fault for his brother’s death.

This leaves one question: what was that strange thing Daisen said about the Mountain God and the Land of Gods?

“The mountain is Mount Daisen, and the Land of Gods is Izumo stretching to the west. As for the Mountain God… I think it’s nothing more than idle gossip, but I’ll tell you. Our father claims that decades ago he met the Mountain God while climbing Mount Daisen. I never believed him, but Daisen did. The truth is, who my father met was not a god, but a hermit living in the mountains. I and my son Hyousai were even named after him. You see, volcanic Mount Daisen was once called the hikami (火神) mountain, hikami meaning “the god of fire”. That hermit was also called Hikami (氷神), although with the first kanji meaning “ice” rather than “fire”. And since he was a sennin (仙人), a mountain hermit, and was gifted with appropriate genius, sai (才), his full name was Hikami Sensai (氷神仙才). Only my father has ever met that man.”

So that’s where the names Hyousen (氷仙) and Hyousai (氷才) came from.

The two detectives move rooms again to speak with Fujita Kyuuzou, the previous boss of Fujita-gumi, elderly father of Daisen and Hyousen.

Immediately after entering the room, they notice a black Noh mask portraying a smiling old man—kokushikijou—displayed as decoration. Kyuuzou invites them to sit down with him on the tatami. As soon as they do, Kyuuzou suddenly yells out in a frightening manner, causing Kirigirisu to fall on his back in fear. Ajiro doesn’t even flinch.

“It’s been forty years since someone was able to withstand my kiai,” Kyuuzou says with a smile. “You truly are Soujin’s grandson.”

“Do you know my grandfather?”

“Know him? We’re sworn brothers, we drank from the same cup of sake! As his grandson, you too are like my family.” Kyuuzou’s eyes are kind as he looks at Ajiro.

“I… did not know about that. My apologies. If I could contact him, I would have brought him along...”

“Don’t worry. No one could ever shackle that man down, not even his grandson, not even I, his sworn brother. He’s not a yakuza, a man that would feel bound by family events; even if I was the one to die, I’m sure he wouldn’t attend my funeral.”

Ajiro’s own grandfather shared sake with a yakuza boss… Kirigirisu is shocked, but starts to understand why exactly Soujin gives others that dangerous mafia boss impression.

The detectives ask more questions about the case, but learn nothing new. Kyuuzouu does remember meeting Hikami Sensai decades ago, but the memory is fuzzy. He doesn’t have any proof that another group is pulling the strings behind the scenes, but Daisen was definitely murdered and they probably have a serial murder case in progress.

Kirigirisu’s life began anew in 1973, when he was a suspect in a murder case and had lost all his memories due to hitting his head. He could only vaguely remember suddenly falling off a cliff into the sea and trying to swim to the shore. It seemed like he had been solving a case as a private detective under the name Kirigirisu Tarou—or at least the few clues they found said so.

Nihon Tantei Club was founded a year later, in 1974. Though it hasn’t seen many cases so far, certainly their popularity is rising—well, a little. In this uncertain era, many businesses are facing financial difficulties. Kirigirisu wants to help Nihon Tantei Club as he can, not only because of his loyalty to both Ajiros, but because one of their investigations led to his first meeting with Kano.

But no matter how much they try, 1977 swiftly becomes 1978 without the Saimon Family Case coming anywhere near to being solved.

On January 18th, Ajiro and Kirigirsu visit Tsuwano once more in anticipation of another death the next day. The town is still full of snow, and the family members still have a grim look on their faces.

Daisetsu, late Daisen’s son, asks them to go with him and Takayoshi to the local bar at 10 PM so they can talk. When they meet there, an unknown man shows up to drink with them.

“This is…” Takayoshi mutters, “the journalist I told you about… Uyama…”

Uyama Hideo is a short man with curious eyes. He welcomes them with enthusiasm that makes it obvious he’s already somewhat drunk. His business card gives his first name as Hideomi (日出臣), apparently an older nickname of his.

“Oh…” Uyama sighs strangely. “You know, I have this astrologer friend, a man of many talents who wants to become a mystery novelist lately. I believe his name will become famous. Oh… he incidentally has the same first name as you, Mr. Ajiro. Shimada Souji.”

[The narration confirms that he means the future author of The Tokyo Zodiac Murders.]

The group sits down for a drink. It’s a pretty small place, as expected from a quiet town. The friendly owner is apparently one of Daisen’s friends from the mountaineering club. Looking around, the detectives notice a few posters of celebrities: the actor Matsuda Yuusaku, the karate master Ooyama Masutatsu, the pro-wrestler Rikidouzan, baseball stars Harimoto Isao and Kaneda Masaichi… Kirigirisu truly has no idea why all these different people have their faces plastered around the bar. Maybe the owner is a fan.

Daisetsu says that it’s not actually him that wanted to talk to the detectives, but Uyama.

“Oh… that’s right,” Uyama agrees with that strange sigh of his. “When Mr. Kirigirisu called me last month, I learned from him that Kira was staying with Fujita-gumi…”

“Kira?”

“That’s how… he reads my name…” Takayoshi explains [貴良 can be read as both Takayoshi and Kira]. “Even Daisetsu picked it up from him…”

“Oh… I wanted to talk about how those four deaths look like a murder case to me.”

“Exactly!” Daisetsu shouts. “At least my father’s death was murder! There’s no way a true man of the mountains would just slip and fall! I asked Uyama to help us investigate.”

“Oh… I’m going to look into the case more. Maybe interview the Saimons.” Uyama adds that Taishi didn’t want to let him bother anyone from his house, so they should split forces: Uyama will focus on Fujita-gumi, while Ajiro and Kirigirisu take care of the Saimons. “I’m not doing this for a scoop, but just to help Kira. Besides, I’m something of a mystery fan, so I’m interested in seeing a strange case myself…”

The group talks some more before parting ways. Takayoshi and Daisetsu (and very drunk Uyama carried on Daisetsu’s back) head to the Fujita residence, and the detectives return to Kami-Saimon for the night.

As midnight strikes and January 18th becomes 19th, the anticipation of things to come hangs heavily in the air.

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

#sparkly reads the saimon family case #maijo and jdc stuff #which yakuza game is this

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shapeshifting-wildcard · 4 years

Text

It was a lazy summer afternoon. Joker was helping out behind the counter today, but he had time to spare for a new friend. Especially one who was going to teach him a new skill he could use as a Phantom Thief. At first glance, learning how to divine through tarot cards didn't seem like a particularly useful skill. But the point was to hone his supernatural abilities through a known occult focus. Besides, Arisato was a more experienced Persona-user, and a fellow wildcard on top of it. She was bound to have some sort of useful experience to pass along to a young up-and-coming thief like him, right?

The deck she slid over to him looked rather pretty, he had to admit. The backs were a purple, starry field. In the center was a stylized sun, surrounded by a ring of heavily stylized animals. He could recognize a bird and a turtle, and the third looked vaguely like a dragon? Much more of a western-style dragon than an eastern one. Were they meant to represent the four heavenly beasts? Because the fourth one looked more like a fox than a tiger.

He picked up the deck and flipped it over, revealing the front of the cards. He thumbed through it, admiring the vibrant colors and the ethereal, watercolor-y feel of the images. Each image had this flow to it, drawing the eye exactly where it needed to go. Or, at least, that's how Joker felt.

A particular image caught his eye as he flipped through them. An individual in a pointed, birdlike mask, sporting black wings and a bestial lower half and carrying a sword. Crows circled around them, and a big white swan stood above, wings spread wide and its back facing the figure crouched on the ground.

"They're really pretty, aren't they?" the girl sitting at the counter commented. She leaned forward a bit to see which card he was lingering on, and let out a soft laugh. "Seven of Swords, huh? Well, the booklet does compare that one to a thief. So it'd make sense that you'd find it interesting."

She flashed him a cheeky grin as he huffed at her. The only reason you're getting away with that is because there's no one else around. He's supposed to be sneaky. It's hard to do that when everyone keeps outing your status as a Phantom Thief. He frowned as he kept flipping through the cards, mostly as an excuse to ignore her giggling. He stopped again on another card. Five of Pentacles. A figure sat hunched over in a corner, curled in on themself. Their face was hidden from view, their only companions a butterfly floating in front of them and a vaguely attentive lizard on another platform. The image gave off an uncomfortable feeling of loneliness, of isolation. Of losing something you can never truly get back.

He saw her lean forward to see what caught his attention this time. Before she could get a good look, he stacked the deck back together and slid it over to her, leaning over the counter and pulling up his phone. She couldn't speak sign, unfortunately, so he'd have to make due with note-passing.

"So, where do we start?" She glanced at the phone and smiled, picking up the deck and tapping it on the counter.

"Well, obviously, the first thing you do is shuffle all the cards." She slid the deck back towards him. "It's better if you have the person asking the question shuffle the cards. I guess it gives them a feel for the question-asker or something?"

Joker shrugged and picked up the deck again. He split the deck and tried to do that trick where you leaf the cards together. If you do it right, you should release the cards one at a time in turn, one from each side of the deck. Unfortunately for Joker, it did not turn out quite so neatly. It was more like a few chunks of cards came out at a time, smacking against the counter rather ungracefully. Arisato offered him a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, I'm still not the greatest at shuffling them, either. But it's okay, just give it a couple tries to make sure it's shuffled enough for you."

His other attempts were not much more successful, but at least he was fairly sure the cards were properly mixed up at this point. He slid the deck back over to her. "Now what?"

"Now, there's a lot of different kinds of spreads you can use, depending on the question and what you want to know. Let's start with a really, really simple one: the single-card spread. You ask a question, then draw a card and see what turns up. It can be any question! Like... 'will I do well on the next exam,' or 'what should I do with my time today,' or 'what should I get my friend for their birthday?'"

Joker hummed thoughtfully, leaning his elbows against the counter as he stared at the deck. Any question, huh? Well... there were a million serious questions he could ask. The exam question was certainly very tempting, but he had a feeling that would be an obvious answer. "Study hard or perish."

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as a cheeky question flitted across his mind. He picked up his phone and typed it in. "Will I find love?"

Arisato smiled and gave him a nod. "Okay, that works! Now, since this one is easy enough, why don't you draw the card and set it down right here?"

She pointed next to the deck, so Joker dutifully drew a card from the top of the deck and laid it out on the counter in front of him.

And blinked.

It was the Lovers.

Arisato took one look at the card and burst out laughing. "Well, if that isn't the most succinct 'yes' I've ever seen!"

Joker's face felt hot as he sank against the counter. He wasn't expecting such a straightforward response. Honestly he'd been expecting something random, like that five of pentacles. Arisato continued to giggle at his expense for a moment. Once she regained some composure, she reached over and gently tapped the card.

"To be fair, the Lovers card represents more than just, well, lovers," she explained. "It represents a union—of hearts, minds, passions, stuff like that—but it also represents a choice. Pursuing a career versus pursuing love, something old versus something new, excitement versus routine, stuff like that." She flipped the card around towards herself, pursing her lips as she studied it. "It won't be an easy choice. You'll question your values and what you hold most dear. But in the end, you'll come to an understanding—of yourself or the other person, or maybe both. But it'll be an understanding nonetheless."

Joker watched her for a moment, noticing the distant, thoughtful look in her eye. For a moment, he forgot she was only a year older than him. He reached for his bangs and twirled a lock of hair between his fingers, pondering what to say next.

"You sound like you have some experience."

He slid the phone closer to her, sneaking it into her view to catch her attention. She jumped and blinked at the screen, before letting out a self-conscious chuckle.

"You could say that," she said. She glanced back at the card for a moment, sighed, and turned it back to face him. "Ann's the Lovers for you, isn't she? So you've probably already seen a little of it for yourself."

Joker grunted and played with his bangs again. True, he had spent some time getting to know Ann. And spending time with her did seem to involve her having to make some big choices. But... maybe it's just how Ann was, but the choices she made never really seemed too difficult for her. The decision to strengthen her heart never seemed to give her much trouble outside of practical concerns. It didn't seem like any sort of ethical dilemma, or something that made her question everything she thought she knew.

Then again, Ann never struck him as the type for long-winded introspection. Her intuition always seemed to serve as her guide, leading seamlessly from one idea to the next even as she jumped around between them. It was interesting to watch her thought process sometimes.

"So, what did you think of that?" Arisato's question brought him out of his thoughts. He tilted his head and gave her a curious look. "Of the reading, I mean. It was a really basic reading, but does how it works make sense?"

Joker nodded, leaning against the counter again and pulling the phone back towards him. "It seems straightforward enough."

"The larger spreads get more complicated and require a bit more thinking. The one and three card spreads are the easiest and most straightforward. Though most answers probably aren't going to be as blatant as that!"

Joker chuckled. "I wasn't expecting it to be, in all honesty. At least it wasn't something ominous, like Death."

Arisato hummed thoughtfully. "Well, Death in that context might be a little ominous, but not because it means someone is fated to die or something." Joker gave her another curious look and she continued. "Death isn't about dying, it's about transitions and change. While it signifies the end of one thing, it also signifies the beginning of something else. So, in the context of your question..." She trailed off as she thought, idly tapping the deck. "It might mean whatever relationship you're currently in is going to end, but it'll open you up to a new one. Or, you'll only find love after something else in your life ends. Like, maybe you'll have to wait until the end of the year, or until you graduate high school."

Joker sighed dramatically. "But I hate waiting!"

Arisato laughed. "So I've noticed." She shot a meaningful glance towards his bandaged neck. "I guess it's a good thing you didn't end up with the Death card then, huh?"

"Lovers sounds much more hopeful, anyway," Joker typed.

"It does." She gathered up her cards and shuffled the Lovers card back into the deck. "You can keep playing around with them if you want."

Joker shook his head. "I should get back to work. A customer could come in any moment, you know."

"That's true. I won't bother you, then. If you want another lesson, though, just give me a shout!"

Joker nodded, typing a quick thank you before he busied himself with cleaning out the coffee machines. That one lesson did give him a lot to think about, at the very least.

At the back of his mind, a voice whispered the formation of a new bond: an alternate Death arcana. Oh, this should prove to be very interesting indeed.

#!drabbles #💔 Confidant: Death-Rebirth (glass-half-fxxl)#!long post

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bangtanbabeloveyourself · 5 years

Text

Angel

Genre: Angst/Supernatural

Warnings: Y/N technically drinks a supernatural drug without knowing.

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Y/N is an AOP, Angel on Probation, stuck on Earth until she can earn her way back to Heaven. While at a Halloween party, she meets the most beautiful man she had ever seen, only to find he’s not what he seemed. Oh, and Yoongi drops by too.

A/N: This fic was inspired by a topic generator that the lovely @billie-harper tagged me in. So enjoy!

Date Published: October 31st, 2019

You sighed as you twirled the miniature pitchfork between your fingers, eyes scanning over the room for any sort of entertainment. This was the fourth Halloween party you had been to this week and you were utterly bored. You thought the human realm was supposed to be full of temptation, but nothing here tempted you.

The alcohol wouldn’t affect your senses and what they were drinking was definitely not something you would drink for the flavor. Unfortunately, the drugs were the same. That left you with the most obvious choice: sex. It was something you had learned plenty about in your time on Earth. But the feeling that was described in those stories and videos was not something you had ever experienced personally, let alone towards a human.

You were starting to believe that it just wouldn’t be possible for you. That was before he caught your eye. He was kind of hard to miss. An adonis in all white adorning a faintly glowing halo crown. The irony was thick in the air tonight. You had to fight back the eye roll.

When you glanced back over to him, you caught him staring right back at you. You looked away immediately, a light blush spreading across your face. You couldn’t help the giddy feeling in your chest, knowing that the only being you found attractive had noticed you too. This is what those books talked about. It was so unusual. While lost in thought, someone bumped into you, your pitchfork flying out of your grasp.

Before you even attempted to stand, you saw a figure in white bending over and taking the pitchfork. When you looked up, you couldn’t fight intense warmth that filled your chest like wildfire when he smiled at you. What was happening to you?

“I think you dropped this.” He said over the music, handing it to you.

You nodded and accepted it. “How kind of you to return it.”

He smirked and pointed up to his halo. “Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

You giggled and nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Does that mean I get to stab you with it now?”

He raised an eyebrow before crossing his arms across his chest. “I suppose you could. But you don’t look like the type, Angel.”

You tapped his chest with the toy. “What makes you say that?”

He smirked. “You’ve got an innocent look about you, like an angel in disguise. Sporting little horns and some red lipstick might make you look like the naughty type, but I can tell you aren’t.”

Your jaw dropped before you gave his chest a little shove with the pitchfork, causing him to chuckle. “Ouch. Okay, okay. You’ve got a little attitude in you, huh?”

You smirked and pointed to the horns on your head. “Isn’t that the point?”

“Fair point.” He looked around the room for a moment before looking back to you. I’m getting kinda thirsty. Whatcha drinking?”

You shrugged. You really didn’t want to drink what they were serving, but you didn’t want to come off rude. This angel was definitely interesting. There was something different about him. You just couldn’t put your finger on it. “Uh, I’ll just take whatever you find.”

And with that, he was gone, giving you a few moments to try and compose yourself. Just when you were about to give up, this beautiful man shows up, giving you feelings you thought weren't possible. You weren't one to talk about fate, especially after everything, but this definitely felt like it.

After a couple of minutes, you saw him reappear, two red solo cups in his hands. He smiled at you as he reached you, handing you the cup. “Here! I managed to find some good stuff.”

“Thanks.” You looked down at your cup, scrunching your nose a bit at the smell. It smelled just as bad as all of the other drinks you found earlier. You watched as he took a big swig of his drink, before he looked expectantly at you. You took a deep breath before deciding to chug the whole drink in one go.

Your eyes shot open as soon as you swallowed. That elicited a laugh from him. “Pretty good, right? I’m pretty picky when it comes to drinking. I had a feeling you were too.”

You nodded. “I really am. But that was one of the best drinks I’ve ever had. I feel kind of bad for chugging it so quickly,” you said with a pout.

He chuckled before handing you his cup. “Here, you go ahead and drink this one too then. I’ll get refills.”

Before you could protest, he was already gone. You looked down at his cup before shrugging and downing that one too. You'd never found alcohol that tasted this good. It was one of the reasons you didn't care to drink. The taste was always horrid. But also, as a supernatural being, human alcohol wasn't supposed to affect you.

So why was this stuff making your body heat up? You could feel your cheeks blushing; a warmth spreading across your body as you waited for the angel to return. You were starting to feel anxious, so you stood, unable to keep still any longer. You found yourself swaying to the music that was blasting through the speakers. You weren't much for dancing, but it just felt so good.

Everything felt good. You closed your eyes as you let your body move to the music, rocking your hips back and forth to the beat. You could feel the bass blasting through the air and straight through to your core. It was odd but not an unpleasant sensation.

You were so absorbed into it, you didn’t even notice when the angel had returned. “You look like you’re finally starting to enjoy yourself, Angel.”

His voice caused you to open your eyes, your face turning another shade of red. “Oh, uh yeah. Sorry, just kind of got lost in thought I guess.”

He looked you over curiously before he handed you another cup. “Well, by all means, don’t stop on my account.” He took a sip of his drink. “But, it is much more fun to dance with a partner.”

You looked up at him before looking back to your cup. Was he asking to dance with you? Who cares! This is what you had been waiting for all week. It’s not like you could get into any more trouble while you were stuck on Earth. “Fuck it,” you say before downing the drink he had just got for you. You reach to grab his hand, tugging him towards the dance floor. You needed to keep going before you lost the courage to even do it.

He watched you curiously as you tugged him into the crowd of people. He wasn't expecting the drink to affect you so quickly. He took another sip when you finally chose a spot to claim on the floor. You bit your lip, looking anywhere but up at him. You could feel his eyes on you. You did drag him over here. You needed to make a move.

But before you could, he had moved behind you, handing you his cup. “Here, you look like you need this more than me.” He chuckled before moving his hands to your hips. “Let me help you.”

You gladly took the cup from him, taking a sip out of it as you felt his hands on you. You nearly gasped when his hands went just under the hem of your top. Everywhere his skin made contact with yours caused a tingling sensation over your skin. It wasn’t like anything you ever experienced before, but it was a feeling you never wanted to stop.

As you finished your drink, you could feel his chest against your back. He kept his hands near your hips, slowly grinding against you. As the music blared throughout the room, you felt as if your pulse was starting to match the bass. The more he grinded into you, the more your body tingled. These were sensations that your body had never experienced before. You weren’t about to stop them either.

Before you knew it, he had you following him towards the other end of the house. Somehow, you both managed to maneuver your way through the crowd without any issues. His lips never left your skin as you both ascended the stairs. You could barely make it up them, but the angel seemed to know his way perfectly. He helped to guide you to a door before his lips enveloped yours again. This time, his hands started to tug your shirt up and you reached for the doorknob, swinging the door open and both of you nearly tumbling in.

He laughed and held onto your waist as he shut the door behind him. You looked around to find yourself in a bedroom. He could see the uneasy look on your face.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear. "Don't worry, Angel. This is my room. No one will disturb us."

With that, you nodded and he helped guide you to his bed as his lips took yours over and over again. You felt it on the back of your legs and before you knew it, you were laying back on the bed. You looked up at the man in front of you, biting your lip. You never would have thought you would have gotten yourself in this situation.

He smirked at you before taking his shirt off. You couldn't stop your jaw from dropping, just a little. He looked like literal sin. His skin a gorgeous golden brown, the way his dark hair hung just over his eyes. He crawled over you on the bed until his body was above yours.

He nipped at your bottom lip. "Didn’t your mother teach you that staring isn’t very nice?" he teased.

You blushed as your hand wandered up to his chest, touching it softly. "Maybe I'm not very nice either," you say as you meet his molten gaze.

He smirked at you before enveloping your mouth with his, his hands running down your sides. His fingers played against the waistband of your shorts before you pushed his chest back, shaking your head.

You look up at him, biting your lip again. “Do you have a condom?” You knew you didn’t really need one. But, you were trying to keep up a facade as a normal young woman. They still worry about that, right?

A twitch of a smile appeared on his lips before he tried to clear his throat, stifling a laugh. “A condom? Uhh, yeah. Hold on,” he said before crawling off of you and walking over to the dresser next to the bed.

You watched as he walked, eyeing over his body. You licked your lips as you noticed the faint muscles on his back. But you noticed two large symmetrical scars on his shoulder blades. You gasped and he turned to face you, condom in hand and a grin spreading across his lips.

“Ahh, so you’ve finally noticed,” he said as he walked back over to the bed.

You shook your head and moved off of the bed, standing on the opposite side of him. “Who are you?”

“The name’s Taehyung. Nice of you to finally ask, doll.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “That’s not what I meant. You’re not human!”

He chuckled before tossing the condom onto his bed and crossing his arms. “No, honey, and neither are you. It’s nice of you to finally notice.”

You glared at him, trying to adjust your clothing. “What the hell are you doing here? You said this is your room. You’re living here? With the humans?”

He shrugged. “It makes it easier.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Makes what easier?”

The devilish grin that appeared on his lips damn near sent shivers down your spine. “The chaos,” he replied.

Before you could respond, a blinding light began to radiate out from the closet across from the bed. You groaned before you began to pace. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not now.”

Taehyung looked at you curiously, before looking back at the now dimming closet. The door of the closet slid open, a dark haired angel with a grimace on his face walked out. He looked around the room before his eyes landed on you. He clicked his tongue before shaking his head.

“Seriously, Y/N? You’ve been on Earth for less than a week and I already have to come get you?”

Taehyung looked between the male and you before he burst into laughter, nearly falling forward. “Are you kidding? You’re an Angel on Probation?”

You glared at him again before looking over to the new arrival. “Listen Yoongi. I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t know why you’re here.”

He rolled his eyes before looking over to Taehyung. “Oh you did, but it looks like I got here in time to stop you from doing something even worse.” He looked Taehyung over before looking back at you. “Really, Y/N? I thought you’d have better taste than to try and fuck a demon.” He clicked his tongue again. “He’s not even that cute.”

This seemed to irritate Taehyung and he immediately started to bite the inside of his cheek. “She’s right, we didn’t even do anything yet, so can you at least give me twenty minutes, then you can arrest her?”

You scoffed, Yoongi interrupting you before you could respond. “Twenty minutes is all you need? That’s pitiful.” He looked over to Y/N. “You should be grateful I got here when I did then. This sounds like a waste of time to me.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. “Listen, how about both of you stop this pissing contest. Now what are you really here for Yoongi? I haven’t broken probation yet.”

He sighed before turning to you. “You’re still going to lie when you know I’ve caught you?”

You shrugged. “I haven’t done anything.”

Yoongi looked you over once before looking back to Taehyung. “So the demon didn’t tell you what was in your drink then.”

Your jaw dropped before you looked over to Taehyung, who now was resting against the wall adjacent from Yoongi. He gave you an uneasy grin before running his hand through his hair.

You glared at Taehyung. “What the hell did you put in my drink?!”

“Ambrosia. Which you aren’t allowed to have on Earth, let alone on probation,” Yoongi said before eyeing the demon again. “Just to be expected from a demon, I suppose,” he stated dryly.

Taehyung put his hands up in defense. “Hey now! It’s not my fault. You’re the stupid one that can’t detect another supernatural being.”

Your face flushed before you went to lunge at him. Yoongi had managed to get in between you, grabbing you by your arms and holding you back. He shook his head, tutting at you. “Now, now, Y/N. Let’s not make this worse on yourself. You know if you try to fight him now your probation will get worse. He’s not worth it.” Yoongi turned to look at Taehyung. “You better get out of here before I can’t hold her back anymore.”

There was a certain glint in Taehyung’s eyes at Yoongi’s words. He looked you over again before shrugging. “Fine, I’ll go back to the party, even though you are in my room.” He walked over to the door, before turning to look at you again. “If you ever get bored, you know where to find me, Angel.” He then looked to Yoongi. “Nice seeing you again, Agust.” And with that, he left the room.

You had so many questions swirling around in your head. You didn’t even know where to begin. Yoongi finally let go of your arms, letting you sit down on the bed. He crossed his arms, looking down at you. “How you managed to find the only demon in town in beyond me. What really bothers me is the fact that you were actually going to sleep with him. Y/N, you would have been banned. Deemed fallen and unable to ever return. Is he worth that?”

You didn’t know. It didn’t feel wrong. Nothing felt wrong when you were with him. What does that mean? You sighed and rubbed your arm. Maybe it was because he was the first demon you had ever encountered. Maybe it was the ambrosia in your system. Or maybe you were supposed to be around him. You didn’t know, but you knew one thing. This wasn’t going to be the last time you seen him.

You suddenly sat up, looking up to Yoongi. “Wait a minute. He called you Agust. Do you know him?”

Yoongi’s face dropped for a split second, something anyone else would have missed. Not you, you’ve known him too long. You know all his ticks. “Uh. That’s not what we’re here to discuss.” He cleared his throat before walking back over to the closet. He tapped on the door three times before a light began emanating from it. “I’m here to take you back. He wants to speak with you.”

You gulped before standing up. Great, just what you needed. You were never going to be reinstated at this rate. Damn that demon.

#bts #bangtan #bangtanbabeloveyourself #v #taehyung #kim taehyung #suga #yoongi #min yoongi #devil #angel #halloween #irony

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theseadagiodays · 4 years

Text

May 4, 2020

This is Not a Performance

Irving H Bolano’s incredible repurposed newspaper fashion for the Met Gala Challenge on Twitter #HFMetGala2020

May the Fourth be With You as you reach the next chapter of this current sci-fi drama we seem to be living through. As the saying goes, reality can be stranger than fiction. But it just happens to be a many red-eyed virus rather than an evil, black-masked father that we’re fighting as we all walk around like Storm Troopers.

There are so many aspects of our lives, during Covid, which make it feel like we are actors in a make-believe story. First of all, we’ve all become movie stars, with our faces, homes, and even pets showcased on our own silver screens. As isolated as we are, our private lives now play out in the public sphere more than ever - no paparazzi required. For some, this invasion of privacy is unwelcomed. But for many people, it satisfies a secret longing to share themselves with a wider audience. After all, deep down, everyone wants to be seen and heard (I guess, me included, since I have this blog, after all). It’s why TikTok and YouTube and Facebook have become multi-billion dollar companies so quickly. And now, while this pandemic is a harsh daily reminder of the impermanence of all things, it makes sense that these digital missives are an attempt to seek immortality, in some strange way.

As someone whose work responds to human’s need to have a voice, I truly get why this is the case. And I love that this time has turned housewives into opera stars, and health care workers into hip hop dancers, and housepets into circus performers. But, at the same time, I have become very aware of the masks that we wear, even inside our homes, to portray a certain self to the world that may stray quite far from our authentic selves. The expression “dance like no one is watching” acknowledges the fact that we all tend to perform when we have an audience, and perhaps we’re only truly ourselves when we don’t. I understand that the way we “perform” ourselves online gives each of us a chance to reinvent the fictions we want our stories to have. So, while I surely take some guilty pleasure from intimate glimpses into strangers’ lives, I also do so with a certain skepticism about the veracity of what I’m seeing.

This became particularly true for me when I received a recent link from my friend and amazing singer/songwriter, Dominique Fricot. Capitalizing on this current trend of oversharing, he cleverly asked his fans to film their morning routines for the music video of his new song, Wake Up, by his duo, Flora Falls. Dom’s warm tenor voice blended with his partner’s breathy tones feel just like a lazy morning in bed. But I’ll leave it up to you to decide just how accurate these portrayals of people’s idyllic daytime rituals actually are.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=EbsqXou5FeY

May 5, 2020

Homeschool Heroes

About twenty years ago, I was invited to adjudicate a youth music competition in the Yukon. Travelling to one of the northernmost inhabited spots on earth, I imagined that my greatest surprise might have been a polar bear or Northern Lights sighting. But it turned out to be something entirely different. Among the 25,000 residents of the thriving metropolis of Whitehorse exists a treasure trove of talent. I could not believe the incredibly honed skills and nuanced expression with which these 11-18 year-olds played. Wondering why, I developed a theory that I now call SLoW: Sheltered Living Wonder. When long, dark days, cold climates or pandemics force people indoors, they tend to spend inordinate amounts of time on creative endeavors and skill development. In other words, they slow down and take time for wonder.

This theory has surely applied during these past few months of sheltering in place. One of the most remarkable examples has been the inventiveness that many of my friends have brought to their first attempts with homeschooling. So, I wanted to give a few shout outs to some of these Homeschool Heroes and the highly imaginative projects they’ve done with their kids.

Stunning Easter Eggs made from natural materials and dye, by my friend Jane Cox and her kids (Botany lesson)

Candy Covid virus, made by Amelia, my friend Jen Sanke’s daughter, as she learned about the virus’ proteins (Biology lesson)

But perhaps the prize for most complex homeschool project has to go to my architect friend, Bryn Davidson, who upon returning from Australia, in late March, had to fully quarantine for 2-weeks. So, with his 5-year old son Bei as helper, this Physics lesson allowed him to enjoy home delivery beer while in isolation. Just brilliant!

https://youtu.be/FF9-2dWoUtc

May 6, 2020

Living in livestream

So today, 5 million British Columbian’s awaited our “sentence” with baited breath, as word spread that our provincial prime minister would deliver the Re-Open BC plan at 3 pm. I have to admit, it felt a bit like when you were “grounded” as an adolescent and then your parents returned certain privileges to you. Of course, I’m well aware that our province has already been far more licentious than many places around the globe. We’ve been fortunate to maintain reasonably low numbers of infection (just over 2,000), with counts as low as 8 new cases per day, at this point. So, while our provincial parks closed, our beaches never did. While we were encouraged, within a reasonable range of home, to be active outdoors, we were not restricted to walks only within the 100 metre radius of our house, as my Israeli friends were. And while we could still shop at gardening and furniture stores, to make sheltering at home more enjoyable, New Zealanders had nothing but grocery stores and pharmacies open, for two months.

I have sensed the gratitude my fellow Vancouverites have felt about these privileges. But that does not mean that we aren’t still anxious to return to other aspects of living which we’ve missed. When lockdown began, ominously on the Ides of March (the 15th), I’d harboured a secret hope that certain restrictions might be lifted on my birthday (exactly two months later). And it turns out that Phase Two of the BC ReOpen plan will commence on May 19th, just 4 days later than I’d hoped. What I most look forward to experiencing again are small gatherings with friends, (we’ll soon be allowed to socialize in public with up to 10 people); meals inside certain restaurants and pubs (those that are able to function within WorkPlace BC’s safety regulations); visits to registered massage therapists; and hugs with select people, (”using one’s own ‘risk assessment’.”)

But in the long-range plan, the harsh reality for artists has been laid out, as Phase Four (which includes resuming large-venue concerts, conventions, and international travel) can not occur until either a vaccine has been developed, an effective treatment plan is widely available, or herd immunity is achieved. And this is not estimated to occur until mid-2021 or later. So, the prospects are still bleak for symphony orchestras, opera and dance companies, artists who perform in crowded bars, or musicians who travel for arena shows and festivals. This likely means that in order to satisfy audiences’ need to access live performance, and for artists to continue to share their creativity, livestream formats will still have to persist for some time. Therefore, I thought I’d share a few regular weekly livestream arts events here, both from Vancouver, LA & NY.

Canadian National Live Art Champion, Dmitri Sirenko, who we featured at our non-profit’s annual benefit on February 20th, 2020

Every Monday Night at 7 pm PST (Vancouver) Poetry Slam: https://www.facebook.com/Vancouverpoetryslam/

Every Thursday at 5 pm PST (LA): LIVE Art Battles - Watch painters do their magic in just 20 minutes: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWJoWGVwzGtk99nTOCib9vg

Every Thursday at 8 pm EST (NY): Spotlight on Plays - famous actors perform readings of theatre pieces, online: https://www.broadwaysbestshows.com/post/the-best-of-series/

May 7, 2020

Collateral Blessings

So many thoughtful writers are adding to the discourse, as we all strive to make meaning from what can feel like a senseliess time. I have so appreciated the abundance with which people are sharing these missives, right now. Every day, bursts of inspiration or flickers of insight come my way, thru texts, emails and Facebook. Like adventurers, traveling together thru the dark of night, we shine light on guideposts, anywhere we can find them, as we collectively quench each other’s thirst for wisdom.

One of the most profound writings I‘ve recently discovered came from a stranger’s blog. In The Examined Family, Courtney Martin, without ever diminishing the gravity of the havoc that this virus has wreaked, writes about some of the assets that have also come out of this time. New friendships with neighbors. A long-neglected puzzle completed with her kids. The time to draw and truly notice an artichoke in her back garden. My good friend Juan calls these collateral blessings. This reference to the accidental gifts that this cruel virus has given us, is a beautiful twist on “collateral damage”, a term coined to explain accidental friendly-fire deaths during the Gulf War. Commenting on the anticipatory nostalgia that she projects she will feel about certain things, once this time has passed, Courtney writes:

“I instantly feel overwhelmed at the prospect of schedules and stuff. I don’t want to go back to our former accumulation or frenetic pace. I don’t want to stop texting (my neighbor) my little triumphs. I don’t want to forget about the artichokes in the garden. I don’t ever want to forget this happened--the grief and the beauty of it. I’m not even sure that will be possible, but if it were, I wouldn’t want it. I don’t want to vote like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to eat like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to consume like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to schedule like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to mother or daughter or befriend or neighbor like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to sit inside this little life, noticing and appreciating and breathing, like it didn’t happen. There is unnecessary suffering all around me, and inside of me, too, but there is also necessary meaning. May we hold on to that.”

You can read her full entry here: https://courtney.substack.com/p/unnecessary-suffering-and-necessary?token=eyJ1c2VyX2lkIjo3OTg0NDcyLCJwb3N0X2lkIjozNzU1NDMsIl8iOiJCTnk2VyIsImlhdCI6MTU4NzA1MjgyMCwiZXhwIjoxNTg3MDU2NDIwLCJpc3MiOiJwdWItMjA5MjIiLCJzdWIiOiJwb3N0LXJlYWN0aW9uIn0.puI9NMne-783ypInpvTkJ96T237WcrTo2ItDhqlkMiY

May 8, 2020

Nostalgia

I’m rarely one prone to nostalgia. My childhood photo albums are in storage. I have no family heirlooms displayed in my home. My tendency is to revel in the present or dream about the future. But this pandemic has strangely turned me into a sentimental fool. Perhaps this return to simpler times, where we seldom shop, where we wander mostly by foot, or where we get to know our neighbors better, makes us long for the past in certain ways.

For me, I’ve honored this by resurrecting my daily teenage Twizzler habit - a candy I’ve rarely eaten since then, but that now feels so satisfying during my Netflix & Chill evenings (while watching films almost as old like Groundhog Day & Anchorman).

I’m also listening a lot to Old School Hip Hop, where the explative-free rhymes of the 90’s feel so strangely innocent. It’s refreshing to listen to these musicians spit verses that merely celebrate the joys of dance and rap, rather than ranting about gun violence and other societal ills. Run DMC It’s Tricky (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-O5IHVhWj0) and Beastie Boys Body Movin’ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvRBUw_Ls2o) happen to be personal favorites.

Last month, I was tickled by an old memory while planting a lilac bush in my backyard. I suddenly remembered a story about my college boyfriend, whom I hadn’t thought of in 30 years. Our relationship started a bit secretively, so as not to hurt his ex’s feelings. So, one May afternoon, we snuck away to a distant park that was hosting a Lilac Festival. Unfortunately, our ruse was quickly spoiled when a candid photo of our picnic under the purple blooms was plastered all over the front page of the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle the next morning.

Another sweet memory returned in culinary form. Every Tuesday, for 7 years, my mother selflessly drove me an hour from home and back, for my flute lesson. And to break up the long drive, we regularly stopped at Bickford’s Pancake House for my favorite adolescent treat: breakfast for dinner. Their specialty was the Dutch Baby Apple. And I finally made my first homemade attempt at this deceptively easy delicacy, last Tuesday.

This has also been a time to return to bedtime stories (some I’ve read to friends’ kids, and others for adults to hear.) The Great Realisation by British performance artist, Tom Foolery, has been making the social media rounds. But in case you missed this touching tale that looks back on this time as if the tale is being told in a not-so-distant future, it’s a wistful story about some aspects of modern life that we may never long for in the future:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nw5KQMXDiM4

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knybits · 5 years

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A Murder of One

Chapter:

Summary:

Time is the most beautiful dancer of all. So why does it weep?

Previous Chapter | Origin | Next Chapter

“Tanjirou! I’m back!” Akiko’s tiny arms weary at the fact that she’s still cranking the window down, standing on her seat to stick her head out of the window.

Her mother scolds her, but Akiko pays it no mind, waving her arms and shouting Tanjirou’s name over and over again with even more enthusiasm when his head pops out of the house.

His eyes light up and his cheeks flush a rosy red before he stumbles out of the house. Nezuko and Takeo follow after, shouting Akiko’s name as the Tamura’s new Model-T pulls up to the small house.

Akiko hops out of the car and into Tanjirou’s arms, where he swings her in circles. The two laugh in delight as Akiko buries her head into the crook of his neck, arms tightly wrapped around him.

“I’ve missed you!” Akiko’s voice sounds richer than before, and Tanjirou blushes again before squeezing her a bit tighter as a response.

“Oh my! Ray-san, Hiratsuka-san! I didn’t think you’d be back for the summer!” Rie wipes her hands on her apron and Ray ruffles Tanjirou’s head with a fond smile.

“Akiko isn’t used to being apart from Tanjirou for so long, so we thought it best to let her see him again before she has to go back to school.” Hiratsuka explains, her kimono pristine and new.

“Besides,” her hand finds it’s way to Tanjirou’s nose, tapping it lightly as Akiko giggles at her mother’s teasing nature. “His birthday is soon, is it not? One year closer to double digits!”

“Tanjirou, let your fiancée breath.” Tanjuro struggles to stand by the doorway and Rie helps to support him. Ray walks forward with his bag, ready to perform a physical, as the other kids rush to their father’s side.

Tanjirou gently pulls Akiko along to urge his father back to bed while Tanjuro waves everyone off with his usual kind smile. Akiko smiles despite her concern when Tanjuro’s big hand strokes Akiko’s head. She grasps his kimono and he understands to return to his futon for the sake of his future daughter-in-law.

Nezuko goes to brew some tea while both parents sit and talk. All the children rush outside to play as the day’s chores have been forgotten.

“Akiko, let’s go into the mountains!” Tanjirou pulls his fiancée along and she frowns lightly.

“But won’t there be bears?”

He stops in his place, turning to face her and holding both her hands before kissing her forehead. She blushes fiercely when he smiles, sparkling in the sunlight.

“Don’t worry! I’ll protect you, okay? You’re my fiancée after all!”

“Y-Yeah!”

“Ewww!! Tanjirou’s being mushy!!” Takeo points at the two, who both flush with embarrassment. All the kids laugh as Tanjirou presses Akiko’s face to his chest in an attempt to hide her away, yelling at his siblings to stop their teasing.

Akiko blankly stares out the car window, hands folded in her lap as the crow follows the car.

Those happy times have been ripped from her, and she can’t even respond to her parent’s concerned calls all throughout the car ride to the mountains.

The crow suddenly diverges from the car and Akiko blinks, her memories reeling to a stop and Tanjirou’s high pitched voice torn away from her.

“Why aren’t we going to the Kamado house.” Her head doesn’t move and her mother takes her daughter’s hand, but Akiko pulls away.

If it’s not Tanjirou’s hand, she won’t accept it.

“Your grandmother-”

“Driver. The mountains, please.”

The family driver glances at Ray with concern and Akiko furrows her brows in frustration, screaming in her head for the driver to just do as she ordered.

Ray lets out a slow sigh before nodding his head, and the car turns course with the crow by its side once again.

Akiko finds herself zoning out again, mindlessly counting the times the crow flaps its wings or when it opens its beak to cry. Without any warning, she finds herself free falling back into her memories.

Her hand is tightly wrapped around Tanjirou’s, throat choked up as Tanjirou gently wipes her tears away.

“I-” She hiccups, “I don’t wanna go back to Tokyo...”

Her few weeks back in the countryside is coming to a close, and she’s spending her last night at the Kamado house again.

Tanjirou smiles helplessly at her as the two sit on a stump outside the house. He can see her under the moonlight, her golden eyes a bit paler with the low lighting.

“I wanna stay with you! I don’t wanna go back to Tokyo! The people are tall and no one knows who I am! The classroom is filled with boys but they only wanna be my friend because of papa! Either that or they think I’m dumb! I’m just as smart as them!!” Akiko cries even louder, her face a mess and her handkerchief sloppy with snot.

“He-Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” She moves to shove him off the stump, but Tanjirou still laughs when he catches her hands, bringing her into his arms and turning her body so that she sits in front of him between his legs.

She’s still a few centimeters taller than him, but their heights don’t matter when they sit with each other.

“I think you’re smarter than them.” He smiles down at her, his green and black checkered haori wrapped around the both of them. Akiko puffs her cheeks out, her head poking out of the haori as Tanjirou rests his chin on top of her shoulder.

Akiko sniffles, “Really? You’re not lying?”

She can feel him shake his head, “You’re really smart!! Smarter than me!”

Akiko gasps, shifting in his arms to face him before clasping his cheeks and squishing them.

“No way! You’re smarter than me! You know how to cook!” He laughs dryly in response, slowly removing Akiko’s hands from his face as she turns back around to sit in between his legs.

“Isn’t that something you’re supposed to know how to do?”

Akiko shakes her head, “When we get married, you’ll be living with me! We have maids to cook for us, and we can sit like this the whole day!”

Tanjirou hums, wrapping his arms around her and moving to rest his chin on her shoulder again.

“But I’d like to eat some of my fiancée's cooking. Ahhh, I’d taste your love in every bite and feel all fuzzy when I come home from a hard day’s work!”

Akiko chokes a bit and Tanjirou laughs when she mutters out a bitter, “Guess I have to learn how to cook then….”

Akiko never did learn how to cook after that. She was taught arithmetics, she perfected her English, and she learned both Europe and Japan’s history. Most importantly, she learned science and medicine, most of it thanks to her father.

This was in hope that she become her village’s doctor.

Personally, she wanted to cure Tanjuro’s disease so that she could happily eat dinner at a large table with the whole family. A warm setting filled with endless chatter and teasing and good natured laughs that she never experienced back at the estate with her grandmother.

This doesn’t happen.

At the new age of 12, she received news of Tanjuro lying on his deathbed.

The Tamura family rushed to the house in the mountains for Ray to see if he can save Tanjuro’s life, but Akiko saw the crow perched on the roof of the house.

Tanjuro’s heart stopped beating the minute Ray placed his stethoscope over Tanjuro’s heart.

Akiko stayed at the Kamado house for a week, begging her parents to stay a little longer each day so that she could comfort Tanjirou.

“Akiko…” Her mother warns, a cross look on her face as Akiko cowers behind Tanjirou, her hands grasping Tanjirou’s sleeve.

“But kaa-san! I need to stay! Just a bit longer, please!” Akiko begs for the fourth day in a row. Tanjirou holds his fiancée close to him, heart aching at the thought of not seeing her again the next day like his father.

Ray and Hiratsuka look at Rie with a helpless expression, and Rie chuckles weakly, her figure frail. Her face is gaunt and her fingers are bonier than before, and she shakes whenever she takes a step, but she continues to smile for her children.

“I don’t mind. I rather she stay for a few more days, actually.” Rie says, and Akiko brightens at the thought. She lets go of Tanjirou’s haori to throw herself into the arms of Rie, who chuckles softly at Akiko’s affectionate behavior.

“Are you sure? We don’t want to be a bother in your time of mourning.” Hiratsuka murmurs, but watches as all the siblings hold on to a little piece of Akiko’s kimono.

Rie pats the heads of her children, her heart full of love when looking at their faces. She stares at Akiko with the same amount of love, tucking a lock of hair behind Akiko’s ear.

“Be a good girl, love. We’ll be back by the end of the week, alright?”

Akiko hesitantly nods her head and the married couple steps into the Model-T, driving down the mountain and back to the Tamura Estate in the village.

But by the end of the week, her studies lagged behind, and she was forced to return to Tokyo.

Tanjirou assured her that his heart had healed by the end of the week, but she could see the way that his eyes were still the least bit bloodshot, and the way his hands shook behind his back, hair messier than usual and the fact that he’s bitten his lips enough for them to have traces of dried blood, that he’s lying through his teeth.

What an awful image of her fiance she has stuck in her mind, and she hopes that he was a lot happier when he-

The crow suddenly lands on top of a roof, and Akiko comes to the realization that they’ve arrived.

“Love, I don’t think we should be here.” Ray puts his hand on his daughter’s shoulder, pulling her back from the door. Akiko stubbornly shrugs his hand off, eyes blinking away tears at the smell of rotten blood.

Her feet feel sluggish against the snow, and she looks to the nearby stump, almost catching sight of a faint Tanjirou, swinging his legs over the edge and waving at his beloved finance.

Akiko can see that the door is closed, but there’s no point. There are punched in holes and dried blood staining the wood.

Someone most likely propped the door back in its place to keep passersby from looking inside.

Ray steps out of the car, bag in hand, at which Akiko solemnly glances at.

“There’s no point.” Her voice is hollow, and Ray looks at her with an all knowing look.

“It’s not for them.” He says, standing by the car and allowing Akiko her own time.

She takes another step, stomach turning and sweat pouring down her face. It’s cold and her hair sticks to the back of her neck.

Her hands shake violently, gripping the hem of her kimono, grasping strands of hair, moving to clutch the cloth above her heart as it burns with pain.

Small puffs of air blow out, but they’re uneven and she even forgets to breathe a few times. There’s no rhythm and Akiko finds herself swallowing her saliva more often than usual, but oddly enough it still feels as dry as the winter air.

The beating of her own heart roars in her ears and Akiko’s eyes blink multiple times, begging to cast a different image than the one in front of her.

The sight of an empty house with no love or warmth.

No Nezuko to braid hairs with and talk about her brother till the moon’s high in the sky.

No Rie to hug as her own mother.

No Hanako to read books to.

No Takeo to tease and make blush.

No Shigure to carry through the mountains when playing games.

No Rokuta to help rock to sleep.

No Tanjirou to share a futon with.

No Tanjirou to cry with.

To celebrate with.

To hold hands with.

To love.

She opens the door and the two week’s worth of dread pours out of her mouth.

Akiko throws up.

---

“Urokodaki-san.”

The tengu masked trainer looks up from the hotpot he’s cooking, staring at his new disciple.

Nezuko is sleeping in the other room, and Tanjirou has finally finished writing in his diary. But there’s a folded up piece of paper in his hand. Urokodaki raises a brow at it, but it obviously goes unnoticed.

“If it’s not too much to ask…” Tanjirou bows his head, arms outstretched with the letter in hand for Urokodaki to take.

“I’d like to send this letter to my fiancée. She-She’s probably worried sick about me, and I want her to know that I’m still alive.”

Urokodaki doesn’t say anything before taking the paper in his hands, “You have a fiancée?”

Tanjirou flushes a deep red before meekly nodding his head and quickly rambling, “Sh-She’s studying in Tokyo. She should be 13 now, and we send each other letters all the time. We’re supposed to be wed when she comes back at 16. But, uh…”

Urokodaki nods his head in understanding, his soft smile going unnoticed once again and Tanjirou asks him to send it to the “Tamura Estate” for Akiko’s grandmother to forward to Akiko. That way, if Akiko’s grandmother knows, then the whole village will be told.

This is Tanjirou’s first mistake.

Tamura Higuchi blinks curiously at the crow that swoops in through her window. It hops over to her seiza sitting figure before sticking its leg out to display a tied up piece of paper. Carefully, Higuchi unties the letter from the crow before the crow bows its head and flies out the window.

“Whatever could this be-” She glares at the letter before reading it aloud to herself.

“Gracious grandmother-to-be. I hope this letter finds you in good health. This is Kamado Tanjirou, and I’ve sent a letter to you in hopes that you will tell Akiko as well as the rest of the village that I as well as my sister, Nezuko, are alive. I don’t wish to worry her, and hope you will take the time to forward this message to her. With respect, Kamado Tanjirou.”

Higuchi stares at the letter a minute longer, wrinkles deeply set and annoyance flaming deep within her.

To say she doesn’t like Tanjirou is an understatement.

“Lady Higuchi.” A servant calls, knocking on the shouji to capture the mistress of the estate’s attention.

“Your daughter’s family is here.”

“Hm. Kakera, take this letter and discard of it. Burn it, tear it up, bury it, whatever you must.” She hands her servant the letter before making her way to the front entrance

Her face is complacent, unbothered with the way she’s turned the tides of the future.

lmao yeah fuck higuchi ig

hope you guys liked this chapter!! its cute but also yeah fuck im sad haha.

i have akiko’s pin/mood board created so im excited to release this story on wattpad :,,) i made the cover of the story too!!

#bittle's murder of one #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #tanjiro #kamado tanjirou #tanjirou #tanjirou kamado

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gotboredwrote · 5 years

Text

Chapter 1: The Enticing Introduction of the American

[[The American Publicist // JRD]]

Pairing: John Richard Deacon x Reader Word Count: 1.8K (yeah kinda short, but they’ll get longer, I promise) Style: Multi-Chapter Warnings: Nothing yet, one mention of body shape, but in a completely positive way (it’s Roger, who are we kidding?) Summary: Y/N was just hired to become a co-manager and publicist for the band Queen. The boys had never travelled abroad, so meeting an American was . . . intriguing, to say the least. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: 1. Warnings will be per chapter, so as to know what to expect in each chapter (just seems easier that way). 2. Summary is for the entire story, so don’t expect that to change throughout the chapters. 3. Word count will be per chapter, so as to know just how much you can expect to get into (again, seems easier). 4. Don’t expect anything to move too fast in this story – I want to make this have some juicy (ew why did I choose that word) buildup. 5. I’m sorry if you aren’t American and you’re reading this, I hope that isn’t awkward for you!

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter // Masterpost

Queen had only been formed in the last year and a half, John Richard Deacon having joined exactly one year prior to today, hence why the boys, mainly Freddie, decided to throw a small affair for the shy man. It was not so much that they wanted to celebrate him, even though they did, but they also wanted to celebrate two huge accomplishments - getting a song played on the radio, and getting signed to a label! Things seemed to be looking up, and John began to realize that maybe this was not going to be a “side project” after all. As if that feeling had not kicked in enough, Miami crashed the party with some news.

“Boys, I just got off the horn with the label, and they feel that Queen is going to be huge. Too huge, in fact, for one person to manage alone. They’ve decided that it is critical that I have a partner in crime who can also double as a publicist of sorts. I brought said individual with me because I would like you all to meet and decide if this is going to work.”

Miami gestured to the door, and all the boys gaped. “Hi there! I’m Y/N, it is so great to finally meet you! I am so excited to watch you all work and make real names for yourselves!”

The boys listened intently to the individual’s words, collectively looked back at Miami, then back at the individual. Roger piped up first, followed quickly by Brian.

“You’re a girl?”

“And American?”

“I’m sorry, is that a real problem?” You had not worked with a British band before, and you have never experienced backlash like this from any other band. You actually could not tell if they were genuinely distressed or if there was a hint of mere confusion in their tones.

“Oh, no that’s not it,” Brian replied. “I think the way to put it is that we were not expecting to need a publicist, let alone a second manager. That is the reason for our response, well, um, be-besides the obvious.”

So, it was just confusion. That make you feel slightly better. After Brian’s response, you got a few minutes to really take all of them in because they had started chattering among themselves while Miami showed you around the studio. You would steal glances their way while Miami would discuss a small detail about a particular item hanging on the wall. Freddie Mercury was clearly the most flamboyant of the bunch, hand gestures accompanied every word that slipped past his lips. He also wore tight fitting clothes of extremely bright colors, and that is saying something considering this is the early seventies. He seemed like the kind of guy that people would either love or hate, and you find yourself falling into the prior without really having spoken any words to him. Seated to his left was the one that had spoken the most to you since you walked in – Brian May. You had heard some rumors about all of them, but the one thing about Brian that surprised you the most was that he went to school for astrophysics. He truly did not strike you as someone who would pick that as a major, but he definitely appeared smart, so at the same time, it did not surprise you. He also looked like he was attempting to reach hair-band-status hair, and you thought he was doing a mighty fine job. Across from the soon-to-be doctor was the band’s drummer, Roger Taylor. The rumors swirling around him were not your favorite things, but you decided to not pass judgement until you actually sat down and chatted with him. You had heard that he was a womanizer of sorts, and by his shaggy clothes and fluffed-out blonde hair, you could not help but assume something to that affect was true. Otherwise he actually seemed soft-spoken, and like he genuinely cared about his friends. Before you could get a look at the fourth member of the band, Miami escorted you by the arm out of the booth and into the control room, where there were a couple couches, a bunch of scattered pieces of sheet music, and a large, looming control panel that helped mix all recorded pieces of music. Miami said that you could sit right here for two minutes while he went and grabbed something for the both of you from the vending machine, and before you could even say thank you, he was out the door. Initially, you had completely forgotten to glance back over to the band to get your initial look at the fourth member and was just looking around the booth, since you would be spending more time here than in the booth with them. You got up to take a better look at the control panel, since you were genuinely curious if it was different than an American one. Eventually you had finished grazing over it, satisfied with finding out they are almost exactly the same. You were about to make your way back to the couch and you felt that weird sensation of someone drilling holes into you by staring seated deep in your core. You looked through the large, glass pane atop the control panel to find that the fourth member of the band was, in fact, staring at you, but not in the drilling-holes kind of way. It was almost nostalgic. The fourth one was the shy bassist whom they were partially celebrating this afternoon John Deacon. He was the quiet type around ninety-five percent of people, the other five percent were the members of Queen, their staff, and his family. He had been playing the bass for years, and it came as a bit of a shock when they were told they got a record deal and this would no longer be “just a hobby.” From what you were told, he was patient, friendly, kind, quiet, and basically, if you look up “good” in the dictionary, his face would appear right there. You made eye contact with the man, and his cheeks turned up and revealed the most adorable smile you had seen in your entire life. He had the sweetest crinkles to either side of his eyes that made his whole face light up, nearly as bright as the sun. It caught you by surprise that he was looking at you and not paying attention to his bandmates, and the smile was just icing on top of the cake. It was not intentional, but Miami swung the control room door open right at this moment unfolded, which made you visibly jump.

“Oh gosh, dear, I’m sorry. Not exactly sure what you were doing that made that scare you, but I am sorry.”

“It’s okay, no worries, Miami.” You were clutching your hand to your chest attempting to catch your breath and looked back through the panel. You saw John chuckling under his breath a little, and you shot him a small glare accompanied by a warm smile.

“Ms. Y/N, if you would so kindly follow me, I want to take you back into the booth with them, allow you to meet them one-on-one, and just briefly get to know each other.

Miami bent his arm as to allow you to take it, and he escorted you back into the booth. You and Miami made your entrance, and they boys concluded their little conversation. They all went to stand up as if they needed to address you in such a proper manner, and you simply started to laugh.

“Guys, please. You all know I’m not the queen, nor am I royalty in any version of the word. If we are gonna get to know each other, I would much rather just sit and talk. If that isn’t your style, I totally get it, but I don’t see a need for such formalities if we are going to be seeing a lot of each other.”

“You heard the lady, sit your bums down and let’s get down to business.” It seemed like Miami would be on your side throughout this whole endeavor, and honestly, a wingman did not sound like a terrible idea.

The boys resumed their positions in their little circle, Miami sat down next to Roger, and you plopped yourself between Miami and John, a little closer to John than Miami. “Unless anyone has anything critically important they would like to start this conversation with, I would like to properly introduce myself and give my oral resume.” You were given some small nods and smiles, John giving you the same one as before. Freddie piped in with an “Of course, darling, we are all ears!” and you felt like they were actually intrigued by you.

“Alright, so. As I mentioned before, my name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I have been working with record labels since I was sixteen years old. I have gotten lucky enough to work with a number of big, American rock bands, including The Who, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and The Rolling Stones, and have even helped a few of the bands I’ve worked with earn Grammy awards. I love what I do, and have the utmost confidence that I can help you guys achieve global status, assuming that you are willing to work with me.”

The boys were all looking at you and taking in each word you said with intense concentration. At first, they did not say anything to you. It was a little unnerving, honestly. They exchanged glances, and the smiles came back to their faces. Freddie then jumped up, grabbing your wrists in the process, and yanked you into a bone-crushing hug. “Of course we are, darling! Miami’s great, but it will be fabulous having two minds working together!”

“You’re also pretty fantastic to look at, different from British girls, so-”

“Roger! Be nice!” That was another thing about Brian – he did strike you as extremely respecting, as well, and it was coming out full force.

You all sat back down, and a number of things began to happen. Roger, Brian, and Freddie started a conversation amongst themselves, but Miami shushed them. He wanted to get started on the game plan for the new album, now that you had been officially accepted into the group. Freddie was mimicking Miami’s gestures, since Miami was a very serious person, which elicited a chuckle from both yourself and Roger, and an eye-roll from Brian. Meanwhile, John being the quiet soul he is, simply showed you that he accepted you by placing his hand right above your knee and lightly rubbing small circles there, accompanied by his signature smile. You would have to ask the boys if that was normal at some point.

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tinyavenuesailor · 5 years

Text

A Loveless Engagement

NOT Beta’d(but I really wouldn’t be against volunteers)

An arranged marriage? Jiang Cheng should have seen this coming. Ever since Hanguang-Jun had made that bold declaration of love and proposal to Wei Ying, his mother had made herself busy with setting him up with marriage interviews. So what if Wei Ying scored the most eligible young master and had a wedding that surpassed even Shijie ’s and a love with his now-husband that was envied by all.... To hell with all of it! If it wasn’t for the fact that his brother was so blissfully happy in the arms of Lan Wangji, he would have given him a solid punch to the stomach for the unfair luck he was blessed with. He either must have done a great act for the sake of humanity - which Jiang Cheng couldn’t even joke about, just the thought of it was ridiculously implausible - or been cursed in his past life to even out his luck.

The Yiling Patriarch sneezes somewhere in an alternate universe.

It didn’t matter in the end. His brother was married to a respectable cultivator, who would take care of him and treat him well. That thought didn’t sit so well with his mother since that respectable cultivator was the second Jade of the Gusu Lan Sect. You can’t have a servant of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect marrying higher than the master, that was what Jiang Cheng assumed her thoughts to be heading towards. Jiang Cheng has never been against arranged marriage. It was only a matter of time with his track record of successful unsuccessful marriage interviews. His mother already had a list of suitable partners no doubt but to his surprise, this wasn’t an arrangement made by his mother but his father. It was rare for Jiang Fengmian to involve himself in his son’s affairs, business or personal. This had piqued Jiang Cheng’s curiosity when he heard of the news the first time.

Having Nie Huaisang seated across from as his potential cultivation partner was just not the result he expected.

Jiang Cheng sat in silence as his parents with Nie Mingjue discussed various things going on and off topic about their engagement. So far, he understood that it was Nie Mingjue and his father who had worked out the engagement between the two. Nothing had been set in stone yet and there was still room to dissolve the entire thing and pretend like it never happened. Madam Yu was hoping for the latter, no doubt. Jiang Cheng had already overheard his mother’s disapproval on the arrangement during one of his parents' several arguments. The rumours of Nie Huaisang’s reputation has even managed to spread to the Lotus Pier, his mother wouldn’t take this lightly.

Nie Huaisang was seated next to his brother acting obedient and frail. He kept his head tucked down, a good countermeasure to avoid any glares he may get from his brother or Madam Yu. Jiang Cheng would manage to catch Nie Huaisang’s eyes every now and again but the contact would be broken after a second by Nie Huaisang. After the fourth or fifth time, Jiang Cheng’s patience was beginning to thin.

“Nie Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng tried to keep his tone even between clenched teeth. Nie Huaisang went still in his spot and the other guardians around them stopped their discussions at the young master’s interruption. “Would you like to show me around the garden?”

Nie Huaisang answered with a tight smile unable to avoid him anymore, “I never knew you had an interest in nature, Sandu Shengshou.”

“He doesn’t” Madam Yu answered for her son.

Jiang Fengmian gentle face didn’t waiver even under the rising tension. It was a risky move bringing three of the most prominent cultivators with the shortest tempers in the cultivation world together. He didn’t need to give Nie Mingjue any reason to feel guarded against them. “A tour around the garden is a great way to get to know each other.”

“B-Brother?” Nie Huaisang looked to his elder brother for rescue. He wouldn’t let his young, pure brother out of sight in this critical moment.

“You always loved to run away to the gardens; I’m sure you know the best spots to show Jiang Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue only spared a glance towards his younger brother. Jiang Cheng witnessed the price of Nie Huaisang’s days of escaping practice finally paid back to him in full.

Jiang Cheng strolled along the garden path with Nie Huaisang beside him following his pace. They were finally out of the watchful eye of his parents and Nie Mingjue; lifting off any restraints they were previously shackled under. Now that they were able to speak to speak without reservation they stayed in bitter silence. Jiang Cheng wished he had thought this through before he got them in this situation.

They used to be friends back on their days at Cloud Recesses. After Wei Wuxian left, they had time to grow closer. It was rare for them to be separated from Nie Huaisang that year. Jiang Cheng remembers enjoying his company but the big why evaded him. After they returned to their respective homes and lost contact, their friendship fizzled out. They would see each other at important functions, they were both from prominent sects it was inevitable but nothing more was said to each other than a simple greeting or small conversation. Jiang Cheng was always more concerned about learning his duties as the future Sect Leader. He was uninterested in idle conversations and preferred to shadow to father. He now regretted not attempting to take up a few conversations with Nie Huaisang when they crossed paths. He wouldn’t have to be busting his brain on what they spoke so vividly about those years ago. Jiang Cheng’s eyes drifted down towards Nie Huaisang. “So, what have you been up to lately?” Nie Huaisang stopped playing with the fan in his hand and looked up in query at Jiang Cheng. “What?” Jiang Cheng felt guarded with Nie Huaisang’s unreadable expression concentrated on him.

“You’ve never been one for small talk,” Nie Huaisang turned his attention back to his fan.

“We haven’t had a good talk in years, isn’t it natural to try and catch up?”

“Because we’re engaged?” Nie Huaisang stopping in his tracks. The Nie Huaisang he was acquainted will those years ago was shy and undeniably a coward. He flinched from a shout and squealed at the sight of a monster or corpse. Meeting those hazel eyes, he felt uneasy for the first time around Nie Huaisang. The other cultivator sighed and continued walking without him.

Jiang Cheng stood there in a daze. It was hard to shake the feeling of discomfort when he struggled to decipher the look in Nie Huaisang’s eyes. When he began to follow Nie Huaisang he travelled a small distance behind opting to let Nie Huaisang lead the way so he could watch his movements from behind.

Soon they came upon a lake and Nie Huaisang stopped at the shore. Jiang Cheng places himself beside the cultivator and waited. Waited for whatever the cultivator needed to say.

“I come out here to get away,” Nie Huaisang started. “It’s peaceful.” Nie Huaisang had yet to look at him even with Jiang Cheng’s full attention. Jiang Cheng had wondered why his father chose Nie Huaisang before. Taking his time to take in the present cultivator in front of him maybe he had underestimated his father. Nie Huaisang had a gentle and pure aura surrounding him. It was odd for someone from the Qinghe Nie sect, whose methods were known for their violence but not bad. If he hadn’t been born into the head family of a cultivation clan he would have been praised just for his looks and grace. Nie Huaisang beauty surpassed most of the young masters and mistresses of the cultivation world. If his cultivation was higher then, he would have a far better reputation. He remembers the days when people used to look down on his Shijie, calling her mediocre. Jiang Cheng wasn’t one to fuss too much about one’s cultivation’s level. Nie Huaisang’s physical features and cultivation level were exactly Jiang Cheng’s type. Was it coincidence or did his father have a better understanding of his preferences than he thought?

“I apologize for my behaviour.” Nie Huaisang sighed. Jiang Cheng snapped up and furrowed his eyebrows at the man. “My brother didn’t inform me that he was arranging my engagement to you. I honestly, wasn’t expecting anything of the sort since my brother still has his own love life to be concerned about.”

The cultivator released another heavy breath. Does Jiang Cheng comfort him at this moment? How would he even do that? “The news was sudden for me too.” That was the best he could have done with his the years he’s experienced with his Shijie.

Nie Huaisang did a dark chuckle under his breath, “Must have been to be engaged to the famous headshaker.” So he knew of the whispers about him. The three ‘I don’t know’s, the good-for-nothing. Considering how widespread the gossip was, it had to pass by Nie Huaisang’s ears once or twice. If the words bothered Nie Huaisang, he was a master at concealing it. Jiang Cheng could find no trace of anger or hurt lingering on his face. “Your mother doesn’t seem pleased with me either. Would even dare to say she’s against the whole arrangement.” He wasn’t wrong, but this was Madam Yu. Jiang Cheng contemplated explaining how very few occasions he’s seen his mother look pleased. Nie Huaisang released his third heavy sigh since they reached the lake. The question weighing on his mind grew stronger and stronger until it forcefully stumbled out of his mouth.

“Are you unhappy with this engagement?” Nie Huaisang snapped his head towards him with his eyes wide. Jiang Cheng hesitated only for a moment before continuing. “If you are then I will talk to my father to cancel it.” Jiang Cheng doesn’t care whether his future partner is arranged or chosen by him. He just doesn’t want to be a part of a tragic relationship, one where they could grow to hate each other. He can’t end up like his parents. Couldn’t stand to put himself through that torture.

Nie Huaisang lips curved up into an unknown smile, “Tell me Sandu Sengshou, have you ever thought to marry for love?”

The answer was already on his tongue but Jiang Cheng dared to reconsider. Maybe the expression on Nie Huaisang’s face made him want to meet the cultivator’s expectations but he couldn’t lie in the end and answered with a cold, “No, never.”

Nie Huaisand ducked his head and chuckled, “Neither, have I.”

Jiang Cheng took a sharp breath in, “Never?”

“Having a love like Hanguang-Jun and Wei Wuxian’s, the thought is indeed beautiful.” Jiang Cheng agreed. His brother was an idiot who acted like a disgusting fool, always wanting his husband to dote on him like a spoilt child. Despite how their affection made Jiang Cheng sick there was no denying that they loved each other completely. It was a love most envied and sought out for themselves. But for him, “But that kind of thing just isn’t for me.” Nie Huaisang shoulders sank. For a split second, Jiang Cheng pitied him. Pitied that a person like Nie Huaisang already shared the same thoughts as him. Had given up on finding their ‘true love’ before even trying. Lost hope that there was any such happiness waiting for him.

“You are a very beautiful man, Nie Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng tried to save the cultivator some face. “I’m sure quite a few have already fallen for you. Surely one can be satisfied with being loved.”

“You talk as if you don’t have a few cultivators chasing you.”

“I know you aren’t one to turn your ear away from prime gossip,” Jiang Cheng clenched his teeth.

“Sandu Shengshou is well-known for his skills,” Nie Huaisang smirked up at him, “and temper.” There was a strange feeling rising up in Jiang Cheng when he heard the soft sound of laughter from Nie Huaisang. It wasn’t similar to the annoyance he felt when he needed to hit Wei Wuxian, it tugged

“Rather than being loved, I’ll be satisfied with being content,” Nie Huaisang chewed his lips and flickered his eyes to meet Jiang Cheng’s. “I believe it possible with you.” The words almost missed Jiang Cheng’s ears under the soft voice.

“Oh.”

“So, Sandu Shengshou I’ll ask you, how do you feel about this engagement. Can you be content with me?”

“My name,” Jiang Cheng started after a period of silence. “You should call me by my given name from now on.”

Nie Huaisang flicked his fan open and hid his smile, “How bold of you, A-Cheng.” He said the words slowly savouring the taste on his tongue.

A light pink colour dusted Jiang Cheng’s cheeks. “There’s nothing bold from what’s naturally expected,” he paused, “Sang.”

“That is so,” Nie Huaisang closed his fan and tipped his head, a small teasing smile playing on his lips. The insides of Jiang Cheng twisted and gnawed at the graceful gesture. Such a simple movement shouldn’t look so beautiful. Nie Huaisang inched closer and wrapped his arm around Jiang Cheng’s so their bodies were squeezed together, “Please treat me well, A-Cheng, I’ll be bothering you from now on.”

So, this was the start of their loveless engagement.

Extra:

“Was this your plan?” Nie Mingjue asked Sect Leader of the Jiang Yunmeng Sect.

Jiang Fengmian shook his head and replied “I had no intention of forcing them if it was against their wishes. Jiang Cheng is acting completely on his own wishes.” Nie Mingjue shoulders relaxed and he looked back out into the garden. Unbeknownst to the two young cultivators below, their guardians have moved to a private room which overlooked the garden where they could observe them without being a hindrance. Nie Mingjue watched in curiosity as the famous short-tempered young master of the Jiang Sect allowed his younger brother to wrap his arms around him and listen patiently to whatever Nie Huaisang was running his mouth about.

“Are you sure he’s not doing this to impress you?” Madam Yu snapped at her husband. Nie Mingjue ignored the tension between them, it was no secret about the strain in the relationship between the two. He’ll rather not to get involved in whatever disagreement they were in the middle of.

“That is a possibility,” Jiang Fengmian kept his famous smile, “But my lady doesn’t A-Cheng like he’s enjoying himself?” Madam Yu pressed her lips into a thin line as her face darkened. It wasn’t obvious at a glance to those who were not familiar with Jiang Cheng but with enough observation, you could see that Jiang Cheng was indulging in the company of Nie Huaisang, he hung off each word the said and gave his own responses to entertain the other quite contradictory to his one or two sentences said at social gatherings.

“They do look good with each other,” Nie Mingjue mumbled to himself. He watched his little brother speak with a glint of life in his eyes that warmed his elder brother’s heart. “So when do you want to announce the engagement.”

#sangcheng #chengsang #nie huaisang #jiang cheng

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