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vampiresuns · 4 years ago

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Portrait Of The Lawyer As A Young Man

3k words. All of Julianus’ life has been about fulfilling social expectations. Not any more.

Note: This fic contains some time changes. They’re all separated but they’re not linear. This pieces art is the cover of the centennial edition of James Joyce’s ‘Portrait of the Artist As A Young Man’.

CW: Superficial discussions of unhealthy family dynamics.

The song for this piece is Expectations by Belle & Sebastian. Saoirse, Meredith and the Crew of The Jagged Ruby belongs to @apprenticealec.

Part 4 of Secrets Of An Ancient Moon series; you can read the rest of it here.

Dusk fell in the sky making the colours of the water change. Meredith whistled at Jules to get their attention, calling them aside. When they reached port again in four days, they’d reach Jules’ original destination, marking the end of their voyages in The Jagged Ruby. Julianus didn’t need Meredith to tell them this, they already knew: they had been counting the days obsessively, watching them slip by as they found a chance to speak to the Captain.

Meredith had found them first. It was now or never.

“Hopefully this,” Meredith said, raising the legal study Julianus had made for her a couple of months ago, “will help us with our Syd problem. I’m not going to pat you in the back, Sanlaurento, so just let me say this: you’ve got it in you, you’re a pain in my ass, I hope whoever opposes you in a court shit themselves. Now, leave.”

When Meredith looked back up, Jules was still there, looking at them with a frown and an intensity which the Captain had seen in them before, but never directed at them. Jules had been travelling with them for months. When they had manifested on the ship to become Meredith’s personal pest and unlikely legal advisor, the Quinquennial meeting was in the long term future still, they had time for it. Now, the meeting would happen in three months.

In all that time, Meredith had had time to watch them, even if they didn’t want to. She hated to admit it, but the asshole had guts. J.C. was clever, a fast learner, and seemed to know themselves well enough to anticipate their shortcomings. Analytical and strong-willed, in other circumstances they’d make an excellent addition to the crew.

They learnt the basics of sailing faster than Meredith had given them credit for, their basic knowledge of sword-fighting was getting honed by the week. They had never taken a shot against an actual person, but their aim had gotten notoriously better. Julianus got treats for the crew if you left them unsupervised, and somehow, always, found someone to help with legal advice, no matter were they were.

So yes, Meredith had seen that intensity before. She’d seen it when they put themselves between a vendor and a guard, suddenly carrying more presence and even a slight high-society touch to the way they conducted themselves. She’d seen it whenever they tried, again and again, to perfect something, never expecting to be handed anything. She’d seen it whenever they talked about Injustice, or the Sea Palace, or Freedom, or People.

It all shone through, even through the many flaws or annoyances Meredith saw in their character — anxious, irritable, high-horsed, mysterious for no damn reason.

“I said leave, why are you still here.”

“Meredith?”

The Captain raised an eyebrow. Sanlaurento never addressed her without an honorary.

“I didn’t remember us being friends— You smooch my quartermaster and…” Meredith stopped, a grimace overtaking her face. “This is about them, isn’t it. No, I’m not having a heart to heart about fucking Saoirse with you. Sanlaurento, I’m still your fucking Captain.”

“No, it’s not about Saoirse. It’s about me.”

“Right, because that’d make me care.”

J.C. frowned back at Meredith, trying to resist the urge to roll his eyes but failing to do so. “Even if they are a factor in my considerations. I’m well aware that if I talked to them, I could manage to see them anywhere and write to them even, given they write to Jacqui all the time.”

“If you’re going to talk anyway, at least do me the favour of going to the point, Sanlaurento.”

“Captain, I want to stay.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sky was clear in the island of Sirenia, a cool late winter evening as Sanlaurento walked around a patio in a black, formal attire, with a green jacket with golden buttons.

“You’ll do great, stop worrying. You already did great in your dissertation.”

“But my dissertation was just me talking about International affairs.”

“One last viva, and you’ll be a lawyer.”

Julianus exhaled. “You’re right, one last viva. This ends today.”

“Did someone Come with you?”

“No.”

Their friend snorted. “You didn’t tell anyone about today, didn’t you?”

Feigning disinterest so the conversation could end, they looked over some handwritten diagrams.

Julianus sighed. “Actually, this time I did.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Do I have to apply to the Sea Palace? I know I said I wanted to, but I don’t know any more.”

“Of course, Cleo,” their mother said, “it’s the best academic institution around, you might have a chance. You lose nothing by trying”

“They were weird though, you know? Off. Like, they give me a bad feeling.”

Their mother no longer sounded patient when she spoke: “You’re going to have to let go of turning down opportunities at every chance you don’t like everyone in front of you, or everyone in front of you doesn’t automatically think you’re brilliant. Besides, you insisted, and this is a matter about your education, your safety and your future. You’re applying.”

Julianus tensed, curling their toes inside their shoes, trying to ball them like they would their hands. They couldn’t ball them into fists right now, that’d give them away. If they gave themselves away, their mother’s reaction would be worse. “It’s not— that’s not—”

They exhaled, giving up. “You’re right, Mama.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In their 27 years, Julianus had been called a lot of things.

Weird by their classmates, dense by their parents. Unnecessarily complicated, dramatic, attention seeking, stupid. All of them also by their parents who said things in annoyance and in anger without measuring any reaction, nor waiting for any explanation. Stupid, perhaps, was the funniest.

They never called them Julianus, only ‘Cleo’, too, to the point their mother often said they made a mistake in choosing their first name.

Their Cleo was a lot of things but never what they themself said they were. ‘Intelligence’ was arrogance, ‘mistakes’ stupidity, or worse, something unforgivable; a lack of consideration for everyone around them and the marking of their mother in their failure to raise a child who wanted to do anything with her.

Too loud, too quiet, too stiff, too needy, too this, too that, too weird, too feminine, too masculine, too much.

Academic settings were different. One of the few places they had some control over themself. Yes, their classmates might’ve thought them closed off, weird and even a bit of a ��lunatic” when they were growing up, but their classmates also knew they were passionate about defending what they loved, including their friends. A willing ear to listen, offering food, advice and comfort to whomever asked, without thinking too much about it. Quick to rile up but never one to deny help. Their teachers and professors always knew they tried, that they wanted to learn, that they wanted to go to further, deeper horizons.

Their own self, learning and what they could do with that education was their constant ongoing project. Their poems and stories, a constant conversation with the world. Not self-centredness, not absent-mindedness.

Only twice they had been told in academic settings that they weren’t enough. One was in the Sea Palace. The scholars called them an histrionic, low-pedigree charming but insubstantial kid, with poorly honed magic and more enthusiasm than capacity. Others worked better, others could sit still for longer, others had more steady grades — not the valleys of those subjects which did not interest them, with good but unremarkable grading, versus the stellar records of those subjects which obsessed them needlessly. A nice attempt, but a definitive rejection.

The other was in that last Viva Voce in Firent. It hadn’t gone terribly, they had passed, but with meagre first level honours in comparison to their full honours approved dissertation. They were expecting to do worse, that was true. They weren’t expecting to have three examiners who did not let them finish a single explanation, one even laughing at their face for asking for a question to be clarified.

“If you keep this way, I doubt you will have it in you to be a good jurisconsult,” one of them had said.

Julianus had looked at them with icy, saccharine sweetness, eyes like daggers and making apologies they didn’t mean as they took their diploma. They left the room thinking what did they know? What did any of these people know about Julianus Cleopatra, who wasn’t born with the Surname Sanlaurento, but had chosen it anyway? Nothing. They knew nothing.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Julianus had never been in many places they belonged.

The night was clear as The Ruby made its way through the waters in the night.

“What about you?”

“Yeah, Jay, tell us a story. All you do is work, kid. Grab a glass! Cut yourself some slack from those books, lest your vision becomes worse.”

Julianus couldn’t see why not. With a bright smile on their face, they grabbed a glass of beer, before joining the Crew that was lounging around on the deck, enjoying the night.

“Does it have to be something I’ve heard, or does it have to be an original?”

“Right! Saoirse did say you wrote.”

Julianus blinked. “Saoirse mentioned me?”

An echo of warm laughter rang between the crew. Someone patted their back. “You’ve got it bad for the Quartermaster, don’t you? But tell us your story.”

"My story?” They snorted. “Oh, you don’t want to listen to that.”

After taking a drink, they let their own play on words slide, and chose a story to tell. “You know how they say that those who are the most impertinent have the best chance. Well, this cabin boy risked it all for a venture in a ship from the northern seas, whose flag it was under was at war with an Empire. The cabin boy, well, we’ll call them boy, had been searching for a place to fulfil their ambitions, and saw in this ship the right chance. The kind of person who wished to be remarkable, and do what’s right

“So one day, the ship runs into an enemy ship. Goes the Captain and says: ‘If we fight them, this ship might be sunk and we might not live the night’. So goes the cabin boy, who had developed a fondness for this ship; the fondness one does when one loves a place, but the place does not love one back, and yet one clings to the nostalgia of the good things. The cabin boy did not realise this yet, so the cabin boy goes and says: ‘If I time it right, I could sink it.’

“Though often trifled with silencing commands, the cabin boy was intelligent and daring so the cabin boy repeated: ‘If I time it right I could sink it. Was this not why I trained all these years as a cabin boy?’

“The Captain said: ‘No, you are just a cabin boy’, but at the insistence of our protagonist, the Captain said: ‘If you destroy that ship, I will give you silver and likewise gold, here in this very sea, and I will give you my only daughter for you to marry, if you make a renowned Captain out of me—’”

The story was not a happy one. It was a story of betrayal and disappointed hopes. It finished with the cabin boy, who making himself one with the night, went to sink the enemy ship, under the very noses of the unsuspecting crew. Yet, when the cabin boy came back and demanded their acknowledgement, the Captain denied them. Though the cabin boy had no interest in claiming the bounty, the Captain had not expected them to live, but fearing the Cabin Boy would take the credit and disrupt the order of things, the Captain slew them, and the sea took them in.

Someone gasped with indignation. “And no one aided the cabin boy?”

“No.”

“Did the Captain kill them then?”

“That’s for you to decide.”

“So the cabin boy didn’t die? Or did they?”

“In a way. It’s less about physical death, though it can be about it.”

“Isn’t this the Raleigh story?”

“Of the Golden Vanity?” Said Sanlaurento with a smirk. “Perhaps, but everyone tells it differently.

“If you don’t make it as a law person, I say you become a writer.”

Julianus laughed. “Why not both?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The last time Julianus Sanlaurento had seen their parents was when they sailed off to an apprenticeship. There had been no grand goodbyes, no heartfelt words. They had all fought around a week before, and J.C. was not yet forgiven. It was, perhaps, one of the biggest fights they had had with them, and the memory of it, along with the cold shoulder they were given would cling to them for some more time.

Nothing was worse than the hypocrisy, though. Or the pity. Too much to everyone around them, a brilliant child when they weren’t in the room.

Before they left, their father had pulled them aside to tell them they were brilliant, and that they were proud. Jules had wanted to say thank you, and just thank you, from the bottom of his heart, but they couldn’t, not after last week. Instead, they said:

“You always say that, until I’m brilliant in a way which neither of you like even if you still let me do it. You’ll hate this, but I don’t exist comfortably anywhere, and perhaps, I’ll never exist comfortably here.”

“That’s not our fault, Cleo.”

“It’s not about whose fault is it— it’s— you know what, Dad? Nevermind.”

Their only comfort was Maricus, whom they clung to at night when they were alone in their quarters, with only their things, their cat and an acceptance letter as they realised they were completely, and utterly alone. They were alone, that was true, but at least, they were themself and they had had enough.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Not wanting to try the Captain further after she dismissed them, Julianus retreated to the crew’s quarters. They sat against the wall nearest to their bed — if one could call a hammock a bed — picked up their notebook and began writing. They wanted to be left alone, so they buried their nose in their writing.

They didn’t expect seeing Saoirse when they looked up, leaning against a column as they watched them write.

“Raleigh again?”

“No, I’m leaving the fictional man rest for a minute or two.”

“Meredith told me you were staying.” At this, Jules stopped writing. “Said you were on permanent crew member probation until you defended your case and your position in Ethari. Then, if she didn’t change her mind, she’ll make you try as a permanent member of the crew, if you also haven’t changed your mind about it.”

Saoirse snorted. “If I was told I’d meet a human like you a year ago, I would’ve thought the person telling me such was drunk.”

Julianus raised an eyebrow at them, wanting to ask what that was supposed to mean, but Saoirse’s eyes were full of tenderness when they met them.

“Meredith also told me you asked. Did you because of me?”

“No,” Jules said as they closed their notebook, standing up to stretch their legs. “I don’t want to part from you, that’s true, I care… a lot about you, and I hope you care about me just the same. I don’t want to stop seeing you everyday, and I don’t want to stop kissing you everyday, and I don’t want to stop learning from and about you. I haven’t mastered the language yet, and there’s more of the Code to study, there’s so many things I haven’t done yet, but it’s not about you, it’s about me.”

Saoirse watched them as silence fell between them, Julianus’ dark eyes looking everywhere but at them. When they did look back at Saoirse's ice-blue ones, their eyes were clouded with tears. “This isn’t quite it, either, but do you know what’s like feeling you’re unwanted everywhere? Because who you are has a big red ‘wrong’ sign attached to it?

“I just don’t want to go. I see, I can see a future here, and I think I’ve been in enough places where I have been unwanted, or wanted wrong, for me to deserve to have a shot at the future I say I want to have. Not the future I was supposed to have by whomever thinks knows me better than I know me.”

Out of all the reactions Saoirse could’ve had, J.C. wasn’t expecting them to stop leaning on their column, and open their arms for them.

Their smile was just as tender as their eyes. “I know you enough to know that if I ask if you want a hug, you’ll say no, but in about five seconds you’ll change your mind.”

Jules’ half laughed, half sobbed. Unable to fight Saoirse’s logic they closed the distance between them, wrapping their arms around their waist, as they felt Saoirse’s arms sling under their arms to hold them close and safe between their arms. Like they were protecting them — from what? Neither of them knew; neither of them asked.

Instead, Jules was happy to bury their face against Saoirse’s chest, taking in the smell of them mixed with linen of their shirt. Saoirse’s cheek rested against the top of their head, only moving to plant a kiss there.

“Julie?” Saoirse said. “I know more about cages than you’d think.”

“I never said anything of—”

“You don’t have to say it for me to know. Before I was what I am now, I was in one, so to speak. Trapped, perhaps, is a better word. Cages all look different, but they all feel the same. There are no cages here, you deserve better than that.”

“I know, I know that now.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Only if you keep calling me ‘Julie’.”

“Were you never told not to make deals with strange Gods?”

As they spoke, Saoirse brushed their lips against theirs, themselves an offering for Julianus to chase. Chase them they did, pressing their lips against Saoirse’s over and over again.

“You’re not a strange God. Or rather, you’re not a stranger to me… You know? You don’t have to tell me what you were before, but I will say this: whomever decided to trap you, is or was a fucking coward.”

Saoirse laughed, the sound ringing around the room on its own accord. Soon enough, Jules found themself laughing too.

No, of course they didn’t want to go.

#the arcana #the arcana oc #my writing #secrets of an ancient moon series #saoirse #jc sanlaurento #the janiverse #joirse #meredith #meredith's crew #yeah raleigh was real but we live in a world were the brits don't exist #dani's ocs

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sherlollydramoine · 5 years ago

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Which Malek Twin is Better in Bed: An Experiment; Part Two

@theultraviolencefan

Word Count: 9500. This is a big boy.

This is Sami’s part but there may be some bonus Rami. I did the best I could. Sorry this took so long but I had some struggles. Special shout-out to @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe, @r-ahh-mi, and @breadnbutternips for your input, guidance, suggestions, and overall support. I swear I wouldn’t keep writing if it wasn’t for you wonderful ladies. <3 I love you all.

Warnings: Protected/Unprotected Sex, Slightly dom-ish behavior, alcohol consumption referenced, some fluff, some self-indulgent random sort of Pride & Prejudice references.

Part One ( H E R E )

You’d been in a fantastic mood since Tuesday night and the people you were closest too had definitely taken notice. Currently you didn’t possess the ability to stop laughing, singing and dancing around playfully and you could thank Rami for that. The entire experience with him had rocked your world in ways that you could never imagine. According to some of your other friends you’d been wound a little tight as of late, and the intensely amazing orgasms Rami had given you had left you a lot more relaxed.

When the boys both texted you and asked if you wanted to meet them for brunch you had happily accepted. You joked that it had been a stroke of luck that you all wanted to enjoy the weather on the outdoor patio and there were no other patrons choosing to do the same.

Your jovial mood was more than obvious at your brunch meet up with twins that Friday because the state you were in had been a topic of conversation on and off for the last half hour. The only damper on the mood had been that Rami was acting a little out of character today. He was still your happy friend; smiling, laughing, and cracking his smart ass jokes but whenever tomorrow came up, he withdrew a little bit his smile definitely turning into a slight frown.

You were determined to not allow his odd behavior to dictate your mood at this point so you’d just continue to smile and laugh at the witty banter between the two men. It was an ongoing inside joke that the two of them should have a stand-up routine. Whenever they were together around you, you were always in stitches at their antics. The fame had not changed Rami in that way even though he is a lot more guarded now than he used to be.

“Damn bro what did you do to her?” Sami jokes, taking another bite of his sandwich. .

“Nothing out of the ordinary, other than prove that I can fuck her better than you can," Rami says wearing a proudly smug look on his face.

“I guess I’m going to have to up my game for tomorrow then,” Sami shoots back and Rami frowns so slightly you almost missed it.

He must have noticed you silently observing him because he reaches down grabbing a fry from his plate, popping into his mouth and shooting you a wink.You sat back and watched him chew, then swallow, before his gorgeous eyes found yours as he began inquiring about how you were feeling about tomorrow.

"So, YN, are you looking forward to your date with my brother tomorrow?" Rami asks. You felt as if the question was a little odd and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why the hell he’d want to know this information.

"Of course I am Ram. Just as excited as I was before our date. Why? Am I not supposed to be?"

“I don’t know YN. You aren’t feeling any kind of apprehension at all? Nervousness?”

“Ram, I. I don’t know how I feel. Excited for sure, maybe a little nervous. It’s not an easy decision to have relations with someone and still come out of it just friends. Why? Do you want me to be nervous or something? Is this some kind of trick question?”

Uncertain as to what was happening to you internally; the more Rami questions, the more anxious you start to feel about this whole thing.

“Did you want me to call this whole thing off Ram? It isn’t fair to your brother though, is it? That you got to fuck me but he didn’t. I thought the whole fucking point of this thing was to figure out once and for all which one of you was better in bed?! I’m not backing away from the challenge, that if I remember correctly I was hesitant to agree to because I am terrified that this whole ‘experiment’ will irrevocably damage our long standing friendship. I can’t help but feel like I’m being interrogated or something; I’ve committed no crime.” you say a little more sharply than you actually intended.

Your eyes try to scan his face for some read on what he could be thinking.

“I just thought that maybe you’d be nervous is all,” he half-whispers, eyes cast downward clearly internally struggling to make sense of something.

“I am! Jesus H Christ. Rami I was so nervous Tuesday night that I almost called the whole thing off. I love you both and I would never want to jeopardize our friendship over a fuck.”

Something you’d said must have set him off because his lips formed a hard line and he pushed away from the table with such force that the metal cafe chairs you were all seated in made a cacophonous racket against the concrete. You watch him take a deep breath and stand up, pushing his chair toward the table a little more forcefully than he may have intended. You watch in confusion as he tosses his napkin down next to his plate that holds his barely touched food before he wordlessly walks away, you assume towards the bathrooms.

"Sam did I do or say something wrong?" you ask on the verge of tears.

“No YN, I don’t think you did. Sometimes he just-he is moody that’s all. I think maybe this new project that he’s been prepping for may be exacting a toll on him and his stress is coming out in some form of misplaced anger or something. I just call him Mr. Moody when he gets like this. Perhaps it’s an actor thing? I don’t really know,” came his response with a slight smirk. You were definitely not prepared to deal with the asshole-ish behavior this morning. Irritation begins to settle in and you wanted to slap that famous Malek smirk right off of Sami’s face just as badly as you wanted to smack Rami in the side of his head for acting like a jerk.

"I know, I've dealt with him before when he gets like this," you retort with a sigh. Rami is definitely more high strung and sometimes dealing with him during role prep can be emotionally exhausting for everyone around him. Everyone knows about his level of dedication and commitment to performing as authentically as possible, which meant that everyone just dealt with his affectionately dubbed ‘role prep insanity.’

Taking a few deep breaths of your own you come to the decision of ‘fuck him,’ if he wants to be an ass then you’d let him but you were going to try your best to not let him dictate your mood any further. Sami and you continue eating and making casual conversation until Rami comes back, wearing a stoic expression, the Malek poker face and he isn't very verbose. The one thing that you couldn't miss were his eyes; red and puffy as if he'd been crying. He undoubtedly could feel your eyes on him when you caught his gaze, he managed a small strained smile and then pulled his sunglasses from atop his head down his nose as he settled them in place on his perfect face.

For the most part the remainder of brunch passed almost amicably with the two of them, everyone deluded into believing that there hadn’t been any issue in the first place. Rami did keep his sunglasses firmly in place which carefully guarded his expressive eyes and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he was attempting to use them as a diversion, a mask, or some kind of shield.

Conversation flowed easily enough after Rami had ordered himself a few more mimosas, which were an indulgence he’d never openly admit to . He became quite animated and excitable as he began to talk to the both of you about his latest project, the one he was leaving for on Sunday.on he did speak it was openly about the latest project that he was leaving for on Sunday. You’d never tire of watching him discuss his upcoming projects, the excitement that radiates from him is contagious making everyone else around him share that energy. You highly suspect that’s why people enjoy working with him so much; the little bean was always a ball of high energy enthusiasm, he attacks everything with every bit of skill he has.

The happy mood that had tentatively settled over the table quickly dissipated once Sami brought up his plans for tomorrow and it pained you to watch as Rami completely shut down. He stopped talking and sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. He honestly reminded you of a toddler throwing a temper tantrum, like Rami did once when you were six and he was being forced to eat the three pieces of broccoli that had been served to him. The moment the waitress reappeared holding the large black envelope that contained the check Rami just wordlessly handed her his credit card.

You could feel his eyes on you as you shifted uncomfortably in your chair. You couldn't help feeling as if you'd done something wrong and you found yourself fighting back tears. In all the years that you’d know the Malek twins neither of them had ever made you feel the kind of uncomfortable that you were feeling now. Neither of them had ever been a reason for you to cry and you’d be damned if you let that happen now.

Pushing back from the table so quickly that the heavy metal chair nearly tipped over, you shot to your feet and rapidly muttered out,"I guess, ummm, if you've got this, thank you Rami for brunch. I appreciate it very much and I’m excited for you and your project. Sami, I’ll see you tomorrow and Ram I hope you’re in a better mood on Sunday.”

With a nod of your head towards each of the boys, you turned on your heel and exited the restaurant hurriedly. Fishing your keys out of your purse and unlocking your car door you slowly release the breath that you’d been unaware you were holding.

Why was Rami acting like that? Was he jealous? Confusion wracking your brain as you attempt to try and puzzle out Rami and his moods. The man's mood swings were legendary but you chalk all that up as one of the reasons he’s such an incredibly talented actor, but they could give you whiplash sometimes.

Settling back at home trying to get the confusing Rami thoughts out of your head you resort to the one thing that had always helped clear your mind. You scrubbed every inch of your house from top to bottom. After all was said and done, the house shining with absolute perfection and reeking of the oversaturated ‘tropical’ floral scents you favored in your cleaning products, you settle on your sofa after a hot shower with some shitty leftover Chinese takeout and even shittier television.

Sami sent you a very succinct text early Saturday morning to let you know that he’d be over to pick you up around noon time promising you a quiet picnic in the park. Sami was never jealous of his brother's success or his brother's money, but sometimes you got the feeling that the two of them were constantly competing in a weird way with each other. He was well aware that his brother had wined and dined you at one of the poshest restaurants in town. Sami couldn’t afford a place like that and you both knew it, and you’d never hold him the same bar his brother had set. He knew you just as well as Rami did, and he knew that you actually favored the small, quiet type of dates. Rami had only chosen the type of date that he had for the simple fact that his rise to fame did not afford him the luxury of anonymity anymore and maintaining his privacy was becoming increasingly more difficult in the digital age of instant uploads and ‘peeping Toms’.

FIdgeting nervously with the buttons on your light cardigan feeling the familiar sort of butterflies in your stomach feeling that you’d had prior to your date with Rami, you nearly jump out of your skin when the doorbell rang out loudly. You couldn’t help the small timid smile as you swung the door open to a beaming Sami. He looked so adorable standing there in some dark, tight fitting jeans and a t-shirt with a large blanket draped over his shoulder and an old school style picnic basket in the crook of his left elbow.

"Ready?" he asks confidently as he reaches out to grab your hand.

"Let's go Sami, let's go,"you tell him through your timid smile.

You knew you wouldn’t be gone long but you let go of his hand for a few moments to lock your front door. While your neighborhood was considered quite safe and there wasn’t a lot of crime in your housing area, this was still Los Angeles and you weren’t going to take any chances.

You turn back around, dropping the keys into your small cross body bag as you place your left hand in Sami’s right one as the two of you head off towards the small neighborhood park.

Taking a turn about the park before scouting out the perfect place to lay the blanket out, Sami makes a joke about feeling like Caroline Bingley and Elizabeth Bennet as they casually stroll around the large drawing room at Netherfield Park. You couldn’t help but joke back about how he would actually be the perfect Charles Bingley, sitting back and observing making silly jokes. His quiet laugh brought on a small giggle of your own.

“Very astute in your observations of me YN, but wouldn’t I be more suited to Mr. Darcy?”

“Not at all. You are much too relaxed and far more playful.You aren’t conceited enough to be a proper Caroline Bingley either, Rami would definitely be more suited to Mr. Darcy. He’s broody as hell but secretly in love with me,” you joke back, completely unaware of actual accuracy of your statement.

Sami snorts but doesn’t say much after that, his primary focus was on setting out the blanket perfectly so that you were both in a position to either sit in the sun or in the shade that the large tree offered.

Once he had everything positioned exactly as he wanted it to be, he gestures for you to have a seat and finding the perfect half shaded half sunny spot you attempt to gracefully sit. He sets the basket down to your left as he maneuvers his body so that you are situated between his legs. This position afforded you both views of the many people mulling about the park. Your favorites were the older couples out for an afternoon stroll, hand in hand.

“So Charles, how are you feeling this fine afternoon?”

“Why Miss Bennett, I do believe that I am feeling fine, especially now that I get to enjoy your company. I’m pretty sure that this is considered quite inappropriate as we are unchaperoned.”

The laugh that left you was infectious as he joined you.

“Very well my good Sir, considering that you are already planning on defiling me later I suppose that it is a good thing that we are unaccompanied on this warm day.I sure wouldn’t want any witnesses to whatever debauchery lay before us.”

You feel him shift his weight as he sits up a little straighter and whispers in your ear, "All things considered YN, you have bewitched me body and soul."

“Oh you naughty, naughty boy. You know exactly what Mr. Darcy quotes do to me,” you scold as you playfully smack him on his arm. “You’ve always been such a charmer Sami. Actually you were always so suave and smooth.”

“Oh hell. Not this shit again. Everyone always says that but I seriously used to feel so awkward and weird.

“No Sam, awkward and weird, that’s your brother,” you laugh out again. Sami is definitely bringing out the best in you today. The butterflies from earlier had disappeared now being replaced with a loud rumbling as your stomach makes you well aware of the fact that you haven’t eaten yet today.

“That is the most accurate statement about Rami I’ve ever heard YN. You know the both of us so well.”

“I just can’t believe that you remembered my favorite book.”

“Why do you say that? You think I wouldn’t remember those kinds of things about one of my best friends?”

“I never know exactly what you or your brother do or don’t remember.”

“More than you might think YN. Definitely way more than you think. I remember your favorite color, movie, flower, drink, meal, you sing to yourself when you are really happy, you dance when you think no one is watching, you can fall asleep nearly anywhere as long as you have a blanket, you are always cold but you never complain about it, you bite your lip when you are concentrating, you curse like a sailor and make no apologies for it. You march to the beat of your own drum. You are a breath of fresh air sometimes and it is beautifully refreshing.”

“I bite my lip when I’m concentrating?”

“Yeah, you also furrow your brows and chew on your nails when you are attempting to puzzle something out.”

“Damn man. I didn’t think-I had no idea I had so many tells.”

“Rami and I have known you forever YN, of course we’d know these things after so long a friendship.”

You smile to yourself as your stomach rumbles again and he casually asks if you are hungry.

"Starving."

You pull your body away from his chest and turn to sit facing him on the blanket while he reaches over and pulls the basket between the two of you removing an array of plastic containers filled with food, disposable plates, disposable cutlery and a few bottles of ice cold water.

Jaw slackening at the sheer volume of food options laid before you, looking up at him you couldn’t help but ask,"Sam, did you make all of this yourself?"

"Yeah most of it. Rami did help out a little bit but I think that was mostly because his skinny ass just wanted the extras,"he laughs out in response as he begins to plate the food.

“You’re feast madam, is ready,”he intones using a poorly mimicked, possible sort of English accent.

Bowing your head you couldn’t help but to croon back in an equally bad accent, “Thank you kindly Sir.”

Both of you all smiles as you sit together on the blanket in the sunshine as you eat just making casual small talk, sharing jokes and sipping from the cold water bottles.The casual atmosphere of the date definitely had the both of you feeling incredibly relaxed as the sun beat down on your back. The genuine smiles being exchanged was not unnoticed by other park patrons.

You overheard an older couple walking through the soft grass nearby comment about how the two of you reminded them of themselves about forty years ago, which set off a fit of giggles between the two of you.

Finishing your meal, leaving the used items stacked haphazardly on one side of the blanket you settle back between Sami’s legs as he wraps his arms around your waist. People watching was one of your favorite activities and the two of you often made it a fun game when you both played together. Making up random commentary or dialogue of the park's random assortment of visitors, giggling at some of the antics of the children observing how much fun some of the families in the park were having just running amok. Some children had popsicles that were half-melted in their tiny fists. There was a smattering of young couples that had a similar idea as the two of you and were sprawled on blankets snuggling in, some openly kissing, a group of teenagers near the basketball court smoking and shoving one another, and some older couples just strolling around the park.

This afternoon had been gorgeously sunny and warm but surprisingly not too hot. The warmth of the air, and the feeling of Sami's arms around you made your mind start wandering to Rami.You began to question why you were having the intrusive thoughts about Rami, and then your mind took a sharp turn to the left and you were stunned at how easily you admitted to yourself about how fun it would be to be in this exact situation with him. Sitting on a blanket watching the children play, talking about having a family, placing small but meaningful kisses to each other's lips. You let out a sigh and shake your head hoping to rid your mind of those thoughts. It almost started to make this moment with Sami feel wrong but you were a woman on a mission, and you weren’t going to fail. This whole thing had been your idea in the first place and you weren’t going to back down from the challenge.

Somehow, managing to clear your mind of the wayward and fantastical thoughts of Rami, your body relaxes back into Sami’s arms where you pleasantly discover that you're content to stay. Time seems to fly and before you know it you’d spent twenty minutes joking about what was happening around you. The two of you making up dialogue for some of the other couples around you. Loud laughter from the two of you had other park patrons casting curious glances at the two of you, some shaking their heads and others smiling widely.

A few beats passed between the two of you and he cleared his throat; was he ready to go?

“Sam it’s getting a little warm out did you want to-” you hesitate struggling to articulate that you wanted to leave without sounding too eager, ��do you want to stay? Or do you want to go ahead and head back to mine?

He doesn't say anything but he nods his head, releasing you from his grip and together you get everything cleared up, depositing the trash into the appropriate bins, shaking out the blanket and folding it up. You gather up the basket resting it in the crook of your elbow much as he had little over an hour earlier. Without thinking you reach out to offer him your hand which he accepts wearing a shy smile; slowly exhaling as the familiar comforting feeling settles over you both.

The walk back to your house had consisted of you mostly chattering away about anything and everything to distract yourself. Looking over at Sami every once in a while he just appeared to be content to listen to whatever it was that you couldn’t stop yammering on about.

Strolling up the driveway the butterflies came back tenfold and you find yourself feeling almost dizzy with anticipation. This wasn’t unexpected since the both of you knew that all of this was the point of the whole thing. Unlocking the door and kicking your shoes off nearly in the same manner that you’d done with Rami you almost laugh out loud. This doesn’t feel awkward like it had with Rami but rather just an anxiousness. Could you go through with this?

Observing Sami as he kicks off his shoes as you had, and setting his basket down in nearly the same place that Rami had haphazardly tossed his stuff earlier in the week you let out a weak laugh. Sami cocked a brow at you as if to question what could be so funny but he didn’t press for details as you shook your head.

For the briefest of moments things felt awkward and you swear that you could nearly cut the tension with a knife but that was swiftly put to bed as Sami takes you by the hand and guides you into the living room, stopping only once you reach the sofa.

Neither of you exactly sure how to proceed which was hard for you as you’d never been the one to completely take charge in most sexual matters. Rami had taken the lead earlier in the week and now you feel as if you’d made some incorrect assumptions about Sami. Between both twins you’d always presumed that he’d be the one to definitely take charge in all matters sexual in nature.

Perching yourself on the arm of the sofa while Sami stood in front of you he grasps both your arms in his and roughly pulls you back into a standing position in front of him, his hands skating up your arms until his hands come to a stop on either side of your face. With a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth moments before his lips descend on yours. There was not an ounce of hesitation in the way his soft mouth works yours, his right hand settling on the back of your neck to pull your face closer to his.

Your body moving on its own accord, becoming putty in his hands melting into him as your hips unconsciously pressing into his. His left hand slowly drifting downwards from your face; his fingers deftly working the buttons of your cardigan open sliding it off your shoulders. The faux pearl buttons quietly clacking on the hardwood; something about that small noise awoke a primal part of yourself.

Reaching down, grasping the hem of his shirt and lifting it up working together with him until it joined your cardigan in a crumpled heap on the floor. Seizing an opportunity to stare at his bare chest and arms for the first time in ages, viewing him now in a completely different light. You’d never seen Sami as the object of your sexual attention until this moment. Your eyes drinking in the sight of him; admiring the dark patch of hair on his chest, the light smattering of hair that trailed down into the waistband of his dark jeans, his strong arms and you felt a rush of heat to your core. Both brothers were physically identical but while Rami was lean, Sami was definitely fuller and you could appreciate the difference.

You must have been ogling his body longer than intended because he let out a breathy little laugh, “Like what you see?”

You just smirk at him and reach out for him, your lips finding his this time as your bodies begin a semi-graceful, lustful dance down the hallway towards your bedroom. Neither of you break the kiss, even his hands snake around your waist and end up on your back, fingers locating the zipper of your dress. His skilled fingers tugging the tiny piece of metal,freeing you from the confines of your dress, you let out a small moan at the sensation of the soft fabric ghosting your skin as it flutters to the floor and settles in a pool around your bare feet.

Your hips desperately trying to come in contact with his seeking the heated friction you were craving. The evidence of his arousal currently pressed into your pelvis elicits another small moan from you. You reach down and slither your hands into his jeans and into the waistband of his underwear.

Gently grasping his firm length in your hand, you move your hand in the restricted space, sliding your thumb over the head of his cock and smearing the little beads of precum onto him as you begin to work him. His eyes squeezed tightly shut as his forehead gently presses into yours, letting out small shaky breaths.

Raising your chin slightly to reclaim his mouth, your hand still working him. He lets out a quiet moan against your mouth. When you withdraw your hand from his pants and begin fumbling with this belt, his hands gently come to rest on yours. Looking up to catch and hold his gaze, his eyes are half lidded, pupils blown wide and glassy with lust.

"No, amira (princess), this is all about you. Don't worry about me."

Suddenly he lifts you into his arms and presses your back to the wall, the shock barely registering before you feel the roughness of his beard scraping along your skin as his mouth explores every inch of skin from navel to pelvis.

Sami's mouth begins to lick and suck at your soft skin in between murmurs of how gorgeous you are.

Your mouth opens and closes in a shocked silence as his lips graze over your center. Gasping as his beard scrapes against the sensitive flesh of your thighs, and the fingers of his right hand ghost along your panty line before roughly pulling them aside.

He ends up pushing you further along the wall as he places his shoulders under your knees,his left hand on your hip to steady the both of you as his tongue finds your clit and the fingers of his right hand find your slick center.

"Oh fuck," you whine out your eyes nearly rolling back into your head, your head just thumping back against the wall, as your hips unconsciously buck into his face. His grip on your hip tightens and you're certain there will be bruises in the morning.

"Oh God Sami."

You press your thighs tight around his face, his beard adding to the delicious friction your body was seeking. Your hands come down in his hair, grabbing onto the chestnut strands as you start face fucking him.

He responds by working his tongue and fingers at a much more rapid pace. Once he starts the come hither motion inside you, you nearly lose it.

You respond with grunts, moans and desperate whiny pleas for him to not stop. Soon enough you came undone around him, screaming a nearly incoherent chorus of fucks, oh God's and his name. He doesn't stop until he's worked you through your orgasm and the trembling in your legs has subsided.

He eases your legs off his shoulders and as you look at him you couldn't help the self satisfied smirk on your face. Your juices were coating his face from nose to chin. Sami's eyes lock with yours, a slow smirk creeping across his face as he slowly brings his hand to his mouth and sucks his fingers clean.

Removing his fingers from his mouth, eyes still locked with yours, licking his lips he says, "You taste so good YN. So damn good."

You let out a quiet moan before a giggle escapes.

"I bet you do too Sam. Come here I wanna taste you."

"No amira, this is all about you.”

You just wrap your arms around his neck and his lips found yours in a bruising kiss. The slow dance down the rest of the hallway ended once the back of your legs had hit the edge of your bed. Both of you were so turned on that neither of you hesitated to keep going.

“Lay back on the bed,” he instructs

You do as you were told and lift your hips to rid yourself of your panties, tossing them aside while he finishes removing his clothing.

You don’t notice when he pulls the condom out of the pocket of his jeans and effortlessly slips it on. It only felt like a few seconds had passed as his body doesn’t take long before his body is hovering over yours his hands coming to grip your hips.Letting out a slow breath as he eased himself inside of you. Sami’s hips stilled for a few moments giving you a chance to get used to the feel of him and when you whined out for him to move, he did.

His hips pounding into yours and hitting every sweet spot inside of you while you claw at his shoulders and back, wanting nothing more than to pull him deeper into you.

“Ohhhh Rami” you whine out and for just a moment you feel Sami’s hips stutter, still for a few seconds, and then continue moving.

Your eyes widen in shock as you realize what you’ve just done. He doesn’t say anything at all as his right hand comes up and grabs your chin tightly. His hips never falter in their pace as he looks you in the eye and says,”Wrong brother.”

You weren’t expecting that reaction from him and the slight aggressiveness of his handling of you made you clench around him. The pleasure coursing through your body was very different to the pleasure you had been given by Rami and you were unsure of how you felt.

Suddenly you feel his hands roughly pull your hips closer to his, as he pulls you damn near into his lap, his arms now firmly holding you around your waist as he fucks up into you. Sami buries his face in the crook of your neck for a moment before he takes the sensitive flesh at the base of your throat between his teeth as he sucks a mark into the flesh that you are certain is going to be a bright reddish purple in the morning, The hair from his beard scratching at your neck in a pleasant way just before you feel his hot breath on your ear.

“I bet you my brother didn’t make you feel this good.”

Those words made you moan into his shoulder as you come completely undone around him. He continues to fuck you through your second orgasm of the afternoon but it’s clear that he isn’t done with you yet.

Without warning he releases you and you fall back onto the mattress.

“Such a good girl, so soft and compliant. Now I’m going to make you scream. I want you on all fours.”

You scramble to your knees quickly and he wastes no time reentering you from behind. Sami places his left hand on your hip and his right hand fists on your hair.

"Say my name,"he breathlessly demands.

You quietly mutter out his name but he wasn't satisfied with that. His grip in your hair tightens. Sami’s hips have set a brutal pace that have your fingers scrambling for purchase on anything. Pulling on your fitted sheet so hard that you end up pulling the soft blue material right off the corner of the mattress. The blood pounding in your ears as another orgasm quickly approaches you hear Sami saying something.

" Say my name. Louder." He demands again, as his left hand comes down to circle your clit.

You couldn’t help it, you let loose and you scream out his name quite a bit louder than you had the first. He still wasn’t satisfied with your response. You can hear him barely keeping it together somehow staving off his orgasm as yours crashes around you. Legs trembling and your arms giving out making you face plant onto the soft mattress as you scream his name repeatedly. Clenching around him as you give in completely to the pleasure that has overtaken your body.

Sami responds by tightening his grip on your hair as his body tenses and he cums with a shout of your name, Both of you gasping for air as he collapses onto your back in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs.

Time seemed to pass too quickly after your encounter with Sami. It seems like as soon as the two of you had come back down to Earth you both got up and began the process of cleaning up.

He left by three thirty that afternoon, which left you with way too much time on your hands to mull over the details from Tuesday and today. Could you accurately be able to figure out who had actually been better in bed? Why did everything feel so different with Rami than it had with Sami? Too many questions floating around your head and you were nervous. In less than twenty-four hours you’d have to deliver your verdict to the two of them. Did you just end up in an impossible situation? Head in your hands mostly in frustration. Both of them were stellar in bed. Why is this so hard?

Trying to drown out the thoughts running through your head you decide to distract yourself with cleaning. Starting in the bedroom, you strip the bedding and replace the soft blue colored linens with the silver gray colored ones that you’d had on the bed the night you and Rami had slept together.

Picking up some other scattered laundry and doing some other menial chores around the house you realize that you were absolutely starving. Hours had passed since your picnic with Sami and the exertions of the afternoon were taking a toll. Deciding that there is no better time for pizza and wine, both a comfort to you, so that you could pull your thoughts together to be able to come to a decision about the boys.

Picking up your phone and smiling at the picture on your background. It was a photo of the three of you at the Oscars with Rami the night that he’d won. He had jokingly called you his good luck charm, and even though he had brought his family, he insisted that you too were like family to him and it would mean the world if you were there too.

Placing your order with the pizza place you decided that a quick shower was in order. You couldn’t focus while you still smelled like Sami.

Deciding to forgo any clothes for the evening, wrapping yourself in your favorite oversized fluffy robe, you head back to the living room. You picked up a pen and notepad that you’d left on the coffee table after Sami left to try and start comparing notes. So far all you’d scribbled on the page were their names. You weren’t sure how the hell you were even supposed to score this. Should you do it like the Olympics? Form, Execution, Dismount? You scribbled down orgasms placing tallies under the header. Rami two, Sami three. Was that a good thing? The sex with Rami had been so different though that you weren’t sure that it mattered.

So focused on trying to scribble down other comparisons you almost missed the knock at your front door that was quickly followed by the ringing of the doorbell. Tossing the notepad and pen down on the table with a frustrated sigh, you got up to go answer the door. Paying for your pizza and leaving the pizza delivery kid a generous tip, you drop the box onto your coffee table next to the notepad, padding into the kitchen to grab your wine. No wine glass needed tonight, you had a lot on your mind and you needed to focus, so you just drank directly from the bottle.

Grabbing a slice from the box and stuffing as much of the deliciousness that was the pizza into your mouth, you picked up your pen and began scribbling more notes onto the paper. Getting to the header of form. Rami’s form had been flawless at least in your eyes. The sex with him had been slow and gentle almost as if he’d been making love to you rather than the fuck that it was supposed to be.

After finishing your first slice of pizza you frustratedly toss the notepad back on the table and reach for another slice. As soon as it was halfway to your mouth you heard a knock on the door followed by the incessant ringing of the doorbell. Glancing at the clock on the wall it was nearly eight pm and you weren’t expecting anyone.

Swinging open the door in mild irritation giving way to amusement as Rami nearly tumbles to the floor. He manages to catch himself but ends up face planting directly into your cleavage.

“YNNNN!” Rami shouts, dragging out the last half of your name. “And HELLO YN”s tits! Such pretty things, I wanna touch 'em again. They were so soft and squishy.”

“Rami? What are you doing here?” you ask with a brow raised. You really were curious as to how he’d ended up here. You didn’t see his car or any other car.

“I just thought I’d come say hello. You know. You’re my best friend and also because I kind of wanted to kiss you again,” he half mumbles with his face still buried in your cleavage.

Laughter bubbling out of you at his boldness. Rami when even partially was intoxicated could be quite bold and had no problem saying what was on his mind. You help him stand upright and pull him into the house slamming the door shut behind you; his laughter loud as he struggles to remove his shoes. As soon as he gets his shoes off he follows you deeper into the house.

“Rami what is going on?”

You gesture for him to have a seat on the couch watching as he clumsily plops down next to you. His face is an alternating mixture of serious and forlorn. Rami doesn’t say anything for long enough that you were certain that he didn’t hear your question. Just as you are about to repeat the question he decides to respond.

“I don’t want you to forget about me. I know that it’s been several days but I don’t want my brother to win. I sometimes suspect that he’s better at everything than me. All I can do is act but my brother is better at everything else,” he rambles.

“Ram- I couldn’t forget about you even if I wanted to. You can do so much more than you think you can. I think you’re an incredible person. How much have you had to drink tonight? I think you need to eat something.”

“I’ve had plenty enough to drink but that pizza looks sooo good. I want to eat it as badly, almost as I want to eat you. You tasted like what I imagine heaven does.”

From his position on the couch he looks so sad and small. He isn’t a big guy by any means but when he gets sad he tends to shrink into himself which gives him the appearance of being much smaller than he actually is. You almost cry when he looks up at you with tears shining in his beautifully expressive eyes, and you react the only way you know how in that moment.

“Here, eat this,” you suggest as you hold the pizza up for him to take. He just smiles and leans forward not bothering to actually take the slice into his own large hands instead opting to just take a large bite of the end.

“Mmmmm so good. This is the best pizza ever.”

“Then take this slice, I’m going to go get you a bottle of water. Please don’t go anywhere,” you instruct as he finally grabs the pizza from your hand, taking another large bite.

Re-entering the living room from the kitchen less than a minute later, what you see nearly makes you faint. There was Rami casually munching on his pizza that he had gripped in one of his large hands, your notepad in the other. You clear your throat and he tosses the notepad back onto the coffee table looking a little sheepish.

“Snooping isn’t nice Rami.”

“He gave you three orgasms?”

“He did Rami. It doesn’t mean anything really I’m just trying to make comparisons that’s all. Wasn’t that the whole point of this experiment?”

His face changes from the sheepish one to the stoic Malek poker face that you hated. It was the ultimate unreadable expression and both twins wore it well. That face you always assumed was their attempt at neutrality and it drove you insane. Sometimes you call it the mask, and this is the same face he made the other day at brunch before he threw his little Rami temper tantrum.

“Rami?”

“Yes?”he responds, arching a brow at you just before he takes another bite of his pizza.

“Why are you really here?”

He suddenly starts to choke on his food but somehow manages to recover quickly before swallowing the bite of food that he’d been chewing, his face switching from Malek poker face to amusement.

“I’m here because…. I want to be! Since when have we ever needed an excuse to hang out together? I’m going away tomorrow and I’m going to miss my best friend so maybe I just wanted some quality time before I have to leave.”

You don’t buy it. His behavior at brunch yesterday and the awkwardness today in conjunction with a few things he’d said are contributing to the Malek bullshit detector that is being set off in your brain. He must have read your facial expression because he just lets out an awkward laugh before nearly inhaling the rest of his food.

“Rami, I’m not complaining. I’m just curious if the timing for the visit has something to do with your brother and what happened today,” you casually mention as you reclaim your spot on the sofa next to him. Rami doesn’t say anything but silently retrieves the water bottle you were holding out to him.

“YN why is your face all red? What is that?” he asks as he pokes at the mark that Sami had left at the base of your throat.

No response from you told Rami everything he needed to know.

“My brother did that, didn't he?”

There was no point in telling any lies. Rami would see right through it and would call you out on it immediately, so you nod your head silently to answer his question. You weren’t expecting what happened next and that was Rami letting out a growl, yes a growl, as his lithe body collided with yours knocking you back into the arm of the sofa.

“I need to give you a reminder, a refresher, about who can fuck you the best. I can’t hold this back anymore. Sami may have given you three orgasms today, but I can do it so much better. I refuse to lose to my brother. I want, no I need, to give you at least four. I’ll prove to you which Malek is the better lover,” he asserts, using a tone unlike one you’ve ever heard from him before. You knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t deny him anything.

His eyes search yours for a few moments, giving you an opportunity to decline, when you brooked no denial everything seemed to happen very rapidly from there.

His lips land on yours in an unexpected heated kiss that feels way to brief for your liking. Rami had a mouth that was made for kissing and you never wanted to stop. You whine in protest at the abrupt departure of his lips from yours but you reign in your displeasure the moment his hands fist in your hair and he roughly jerks your head to the side, allowing him better access to your neck. You gasp in shock when you feel his lips attach to the most sensitive bit of flesh on your neck, his teeth and lips working together to create the right amount of pressure needed to leave a mark. Once he was satisfied that a large enough mark would clearly be visible tomorrow he works his way upwards towards your hairline leaving a trail of smaller hickies in his wake. Rami giggles to himself, obviously proud of his handiwork as he works on leaving another trail of marks along your shoulder and collarbone. All the while he was muttering something to himself about how he refused to be outdone by his brother.

He releases your hair from his grip, his mouth licking and sucking along every inch of exposed skin eliciting a shiver from you. You move only in an attempt to adjust your body so that you can position yourself in a way that is more open to him, not noticing when his fingers gently tug at the belt of your robe allowing the fabric to fall away from your skin. Rami’s mouth continues its downward explorative journey of your body leaving nothing but goosebumps along the way.

Your mouth opens in shock and your head lolls back on the armrest of the couch the moment his lips come in contact with one of your nipples both of them hardening under the gentle pressure of his tongue, his other hand gently kneading the flesh of your other breast. His thumb tweaking the nipple just as he lightly bit down on the nipple he had in his mouth. Moaning out quietly at the wonderful sensations that his mouth were evoking, swearing that you could cum just from his stimulation of your breasts. When he felt he’d paid enough attention to one breast he moved on to the other repeating the process.

When he finally stopped lavishing all the attention on your breasts you were a panting, sweating mess.

“God Rami. How the hell do you do this to me?”

He offers no verbal response to your question but instead spreads your legs wide and slips his fingers between your wet folds.

“I knew you’d be wet for me already.”

Rami slips his fingers through your damp folds and starts to work you, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches in amused satisfaction; content that he is making you fall apart like this. Your head thrown back onto the arm of the sofa, hips bucking on their against Rami’s hand while he coos nothing but praise for you.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. You’re so beautiful spread open like this for me. Let go, cum on my fingers baby.”

HIs gentle praise and the way his thumb was circling your clit as his fingers hit that sweet spot inside of you, you came undone way too quickly for your liking. A strangled moan leaves your lips as you clench around his fingers, while one of his hands holds you steady to prevent you from bucking yourself off the couch.

“One,”he half-shouts sounding something that could best be described as victorious. “I told you that I’m going to give you four, and that’s one.”

Once your legs stop trembling you watch as he slithers his body down yours and his face aligns with your center. He spreads you open, and his tongue gets to work, stimulating your sensitive pink bundle with his tongue. Slow, languid flicks of his tongue, just enough to tease but not stimulate in the one way that you want it to be. Whining in protest, bringing your hand down to his hair hoping to spur him on just a little.

He begins to hum against you while his tongue begins to work a little faster, moving in a way that has you nearing orgasm way too quickly. Why is sex with him like this?

Without warning your thighs clamp tightly shut against his head, your hips once again moving on their own as your thighs tremble and shake.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Raaaaami fuuuuuuuck” you scream out.

You can feel him smile against your core as his tongue continues to work you through your orgasm. Once your body has stopped convulsing you feel his hand release the grip they had on your hips and he pulls himself up to his knees.

“Two.”

You try to sit up but his hands shove you back down onto the couch.

“No,” he protests when you try to reach up to help him with his pants. You want to get your hands or mouth on his beautiful cock but apparently he has other plans. Watching as he strips himself down faster than you’d ever thought it was possible for anyone to do, he strokes himself languidly for a few seconds and then maneuvers himself between your open thighs.

Rami wastes no time at all pulling your hips up and easing himself into you. The noise that escapes you makes him react with his own noises. His hips pounding into yours though his eyes never leave yours. He is a man on a pleasure mission and you know he won’t stop until he gets you exactly where he wants you.

“You feel so good baby. So good for me,” he coos.

Your body responding to him and his praise.

“Do you like this?”

“Oh fuuuuckkkk Rami. Yesssss don’t stop,” you shout, feeling so close to orgasm already. His hands coming down to pull your hips upwards,changing the angle, so that his cock hits every part of you that makes you feel good. Your body shivering at the sensations.

“I can feel you getting close baby. So good, so good for me, cum for me baby,” he encourages. His brow is furrowed and both of your bodies so overheated and coated in sweat. WIth his words of encouragement you feel that something inside of you snap and you cum hard screaming his name. You haven't completely recovered from your third orgasm with Rami yet but when your eyes snap open you are met with the sight of his eyes boring into yours with an intense concentration coupled with lust.

“Three.”

He moves his hips at a slower, less frantic pace which was surprising to you but he slides his hands up your body, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands slide into yours much as they had on Tuesday night.

You could barely register anything as his mouth starts singing your praises

“Love everything about you. Love these hands,” he murmurs as he squeezed his fingers against yours where they were now intertwined above your head, “these beautiful lips of yours so soft and sweet,” he kisses you softly, “every inch of your body is divine, like you are a goddess sent from the heavens just for me,” he lowers his body so that it is now flush against yours, “just-everything, everything, everything.” (Thank you @diasimar)

Your breath catches in your throat at his words disbelieving that he would ever utter these words to you in any other circumstances. The only explanation is that he’s caught in a moment.

“You’re so beautiful, so beautiful,” he continues as he moves his hips against yours

Your breath catches in your throat at his words and you aren’t aware if he knows what he is saying. His hips never stopping, his eyes locked on yours until you can feel his body tense and you know his orgasm is getting close.

“Baby cum for me,” he nearly pleads. Closing your eyes and giving into the pleasure coursing through your body. Your insides clench around him as you feel your body spasming in pleasure for the seventh time today, you cry out his name again and again until you feel him reach his release. Forcing your eyes open to watch him as he cums, his jaw tensing and his mouth in an ‘o’ shape, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Both of you struggle to catch your breath as he relaxes all of his weight on top of you, you release his hands and much as you had on Tuesday night you bring your hands up to his hair to run them through his damp curls. He just rests head on your shoulder and you let out a small laugh when he weakly mumbles out , “Four.”

The warm weight of him on top of you combined with your exertions from the day of sexual activities has your eyes closing and you aren’t sure exactly when you fell asleep. When you wake up in your bed in the morning you smile to yourself, rolling over and reaching out but you find the space on the mattress next to you empty.

A part of you didn’t want to feel a bit sad or abandoned but you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing freely. Why are you so emotional when it comes to Rami? You let the tears fall for a few minutes and then try to pull yourself together. You have to deliver your findings today to the boys but you needed to get up and prepare yourself for the day. Rolling over and swinging your feet over the side of your bed, you wince in pain, as you were incredibly sore from yesterday’s vigorous activities. That’s when you notice a folded piece of paper with your name on the outside in a very familiar scrawl. Confusion racking your brain when you open the notecard and realize that you don’t know what the actual note said: ahbik. la 'astatie alaintizar liruyatak baed zuhr hdha alyawm. (Google translated so I apologize for any inaccuracies but it’s supposed to be translated to: I love you. I can’t wait to see you this afternoon.)

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haverhillmayjph739 · 4 years ago

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Responsible for a Haverhill MA Budget? 10 Terrible Ways to Spend Your Money

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the-y-generation · 5 years ago

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Not My Type (Chapter 1)

Summary: “Do you know how you stop a craving? You give in to it.”

When she signed on to be a road manager, she had no idea it was going to be for one of the biggest bands in the world, much less how they were going to turn her life upside down, nor how she was about to flip theirs too. Especially one irritating frequently-late vocalist who knew exactly how charming he could be.

Pairing: Idol!Jimin / Manager!Original Character (I personally haven’t written in “y/n” format, so I just gave the reader a name, but barely even mention it)

Genre/Themes: fluff, angst, friends with benefits, friends to lovers

Status: Ongoing (Masterlist)

She tried not to let it get to her, how they shuffle off in groups and kind of just leave her once they’ve received their instructions.

But it did. It does bother her.

Her first two weeks with BTS hadn’t gone smoothly, to say the least. She was only trained and supervised for a week, then was left to fend for herself. A week to remember everyone’s names, including all staff and crew (as if seven boys weren’t complicated enough), to familiarize herself with allergies and all sorts of preferences, and to get used to moods and personalities.

How does one pretend to swim when you’re actually sinking?

For the most part, the band was nice. From the minute they met her, they were friendly, respectful, and conversational. And on a less important note, (really just a minor, superficial observation), very good-looking.

But they flocked together, already a strong unit, a complete picture, that she couldn’t see how she would ever manage to fit in. They had been at this for close to a decade now; they had little reason to care about her, she figured within a few days.

She didn’t take it personally though, knowing that the awkwardness was part of the package of being new. But still, it hurt to be the outsider.

The feeling hit her like a jab to the gut. Some nights, after a long day, she’d climb into bed, thankful that she didn’t have to share her room so no one could hear her cry herself to sleep. Some days, in the midst of their laughter and silliness, she’d shrink in loneliness that she wasn’t part of it.

She missed home, missed her friends, missed belonging.

The only good part about her tenure so far though was Namjoon, who she quickly learned was the leader of the group. Perhaps it was his ingrained assertiveness from being the head and spokesperson, or maybe it was his straightforward personality, but he was the only one who was truly warm to her and went out of his way to make her feel part of the team.

He would call her over to sit with them during meals, and ask her questions about herself during car rides. The others would listen in and smile at her answers, with Hoseok sometimes asking the occasional follow-up question. But he could only do so much, and it would rarely go beyond that.

Afterwards, they’d flock together again, leaving her to her own devices - they were a group of boys who had known each other for years, and she was the new girl paid to boss them around.

Sometime during her third week, Anna stayed up late, having finished another tearful call with her mom. It was all the usual drama – she was sad, and lonely, and tired. She wanted to come home.

But instead of offering words of comfort, her mother gave her a cold dose of reality.

“Get a grip, will you?” Came her mother’s voice through the phone. “You’re getting paid to travel with 7 grown men, who you say are all nice, and make sure they’re doing what they’re supposed to be doing and where they’re supposed to be. There are far worse ways to make a living.”

Biting down the instinctive defensiveness, she held close to her her mother's parting words.

“If you can’t change the situation, change your attitude to it.”

Feeling claustrophobic in her room after the tense call, she made herself some tea and walked out to her room's balcony.

To her surprise, despite the ridiculous hour inching closer to early morning, she had company.

On the balcony of the room next to hers sat Jimin, who turned to her with expectant, curious eyes. His pink hair blew gently in the midnight air, and his pale skin akin to moonlight. He put his phone down on his lap when she looked at him.

She had half a mind to go back inside, aware that her eyes and face were puffy from crying and she had only a ratty shirt and baggy sweatpants for pajamas. He, on the other hand, looked immaculate despite a long day of press interviews and another sold-out show.

“Hi,” He greeted with a grin as she pulled up a chair.

“Hi,” She greeted back softly, trying not to look weird as she shuffled around.

Jimin kept watching her as she settled into her chair and situated her drink on the small patio-style table, as if he was waiting for her to make conversation. But she didn’t, and yet he still kept looking.

That was one thing she had to get used to quickly – Jimin’s stare. He had a knack for holding eye contact, sometimes longer than absolutely necessary and socially acceptable. He didn’t shy away from openly looking at people either. It was unnerving, especially when he wore those grey contacts that made him look like a wolf, on the prowl to seduce or maybe kill you.

Eventually, he looked away and they settled in silence. The low thrum of the city below buzzed between them, and the cool night air did wonders for her tear-wrecked lungs. But the longer they sat there not talking, the heavier the silence got, like a heavy blanket threatening to choke her.

“If you can’t change the situation, change your attitude to it.”

Her mother's words rang at the back of her head, and shame washed bitterly over her. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed her pride and resolved to change her attitude right here, right now.

“So…” She began, tapping a finger against her drink anxiously.

Jimin turned his gaze to her again, his full lips already slightly curved up as if he was thinking of something funny just now. He said nothing, but the question “Yes?” was in his eyes.

“Trouble sleeping?” Anna asked, unable to come up with anything better.

Jimin smiled and shook his head. “I just really stay up late. You?”

“Had a call with my mom.” She explained simply.

He nodded, but didn’t continue the conversation. Anna sighed quietly, thinking that she at least gave it a shot. She couldn’t blame him if he didn’t feel like talking; it was already late after all.

“Are you okay?” He broke the silence eventually. She faced him, noting his child-like pout as he motioned towards her face. “Your eyes.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed embarrassedly, quickly turning to cover her eyes with a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He hastily apologized. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. You just look like you could use someone to talk to.”

Anna faced him again, face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s okay.” She cleared her throat. “I've just been feeling a little homesick lately.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie, but she didn’t elaborate further.

“Is this weird for you, being away from home?” He asked, nimble fingers moving about to gesture at nothing in particular.

“A little bit.” She shrugged. “I've worked with other acts before, just small bits here and there, but I used to have an office job as a project manager.”

“So why'd you take this job?” Jimin asked, pulling out a tumbler of water from behind his chair. He peered at her from over the rim, waiting for her answer.

“Change of scenery, I guess.” She replied. “I just got to a point where I wanted to do more than just push marketing for all these useless products, you know?”

“So you left that to help sell a band instead.” Jimin teased.

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know I was going to work for you guys, okay.”

“With us.” He said.

“What?”

“With us.” Jimin repeated. “Not for us. With us.”

Anna smiled and lifted her glass to him, which he reciprocated with his tumbler.

Surprisingly, conversations with Jimin came easier than expected. They talked until the first light of early morning brushed against the horizon, tinging the city skyline blue. He was funny and said dumb things sometimes, but Jimin was kind and listened earnestly. He didn’t judge too quickly and always spoke gently.

By the time she managed to shoo Jimin back into his room, reminding him that they had an interview at 10am, her chest was warm with long-gone tea and something else she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

But she managed to a few hours of seamless peaceful sleep, and for the first time in a while, she felt at home.

#park jimin #park jimin fic #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin fanfic #jimin #jimin fic #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #park jimin smut #jimin smut #jimin fwb #not my type

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sylviajackson5 · 5 years ago

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Pruned Tree Rochester Ny

Contents

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roubinoff-photographies · 5 years ago

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What The Oxford English Dictionary Doesn't Tell You About Decorative Concrete Planters

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emilysn2019-blog · 5 years ago

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We pick up from Part 1 of our What’s New in Kyoto, Japan post with more on temple construction, soda updates (including new Coke and Pepsi flavors), cool summer fun in northern Kyoto, and more. We’ll also share some ‘just for fun’ photos from this visit to Kyoto.

But first, we encountered a family of boar! If you’ve read our Fushimi Inari Shrine at Night post, you know this is not uncommon (and has happened to me before), but it’s no less surreal. Monkeys and boar sightings are becoming more frequent, or so it would seem based upon warning signs at various temples and other locations around Kyoto, especially in Higashiyama and Arashiyama.

Just before the Senbon Torii loop entrance, we heard a weird sound coming from behind a sub-shrine in a clearing. Upon looking over, we saw that it was a mother boar and 4-5 piglets. We were a pretty safe distance away, so I quickly fumbled for my camera to grab a photo. Unfortunately, it’s awful–and the mother and most piglets had already wandered off…

As much as I was tempted to peek around the corner to grab something better, wild boar in Japan are no joke. The last one I encountered sounded and looked like a monster, and caught me off-guard because it was literally separated only by the torii gates and me.

The mother here was about half the size and seemed comparatively “chill” but it still wasn’t worth risking. We hung back and waited for the remaining boar piglet to clear, gave them a bit of a buffer, and then proceeded up the Senbon Torii path.

On an amusing note, one of Fushimi Inari’s stray cats was in this area, and it was slowly creeping towards the last piglet before arbitrarily stopping to plop on the ground. I’m not sure what this cat planned on doing or why it wasn’t terrified of the boar, but even as a piglet, the boar was much larger than it.

If you’re looking for more “wildlife” photos, you’re in luck, as we saw some cats this trip:

That last one sneakily jumped up to inspect (and sit next to) our bags while we were distracted by the cat pictured above him. This is like the cat version of a group velociraptor attack.

Moving on to construction work happening around Kyoto’s temples…

Not really anything new to report here, but the work on Kiyomizudera Temple that’s slated to be completed in March 2020 remains ongoing.

We can’t wait for this to be finished. Kiyomizudera is a must-do regardless, but it’ll be nice to see the sprawling temple sans a giant warehouse.

On a more upbeat note, nearby Chionin Temple has made great strides in its similar multi-year refurbishment project. Here, the giant warehouse surrounding its main hall has been removed, revealing the finished product–at least, the exterior of it.

The interior is slated to reopen in May 2020, and other smaller-scale projects around the grounds should conclude at the same time. Chionin Temple is much more pleasant now, but there are still construction vehicles, workers, and noise up here. Nevertheless, seeing the main hall was a pleasant surprise and we also can’t wait for this complex to be devoid of construction.

North of Kyoto, Kuramadera Temple has entirely reopened following Typhoon Jebi. This area was hit hard by that storm, which caused the Kurama Fire Festival to be canceled, and took down train lines in the area, while also closing off portions of Kuramadera Temple.

While damage is still visible in the temple (and work is visible on the train ride up…and while walking around Kurama and Kibune), everything is once again accessible. This includes the walking path to Kibune.

This is more or less the story of Typhoon Jebi in and around Kyoto. We’ve noticed several other temples–too many to list–are still attempting to recover and repair damage from the storm. Most don’t have extensive devastation, but they do have some structures that were damaged during the typhoon.

Speaking of Kibune, we had an excellent time here eating at a few restaurants doing kawadoko, over-the-water dining.

In Kibune, ryotei have kawadoko patios lined up one after the other, and many of them serve summer specialties.

I didn’t keep count, but there are about a dozen or more ryotei in all. The best of these incorporate the flowing river, waterfalls, rocks, and other landscape elements into their kawadoko.

These are popular in summer for Kyotoites to escape from the heat.

Above is the most famous of these is Hirobun, which draws a wait measured in hours. We grabbed a reservation here and dined elsewhere while we waited.

Hirobun is well known for its nagashi somen, which are flowing noodles that you grab with chopsticks as they pass. Sarah called this one of her favorite experiences ever in Japan–it was definitely a ton of fun and we’d highly recommend it. (I’ll do a full post on it at some point.)

Another summer delicacy in Kyoto is the ayu sweetfish.

Kyoto anglers fish for these in the Kamo and Katsura Rivers, and the best-tasting (and fattiest) ones are caught this time of year. You eat the entire thing, head and all. If you can’t make it up to Kibune, Nishiki Market’s vendors also have delicious ayu that’ll only cost 400 yen or so.

Heading over to Northwest Kyoto for more temple updates…

Genkoan Temple is a modestly popular spot north of Golden Pavilion. It’s inexplicably closed until 2021, a fact we (and other visitors arriving on the same bus as us) didn’t learn until arriving at the temple.

Genkoan is famous for it two large windows. One is round and is called “The Window of Enlightenment.” Its square counterpart is called “The Window of Confusion,” with corners representing life, old age, illness, and death.

Genkoan is also known for its bloody ceiling of the main hall, which was made using floorboards from the disassembled Fushimi Castle. In 1600, this castle was besieged by enemies of future shogun, Tokugawa Ieyasu. The blood of the defenders was shed all over the castle floor, and subsequently installed as ceiling boards of five temples in Kyoto to honor them.

Kotoin is one of the most popular subtemples at the Daitokuji Temple complex, which is one of our top picks for Kyoto. It’s famous for the maple trees on its approach. It has been closed for the last couple of years due to ‘maintenance and seismic retrofit.’ (During which time it has, oddly, appeared in a nationwide advertising campaign for fall colors.)

It was originally supposed to reopen last year in June. That date slipped to October, just in time for the popular autumn travel season. That date was moved forward to this March, and is now slated to reopen in October 2019.

Early readers of the blog might recall our Cool Japanese Vending Machine Beverages and Cool Japanese Vending Machines: Drink 2 posts. In the “sequel” we promised more of these, but haven’t delivered.

In large part, this is because we’ve shifted most of our soda budget from vending machines to convenience and grocery stores.

Nevertheless, sometimes we still partake in the vending machine scene, and stumble upon something that needs to be shared.

In this case, it’s a cautionary tale: the 100 yen coffee pictured above is probably laced with rubbing alcohol, and should not be purchased under any circumstances. That “Best Tasting Coffee” tagline is a bold-faced lie.

At the other end of the spectrum, Pepsi and Coke continue to release interesting new beverages in Japan. At some point, I should do a post rounding up all the unique Coca-Cola and Pepsi options we’ve tried over the last few years.

Finally, some random photos from around Kyoto:

That wraps up our summer updates from Kyoto, Japan. If you’re planning a trip later this year or next, be sure to consult all of our regularly-updated resources (links below) for pretty much everything you need to know!

If you’re planning a trip to Japan that includes Kyoto, we recommend that you start by consulting our Ultimate Guide to Kyoto, Japan to plan all aspects of our vacation. You should also check out our other posts about Japan for ideas on other places to visit!

Your Thoughts

Any thoughts about the latest developments in Kyoto? What about our wild boar encounter? Does summer in Kibune intrigue you? Would you try one of the ayu sweetfish? About about the unique flavors of Coke and Pepsi? Any topics you’d like to see us tackle in future posts about Japan? Any questions about what we’ve covered here? Does visiting this spot in Kyoto interest you? Hearing about your experiences—even when you disagree with us—is both interesting and helpful to other readers, so please share your thoughts below in the comments!

The post What’s New in Kyoto, Japan for 2019 – Part 2 appeared first on Travel Caffeine.

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uterusclub · 6 years ago

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As I sit here reflecting on the weekend, it’s disheartening to glance out our patio doors to see the unending doom that is Chicago’s relentless winter! Yes, it’s April 14th and snowing. The only thing ‘appropriate’ about this situation is the premier of Game of Thrones but we will get to that later.

We jump-started our weekend early this past Friday afternoon taking in a showing of Pet Cemetary at Norridge’s AMC. Lounged back in complete comfort, we laughed each and every time the zombie cat had a cameo as it reminded us both of a non-zombie cat we all know as “Monkey” a/k/a Bear. We now ponder if he is, in fact, the undead. The movie was, in truth, just ‘aight.’ I do enjoy Stephen King’s ‘dark conclusions’ in horror. Very un-cliche. And yet, the ending was pretty anti-climatic.

Continuing our adventures, we shopped at a nearby Joann Fabric’s, Discovery, and Shoe Carnival to gather ‘supplies’ for our upcoming activities. Shoe Carnival graciously provided us with empty boxes for our diorama project, however, we ended up buying cute animal shoes anyway!

Upon reaching the homefront, we drank and caught up on our terribly wonderful reality t.v. shows before proceeding out for dinner at Crio. Groupon to the rescue! Oh, and minor detail – I dressed in ‘partial’ costuming attire for the night’s festivities. Crio was delicious – we bantered in crunk fashion before heading over to The Liars Club.

After heading back over to the car and adding the ‘remainder’ of my outfit ie freshly duct-taped jacket and moustache, we entered into the infamous Liars Club. Now the only thing I recall about this place was from a ghost tour several years ago. My vague recollection was of some bar fight that occurred in the upstairs area which housed a pool table. Someone died. Apparently, according to our very upbeat, A.D.D. bartender, no one had been allowed upstairs for the past 8 years. So it’s been a minute. With sight disappointment, we downed several drinks to kill time before the live, all-female Queen cover band, The Ready Freddies took stage. Thanks to my costuming, I met part of the band briefly who requested a few photos. An hour and change later, the bar had filled up. We sat in anticipation and became immediately intrigued, horrified and distracted by a random patron who evidently knew our bartender and who’s birthday it was. But this was not our intrigue. Our intrigue was his hair – or lack thereof. This guy had buzzed two strips of hair on either side of his head that came to a point in the front. I’m not sure if you can imagine this but we attempted many photos and videos of this complete enigma of a hair design which we’re pretty sure he caught immediate whiff of as he flipped us off in our selfie attempt with him in the background. Ironically, after taking in the band (which was awesome) for a few songs, we left out where aformentioned dude was standing outside and disappointingly asked if we were leaving already. Good luck to you sir – in all your hair endeavors! He most definitely needs to be an extra for the next Mario Brothers’ movie.

Saturday, I must say was perhaps even MORE eventful than our Friday. After heading to my dance studio for a rehearsal and stopping at several stores for a ‘peep’ mission, I eventually headed back home to pick up Sharon and the Monkey for a little visit with a friend we all know as The Easter Bunny. Petsmart wasn’t horribly crowded – in fact, there was just one, mini, ugly dog getting it’s photo taken. Odd to say but without even seeing a face behind the mask, you could tell the Easter Bunny was just ‘not feeling’ this whole thing. Sorta eery not knowing who was under there – save, a poorly paid man who assumedly hated his existence. Bear was slightly panicked but mostly good – that was until he got into the actual arms of the bunny at which point, he continuously shifted his attention to the opposite side of where photos were being taken (NOT Next Top Model material, for sure). Several million photos later, we all gave up and headed home. This, however is not where the madness ends but merely begins.

Instead of dying eggs this year, I suggested we attempt creating peep dioramas. Sharon quickly settled on recreation of a painting and I, of course, took immediately to a Moulin Rouge piece. The next few hours entailed lots of cursing, glue sticking and laughter over the ridiculously awesome nature of this whole project. Case in point – we are yet to finish but updates will be provided in the near future!

After getting to a satisfactory point of progress, we took a break for food, drinks and t.v. before getting reading for the next endeavor for the weekend: Roaring City Festival! We had already pre-prepped our outfits and just needed hair and make-up execution for the event held in Logan Square! Several hours later, we headed out on the glorious CTA. A quick trip and walk later, we arrived at the Logan Square Auditorium which was smaller than imagined and not very crowded. But it WAS only 6pm. We arrived just in time to catch the ongoing burlesque performance which was dece. We hung around for the afro-centric DJ and danced at our table-top while taking in the sights of all the wonderful misfits crushing the dance floor. There was a mini Matthew McConaughey wearing a backpack who was completely stellar in entertainment and whom we wondered just what was inside his satchel. Drugs? Most likely. Downing cranvodka after cranvodka, we headed home after Sharon purchased a super random, Abe Lincoln tie-dye shirt and ordered sushi while awaiting our el. Feeling the heightened effects of the booze once home, we downed sushi, attempted tv perusal and then both knocked out cold and hard in what felt like an instant. It was 9pm!

And that brings us back to the today and now – Sunday! Sharon had been anticipating the premier of Game of Thrones for as long as I can remember. I’m on board as well but with no where NEAR the same enthusiasm. Regardless, the morning was spent tv watching and eventually lead to the prepping of our GOT themed meal ie things that ‘seemed’ authentic but in reality were poser-like ‘Medieval Times’ type foods. But still good, nonetheless. Cornish hens, freshly baked Dire Wolf bread and sliced potatoes. Let me not forget our appetizer of blue (dragon) deviled eggs as well as our accompaniment of l.e.d. dragon cups! Food was splendid – despite Sharon’s perfectionist attitude. We topped the whole entourage of amazingness off with GOT Oreos I had hunted down earlier in the week! Not a bad way to end what felt like the shortest (though productive) weekend! We can only hope it is the winter’s last coming because this shit’s been dragon on.

Spring is Coming; You know nothing – more snow! As I sit here reflecting on the weekend, it's disheartening to glance out our patio doors to see the unending doom that is Chicago's relentless winter!

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ghostlystore · 8 years ago

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Q&A: Richard Upchurch keeps DIY alive at Brandnewnoise.

Richard Upchurch knows the unique satisfaction of DIY craftsmanship, and he’s slowly but surely spreading the word. Whether it’s motivating his team of woodworkers and engineers at Brandnewnoise to think constructively, or teaching interns the joy of building their own instrument from scratch, the Brooklyn resident and business owner seems to inspire creativity at every turn. And the handcrafted “sound gadgets” his company produces are meant to do the same—Brandnewnoise’s playful, easy-to-use products, like the Shaka-Khan and Loopy Lou, have caught the attention of everyone from Wired to Vice to The Flaming Lips. It says a lot about Upchurch and Brandnewnoise that one their best creations is actually an instrument that isn’t finished; you have to put the thing together on your own.

Needless to say, Ghostly has also been inspired by the Red Hook-based brand, and so we had to collaborate with the crew on a gadget of our own. Thus the Ghostly Zoots was born, an ebony-stained version of Brandnewnoise’s thumb piano device. We were so pleased with how our exclusive Zoots turned out that we had to learn more about the man who made it possible. Upchurch was happy to answer our questions—detailing exactly what got him into making these instruments, how Brandnewnoise operates on a daily basis, why his toy-like creations appeal to adults, and how he learns as much from his ongoing internship program as he aims to teach the kids. Here’s a look at small business done with passion and ingenuity.

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How did you first get into crafting handmade, functional goods?

I grew up in a “try to build it before you buy it” environment. My dad enjoyed the challenge of finding solutions to problems, so we tried building things first. His main hobby is making leather goods, and I’ve always loved watching him work. It was here I learned patience, process, and craftsmanship.

I built one of my first sound objects after being on vacation with my extended family. All of the toys my nieces and nephews had were making a whole lot of noise—pre-recorded sounds that seemed lame and out of context. I thought, “What if you could input your own sounds?” So I set out to find a solution. I bought some parts and ended up making a voice recorder with pitch control. And well, here we are today, still building voice recorders and other creative sound gadgets.

Brandnewnoise seems to be a project inspired by toys and childlike creativity. Why do you think your gadgets interest older people, too?

Who doesn’t love turning knobs and pushing buttons? Really, I think it’s the simplicity. Oddly enough, when you set really narrow limitations, you find yourself with infinite possibilities. Sure, you could do most of what my gadgets do on any device—smart phones, tablets, or laptops. However, I think we long to get away from our work, and the singular function of what we make at Brandnewnoise takes you straight into the realm of play.

What does a typical day look like for you?

Coffee, always coffee. Then I ride my bike down to the wood shop in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Mornings I try to keep the creative flow going with as few distractions as possible; I’m usually looking at new ideas, hashing out problems with new circuit designs, making adjustments to our manufacturing process. I love collaborating with other artists, so sometimes I’ll be working on various projects I have in the queue.

We have a different crew of staff and interns that are at the shop every day, and at some point or another we will usually walk over to the patio at Fairway or hit the Hope & Anchor for omelets to break for lunch. More coffee is often had at Baked before we buckle down in the afternoons for assembling and building units, filling orders, and shipping out. There is always music playing, people talking about their lives, what shows they’ve seen, something they saw on the train. And snacks, gotta have snacks.

We also make it a point to have “creative hour” at least once a week, where the whole team stops whatever they are doing and we let our imaginations run. Sometimes we make videos, paint or draw, or have discussions like, “If you could invite anyone to visit the studio, who would it be?” The idea is to just do something fresh and out of the ordinary.

With your internship program, what do you aim to teach the kids that come to your workshop?

I tell the kids who come here that I will teach them some woodworking skills and a basic knowledge of electronics, but at the end of the day, I want them to take pride in their work and to leave with a sense of accomplishment. I want them to see a finished gadget and have a proud feeling of “I built that.” What I hope to teach them is that in our shop they are part of a community, they are respected and heard, and when they walk out the door, they feel empowered to be themselves. I can’t begin to tell you how important my whole team is and what I learn from them every day.

Have the kids taught you anything that has changed your approach or process?

Absolutely. I tell everyone who walks through the door that if they have a better way of doing something, they need to speak up. I am wide open to change, and I’ve realized sometimes my way of doing things might be best for me but not for the team or the process. For instance, we recently changed the order of installing our electronics after one of the interns said they thought it would be easier to install the black button before the output jack. Thank goodness, because it’s so much easier to install the black button first! So yeah, something like this happens and then the whole order changes. You get better processes when you find people who are willing to think for themselves and who feel confident to make suggestions.

vimeo

In what ways do you hope to expand and grow Brandnewnoise in the future?

We are constantly working on new designs, along with working to reach a broader audience of musicians, kids, aliens, and all those who feel the need to make some noise. Long term, I keep thinking towards a vision of expanding the manufacturing to other cities in the US based on our operations here in Brooklyn. I think there is a way to replicate what we do here on a different scale, with various internship programs that create a positive impact so we have other communities who are able to say at the end of the day, “We built that.”

#ghostly #ghostly international #the ghostly store #art and artifice #brandnewnoise #interview #diy #text #brooklyn

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connorrenwick · 4 years ago

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Pair Creates Miniature Versions of Their Latest Workplace Furniture System

Remember back a few weeks ago when we featured San Francisco-based Pair and their new Olli workplace furniture system? Well, the brand had been scheduled to launch Olli at this year’s NeoCon, but as you know, all trade shows were cancelled due to the ongoing pandemic. They were disappointed to say the least, as this was Olli’s big debut, but the team rallied and came up with a creative way to showcase their latest workplace collection. While quarantining at home, four team members got to work on making mini environments that showed creative ways of how the Olli system can be used. Utilizing 3D printed components, cardboard, fabric and paint swatches, nail polish, and a whole lot more, their finished designs are below, where they’ve also answered some questions about the future of the office environment, as well as their mini Olli journey. Take a look!

Hillary Kalamaha, Senior Application Design at Pair Hillary designed her miniature Olli for a creative or collaborative team that also needed to tackle solo work with focus.

How did you feel when you realized this project you had been working on, Olli, was not going to launch at NeoCon? That you might not get to launch it at all?

Disappointed and unsure what to expect next. After all the months of work leading up to NeoCon and even creating the concept for the display we were really excited to showcase our new product, but also debut the Pair brand at NeoCon. Once the dust settled, we looked at the change of plans as a new opportunity to express our creativity and push the boundaries of what a product launch could look like, which was very refreshing as a designer and team.

What is your favorite Olli element? What do you think will be the most useful in an office space?

Favorite Sidekick is the Stackable Storage. The versatility of applications and functional enhancement to an individual or group setting. It’s not only storage, but a play on visual barriers and definition of space.

What was the most challenging moment in creating your mini Olli?

Perfection is a curse and blessing for all designers I’m sure, so the tedious detailing and applying of materials on such a small scale was challenging.

Why did making an Olli at home feel like the right response to this moment in time?

Living and working from home is something, maybe for the first time, that so many people can truly relate to. I thought it was a fun celebration of this moment in time where all of us are sharing this common experience.

Do you think the office is making a comeback?

The office will certainly not go away, but the intent and reasoning for its need will definitely change. Companies are still navigating what the future office will look like for them, and it may be different for each, but I’m confident the office will still hold a place in our future.

What is your Olli made from?

A mixture of different materials: Felt, textured fabric, card stock, veneer / laminate, solid wood, wire (tube and flat bar), construction paper, nail polish, colored pencils, 3D printed components

What kind of team can work at your Olli?

Any team can work at Olli. We designed Olli to be a platform for versatility so that teams could move, shape, and shift the Elements and Sidekicks to create unique spaces. For my application in particular, I was thinking of a creative or more collaborative team that toed the line of needing heads down and collaborative space throughout the day.

In process images from Hillary’s mini Olli:

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Alyse Kobus, Applications Designer at Pair Housed within her kitchen cabinet above her coffee maker, Alyse’s mini Olli is colorful and features shelves that hold miniature pieces of art.

How did you feel when you realized this project you had been working on, Olli, was not going got launch at NeoCon? That you might not get to launch it at all?

Disappointed, this was going to be the first product launch I was a part of at Pair and I was excited to see the buzz that it got at NeoCon. Also working closely with the team to design the booth was exciting. I couldn’t wait to see how it was going to turn out, we were getting really innovative with space division and butterfly screens.

What is your favorite Olli element? What do you think will be the most useful in on office space?

Sidekick stacking storage. I love the way you can change the horizon of the space and create extra storage which can either be individual storage or shared as a bookcase. They also double as a useful space divider if you want to separate a collaboration zone from the workstations.

What was the most challenging moment in creating your mini Olli?

The Sidekick Stacking Storage ironically, my favorite piece turned out to be the most difficult to create. I built them to the specifications that they are manufactured in metal, but out of cardstock. The exactness of my measurements turned out to be the problem, they were always looking a little crooked to me. They also took a surprising amount of paint. Each one has at least 3 coats of paint to get the right shade and coverage. My fingers were Abyss, Rouge, and Sunny for about a week.

Why did making an Olli at home feel like the right response to this moment in time?

It ended up being a good way to get my mind off of the Shelter in place and the quarantine.

Do you think the office is making a comeback?

I think there will be a new mix between the open office and the private office with more screening and larger space between coworkers. I do think that the private offices will continue to dwindle though. We will begin to see more spaced out versions of the Open office that we have all been working in the last few years and then when things have settled down and people are feeling comfortable to go back we will see an infill of workstations that will either be added or if they were just not occupied, they will be now. Some companies though might choose to stay with the larger footprint open office solution and instead try to change how their workforce functions. Keeping with the working from home on a part time basis and having employees come in as-needed or for critical times.

What is your Olli made from?

Cardstock, wrapped Laminate, Camira Synergy fabric, cardboard, wooden dowels, aluminum wire, nail polish

Tell us about the setting you put your Olli in.

My Olli is in my kitchen cabinet right above my coffee maker where my coffee cups typically reside. We have a small kitchen and I love my colorful vintage plates, which seem to go well with the finishes of my colorful Olli application. I used small pieces of wood I had left over from creating the Olli to make shelves, and picture frames. The small photos are magnets photos from my travels and the plant in the stacking planter is taken from my patio.

What kind of team can work at your Olli?

The application was designed for a Marketing team. There is a lot of room for collaboration as well as storage for swag or other marketing materials. I left the sightlines open between users on either side of the Olli so they can communicate and easily swivel a screen or hand something to each other.

In process images from Alyse’s mini Olli:

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Sam Petrovich, Design Engineer at Pair Sam’s mini Olli fits within a shelving unit designed to hold vinyl, creating a miniature office space complete with 3D printed parts that were painted with nail polish and handmade pieces. What is your favorite Olli element? What do you think will be the most useful in an office space?

I really like the stacking storage units because of the range they have. Because they are accessories, I know that people will be a little more bold and daring with colors which will be fun to see. My two favorite options are the planter box and the perforated options because it makes the space more playful and lively with the light and shadows that will be cast and it invites greenery to be more than an ancillary component.

What was the most challenging moment in creating your mini Olli?

I think only having an inside workspace was the most challenging. Shopping for art supplies at my local drug store was challenging but a fun one.

Why did making an Olli at home feel like the right response to this moment in time?

I feel like making an Olli at home was fitting and a fun juxtaposition. I have a lot of nice memories of my team getting excited when a prototype arrived and wanting to test it out and us just hanging out around the Olli in our office and it’s fun to have a little keepsake, so to speak of that in my home office.

Do you think the office is making a comeback?

One of my favorite quotes is “There is nothing wrong with change, if it is in the right direction” (Sir Winston Churchill) and I think that our return to the office is just that. We’ve all made adjustments to working at home because it was safer to distance ourselves physically at that time and there was nothing “wrong” with that change, and when we start working from our office again, we won’t be returning to the same space, but a new one that is improved to reflect the mental and physical needs at that time.

What is your Olli made from?

(Olli Only) My Olli base was 3D printed and painted with a hand mixed nail varnish color to match Storm. I wanted to have both the Belay and Olli tops to be hickory which I replicated by scoring the cathedrals in the basswood and enhanced with some markers and Danish oil. I originally made the stacking storage units out of aluminum cans but they were a little too frail. The final storage units were made as one unit out of basswood and added parting lines to separate each unit. The plants were made by pressing hot glue and metal wire between two sheets of kraft paper, which were painted with nail varnish, that later were cut into various leaf shapes. The Butterfly Screens were made from some nails that had the heads ground off, a cereal box, and some industrial felt that was colored with watercolor concentration.

(Everything Else) The Crostinis were made with industrial felt and belt nails. The Tucks were made with aluminum cans and a jig. The Lido Pill and Squircles were made from foam core and fabric swatches. The EOR was made out of Camira swatches, foam core, and nails. The Naere.co pillow was made with muslin and utility cloth and was stuffed with wood shavings and cotton swabs. The laptops were made out of foam core, chipboard from a cereal box, and cable from an old pair of headphones. The front masonry was made from foam core, the packaging that my modem came in, hot glue, and watercolor concentrate. The pendant vaulted roof was 3D printed and painted with nail varnish and then backlit with LEDs and a frost gel. The back window was 3D printed and placed over a plastic shopping bag and photograph. The pendant lights were made of ping pong balls, small LEDS, and speaker wire. The Akaba chairs were 3D printed and covered with hosiery and nail varnish.

Tell us about the setting you put your Olli in.

I thought it would be fitting to have the IT Team scenario set amongst my vinyl records. My bookcase is against a brick wall which ended up being the main driver for the IA in my Olli’s tableau.

I wanted the space to feel bigger than the just over square foot that it is so I set up two mirrors on either wall to expand the space and to be able to see more of Olli at once. After that I really wanted to tie in my apartment’s architecture with the confines of the bookcase which lead me to make the masonry in the front and the pendant vaulted roof (to hide and soften the LEDs above). I got the idea for the roof from some art/prints on my *now* office wall (Tissot, Boullee, Paxton) and my neighborhood coffee shop (which is one of the few places I’ve been during the SIP) which is located in an old Ford Motor Showroom in Alameda. Because we don’t have too many old buildings like this on the west coast, I thought that this space I created could be somewhere in Pittsburgh, PA like in an old factory and that had been converted into an office space. The view from the window is actually looking out on the Strip District in Pittsburgh that used to have a number of factories and mills.

What kind of team can work at your Olli?

My Olli layout was designed for an IT Team. Fortunately, before I got started on this project, I was able to interview our office’s IT rep and ask her about what her office and general workspace is now, what she (and her coworkers) use, what they like, what they don’t like, and what they wish they had. It gave me some good ideas for what EDC and work accessories that Olli would/could need to hold and what kind of meeting and work space that Olli (specifically the Butterfly screens) could help facilitate.

In process images from Sam’s mini Olli:

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Elliot Whalen, Design Engineering Manager at Pair Elliot’s mini Olli found its home in two settings – against front steps made of stone and on a bookshelf with art books and a framed photo to dress the space up.

How did you feel when you realized this project you had been working on, Olli, was not going to launch at NeoCon? That you might not get to launch it at all?

Pretty bummed to say the least. Not only was it going to be the first major product launch for Pair, it was going to be at NeoCon for thousands to see. Up until this point Pair product has just been rolled out on specific projects or to a small group in our San Francisco office. NeoCon was going to be an opportunity for Pair (not just Olli) to be introduced to the industry. Hillary had designed a really awesome booth that showed Pair’s creative, playful, and outside the box approach to office design, and I was looking forward to installing it and bringing it to life in our NeoCon space. Riding the wave of success we just had with the New York Pop-up, this was an even bigger opportunity to show off. Not to mention, personally, it was going to be the first time I was going to NeoCon as both a spectator and Vendor. We were really excited to show off all our hard work.

What is your favorite Olli element? What do you think will be the most useful in an office space?

Tough question. I think the success of Olli is the versatility of all the elements and how well they all play off each other no matter what pairing they are configured in. The most unique element I’d have to say is the Butterfly Screen. The flexibility in space division/privacy and the adjustability on the fly is unlike any other product I’ve seen in this application. This will be the most useful in the office space, especially with the movement back towards more privacy between users. Ultimately I’d have to choose the stackable storage. We had designed a similar product before that was unsuccessful. It looked like every other mix and match millwork stacking cube/box storage out there. We were also coming up short on a sleek way to lock the units together while also allowing for quick and easy user adjustability. Where that product failed, the Olli (and Swing) Stackable Storage excelled. Using sheet metal (vs. millwork), we could form a slightly tapered shape and incorporate a shallow lip, allowing each unit to neatly nest on top of each other and the Olli surface while locking in place. Sheet metal also allows us to add unique perforation details and fun pops of color (through powder coating).

What was the most challenging moment in creating your mini Olli?

Originally I was worried about finding time to even work on this outside my actual day to day, but it ended up being a really fun creative outlet to do in my spare time. Model making has always been my favorite part of the industrial design process. I’d say the hardest part was accepting that my paint job wasn’t perfect and working on such a small scale with delicate little parts makes it hard to nail the details (my fingers are too big, jk, but not).

Why did making an Olli at home feel like the right response to this moment in time?

It oddly felt very appropriate. With all of us stuck in our own homes everyone was turning to new projects and crafts. Whether it was baking banana bread, trying out watercolors, or making an Olli miniature it was a time to slow down and sink your teeth into a new project.

Do you think the office is making a come back?

I think the office is taking a hard look at itself and asking what should it really be, what purpose does it serve. Office in the sense of the community of people you work with has moved online through Zoom, and it allows people to work remote and all over. Office as the physical space will hopefully move away from large rows of desks and benching to something new and more relaxed. I think Olli is a great product to fulfill this changing time, allowing a highly configurable space not necessarily focused on the desk itself, but the neighborhood it can create.

What is your Olli made from?

The Olli core is made from a PLA 3D printed plastic. I used 1/8” brass tubing for the frames and butterfly post + aluminum from a beer can. All the “wood” is from our actual wrapped laminate samples and fabric from our Camira samples. The coffee table (not an actual Pair product) is a Pair metal sample with a wood skewer as its base. All the paint is from a collection of nail polishes to mimic powder coat. The plants you see are fresh from the garden.

Tell us about the setting you put your Olli in.

I wanted to try a few settings with my Olli that played on scale a little bit. My front steps have this great stone work that I thought was different and would provide an interesting background texture. On the porch is a large slatted wooden chair that added some warmth to the scene as well as “large wood pillar” that might be found in an old warehouse/industrial style office.

My other setting is a bookcase where you can really see the scale of the miniature. I thought this did a nice job of putting Olli into a familiar context while framing the scene. I also thought it was fun to use some design books or “basket weaving” books as the walls. The back of the bookcase was too white and bare, so instead of printing a small photo out or making a fake window, I thought it was fun to use an actual framed painting and art book opened to an interesting abstract design.

What kind of team can work at your Olli?

Anyone and everyone can work at my Olli

In process images from Elliot’s mini Olli:

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rkpuddington · 4 years ago

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Black Lives Matter.

Have decided now seems like a pretty perfect time for me to continue with the SF Stairway Walks project I started way back in December 2018, using Adah Bakalinsky’s book Stairway Walks in San Francisco (6th edition) as my guide. Since travel & other activities are pretty limited for me (as for so many of us) right now due to COVID, it’ll be one of my ways of adventuring at home for the rest of the summer.

I did 3 more walks this past week:

Tuesday, July 14, 2020: Russian Hill South

I really liked this one! It had some pretty impressive views of Alcatraz, Coit Tower, and the East Bay, and also some cool historical features, such as walking past an address where Laura Ingalls Wilder’s daughter used to live, and where the author herself came and stayed. Havens Stairway and Macondray Lane were particular highlights for me; I also really liked steep, multi-leveled Ina Coolbrith Park, where a fellow pedestrian noticed I was walking (and looking touristy) and recommended the Filbert Stairs over near Coit Tower to me. (They’ll be in a walk coming up soon!)

Low-points of this walk for me: Neighborhood Watch signs (to me, translates as a notice of automatic suspicion & potential violence towards anyone who seems like they “don’t belong,” based largely on their appearance & perceived race & housing status, etc.); the reminder that this, and other walks, are in all likelihood much safer for me as a white-bodied person than they are/would be for a walker of color, which is a part of my white privilege, which is part of the ongoing existence of systemic white supremacy, which is detrimental to everyone, and especially dangerous to BIPOC; and finally, being aggressively approached by a person’s dog when I was solidly in a public space and not remotely threatening them, followed by the owner not offering me a single word of apology for their dog’s behavior. (That was the third time something like that has happened to me since shelter-in-place began back in March, by the way! The first time was in Alamo Square Park, where a dog came running downhill at me out of the dog play area and pursued me onto the path where I was walking, yards away, repeatedly advancing & growling; I had to shout at the dog and was preparing to fight to protect myself, and the owner didn’t even acknowledge me by looking in my direction or saying a word to me. Some other couple nearby asked if I was okay! God bless them. The second time was in Duboce Park, where again, I was walking on a footpath and a dog approached me aggressively, advancing & barking from yards away; the owner offered me one half-hearted “sorry,” and that was it. Incidentally, in all three incidents the errant owners were older white women, for whatever that’s worth. I am SO sick of having close calls with dogs when I’m clearly minding my own business, and not having the owners give a shit! AGH. Okay. Thanks for letting me blow off some steam about that.)

After the walk, I browsed in Russian Hill Books for a bit before biking home; it was really nice to be in a bookstore again. Making a note of this b/c I want to remember to visit this bookshop again sometime in the future, when I’m actually allowed to touch things I might not purchase! I also want to return to this neighborhood sometime to try some ice cream from Swenson’s, the last point of interest on the walk’s route.

Some pictures from this walk (I’ve captioned a few; hover and/or click to view):

my view while enjoying my Peet’s coffee & Bob’s donut

cool ferns

more cool ferns – noted for their ferns

Coit Tower

Alcatraz

Entering the magic of Macondray Lane

Rose Wilder lived at this address.

Downtown & Bay Bridge.

steep

oldest (1857) octagon house in SF

ice cream parlor! must return

Friday, July 17, 2020: Twin Peaks Foothills

The definite top highlight of this walk for me was Tank Hill—WOW! The view from up there is THE best I’ve seen so far anywhere in the city. You can see all the way from the Marin Headlands & Land’s End on the left way over to a good chunk of the southern part of SF Bay to the right. It was incredible. And for a few blissful minutes, I had the hilltop viewpoint all to myself.

Most of the rest of the walk was fairly so-so. The Neighborhood Garden at the intersection of Corbett & Clayton was cool, but not new to me as I had already encountered it on the Upper Market Stairway walk in December 2018. The Pemberton Stairway was also really cool.

Some shots from the walk:

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Saturday, July 18, 2020: Bernal Heights East

Walked this yesterday with a friend. Really hot & dry over there right now! Definitely not my favorite stairway walk so far, and it was really steep biking/walking up to the start. But there were an abundance of community gardens (though they, sadly, don’t seem to be very well-tended right now, like, at all…?) and it was nice to have company. One of the shortest walks yet, too. Got one good view of the East Bay, and a couple cool glimpses of Sutro Tower half-swathed in fog. And there were plenty of stairways.

Afterwards, we went and ate at Progressive Grounds (they have a patio which can be safely open to customers right now), which is one of my favorite spots to eat in the city. I always get their Moroccan Beet Salad, and it’s always delicious.

Two pictures:

Not pictured: a cool seat made out of a stump that we came across in the “nice neighborhood garden” 🙂

SF Stairway Walks: Russian Hill, Twin Peaks, Bernal Heights Black Lives Matter. Have decided now seems like a pretty perfect time for me to continue with the SF Stairway Walks project I started way back in December 2018, using Adah Bakalinsky's book…

#Adah Bakalinsky #Bernal Heights #Russian Hill #San Francisco #SF Stairway Walks #Tank Hill #Twin Peaks

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micaramel · 5 years ago

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James Benning in Joshua Tree (December 25), 2011. Photo by Heinz Peter Knes

Artist: James Benning

Exhibition Title: Down the Rabbit Hole: JB in JT

Arranged by: Julie Ault and Martin Beck

In Collaboration With: O-Town House, Los Angeles

Note: at the request of O-Town House we have adjusted this project’s presentation.

Shortly after I arrived in Joshua Tree some three weeks ago, going into lockdown with Julie and Martin, we decided this was a perfect time to realize our plan for a James Benning exhibition of his works in their home. The idea for a private exhibition of James’s works here was hatched last Christmas, a time when the gang usually descends on Joshua Tree for some quality time at the kitchen table and in front of the fireplace. But now, considering the current circumstances, developing this exhibition as a virtual one seems to resolve several issues—of privacy, access to the public, and keeping busy and engaged with the world. Down the Rabbit Hole: JB in JT is conceived as part of a continuum with two earlier exhibition projects. The first, Tell It To My Heart, which traveled from the Kunstmuseum Basel to Culturgest in Lisbon and ultimately to Artists Space in New York, was an exhibition based on the artworks Julie has collected over decades, many of them the results of conversations and collaborations with other artists. The curatorial team was equally significant, and the project strove to develop a different mode of mapping the ways art and history touch our lives through relationships and collaborations. The second project in this lineage was inspired by the first, titled 31 Friends by James, for which he made 31 artworks for as many friends. The works were shown at the Marfa Book Company in Marfa, TX, and, after the exhibition ended, were given to their intended owners. James then asked everyone to send him a photograph of the works in their new homes. Those framed photographs were presented at O-Town House. James described 31 Friends as an “attempt to pay homage to the ability of art to produce community as opposed to just commerce.” The line drawn from Tell It To My Heart to 31 Friends to Down the Rabbit Hole is indicative of an ongoing effort to sustainably engage artistic practices and align the language around this work meaningfully with our lives. Down the Rabbit Hole brings together (nearly) all the artworks and some artifacts made by James that are distributed in Julie and Martin’s house and grounds in Joshua Tree. Many of these objects are on permanent display, others were unearthed from drawers and closets. Most objects we photographed as they are installed, others we staged, and, collectively, we put together an annotated checklist, supplying details about the work and some stories of how they came about. Picking up on the aspirations of Tell It To My Heart and 31 Friends, this exhibition also reads as a conversation. The works are listed in chronological order to make present the unfolding of friendship over many years; the show becoming an extension of ongoing collaborations with a view toward the future. Moments of recollection, such as Down the Rabbit Hole represents, become crucial to finding fresh ways of thinking about the role art can play in the construction of community. By drawing lines across time, as we rummage through James’s traces here at the house, together, we are taking stock, reviewing, and recounting the conversations that grew into plans and then into actions. Enduring interests and subjects, obsessions, and curiosities have become shared experiences and the medium with which we solidify our lives together.

— Scott Cameron Weaver

After Traylor, 2004 Colored pencil on cardstock Two parts 6 1/2 × 4 1/4 inches and 6 1/2 × 8 3/8

James often came to Joshua Tree around the holidays to visit our mutual friend Dick Hebdige. In 2003 they came over to our house a couple evenings. Sitting by the fire, James said, “I usually don’t like places like this, but I like it here.” I think he was referring to all the colors. When Dick and James came over the following Christmas, JB brought this wonderful gift. It seems reasonable to me now, but at the time, copying Bill Traylor imagery, and doing it well, was astonishing. (JA)

Two sugar pine cones (Pinus lambertiana) from Hatchet Peak near Pine Flat, ca. 2005 Approx. 11 × 4 × 4 inches each

When coming to JT from his place in the Sierras, James sometimes brings a couple of large pine cones with him. We integrated most of them into the landscape, and some have disintegrated over the years. These two we kept on a stand on the patio. They sometimes get blown off by the wind and we find them somewhere between the cactuses. (MB)

Clock, 2006 9 inches diameter Acrylic paint on clock

I needed to keep busy, part of my nature, so inspired by the many cans of paint in the garage (due to the many different colors used inside and outside of the house [what is it 36? I think it’s 42]), I decided to paint a clock I had just found in a local thrift store using a few of those colors. (JB)

Continue the exhibition after the jump.

AFTER JESSE HOWARD (DETAIL) J.B., 2007 Colored pencil on cardstock Two parts 6 1/2 × 4 1/4 and 6 1/2 × 8 ½ Pencil (verso of larger part): A MAN HAS NO RIGHT TO DEFEND HIS FAMILY DECATUR. ILL. OCT. 11. 1961 OF ALL THE UN=AMERICAN. UN=CIVIL- IZED WAY OF LIFE! ARREST: A MA- N AND THROW HIM IN JAIL! BECA- USE HE HAD NO PERMIT TO CON- STRUCT A FALLOUT SHELTER, FOR HIMSELF=AND=HIS=FAMILY. JESSE HOWARD

This was the second set of drawings made for this two-part frame. The first set was two Bill Traylor drawings (see After Traylor, 2004), but they looked rather silly so small, so I replaced them with these two truncated drawings of a Jesse Howard painting that I copied and is hanging in the replica Kaczynski cabin I built in the Sierras. I’m not sure what happened to the first set. (JB)

Once taken out of the frame, the first set, After Traylor (2004), was kept in the bottom shelf of a covered sideboard, visible right when opening its door. The unprotected drawings were vulnerable. This display, if one could call it that, always felt a bit treacherous and, recently, Julie packed the drawings in glassine and cardboard and stored them safely in the Christmas closet. (MB)

Freedom Club, 2009 Wood carving 2 × 9 7/8 inches

Kaczynski embedded a signature of sorts—the letters FC—in the bombs he made from 1980 on, and in the mid-nineties signed letters to public figures and editors FC. FC (Freedom Club) was supposed to be an anarchist terrorist group. Kaczynski’s 1995 letter to Scientific American is worth repeating: “Scientists and engineers constantly gamble with human welfare, and we see today the effects of some of their lost gambles: ozone depletion, the greenhouse effect, cancer-causing chemicals to which we cannot avoid exposure, accumulating nuclear waste for which a sure method of disposal has not yet been found, the crowding, noise and pollution that have followed industrialization, massive extinction of species and so forth…. We emphasize the negative PHYSICAL consequences of scientific advances often are completely unforeseeable…. But far more difficult to foresee are the negative SOCIAL consequences of technological progress. The engineers who began the industrial revolution never dreamed their work would result in the creation of an industrial proletariat or the economic boom and bust cycle.” This carving was a step in James’s process of furnishing his Kaczynski cabin. After a while, he replaced it with one reading FC, and I asked if I could have this one. (JA)

James Benning and Sadie Benning Untitled, 2010 Pencil on cardstock, framed Two parts (left part drawn by Sadie Benning, right part drawn by James Benning) Drawing: 6 1/2 × 4 1/4 inches and 6 1/2 × 8 1/2 inches Frame: 8 × 14 1/2 inches

This was the third set of drawings made for this two-part frame. I was going to continue to change the drawings for this frame, but since this is the only collaboration between Sadie and I, it seemed best to end the series here. (JB)

James and Sadie like to settle on the couch in front of the fireplace when they visit. One Christmas we got a new couch. Knowing that we wouldn’t be home when they arrived, and that they would immediately take their places in front of the fire, we wrapped a large ribbon around the couch and made it an in situ present to them. (MB)

After Traylor by J.B., 2010 Colored pencil on paper Drawing: 12 3/4 × 8 1/2 inches Frame: 21 1/2 × 14 1/4 inches Pencil on backing board: APARTMENT FOR PEOPLE TO GO AND THEN COME OUT UP A ELEVATOR AND THEN JUMP OUT THE WINDOW. ONLY THE MANAGERS CAN GO THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR. NAME OF THE APARTMENT IS “THE PEOPLE’S APARTMENT”. 100 PEOPLE LIVE IN IT, EVERONES THE SAME AGE, BUT SOME ARE 10, 20, AND 40. by VANESSA

Vanessa’s name is Vanessa Basilio. She was about eleven at the time, 2010. She was a CAP student. CAP is Community Arts Partnership. CalArts students teach kids in disadvantaged communities, and then the kids have a show at CalArts. When I saw her piece (house and text), I was most impressed and asked her if I could trade her an artwork for it. She was excited to make a trade, but told me she wanted to see what I could offer. I told her I could trade her a house for her house. The next day I met her and her mother, and showed her the After Traylor house. She really liked it and we made the trade, and I took a picture of her holding her house but can’t find the photo. (JB)

James made another version of the After Traylor (2010) drawing that he gave Vanessa for our house; he transcribed Vanessa’s description of her house on the frame’s backing board. A photograph of the work by Heinz Peter Knes, showing the drawing in context at the house, adorns the back cover of the first volume of Tell It To My Heart. Proofing the catalog, none of us noticed the image was reversed, the bird looking to the left rather than to the right. (MB)

(FC) Two Cabins by JB, 2011 Edited by Julie Ault Contributions by Julie Ault, James Benning, Dick Hebdige, Theodore J. Kaczynski, and Henri David Thoreau Designed by Martin Beck Published by A.R.T. Press, New York

I still intend to write something about the Two Cabins constellation and Thoreau and Kaczynski copies James gave me. (JA)

After Thoreau, 2011 Ink on chipboard, framed Drawing: 10 × 8 inches Frame: 18 1/2 × 15 1/2 inches

This is a copy of one of Henry David Thoreau’s many drawings that he made as the town surveyor of Concord, Massachusetts. The frame is tramp art from the 1930s. (JB)

The autodidactic orientation of both Thoreau and Kaczynski finds a correlation in Benning, who takes immense pleasure in learning. Ted Kaczynski created a numeric code to shield his most self-incriminating journal entries about his bombing campaign. JB meticulously copied the dense document and hung it in his Kaczynski cabin. He made a second copy for me, but it’s not in Joshua Tree. Empathy is palpable in his copies, and so is James, who leaves traces. I regard the reproduced TK code and the Thoreau survey as outlying companions linked by James’s acts of copying, thereby completing the triad of primary protagonists in FC: Two Cabins by JB. (JA)

intertitle study for Stemple Pass, 2012 Typewriting on paper 11 × 9 1/4 inches

I spent a few weeks working on Stemple Pass at the kitchen table in JT. This was made while I was working on the intertitles. I believe there is a photo of me doing just that, in the first Tell It To My Heart catalog. (JB)

Tell It To My Heart was an exhibition about the artworks given to and acquired by Julie over a few decades. For the catalog, the works were photographed in situ, “at home” in our NY apartment and the JT house, installed on the walls, packed up in closets, under the couch, in drawers, and other odd places. Some of the images didn’t even show artworks, just the environment. The only person appearing in the catalog’s photography is James, seen from behind, with headphones on, sitting at the JT kitchen table, editing a film. (MB)

After Beck 11 × 15 3/4, 2013 Acrylic paint on wood panel 11 × 15 3/4 inches

Martin gave me a painting of his that was hanging on the wall in JT. It was a painting that I always admired. I was going to make an exact copy of it and replace it in the same place. It proved to be too difficult for me to reproduce, so I made this painting instead. It was the same dimensions as the painting I tried to copy. (JB)

Back in 1996, I gave a painting I had made as an art student to Julie. It was the first painting I considered to be quite good and therefore was precious to me. Soon after we got the house in JT, the painting moved out here, which is where James saw it. Expressing his admiration, he wondered if there were others like it. I had a similar same-size one from that time in storage at my parents house in Austria. James and I then cooked up a trade: I would give him that painting and he would copy it for me. When visiting my parents next I took the painting to NY and sent it to him in the mail. Quite a few months later, at Christmas out in JT, James gave me his version of it. While James was working on the copy, Sadie painted a white version as a companion piece. Unbeknownst of the impending gifts, I had made two drawings, to give them as presents, one for James, one for Sadie, both saying “the same thing can be done in different ways.” (MB)

Thinking about the Unabomber, 1987/2014 Enlarged photobooth photograph, framed Image: 4 3/4 × 4 3/4 inches Frame: 12 1/2 × 12 1/2 inches

In 1987 a woman witnessed a man wearing aviator glasses and a hooded sweatshirt placing a package outside a computer store in Salt Lake City that turned out to be a bomb. The widely circulated police sketch made from her description was the first representation of the Unabomber. (JA)

The last year I lived in NYC, Sadie visited me and we went to Coney Island and made this photo in a photobooth. I was thinking about the Unabomber because a number of my friends and I thought the Unabomber might have been Leo Burt, the only person never to be arrested for the Sterling Hall bombing at the University of Wisconsin, in protest against the Vietnam War. In 2014 I re-photographed the photo. (JB)

Three Paper Airplanes, 2014 Signed contract; three one hundred-dollar bills, folded Laser print on paper, framed Print: 9 3/4 × 8 inches Frame: 12 1/2 × 10 1/2 inches Bills: 1 1/2 × 6 × 1 1/4 inches each

Julie bought this piece for $600 and paid with 563 single dollar bills. I then gave the three secretaries (the three women who keep the CalArts film school running) $200 each. The piece was in the spirit of Douglas Huebler—he was teaching at CalArts in the 1980s—and was one of the reasons I took a job there. I like his art very much, and he was an amazing guy. (JB)

For several years, whenever James needed a book for his Kaczynski library and research into artists he was copying, he asked me to scope out the possibilities online and order the books, since I had a credit card. This provided a productive exchange about the books’ contents and various editions. Periodically I’d give him the tally. On one occasion, he owed me $563 and paid me in one-dollar bills stuffed into a big envelope. Not needing the cash at that moment, I kept the reimbursement “as is.” A few years later, James told me about his paper airplanes made from one-hundred dollar bills and said he wanted to get more than their value to split the money between the three women that run the film department, who do a lot for him. So I pulled out the envelope and made up the difference to $600. (JA)

This work was really hard to photograph—it is usually stored in a protective box in a cabinet. Scott and I kept moving the paper airplanes around the house and tried about a dozen different settings until we settled on this one. Another image we shot looks very similar except that the hundred-dollar bills sit on a pink ground with a yellow glow coming in from the sides. Julie liked the green ground better, so we went with that. (MB)

After Ono by J.B., 2014 Photocopy, framed Print: 7 1/4 × 5 3/8 inches Frame: 11 1/8 × 9 1/8 inches

This is a reproduction of a call for entries by Yoko Ono for a show (This is Not Here) at Emerson Museum, Syracuse, NY, to open on October 9, 1971. (JB)

After Ono by J.B., 2014 Photocopy, framed Print: 7 1/4 × 5 3/8 inches Frame: 10 7/8 × 8 3/4 inches

After Warhol (smiling), 2014 Serigraph, silver and black oil-based ink on paper Print: 25 × 24 1/2 inches Frame: 26 1/2 × 26 inches

I love this sexy exuberant photograph of Andy Warhol, grabbing Parker Tyler’s crotch. JB made it in the spirit of Warhol, as part of a diptych, the other half being After Noland (smiling). I’m often amazed by the images and narratives James annexes and activates. (JA)

After Noland (smiling), 2014 Serigraph, silver and black oil-based ink on paper Print: 25 × 24 1/2 inches Frame: 26 1/2 × 26 inches

For quite a few years, I’ve been spending summers in JT, mostly by myself. The only friend who doesn’t mind the heat and visits regularly is James. During the hot days, we both work and tool around, he under the covered patio, I in the garage studio. In the evenings, I prepare food; he makes gin-and-tonics, we listen to music and talk about work and life. At first, I wasn’t sure why James thought I should have an image of Ruth Ann Moorehead (“Ouish” of the Manson girls). I know he likes Cady Noland’s work and I do too. I love the image and, of course, understand why he chose it. (MB)

Thirty-one Friends (October), 2015 Published by Marfa Book Company, Marfa, TX

In the years 2014–15 James Benning made 31 works of art for 31 friends, and produced a book, recounting a story of each friendship and describing the works created with them in mind. Some of the works referenced work by other artists—Andy Warhol, Marie Menken, Bill Traylor, Jean-Luc Godard, Jesse Howard, Henry Darger, Henry David Thoreau, Cady Noland, Robert Smithson, Jasper Johns, Miroslav Tichý, and Ted Kaczynski—inferring another set of (imagined) friends. In the summer of 2015, these works were exhibited together along with the publication at the Marfa Book Company, in Marfa, TX. At the show’s closing event, the artworks were removed from the walls and given to each of the friends for whom they’d been made. The works then traveled to places near and far—Bastrop, Texas, Duisburg, Germany, Sydney, Austria, downtown Los Angeles…. The final chapter of this project happened in 2018 at O-Town House, and consisted of the photographs James asked each friend to take of his gifted artwork in situ— gathered together from their disparate locations. 31 Friends represented a self-professed exercise in prioritizing the mechanisms in art that foster genuine examples of community. (SCW)

June 2nd, 1984, 2015 Acrylic paint on thermometer 15 1/2 × 2 3/4 inches

In the summer of 2015 James generously helped me with the shoot and edit for the Last Night film which is based on the records David Mancuso played on June 2nd, 1984, at the last party at the Prince Street Loft. To keep the sound clean we had to film with windows closed and swamp cooler off, making for a rather hot environment. To get a little break, one afternoon we went to the 99 Cent Store where James bought a thermometer. He painted it pink and, after thinking for a while what other decoration it should have, decided on June 2nd 1984. (MB)

After Chris B., 2018 Acrylic paint on match-head on nickel coin in wrapping paper 1 × 2 inches Edition 7/20

After Chris B., 2018 Acrylic paint on match-head on nickel coin in wrapping paper 1 × 2 inches Edition 19/20

I made this work in JT while recuperating from major surgery. (JB)

James was pretty under the weather after his surgery. We were all worried about his vulnerability and waiting it out. One morning I was going to the store and asked if anyone needed anything. James suddenly perked up and said he needed twenty nickels, some metallic paper, and a box of red-tip matchsticks. I couldn’t find red matches anywhere, only Diamond-brand green tips. He then asked for red paint and a small paintbrush and proceeded to meticulously color twenty of the green tips red. With his obsession and ambition restored, we knew he was recovering. (JA)

James made this edition as gifts for friends while convalescing under Julie and Martin’s and Dick Hebdige’s doting care in Joshua Tree, staying at their places a few days each, wearing the pajamas bought for him by Sharon Lockhart. The work was inspired by the 1979 installation, The Reason for the Neutron Bomb, by Chris Burden. The original work, now in the collection of the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, comprises fifty thousand nickels and match sticks, all placed on the floor in a grid, with the red match-heads all pointing in the same direction and the words of the title painted across the wall behind them. With each red match and nickel representing a Soviet tank, Burden’s installation spoke to the escalating arms race at the height of the Cold-War. (SCW)

Ault + Beck, 2019 Acrylic paint on wood board 9 1/4 × 23 inches Sign reads: AULT + BECK 9224 VIA ROCOSA PSALMS=148=8

Soon after we bought the house, Jennifer Bolande and Cannon Hudson stayed here for a few weeks. They were having some packages sent and, in order for the carrier to find the house, painted a sign showing our names and address. Over the years, the sun burned off the paint and made it illegible. When James arrived for the recent Christmas holidays, we asked him to make a new sign, which he eagerly took on, commenting: “Now I have something to do and don’t have to stare at the walls.” His sign uses Jesse Howard’s lettering and cites a psalm Howard included in one of his paintings. Psalm 148:8 reads “lightning and hail, snow and clouds, stormy winds that do his bidding.” The day after we installed the sign, it snowed—a rare and lovely occurrence in the desert. (MB)

Genius Christ, 2019 Acrylic paint on wood board 5 7/8 × 12 7/8 inches

In celebration of our favorite genius. (JB)

Love Saves the Day, 2019 Acrylic paint on wood board 10 7/8 × 12 7/8 inches

Once James finished the two signs and needed more things to do in order to stay busy we started thinking of other signs that might be needed. I asked him if he could make one for the garage studio, referencing the Loft and David Mancuso. We decided on the phrase Mancuso used on the invitation to the first Loft party in 1970. (MB)

JB has copied Jesse Howard’s signs for many years, and replica signs figure into his recent projects Found Fragments and Alabama. A hand-painted recycled license plate that hangs from a thick rusty chain crossing his driveway in Pine Flat reads: “POSTED Henry David Thoreau KEEP OUT.” For some time previously, it read, “POSTED T.J. Kaczynski KEEP OUT.” (JA)

Sketches for Genius Christ and Love Saves the Day, 2019 Laser print and pencil on paper 5 × 13 inches and 8 1/4 × 17 1/4 inches

These scraps of paper contain the scale calculations and printouts James used to transfer the sign layouts to the boards. They now are in the same place in the sideboard which the two-part After Traylor (2004) drawing inhabited for a long time. (MB)

after Darger (Welcome), 2020 Acrylic paint on garage door 6 feet 11 inches × 25 feet

This work doesn’t exist yet. James had the idea for it over the holidays but wanted to wait for warmer weather to paint it. We thought including a mock-up here might insure it happens—hopefully soon as he can safely come to JT. (MB)

We were all talking about the influx of people to Joshua Tree over the last few years and envisioning a message to anyone coming up the driveway who didn’t belong there that they’re in the wrong place (or, perhaps, the right one). Naturally, the Vivian Girls came to mind, and James had just the Darger image on his laptop to extract from, Second Battle of McAllister Run they are pursued. The section he plans to superimpose on the garage door shows Glandelinians bearing bayonets, hunting for the girls, who hide behind trees, as if to say: welcome to the realm of the unreal. (JA)

Images courtesy of O-TOWN HOUSE, Los Angeles

— Scott Cameron Weaver

Link: James Benning at O-TOWN HOUSE

from Contemporary Art Daily https://bit.ly/2Vr0Hq6

#micaramel

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