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the-archangel · 2 years ago

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V’s Christmas Presents

[Notes: I’m sorry (not sorry) but I unashamedly love this piece of festive fluff and couldn’t wait to share it with you. My only regret is that I’m rubbish at drawing and unable to create the photos described in the detail they have in my brain, I’ve tried through words but it’s not quite the same. The photo’s came first, I wrote the story to make sense of them, I hope you enjoy it.]

Christmas isn’t a big thing in NC. Outside, in the NUSA proper, folks might decorate their homes with lights or gather the family for a big feast, but Night City has enough garish lights, and over-indulgence – in all things – isn’t saved for one day. There are a few religious types who still honour the day in their own way, but generally it was an ordinary day, though you might invite friends around for a drink, or give the kids a few extra eddies.

Johnny Silverhand was sat with his boots up on the desk in V’s old apartment angrily bouncing a rubber ball from the floor to the bathroom wall and back again. He’d seen enough of Christmas to know it for the Corpo, money-grabbing fuckery that it was, but this year he was going to have to do something nice for it and that was making him mad.

Kerry Eurodyne had also experienced Christmas outside of NC, and knew it for the fluffy, twinkly, joyful time that it was and couldn’t wait to introduce V to the whole idea. For the last couple of years his input had been too sick for any festivities, firstly as the relic messed with his brain, then as he was recovering, so this year it was going to be special.

V couldn’t remember much about his childhood, or of anything much before the relic nearly took over his brain just over 3 years ago, but suspected Christmas hadn’t been a big thing. He’d read about it of course, seen pictures, but if Kerry was into it then he’d give it a go – like most things.

Gratitude didn’t come easy to Johnny, saying ‘thanks’ without sounding sarcastic was a trick that he rarely pulled off, but this year he had something to be thankful for. V’s tenacity and Kerry’s eddies had literally brought him back from the dead, and for that, goddamn, he was grateful. He wanted to get them something, something that showed them how he felt, but without him ever having to say the words (cuz even though he felt it, they would still stick in his throat), but what do you get the NC power couple who have everything? Between them, they had more power, eddies and influence than pretty much anyone in town, a fruit basket wasn’t going to cut it.

He had the beginnings of an idea, but no clue how to pull it off. He needed help; this is why he’s sat at V’s old laptop cursing and drinking tequila. Johnny was just ancient enough to remember the old days, when the internet was actually useful for buying stuff and finding people who did shit, but this NC intranet crap was grinding his gears and taking him around in circles. He started messing around, looking for a distraction and noticed a bunch of old messages still in V’s inbox. He shouldn’t look really, but what the hell, he’s seen them already when he was in V’s head, so what’s the difference? Mostly they’re dull, but one of them is from a name he recognises from those days, ‘Hmm, Judy...?’

Kerry has known what he’s getting for V for weeks; he absolutely can’t wait to start the preparations.

With just a couple of weeks to go to Christmas, everything is pretty much in place and Kerry can relax into planning the decorations for the penthouse and ordering the food and drinks for the big day which takes up most of the morning. With the afternoon comes a lift-packed with packages and boxes, and one happy rock star ready to get stuck into decorating every inch of the living-space. Reality sets in soon after and Kerry directs from the sofa as a couple of the building’s porters rush around with lights, baubles and greenery for a fat tip. Kerry looks around, the warm glow of the lights twinkle in his eyes, he can’t wait for V to see this.

V had no idea what Kerry was planning, either for the house or for his Christmas gift. He was vaguely aware that he should probably get something for his boyfriend, but he’d never bought a gift in his life and no-one at the Afterlife was any help, so the thought slowly slipped out of his mind. He was looking forward to getting home though, Kerry had messaged him that he had a surprise for him, and that was always something to look forward to.

‘Festooned’ isn’t a word that V had ever heard, but if he had that is what would be on the tip of his tongue as he steps out of the lift. Every nook, cranny and surface of the penthouse had lights, candles, garlands and trimmings all over it. There were three ceiling height trees around the living space lit with golden lights and covered with silver baubles as well as a full-sized golden reindeer in the corner. V stopped in the doorway and stared.

“Well, what do you think?” asks Kerry, running towards him with tinsel wrapped around his waist.

“I think.....” V swallows, “I think it’s the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He says spinning Kerry around and pulling him in by the tinsel for a kiss under the mistletoe.

With a week to go, Johnny’s plan is coming together. Once he’d explained to Judy who he was, and she’d got it off her chest what she thought of him, they actually worked quite well together. Judy helped him find what he needed and he would pick out what was important and then she’d help him put it all together how he wanted it. He was surprised how much he enjoyed the process and thought that he would ask Judy to show him more of what she knew after this as an added string to his bow in his new merc life.

Kerry and V had invited him round for Christmas, at first he wasn’t sure, not his scene playing happy families, but he owed them, he even kinda loved them, so he agreed. ‘Definitely gonna delta as soon as I give them this though.’ He thought to himself.

That evening, the three friends go out to a restaurant, just because. It’s something that they make time to do every few weeks or so, otherwise V and Johnny would only see each other at work and Johnny would try to avoid seeing Kerry at all (guilt issues amongst other things). Kerry goes out onto the balcony for a smoke and to look down at the city, he’s joined by a good-looking, well-dressed corpo type, clearly out to bag themselves a millionaire rock star – or a story for the screamsheets. V watches quietly as Kerry chats and flirts...

“Doesn’t it get you mad?” asks Johnny, looking down on the scene.

“...No, not mad. I mean, who wouldn’t want to try it on with him? As far as they know he’s fair game...” V drifts off, still staring at the Rockerboy (his Rockerboy) below.

Kerry’s relationships had always been fodder for the screamsheets and feeds, but his relationship with V had pretty much flown under their radar, though there had been rumours around for years that he was attached, and some very rare photos of them together, they had both been very careful to keep their relationship private from all but their close friends. This was partly because Kerry was done with bullshit invasions into his private life, but mostly because V’s involvement in the 2077 Arasaka takedown was something that still could get him flatlined if he was discovered, so a low profile was necessary to keep them both safe from retaliation.

The friends watch as Kerry finishes his cigarette, makes his excuses and winds his way back to their table.

“They seemed nice” Johnny sneered.

“They were I guess, but also drunk, boring and grabby, ugh.” Kerry replies wiping a wet handprint off the front of his jacket with a napkin. “Let’s delta, I’m done.”

Finally, it's Christmas Eve, V and Kerry have given themselves a few days off and are sharing a cigarette, curled up together still in bed. “I’ve got a photo shoot booked in for this morning, I’ll get the coffee while you get a shower”, Kerry tells his confused input before kissing him on the nose and jumping out of bed.

“I thought that you’d cleared your diary”, V says trying to hide the disappointment in his voice, “...and why am I coming to your photo shoot?”

“You’ll see!” Shouts Kerry from the kitchen. “Just get in the shower and wear something... nice.”

Johnny’s surprise for his friends was ready. It’s better than he had imagined and he just wished Judy was actually in NC to give her a big hug, though when he’d told her this she didn’t look too keen now he thinks about it. Anyway, for the first time in forever Johnny Silverhand is actually looking forwards to Christmas.

Christmas morning arrives... and then disappears again. Kerry is gently snoring in V’s arms and Johnny is passed out in V’s old bed well into early afternoon. V opens one eye sleepily as he hears the concierge and porters downstairs bringing in the food and drinks Kerry had ordered and then snuggles back into him smiling, it’s just too cosy to get up from. A little while later, Kerry awakens and looks up into V’s face, he’s still wearing the stupid, beautiful smile he’s had on there since yesterday, this is nova, but there’s stuff to be done, so with a kiss, he slides out of bed into the shower, gets dressed and then goes downstairs and gleefully unpacks the various, exotic and eclectic foods and drinks that clutter the dining area. When V finally emerges some time later, Kerry is putting on the finishing touches to the table, V slides his hands around his waist and kisses his neck,

“Merry Christmas Ker.”

“Mmm, Merry Christmas to you too baby.” Kerry purrs as he turns in his lovers arms, frames his face in his hands and kisses him deeply. Johnny is due in a few minutes so they keep it together – though it wouldn’t be the first time he’d walked in on them – not by a long way.

Johnny arrives uncharacteristically promptly and swaggers out of the lift before taking off his shades removing his cigarette from his lips and looking around the room. “Shit Kerry, did a glitter factory explode in your condo? “

“Very funny, here sit down; I’ll get you a drink, tequila, bitters, splash of beer and a chilli twist yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Johnny replies, still looking incredulously at the decorations covering every surface.

“So V,” asks Johnny while Kerry fixes the drink, “what did you end up getting him for Christmas?”

V rubs his wrists absently and thinks back 14 hours or so ago to being tied to the bed with Christmas ribbon and Kerry discovering a massive gift tag tied to V’s dick reading ‘To Ker, do not open til Christmas, All my love, V xxxxxx.’

“Erm, .....”

“Drinks!”

Johnny sees the look of relief on V’s face and knows him well enough not to ask again.

Kerry returns with drinks for them all, and with plates of food all of which he plonks onto the coffee table before sliding onto V’s lap and nuzzling into his neck, V squeezes him tightly and they whisper together, smiling and looking into each other’s eyes.

Johnny is pretty used to them kissing in front of him and patting each other’s asses, but this PDA is unusual even for them, if it wasn’t so sappy, it’d be quite sweet in a nauseating and gross kinda way.

To break the tension – that only he is feeling – Johnny leans forward and blurts, “What was this gift you were so excited about giving V then Ker?”

Kerry and V look at each other and smile with raised eyebrows, “Didn’t you see it yet? Christ it’s everywhere...” Kerry giggles. “Put the Entertainment News Network on, Shit Johnny how have you not seen it??”

“Been busy sleeping off a hangover...” Johnny replies as he blinks on the feed.

“.......Rock superstar Kerry Eurodyne has delighted fans this morning with a rare update on his much discussed relationship status, though some might be disappointed to find he is now officially...taken! These gorgeous photos were published to his website earlier today...”

The holo shows two photos, both artfully shot in mostly black and white, the first is of the back of V’s broad naked shoulders, Kerry is looking over V’s right shoulder with an intense stare right down the camera, V’s head is down and Kerry has one hand gripping the hair on the back of his neck and the other flat on V’s back. The only colour is the blue of his eyes, the gold of his implants and of the only jewellery he is wearing, a broad gold ring studded with emeralds. V has ‘mainline’ written across his shoulders in eyeliner.

The second is of Kerry’s back, V’s face is discreetly hidden in Kerry’s neck so that only the top of his head can be seen and Kerry’s head is turned towards him, his cheek in his hair, one of V’s hands clutches Kerry’s naked butt cheek, the other grips his back, as if it’s about to scratch down, the only colour here is a matching, dark platinum, sapphire ring on his left hand and ‘mainline’ written in red lipstick down the middle of Kerry’s spine.

“...this is all so ‘on brand’ for Eurodyne, but damn him for being so mysterious. Who is this lucky mystery man is what we all want to know...”

Johnny flicks off the feed and looks over at them, only now noticing the matching rings and resisting the urge to tell them it looks like an aftershave commercial he says, “So, are you two getting married or some lame shit? Cuz if.........”

Kerry laughs, swinging on V’s neck, “God no, never again.”

“No way,” V agrees whilst nibbling on Kerry’s ear.”We’re just....” he shrugs as if looking for the right words, “each other’s forever,” he finishes grinning down at Kerry, who gives him an indulgent smile and a kiss on the chin.

“And this is for you Johnny.” Says Kerry as V slides a box across the floor towards him.

Johnny could count on his one good hand how many presents he’d had in his adult life, this was unexpected.

“What is it?” he says staring.

V laughs as Johnny picks up the box and looks through it.

“Some psychofan in The Glen had all that in his apartment, do you remember? I was sent there to klep Kerry’s guitar, but you talked me into taking all this other stuff...”

In the box was disks, posters, a couple of old DVD’s and a pair of Johnny’s old leather pants. He held them up, looking at them critically.

“I sure as shit have some style don’t I?”

Johnny was getting more sure by the second that his decision to give them their gift and delta was the right one, this was all getting too sweet and sickly for his tastes.

“So... I made you this.” He drawls throwing a paper bag with the top folded down in the couple’s general direction.

V catches it and looks inside, he looks at Johnny quizzically, then up at Kerry, before showing him what’s inside the bag.

“Start them at the same time, have fun and...Merry Christmas.” He mutters almost angrily, unused to showing such displays of emotion.

V and Kerry pluck a BD wreath from the bag, each with a shard already loaded. They put them on and shift in their seat until they are lying curled around each other, with a last look into the other’s eyes they switch on....

The first scene has no sound, but shows a teenage Kerry in his bedroom, playing a song on his acoustic guitar with his black hair falling over a face screwed up in concentration, listening for the chords, finding the music. Next a loud, screaming chord makes them both jump and they’re in a garage, Kerry, still only a teenager is playing with his first band, already better than the much older guys that he’s playing with. V is mesmerised by the confidence of the young man’s playing and by the depths of the brown eyes that he was seeing for the first time. A time jump and Kerry gasps as they’re there the first time he meets Johnny, both sat crossed legged ignoring the party going on around them, sharing a cigarette, playing guitars and laughing, then on to Samurai’s first gig, V almost can’t believe how beautiful Kerry is with his hair cascading down his back, now held from his gorgeous eyes with his trademark bandana. Song follows amazing song as the BD flips through Samurai’s various looks, tours and back catalogue, until a montage of Kerry’s solo stage work ,makes V grin and hold onto his mainline all the tighter. The film finishes with a clip that Judy must’ve taken at some point, but that V didn’t really recall. They’re sat in some diner, she asks him why he’s not eating and he looks up at her biting his lip and smiling,

“I’ve met someone Jude, it’s early days but...we just get each other. I think...I think I’m in love.”

It takes a moment for them to remove the wreaths, Kerry is the first to look across to where Johnny was sat, but registers no surprise when he sees he’s gone. He looks down at V smiling,

“Let’s go back to bed.”

[Note: ‘Mainline’ is a term that’s not much used in CP77, though it is in the RPG, if you’re not sure, it means a serious, long term partner.]

#kerry eurodyne x male v #cyberpunk kerry #v cyberpunk #kerry x male v #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk 2077

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downinflamesforever · 4 years ago

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fearless is very like 1989, but it is also very like reputation, and also like lover, and like folklore/evermore, and yet it is also very much itself, it’s fearless

#like it's 1989 in that it has such joyful production over such intense emotions #it's reputation because it's so self questioning but the teenage version #and it's lover because it's unashamedly about being yourself and expressing the very spectrum of what being in love means #and on top of all that it's absolutely a 2008 album which is #pure country and rooted in taylor's life #but it's also so young that a lot of the songs are both her own life and of stories which have collided which is so folkmore

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cuinnamonbun · 4 years ago

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The brothers being accidentally in love with the Muslim even though they can’t be with them... would they lowkey convince the MC or would they sulk lol

(Say if it goes for both ways, MC is a hopeless romantic lowkey lmao)

OOF. So much angst. This one is a real brain teaser, I had to read SOO many tragedy poetry and fics to get the feeling so excuse the sentimental writing LMAO. A bit of warning though, I feel as though the brothers are OOC in this which is seriously messing me up, but I didn’t want to leave you bare-handed!

I feel like this HC requires a bit of context in order for people to understand why I wrote the brothers’ reactions the way I did. So I’d like to iterate the fact that I, too, am a hopeless romantic and I definitely believe love can change even the most difficult man. I’ve always had this HC in the Obey Me! universe that every creature is fallible and that the brothers, once fallen, are now much more vulnerable to these new emotions than when they were angels since they’re no longer bound to the service of God y’know?

So with that in mind, onwards to the HC!!

p/s: I’ll post the little brothers’ reactions soon, hope you liked this :)

How the Brothers React to Accidentally Falling in Love with a Devout Muslim MC (Big Brothers)

Lucifer

At first, this man will pursue MC for not-so-wholesome gains (cough corruption kink cough). Lucifer is a very decisive man. He knows what he wants and unashamedly goes after it and he will stop at nothing until it’s rightfully his

But in his pursuit, I could see him actually, really, really falling in love with MC

It’s their pure, kind soul that attracted him initially as with all the other demons, but the more time he spends with them, the more he gets sucked in until all he wants and craves is MC

It’s almost heart-warming if not a bit concerning

However in his chase for MC’s affection, Lucifer would forget one crucial detail: MC is a Muslim, one whom is devout especially now having seen angels, demons and hell right in front of their eyes and when he accidentally witnessed them praying, he will just shut down and instantly remember that they are not meant to be

To put it simply, it’s illogical for them to even be together

When the realisation dawns on him, he immediately turns a full 180 and become a massive dick to MC, even borderline cruel that shocks the brothers

If MC confessed their love to him, Lucifer’s heart would soar in happiness, but his pure, unadulterated love for them would force him to push them away and tell them that he doesn’t reciprocate their feelings

But I could also see his Pride taking factor into this.

A prideful demon such as he, who willingly defied God and fell from Heaven, he would absolutely REFUSE to have his partner so dedicated to God.

It won’t sit well in him at all and it will absolutely leave a bad taste in his mouth

But this doesn’t change the fact that he’s still in love with them, a fact which he DESPISES and is DISGUSTED by

When they left the Devildom, Lucifer would do what Lucifer does best: repress his feelings. That, or take it out on Mammon lol

But seriously though, he would need an outlet for his anger, heartbreak and yearning and he would most definitely drown himself in work or by punishing his brothers.

He can pretend all he wants that he’s fine, but Lucifer’s cues are pretty easy to read especially since MC has managed to get the demon brothers’ to bond with and understand each other deeper beyond surface level (a miraculous feat, kudos to our MC), the others can definitely tell that there’s some serious repression going on

But Lucifer gets very snippy whenever the brothers try to help him with it, which irritates the HELL out of them and they would be too annoyed with him to even bother helping him now

Now that his pride has driven away both the very person whom he loves and his brothers, Lucifer will become even more withdrawn and far, far lonelier than he was before MC came into their lives

Sometimes, he curses the circumstances that led them to him, even if they were the best thing that ever happened to his family

Yeah, heartbroken!Lucifer is just ;((( (Alexa play bitches broken hearts by miss billie eilish)

Mammon

This man is a capital S simp.

Mammon gets attracted to anything shiny/pretty REALLY easily (after all, it’s one of the main reasons why his symbolic animal is a crow) so him being attracted to MC at first didn’t really come as a surprise

I think he knows the difference between finding someone attractive and actually being in love with them despite having never even fallen in love before

He’s lived for centuries and plus, his own sister loved a human, he’s certain he has never felt that for anyone before

Him realising that he’s in love with MC would definitely come as a shock to him though. This tsundere can deny it all he wants, but he can’t deny the fact that MC’s mere presence alone gives him serenity and cardiac arrest at the same time

His initial reaction when he comes to terms with it would definitely be to flee and avoid MC like they’re the plague. But this man pines and when he does, his sin will flare up and MC will find themselves with a very clingy Avatar of Greed by their side

To Mammon, being in love is the equivalent of stepping outside of your home for the first time in weeks and feeling the gentle warmth of the Sun caressing your skin

He is gentler, more compassionate, and more attune to MC’s feelings. He definitely places them above Goldie because they are his most prized possession, the keeper of his heart, the rarest jewel and like everything he treasures, he takes extremely good care of them. But he would NEVERRR let MC or his brothers EVER know about that (sike, everyone knows it, he’s so soft for them it’s so obvious. They find it endearing though)

Which is why when he remembers that they’re Muslim and that they worship God, the very deity he curses and rebel daily against, his heart would break

He isn’t stupid (well, not all the time), he’s lived in the Celestial Realm before. He has seen the humans who reside there once they pass their mortal life. They were infinitely exuberant compared to the ones who were condemned to a lifetime of punishment in the Devildom for their sins

And he could never doom them like that, it would hurt him to see his love miserable and depressed down in the Devildom even if he would want nothing more than for them to be together forever

So, he would bottle up his feelings and try his best to live in the present and enjoy what little time he has with them, even though he felt like that entire year passed by in a flash (which, in demon years, is most definitely like the blink of an eye)

If MC reciprocates his feelings, I can picture him being so, so joyful about that fact, but he knew that their romance is a tragedy right from the beginning. He is a fallen angel, he can’t change his nature and he has transgressed against God in the worst possible way; by swearing eternal enmity towards Him.

I can’t picture him getting over them, even after they’ve passed and are thriving in the Celestial Realm

omg I'm gonna sob Alexa play Smile by Juice WRLD

Leviathan

We all know that Levi thinks of MC as his Henry, his number one best friend

And he’s right. There were no instances of their hangouts being anything more than platonic

When he first started falling for MC, he’d deny it like Mammon did

Him? In love with his best friend? Preposterous.

Eventually he’ll come to realise it though because they were probably watching hilarious videos on the Internet (cough Buzzfeed Unsolved cough) and Levi was so distracted because he was just staring at MC laughing suuuper hard at the video in pure awe. Like his lil demon heart just went doki doki

Pure joy is so beautiful on people and seeing it on MC?? They were pulchritudinous

But even after coming to terms with it though, Levi becomes SUUUUPER shy and embarrassed about that fact that for the first few days, he avoided them because he couldn’t compose himself in their presence

Eventually our beautiful demon of envy will snap out of it by MC cornering him and tearfully telling him that they miss his company

So now they spend even more time together and Levi will slowly become more confident around MC

This means soft, shy touches turn into ‘accidental’ brushes against them then to full lingering touches until finally, he becomes confident enough to throw his arms around them in a hug

Unfortunately, depending on the gender identity of MC, this may not fly all that well

In Islam, contact between opposite sexes whom you have no familial relation to/are not married to is considered a sin (I can elaborate in another post if anyone is interested in it though) and MC will have to politely turn him down, but this doesn’t mean that they hate him. It’s far, far from that

They have to be gentle in their explanation to Leviathan. This man’s self esteem is so low that if MC were to ever recoil from his touch, it would send him into a shame spiral and self deprecating thoughts that is much, much worse than before

So MC will have to remind him that they are Muslim, that they are bound to the services and will of God.

This reminder will destroy him though and his sin will absolutely consume him

He would become so, so envious of God that someone as amazing and wonderful as his MC is so dedicated to Him, and in his envy, comes wrath.

Though his wrath is not as potent as Satan’s, it is enough for him to act irrationally and ruin his friendship with MC

He just couldn’t stand to be around them because all he wanted to do is to hold them, kiss them and love them and his envy for them will become too much that he will start to breakdown because of it

I do picture him being a yandere though with his being the Avatar of Envy. If MC returns his feelings, it might be best that they keep it to themselves and not make it known because this man WILL latch on to them and never let them go

He would absolutely turn them against God if it meant he gets to be with them for eternity even after they die

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me mammon x mc #obey me levi x mc #muslim!mc #obey me x muslim!mc #swd lucifer #swd mammon #swd leviathan #wow levi's went from super wholesome to super dark real quick #angst

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blehbleehhhh · 5 years ago

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Can’t Resist (ft. EreMika💋)

"I have a prompt: Eren knows Mikasa gets flustered when he's shirtless, and he takes that to his advantage when seducing her." Can you really blame her? 😜 I want to apologize AGAIN from the bottom of my heart for pulling this story down to edit + repost. 😣❤️ Not to worry, I didn’t change too much, hope you enjoy anyways and had and/or are having a great Holiday, no matter what you celebrate!

It's a dazzling Sunday afternoon and Mikasa's sitting at her desk feeling immensely flustered as she watches Eren push the lawnmower directly outside her bedroom window. She had been studying for a big Chemistry test that she has tomorrow morning, but he's deliciously shirtless and oh so distracting. There's no way in hell he isn't completely aware of what he's doing right now, because she remembers a particular conversation that they shared this morning very fondly where he had approached her in the kitchen carrying a mug of fresh coffee for his mother, wondering what plans she had made for the day. She felt her cheeks and the tips of her ears begin to burn as she watches him through the window in utter awe over how incredibly muscular he is while still being so lean - how impressively they seem move together beneath his sun kissed skin while he forces the mower up the short hill in their yard. Mikasa taps her long fingernails on the desktop and forces herself to look away from him as her mind becomes inundated with even more embarrassingly sexual thoughts, like her current favorite of simply getting bent over the desk while he makes love to her from behind. She bites her bottom lip and allows her eyes to wander outside once more, where she can see that her boyfriend now wears that star's brightness like a halo as he chugs what remains in his water bottle that had cleverly been tucked behind the waistline of his basketball shorts. Sweat sparkles on his chiseled abdomen from those powerful rays above and she couldn't help the heat radiating from her core when he suddenly looks her direction. Eren flashes his signature smirk and winks as he crinkles up the water bottle, then secures it small with its lid the way he always does before ultimately tossing it into the recycling bin. Ugh, he's so gorgeous. She giggles to herself and slowly waves to him with all of her fingers, tearing her eyes away immediately as a warm pulse throbs pleasantly between her thighs. She turns her attention back out the window with immediate disappointment to see that he's now missing from the backyard. Needless to say, she panicked at the mere thought of another woman seeing him without a shirt, so she practically bolted out of her room and ran down the hallway. She skids to a stop in her socks and watches her ridiculously attractive boyfriend push the lawnmower across the front yard through one of the windows. She sighs, feeling slightly irritated with herself that she's giving in to his stupid game this quickly. But when Eren isn't wearing a shirt, all bets are off for her to control herself and he definitely knows that. Mikasa couldn't help her grin no matter how desperately she attempted to fight it off as she marched herself down the porch steps, and it nearly plasters in place when he finally notices that his beautiful girlfriend is trying unsuccessfully to look so angry. And it's honestly pretty cute. He smiles, feeling quite proud of himself as he turns the mower off in one swift motion. "Jaeger." She greets him with a small, coy smile as she quickly closes the space between them.

"Hey, Acker -" Eren groans as he's pleasantly interrupted with her lips and she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer. He chuckles into their kiss as he traps her tightly in his loving arms, perfectly content to be making out with his girlfriend in the front yard where anyone can see them. Though she sometimes loathes kissing in public it truly didn't matter once everything around her soon slipped away and his lips became her only focus. They're so incredibly soft and smooth against her own that she could easily kiss him all day if there weren't chores or homework to be done. And the best part? She knows for a fact that he feels the same way about kissing her. Their lips come to a gradual stop as she grows increasingly aware of her surroundings all over again and it made the tips of her ears burn hot to match how self conscious she feels. She pulls away to meet his eyes and he knows instantly from that look precisely where her mind is at. And he's totally on board.

"Okay, that's it. We're going back to my room and doing it right now." Mikasa says loud enough for only him to hear and smiles wide as she takes his hand, lacing their fingers together with a gentle squeeze. "Come on, Eren." She giggles, taking pleasure that he's clearly eager to be dragged across the front yard and up the porch steps. He smirks as he locks the door behind them so nobody would see him catch her in his arms, or bouncing her up once to get a better grip beneath her thighs. "You big, sexy jerk!" She gently bumps their foreheads together and chuckles softly as she gives a rapid succession of kisses to his grin. "You knew that I would be studying.." She smiles against his lips as he carries her down the hallway to her bedroom like she weighs nothing, allowing her kisses to slowly wander down his face to give his neck the same treatment. It's the excessive squeezes to the underside of her thighs and his carotid beating faster on her lips that reminds her how much he definitely does enjoy having this done, no matter how much he often prefers to say otherwise. Pfft, you don’t have that much power over me in here. He would say with a smile knowing that the opposite is true, even when she’s doing something as simple as kissing his neck and gently twirling his hair with her fingers.

"Why do you think I asked you what your plans were?" Eren smirks as he closes the door with his hip and carefully set her on her feet, already being brought closer with promises of much rougher kisses at a pace that neither could really maintain. He was more than happy with allowing himself to be pulled forward until they collapsed on the bed together and his slender waist was captured between her long legs. She giggles softly as his lips kiss down from hers to focus on her neck the way that she has always loved since they started dating only a few years ago. Freshman year of high school was a big year for the couple, that's for sure. "You taste so sweet, Miki." He breathes to the soft skin of her collarbone as he slides his hands under her shirt to rest them on her perky, braless breasts.

"I want you so bad that my panties are absolutely soaked.." Mikasa whispers seductively and giggles when she feels his lips smirk on her skin, lifting her arms up over her head for him to remove the old t-shirt she had stolen from his dresser that swallows her petite frame. She smiles coyly as he rises up to look into her eyes and tosses her shirt over his shoulder somewhere unseen. He flashes a devilish grin as his hands move to the start of her sleep shorts, pulling them down slowly along with the panties that she wears. She bites her bottom lip and raises her lower half as what little clothing remains on her body is slowly removed. With her legs temporarily in the air, he's now free to gently tug everything passed her feet so she lies before him completely naked. Those dazzling gray blues wander unashamedly to the bulge in his basketball shorts as she allows her legs to slowly lower once more. She can't help but crave him.

"Damn babe, you're just..." Eren smirks, watching her intently as she eagerly reaches for the waistband of his shorts and boxers to peel them down. "Painfully gorgeous." He observes her joyful expression in amusement as his erection is finally freed at its full strength, a sight that never fails to make her blush with excitement. She gasps softly and lovingly gazes up into his eyes as she slowly reclines back in bed.

"You're one to talk, you know. Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror?" She grins as she spreads her legs wider for him to crawl up between them and purrs her appreciation when he rubs his tip on her swollen bud.

"Thank god my parents aren't home right now." He chuckles lightly and smirks as he gently pushes into her, already hissing under his breath because she feels so incredible.

"Ohhh, give it to me.."

"With pleasure." Eren smirks as he leans in to kiss her and was pleased to be rewarded with a soft moan in his mouth. He felt her hips move gently against him and it was his cue to proceed, though he couldn't the amusement that she's begging him to do her. When he set out to do his chores this morning, he didn't actually anticipate that she would cave to the extra one he had given to himself, at least not this quickly. Why, he hadn't even been out there for more than an hour when she finally dragged his ass inside. And here he is now, kissing every inch of her soft skin that he could readily reach like it was his first time. His thrusts start slow and immediately increase in their intensity, sending her into a fit of uncontrollable pleasurable sounds. "Agh, fuck." He grunts as she wraps her limbs around him, and the depth change is so incredible that they both moan loudly. She nestles her fingers in his soft, brown hair and grins as their hips move together even faster.

"Erennn!" Mikasa cries as her insides begin to quiver through orgasm. "You're so big.." She giggles amidst her moans that are inconsistent in pitch and delicious to his ears.

"Well, you’re insanely tight," His lips smirk, making the skin on her neck prickle in response. "And so wet."

"And it's all for you..."

He sighs pleasurably.

"Say that again."

"Oh yeah?" She moans to him as she allows her hands to slowly wander down his amazingly muscular back. "You wanna hear me say that I'm all yours?" Mikasa's nails claw into his sweaty flesh as he slams his entire rod in her and whimpers happily, writhing beneath him from the overwhelming climax he’s triggered within her. "I'm yours! I'm yours forever!"

"You're goddamn right you are!" Eren groans, pumping hard into his girlfriend twice more before he decides to switch gears entirely and rotate his hips in a slow circle to hit all of her favorite spots. "I have to control myself. I'm not ready to finish yet." He chuckles breathlessly as he lifts his head to meet her gaze and their smiles collide in a sweet, loving kiss. They roll over as one and she was quick to anchor her legs on either side of his thighs before rocking her hips back and forth. He groans deeply in appreciation as his hands wander her smooth legs and come to a stop on her hips, guiding her faster against his lap. She squeals with delight into their kiss and pulls away to gaze down in his eyes, carefully cradling his handsome face in her hands.

"Oh! Oh!" Mikasa smiles as her eyes roll back and buries her face in the crook of his neck, surrendering complete control of her lower half over to him. In the next instance, he was pressing her hips down on his lap and thrusting up into her as fast as he possibly could. She moans uncontrollably in his ear and lightly strokes his cheeks with her thumbs as he wraps his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of her shoulder. Suddenly, she breathes a most erotic sound and climaxes hard much to his amusement, holding her tightly as she writhes violently on top of him. His movements slow considerably and her mind regains it's ability to form coherent thoughts once more. "More. I-I need more.." She whispers in his ear as she slowly grinds on him and lovingly nibbles the most sensitive spot on his neck, which only proves to serve as a trigger to get him guiding her again. Mikasa places her hands on his chest and grins as she rises up tall, watching a wide smile of contentment form on his extremely kissable lips. He knows exactly what's coming next as he crosses his arms behind his head, that she loves to take over like this. And he's happy to entertain her desire to ride him. For now.

"You're so fucking gorgeous. Have I ever told you that?" He smirks and gazes up at her lovingly as she begins to slowly rock her hips, sending them both into a state of euphoria all over again.

"Mmm, only every day since we started going out..."

"Good, that means I'm doing my job."

"You definitely know how to make me feel super sexy, that's for sure." Mikasa grins as she pushes her hair away from her face and grinds faster, achieving a dreamy moan from deep in his gut as her reward.

"Fuck, you're so hot, Miki!" Eren chuckles and hisses pleasurably as she shows off her talents, riding him at a consistently fast pace. He smirks when she leans her head back and moans loudly, feeling powerless to his own eyes snapping shut. From the many variations of delightful sounds that she makes to the gratifying sensation of her climax pulsating around his sensitivity, he knows that he's a goner. Especially since she always manages to maintain a fast pace in this position through her climaxes. It wasn't long until he was hissing at the intense pleasure and the couple were gazing into each other's eyes once more as he helps her to sit up, permitting his length to fall out erect against his abs. Mikasa smiles seductively as she reaches down to gently hold his length and jerks him off enthusiastically until it explodes all over her hand. She giggles that he's actually moaning as she rubs the sensitive tip and finds herself addicted to his sounds because she loves hearing how good she's making him feel. He inhales deeply and sighs to stabilize his breaths, smiling wide as he watches her brings her hand up to clear away any evidence of him with her mouth and her tongue. "Seriously, you're so hot."

"It’s not like it tastes that bad.." She grins as she drags her tongue along the top her hand to clean off his goop and he sits up to wrap his arms around her waist.

"Gosh, can't you just take the damn compliment?"

"Heh, I'm sorry, thank you.."

"I have tons of compliments tailor made just for you." Eren smiles as he kisses her forehead and she chuckles softly in response, sucking what's left of him from the tip of her finger. "I mean, you could be wearing a paper bag on your head and I'd still think that you're exceedingly adorable." He slowly moves his hands up her back and brings her closer for a loving embrace as their lips meet for another deeply passionate kiss.

"Oh my gosh," She mumbles cheerfully between kisses as she gently tangles her fingers in his soft, brown hair. "I love you so much..."

"I love you so much more," He couldn't help but laugh as he's suddenly pushed flat onto his back and pulls her with him, making her giggle excitedly to be laying on top once more. "I promise." Eren smirks when she presses her lips to his for one tender, loving kiss and lightly strokes his cheek with her thumb.

"Heh, I guess you should go finish up the yard before your parents get home, huh?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

"Boo.." Mikasa gives a playful frown and plants a kiss on his grin. "That's okay, I can wait for you to be done. I'm pretty much studied out at this point, so.." She trails off as she sits tall on his lap and smiles, pushing her hair away from her sweaty face seductively. "I'll be in here waiting patiently for you like a good girl."

"Actually, I was going to hop in the shower after I get done outside," He chuckles as he sits up to kiss her on the lips. "You're welcome to join me if you wish."

"Hm, that's very tempting. Can we...?" She bites her lip as she slowly walks two fingertips up the center of his chest.

"Do it again? Of course." Eren smirks and seals the deal with a kiss as he reaches up to carefully push her long fringe away from her face. It's safe to assume that such a shower and the evening itself will be a long one. But this is what he gets for taking off his shirt.

And he's not at all complaining.

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fanfictionized · 5 years ago

Text

The Hating Game - Devil’s Charm (3)

Characters: Lance Tucker x Latina!OFC

Chapter Summary: Lance won’t stop trying for her and things heat up because he’s literally the most honest person she’s ever met.

Warnings: Flirting more like... one-sided dirty talk

Words: 2.4k

The Hating Game - Masterlist // Previous Chapter

He’d been anxiously awaiting to see her again since the last time they spoke.

Four days already seemed too much time without seeing her.

Without seeing her ass, he meant. Yeah. No, just her ass.

He sighed deeply as he ran a hand through his unkempt hair, getting into his bathroom to put a shitload of gel into it.

Was he attracted to her? Absolutely. He’d told her too many times for it to be obvious.

But there wasn’t just something about her curvy form that made his head spin from the sudden blood-loss as it shot down to his dick.

Not just her perky tits and round ass that made him want to be buried between her thighs until he’d fucking suffocate.

He liked how much smaller she was compared to him, looking up at him every time with a glare after having told her another cocky joke.

He liked how feisty she was as she defended herself the best she could by throwing a string of full-blown curses at him which he couldn’t understand, but it didn’t really matter because anything that left her puffy lips was like fucking music to his ears.

He felt his dick twitch just at the thought of it and he stared back at his reflection through the mirror.

“Pull yourself together, Tucker.” He whispered to himself, shaking his head before smoothing his hair back into place, licking his lips and grabbing his keys before he was heading out to the gym.

“One last spin, then we’re wrapping up.” He said, forming circles in the air with his fingers, watching intensely as Ana covered her sweaty hands with chalk once more, clapping them together until a cloud emerged from her actions.

She jumped to grab the bar, swinging until she was holding herself up on it.

“Keep your toes pointed, like- yup, that’s it.” He remarked as she was spinning around on that thing, mastering every obstacle he gave her with flying colors, better than any other girl her age he’s ever trained and that should mean something.

“Voila” He said with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as she landed gracefully on the blue mat. She was even happier.

“Yes” She whispered to herself, balling her hands into fists in victory.

“Did you see that? Uh-huh…” She hummed, beginning to dance on the spot, a few old disco moves that were carried out so uncharacteristically awkward that it had him laughing at her dancing skills.

“I did. Good job, kid.” He praised her, earning himself a grin reaching from ear to ear.

They turned around when they both heard clapping echoing through the hall of the gym, Lucia running towards them as she had an equally big smile on her face.

“Oh my god, that was awesome!” She came storming in, handbag hooked under her arm as she approached the two of them.

It was the first time he’d ever seen her hair up in a ponytail, her black curls hanging down to fall onto her shoulders, a black bandana tied around her head to keep the hair out of her face.

His jaw clenched as he forced a smile onto his face, heart racing at the sight of her.

“High-Five!” She laughed and Ana squealed as she clapped her hand against her sister’s.

“She did real good.” Lance agreed, gulping down the lump in his throat as Lucy bent forward in front of him, Jeans so tight around her ass he was afraid well… afraid? the fabric would rip.

“Hey, why don’t you go change and we’ll go celebrate at Ricardo’s?” She asked Ana with a wink and her sister nodded excitedly before jumping off into the changing room.

“But don’t make her eat too many carbs or we’re back to zero.” He muttered, earning himself an eye-roll at which he could only chuckle.

“She’s a growing girl, let her eat some goddamn pasta, Tucker.” She grumbled, yet she couldn’t hide the faint smirk playing on her lips, still facing the changing room instead of him. He knew it was on purpose.

“I’m just sayin’. The girl really has some potential.” He added, the comment making her look back at him with her brows raised hopefully.

“She’ll never let me watch her do this stuff… I know she’s good, but… how good are we talking about here?” She asked, genuinely curious in how her sister was doing.

“Well” He said as he stood with his legs apart, arms crossing over his chest as he eyed her.

“She definitely has a talent. I’d say she’s one of the most talented kids I’ve ever trained.” He concluded, making her eyes light up with joy.

She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from letting out a cheerful squeak. His eyes were immediately drawn to it.

There was a longer silence where he was still watching her closely and unashamedly and she was no idiot- she knew he was staring her up and down, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting to it.

“So…” He began, licking his lips as he stared at her face.

“Don’t even say it.” She spat back at him, knowing exactly what he was about to say, which made him chuckle darkly, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Come on, just one drink.” He inched closer, his scent once again hitting her like a fucking train.

“Jesus Christ, how much freaking cologne do you use on a daily basis?” She turned to face him with a quizzical eyebrow hovering high on her forehead.

His grin only widened at seeing her get all defensive again, or… only when it came to him.

It was kind of cute.

“You don’t like it?” He asked sassily, raising his eyebrows back at her.

“You smell like a goddamn pimp.” She clicked her tongue, lips pursing as she gave him a bitchy stare.

“Aw.” He pouted sarcastically, moving closer until he was standing right next to her, watching her take a deep breath only to see her face contort at the smell of him.

“Girl, I can smell like whatever you want me to smell like.” He drawled lowly, making her forehead wrinkle with confusion.

“What the hell’s that even supposed to mean?” She retorted and he simply shrugged.

“Whatever you want it to mean.” He wiggled his eyebrows and for the first time he saw her laugh a real laugh. More like a giggle before she covered her mouth with her hand to mask her amusement, but it made him feel strangely proud at the realization of him having done this. Having succeeded at making her happy even if it was for just a second.

“You know…” He began, having thought of his next words because he didn’t want her adorable dimples to fade again.

“I- I know it must be difficult sometimes, taking care of your sister by yourself…” He started, her smile not yet fading, but her head tilting to the side as she listened.

“Ana told me you’re living by yourselves” He added as he saw that confusion appear on her face.

It took her a second to respond, processing his words until a less joyful laugh slipped past her lips.

“Yeah. She told you anything else?”

“No… she doesn’t reveal a whole lot about you. I guess there’s a reason behind that.” He mumbled, grinning as he watched her reaction.

“Ya think?” She chuckled and crossed her arms, but his eyes stayed on her face for the first time ever instead of wandering down to her chest. Even she noticed that.

“No, but really, I mean it. It’s impressive how you deal with all that pressure” He cleared his throat, shifting on the spot almost uncomfortably.

“She can be glad to have you as a sister.”

He was not the guy to make small-talk with a woman he wanted to fuck. He was one to flirt and make comments, but not like this.

Never like this, so… casual…

And it was like the reminder switched a switch in his head, shifting to panic as soon as he didn’t hear her curse at him or saw her rolling her eyes at him because, no… this time there was something else in her eyes as she watched him.

Something like… affection. Or at least close to that, but even the thought of that, the surprise at having seen that look on her for the first time- the first time it’s meant for him…

It was plain and simple a reaction out of blind panic.

“Also, your ass looks fucking amazing in those jeans, by the way.” He added, making her snap out of the lingering gaze to roll her eyes at him and scoff before she turned on her heels to head for the exit.

She was shaking her head as she went.

“Una vez…” She hissed “This one time I think you’re trying to be normal, you do this shit again.”

“Hey, okay, I’m sorry.” He said before catching up with her, placing himself in front of her so she would stop running. She was miraculously fast for being so little.

He had to laugh at seeing the look on her face.

“You know, not really sorry, but…” He took a deep breath, rolling his eyes as well before continuing his already rare apology.

“You are a good sister. You should be proud of that.”

“I am.” She was back to her bitchy attitude.

“That’s why I’m not going out with you.”

“Oh, come on, darlin’. I know we’d have some fun, don’t you say?” He chuckled darkly, keeping his equally dark eyes on her.

Diablo. That sexy bastard.

A grin tugged at her lips as an idea shot through her head.

“You mean fun like you and Nicole?”

And with that his smile faded a little, wavering enough to make his confident façade crackle. But it was enough. Enough to make her laugh at seeing his baffled expression.

“Oh, please. I’ve seen the way she looked at you.” Lucy winked at him, a knowing smile on her face because she had him right where she wanted him.

“What do you want me to say?” He pursed his lips after clearing his throat.

“Yes, I fucked the nurse. Who cares?” He threw his hands up in the air, but at seeing the glimmer of disappointment strike her features, he tried again.

“Seriously. Who cares?” He raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Well, I sure as hell don’t.” She shrugged.

“Then prove it. Go out with me.” He said cockily.

She let out a humorless laugh.

“Sure. So you can fuck me and parade me around like you do with all the girls? With fucking Nicole?” She let out an unbelieving chuckle, spitting out her name like it was deadly poison.

“Guys like you are so full of shit. Think you can have it all, huh?”

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in despair of not knowing how to build a fucking sentence anymore.

He needed to get his thoughts together and his cockiness back on track.

“First of all… trust me. You wouldn’t regret a night with me, babe. I would make you cum so hard you’d fucking see God before I’m even layin’ a damn finger on you and that’s promise.” He whispered the last part close to her ear while he drank in her reaction like sweet, sweet syrup being poured down his throat because seeing her speechless was so fucking satisfying.

He loved the way she was trying not to show any reaction, but the way her eyes went wide and she swallowed hard was telling him everything he needed to know to continue.

He smirked.

He had her right where he wanted her.

“And I’m saying that ‘cause you’re no regular Nicole.”

And he meant every word of it.

“You’re so fucking sexy my pants get tight every damn time you come marching in here with those tight-ass jeans, with your hair and your smile and your big, round eyes… do you have any idea what that does to a regular guy?”

She had stopped breathing a while ago, her face feeling way hotter than before, like she’d suffocate under a mask of heat and sweat, her heart beating in her throat.

“What I’m saying is that… you’re a beautiful woman, Lucia.” He let her name roll of his tongue, slowly and sinfully, eyes hooded as he leaned into her, his voice only a rasp, coated thickly with arousal.

“And I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be showing you off ‘cause you’re the hottest girl any man could only ever dream of fucking.”

Her core was pounding almost painfully, eyes huge and probably betraying her real feelings she had wanted to hide so badly, but she was kind of busy not rubbing her thighs together or letting out a fucking whimper at hearing those unholy words slip past his lips like he’d had them on his mind for a long time.

Because maybe he did…? Oh, he so did have this speech prepared.

Or she was just more into him than she’d ever anticipated.

She was still looking up at him completely in shock, not blinking nor talking because she couldn’t even begin to form a decent thought that made halfway sense and which didn’t include her internal screaming.

The tension was filling not only the little space there was left between them, but also the entirety of the whole gym which made her mind work at full blast and the hairs on her body stand on end.

She was seriously thinking of ending this terrible silence by simply pressing her mouth to his, her gaze flicking down to his lips for really just a tenth of a second because maybe it’d make it less awkward and just solve everything that was holding them back…?

But thankfully, her sister burst into the hall once more to take that terrible decision from her.

“Let’s go! Ricardo’s!” She sing-sang happily, snapping both of them out of their lust-filled trance before she faced her sister with the about calmest expression she could manage in that moment.

“Yup, I’m… we- let’s go.” She stuttered and Ana only sent her a weird look, which Lucy promptly decided to ignore because she literally had bigger things on her mind.

Number one priority: Getting as much distance between her and the devil himself before she’d make a pact she couldn’t step away from.

Taglist: @culturespark

#lance tucker #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker x ofc #ofc #the bronze #reader insert #Eventual romance #eventual smut #eventual fluff #sexy bastard #fanfiction

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pauls4thoughts · 4 years ago

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Bruce Springsteen: Letter to You review – a sledgehammer of succour

Recorded live with his seven-piece band, Bruce Springsteen's 'Letter to You' is a passionate, brilliant and unashamedly old fashioned and stirring album. It is full of Springsteen bingo: trains, rivers, the edges of towns and women called Janey; a number of things are on fire.Things start out with Springsteen in intimate, solo acoustic mood on the beautiful "One Minute You’re Here".

Picking his guitar as a “big black train” comes “down the track”; rueful in the face of death. It’s scuffed, tough and soft: equal parts blue-collar Jersey boy and stadium-filling rock star. The lyrical theme - which runs through the entire record - is mortality. Three songs are old – one, the excellent "If I Was the Priest", so vintage that Springsteen played it at his 1972 audition for Columbia’s A&R John Hammond. Another, "Janey Needs a Shooter" nearly made it on to several Springsteen 70s albums. This update turns a nuanced portrait of a love hexagon into a mid-paced thumper, sacrificing the song’s sexual intimacy for a piano and harmonica-laced singalong.It’s the new material that really catches fire.

The band blaze through “Ghosts” and “House of a Thousand Guitars” which soars above the lot. Driven by the supple rise and fall of a hymnal piano melody, the song is a commentary on songwriting. It’s an album about dead comrades and pulls generously from his blue-collared dreamworlds - trains, rivers and the act of going down to them; panegyrics to small towns, to New Jersey, to Mama and the sheriff and the car and the gun - and looks backward at his legacy with all the mist, glory and dew of memoriam.

Down two members of his canonical E Street Band - saxophonist Clarence Clemons and keyboard player Danny Federici - as well as surviving every other bandmate of his first boyhood act, the Castiles, questions of erosion and preservation seem to be top of mind.

While Bruce Springsteen was performing Springsteen on Broadway, his former teenage bandmate, George Theiss, was dying of cancer. Well before the E Street Band, there were the Castiles, an incubator where Springsteen first played guitar, then sang, from 1965 to 1968.

As the end neared, Springsteen held a vigil at the North Carolina bedside of his former musical sparring partner. When Theiss died, Springsteen became the only surviving Castile, a realisation that spawned a new song, "The Last Man Standing".“One minute you’re here, next minute you’re gone,” he breathes, as the various members of the band assemble like light-footed superheroes – the muted piano of Roy Bittan, the subdued thrum of drummer Max Weinberg and bassist Garry Tallent.

'Rainmaker' rips into Trump, but with a superb allegory about “unloading buckshot into low clouds” during a drought. The powerful title track distils the essence of Springsteen messaging down the ages.

The album ends remembering the departed, dangling the prospect that they live on in our dreams. Dearly departed souls whose talents and presence and laughter and hard work played a part in something truly beautiful, but who are no longer around to carry the torch along with the rest. ‘Ghosts’ addresses this, and it does so in a typically Springsteen-ian way. That is to say: It reaches directly into my chest and it wrings my heart. That pain is evident throughout, yet it’s shot through with that signature life-affirming power - that huge, absolutely massive yet totally organic big band sound - that the best Springsteen songs have.

It’s heart-breaking yet rousing, melancholy yet wonderfully joyful and defiant. It’s a beautiful tribute to friends departed, shared memories keeping them alive, and the feeling of still being here while others have passed.The album reflect a man confronting his own mortality and the life he’s led. Forty seven years after Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J., Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band are still making vibrant, brilliant music, and "Letter to You” captures their undeniable artistry.

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tdowning79 · 4 years ago

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Day Five: Family and Friends Focus on the needs of others by praying for family and friends Sometimes it takes a crisis to move us from focusing our prayers just on ourselves to focusing them on others in our lives. For me, one of those moments came after a difficult season in which my middle son suffered a birth injury that doctors said would forever impact what he would be able to do. Like any mother would be, I was devastated and riddled with fears of the struggles my boy would face. In a moment in which I could have turned inward to my own feelings and anxieties, the Lord used that time to grow me in my prayer life for my child. I asked the Lord, unashamedly, and repeatedly, to move in ways medical doctors said were impossible. And in many ways, God did. Learning to talk with God about the people we love most is a way for us to care and help in situations that seem hopeless. Many times we make comments like, “Well, I guess all I can do is pray…” as if prayer is a last resort rather than a first response. Praying for friends and family is the greatest thing you can do to help, serve, and love them. So today we look outside of ourselves and at the lives of those around us. Who is struggling with a physical ailment? Who needs hope in the middle of a trial? Who has been blessed in a way that we can praise God for His kindness? Start with thinking about your family tree. Go through your spouse, children, parents, siblings, and extended family and talk to God about each of their needs, challenges, and joyful moments. Then move on to your friends, the ones who know you best, the ones you work beside, and the ones farthest away from the Lord. Be systematic in your approach. Start from those closest in relationship to you and work your way out. Say a prayer for everyone you can think of, from that co-worker who drives you absolutely crazy to that aunt who has prayed for you throughout the years. Talk to God about the problems you wish you could solve in the lives of those around you that you know you can’t. Ask Him to step in where you’ve been trying to fix things for others and trust Him to work in their lives as much as He is in yours... #morningdevotional https://www.instagram.com/p/CFwmPa9nL6k/?igshid=vspe52rjcdzt

#morningdevotional

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tattooed-merwin · 7 years ago

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Tattooed Merlin Headcanon

He was always a rebellious creature, even as a child. His love of country, bred into him just like every young boy from Scotland before him, was not strong enough to overcome his desperation to despise his father’s music collection, including the bagpipes. So when he was sent off to boarding school and a mate introduced him to country music, he fell instantly in love. He discovered many firsts with this mate; her name was Yvaine and she rebelled against her mother, who loved fantasy stories so much she’d named her daughter after the Lady Of The Lake. She smiled in such an openly joyful fashion; there was no curve of the corner of her lip, no shy batting of the eyelashes. She was always completely unashamedly happy to see him. In addition to country music, Yvaine taught him about many things; she taught him to ski. She taught him to read tarot cards. She taught him how to grieve when his brother died in a car crash that almost took his baby sister from him too, and when they were done getting smashed on the cheapest whisky they could find, she took him to a tattoo parlour and started a new obsession that would remain with him just like the country music.

His first was small, not very ambitious. It was a small sail boat on his upper arm with his brother’s birthday written in the sail. It was that night that he learned that the deepest pain can be made better with that buzzing discomfort, and the only cure for death was watching a needle carve beauty in to his skin so he could feel alive. A week later, Yvaine taught him about sex. The whole affair was messy and awkward and wonderful, and he was halfway to what he thought falling in love felt like when he went on vacation with her family and met her brother, James. By the time he had made up his mind to let Yvaine down easy, she had been the one to catch him panting on top of James with kiss swollen lips and eyes brimming with tears of pleasure and pain. The rest of the trip was tense and they barely spoke after that, and when he found himself in the chair again, this time for 6 hours on line work alone, the artist carved the wings of the dragons she absolutely did not believe in, in to the breadth of his shoulders. When his grandfather died, his family crest was added to the inside of the arm that held the sailboat, and when he became an uncle for the first time, a wild mare with the colours of a Scottish sunset in her mane made her mark on the right arm.

This continued until Merlin was 25 and playing music in any place that would have him, hoping against hope to have enough money to go a performing arts school. The night he realised that dream wouldn’t come true, he emptied his savings adding “Don’t dream its over” to the last remaining free space on his arms. The result of this was that his arms were completely covered by the time he was asked if a middle class farm boy from Scotland wanted a job as a spy. He glanced down at his arms, and thought of a Yvaine, and decided he’d try anything once.

He made it through the training alright, and after coming in first but being less of an adrenaline junkie and more of a pyromaniac than they’d like in an agent, he is offered a job shadowing Merlin, the quartermaster and gadget creator of Kingsman. He takes it, and doesn’t think about the itch bubbling undetected in his veins until Merlin retires and Hamish ceases to exist as the title becomes his. He is warned about the rules, about the isolated lives Kingsmen lead, and he signs on the dotted line, calm as can be. The second he is out of the shop, he bolts on foot to the nearest shop. He doesn’t even pause to consider he’s breaking an unspoken contract he has accidentally made with himself to only tattoo his arms and shoulders. He walks out an hour later, “Take Me Home, Country Road” adorning his very tender ribs. The words are a promise that one day he will see the rolling green hills, and roaring waves, at least once more.

He dedicates his life to what it means to be Merlin so completely that when he meets a young man named Harry, who has a sweet smile and deadly eyes, asks what his name is, he has almost forgotten. “Hamish McClaen,” he says, and Harry smiles like Christmas has arrived in July. Shortly after they meet, Harry’s Uncle Gregory, who was Arthur, is taken out in a failed attempt on Harry’s life. Chester King becomes Arthur and immediately demands that Merlin conceal his tattoos beneath appropriate attire. He refuses to wear the suits, but sweaters prove to be comfortable, and enough of a rebellion that he is satisfied with himself. The next morning, Harry holds his hand while a beautiful lion standing proud and victorious is added over Merlin’s right hip. He realises very quickly that he can’t get ink every time Harry faces danger or he’ll run out of skin and money, even on his rather large salary from Kingsman, but for years to come, Merlin has a love/hate relationship with his “the first time I almost lost Harry” tattoo. The urges to get more ink come and go, and he gives in when he sees fit. Sometimes it’s when they lose an agent, sometimes he waits until after the training process.

Just once, it’s both.

The wheels touch down and the sun sets on Merlin’s time being alive at the same time as Harry Hart, and he walks back in to Kingsman with the boy who saved the world, but not before they stop at the shop down the street first. The pain and the adrenaline are still coursing through Merlin’s veins when he sits in the chair and has “It is my duty as a Knight to sample as much peril as I can” added to the space beneath his left pectoral muscle. Eggsy doesn’t ask; he’s seen Monty Python, and he looks at Merlin as they both wonder silently if the name Galahad was always worn like a middle finger to death.

But then Merlin gets another; months later when Eggsy is finally added to the table as the new Galahad, and the second person to occupy Merlin’s heart as comfortably as he occupies the space to the right of Arthur, Merlin walks back in to the shop for a second Galahad tattoo. A line work tree on his spine, beneath the wings; the foundation of his existence, decorated at the roots (in that patch of skin that just barely shows when he stretches and his sweater lifts, that Eggsy can’t get enough of) with the hopeful words, “O just and faithful knight, Ride on! the prize is near.“ Knowing full well he left out the part about God, he shows his young knight his tattoo and knows that this young Galahad is not a knight belonging to God, but to Kingsmen. To Merlin. It’s in the gasp Eggsy lets out at seeing his favourite patch of Merlin’s skin dedicated just for him, that Eggsy’s whole life is engraved with words of praise for the older man just the same.

Eventually, when they have a day off, Merlin takes off his shirt and stops Eggsy before the lad can enthusiastically entice him to bed. He asks him to sit, keep his hands to himself, and he tells him the stories behind each piece. He shows Eggsy his life in the pictures he wears, and Eggsy watches, stunned and enthralled, and Merlin feels for the first time, like his tattoos had a purpose beyond Yvaine (wherever she may be now), and rebellion.

Like maybe somehow he had known that he wouldn’t find his love until later, and he wanted to be able to help his attentive darling understand him a bit more, and the tattoos were a reminder of all the bumps and joys that had brought him to the day they looked at each other and said “yes”.

Or maybe he was just grateful in way he couldn’t possibly express that Eggsy loved him, and had a bit of an ink kink, to boot.

#kingsman #headcanon #tattooed Merlin #merlin #eggsy #merwin

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i-read-good-books · 8 years ago

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fic for victuuri week day 6!

I’m late! So sorry but i am a busy bean. The rest will be coming soon. This is based off @tanaw (who is awesome) ‘s reincarnation au art (so go check that out!)

Title: in another life

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: about 5.7k

Summary:

Yuuri doesn’t know how long they stay there, frozen in that moment, how long he thinks about the things he wants to say to Victor, the things he wants to say - not now, but in time, as he grows to know him better. How long he thinks about the fact that he truly wants to know him better, that he’s letting his soul be touched by someone for the first time in years.

He doesn’t know how long they stay there, a knight and a mage - the unlikeliest of companions - but he does know he never looks away.

Link on ao3: here

Full fic under the cut

They meet in the heat of battle.

The mage comes to his aide when he’s surrounded by fire and deafened by the screeching of evil spirits near the eastern waterfalls. There’s a whirl of blue ice suddenly, stepping between him and his enemy and just a flash of teeth in a quick smile. Their movements match the other’s effortlessly, a predetermined partnership weaving itself as they dodge attacks and try their best offensive, sweat dripping from both their brows.

It’s been twelve years since the fight against the nymphs began; three since it became serious enough that the roads aren’t safe. People say it takes a dozen men to take down one of their basic spirits.

They do it between the two of them in under ten minutes.

“What’s your name?” the mage asks, lips curling into a smirk. There’s no trace of the spirit left, just the residual faint smell of rotting apples in the air, the most surefire way to know if nymph magic is involved.

He looks up from where he’s leaning against one of the rocks that make up the waterfalls. It’s almost impossible to hear him over the wind and the rushing water, but somehow the mage’s voice reaches him without trouble, clear and strong. He has an accent. The knight wipes his sword against the rock on instinct, sliding it smoothly; it doesn’t have any blood - spirits don’t bleed -, but old habits die hard.

He meets the mage’s eyes, and smiles, slightly shy. He hasn’t seen a mage that powerful in the last decade, and certainly not one that beautiful and kind enough to help him when he was in need. “I’m Yuuri.”

“Yuuri,” the mage repeats, his voice curling over the syllables like he’s licking honey, savouring every drop. He has an accent, his consonants resonate in a way he’s never heard before. The mage smiles back at him, relaxing his smirk, and holds out his gloved hand, “Hey, Yuuri, I like you. I’m Victor.”

…

“Oh my god,” Yuri groans, burying his face in his hands and pretending to barf. “What the hell is that bastard doing?”

“Who are you talking about?” Victor smiles, moving to ruffle his hair and pouting when the teenager hisses at him, recoiling and raising his arms to protect himself. He’s in that age. “Did you make a skater cry again?”

“Stop bringing that up, I was twelve the last time it happened,” Yuri groans, as if it wasn’t simply three years ago, but a distant era in the past. Victor will never get over how teenagers measure time. “And I’m talking about Yuuri Katsuki, otherwise known as a walking fucking disaster.” He grabs Victor’s shoulder, shaking him a little, and points him in the direction of the ballroom, where people are gathering to chat, forming small groups that are divided into which complexity of English one can speak, and if they’ve known the other skaters for some time. Following Yuri’s finger, he looks in its direction.

Victor’s eyes go wide, jaw dropping open. His breath hitches.

Yuuri Katsuki (he’s heard of the name before, a champion in Japan - great step sequences, last place this final) is dancing.

He’s dancing, completely free, in front of all the exhausted athletes and expensive patrons. His hair is messier than it was during his programs, a bit longer now, which Victor thinks is a great improvement, and it’s far easier to notice that his trousers fit him almost ridiculously well when he’s moving around without the edge of nervousness competition brings. Every aspect of him seems liberating; his shirt buttons are undone, his eyes shut, and his hands are clapping to the music, following the rhythm perfectly.

Honestly, Victor thinks, he looks like he’s having the time of his life.

Before his eyes, Yuuri lets out a short, delighted laugh as the music picks up, sinking to his knees and jumping back up in a sudden movement, receiving a loud whoop from where Mila is talking to her friend. Yuuri notices and waves at her, winking and falling to the floor again with expert control.

Victor can’t help but think, He’s beautiful.

On cue, he takes his phone out, giggling like a schoolboy, “I’m taking a video of this.”

“To share online?” Yuri raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t think you were that cold, Nikiforov. The guy’s drunk off his ass.”

“Um,” Victor doesn’t say, No, I wanted to take a video so I can watch it during my lonely, lonely nights and cry about how pretty this man is. “Yeah, I won’t share it. Just - for other stuff.”

Like crying. And debating whether or not to send him a Facebook friend request at 2 am.

The young skater huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “And anyway, it’s pretty fucking sad.” He turns his nose up, “That dancing’s terrible.”

Victor smirks, “It is?” Frankly, he thinks it’s absolutely mesmerizing and yes, zoom in, Victor, good man. He yelps, excited, when Yuuri starts jumping around, humming and smiling. “So you think you could do better?”

Yuri frowns at him, scoffing, offended, “I know I could do better.”

“Hm,” Victor flutters his eyelashes. “Can you prove it?”

The skater’s eyes narrow.

It takes him ten more seconds of innocently sipping his glass while struggling not to drop his phone (that’s still recording), and then Yuri is marching up to Yuuri Katsuki and break dancing it out.

Victor’s laughing like he hasn’t in months; snapping pictures, clapping along when either of them manages a pretty risky move, and politely awwwing for Yuri when he loses, rubbing his shoulders in reassurance. Well, what did he expect, going up against such an obvious master of the craft? God, Victor needs to fan himself after watching Yuuri Katsuki slide on the floor without a care in the world. The only thing missing is a stripper pole.

It’s maybe because he’s thinking about Yuri, wondering if he’ll develop an eternal grudge against Katsuki, or because he looks away from the man for a few seconds to steady himself (don’t embarrass yourself against a king, Victor, this is your only chance to look good!), that he doesn’t notice Yuuri standing in front of him until he turns around to find him waiting there.

Their noses are almost touching.

Yuuri smells like champagne, and sweat, and he’s panting, blinking rapidly. He has the hugest smile on his face Victor’s ever seen, something so purely joyful that it tugs at his heartstrings. Clumsily but firmly, he bows a little, wobbling as he goes down, and holds out his hand, beaming, “Dance with me, Victor?”

He’s got a slight accent, and his speech is slurred from being drunk as fuck, obviously. This is silly, and there’s people here who pay for Victor’s livelihood who probably don’t want to see him dance it out with the person who got last place, no matter how much Victor doesn’t care about that. Plus, he doesn’t know the guy at all, really, he could be a jerk who just dances really nicely.

And yet, Victor, feeling like his heart might burst from his chest, doesn’t hesitate before taking his hand, breathing out, “I’d love to.”, and letting himself be led.

…

Victor and Yuuri get to know each other slowly.

It’s not easy to travel, even if it’s in a small group and the both can pretty confidently take on several enemies at once. The roads are solitary, slivers of grass growing between the stones in the path, marking the fact that they haven’t been stepped on for months. Weak nymphs and their basic spirits are everywhere, showing up at the most inconvenient of times; transforming the mere act of bathing in the river or managing to stop and eat a chore that makes Yuuri’s skin prickle with alarm, his heartbeat quickening. It’s quite understandable that he doesn’t chit chat much.

But being with Victor the mage and not speaking to him seems something akin to a crime, for him.

“You know,” the mage murmurs, hands curling around his hood. The inside of it is covered with pale furs, glowing next to his creamy skin. “You haven’t told me your story, you know?”

“You haven’t asked,” Yuuri mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat. He’s been hunting for nymphs for as long as he can remember, training until daybreak to strengthen his muscles, sharpening his reflexes without rest - and he gets tongue tied whenever Victor smiles at him. Sometimes he gets unbearably embarrassed about his crush. “It’s not that interesting, anyway.”

“Let me be the judge of that?” Victor asks, voice soft. Around him, small snow crystals glow into existence before melting and falling to the ground. It continues to amazing, this way in which Victor displays his magic openly and unashamedly, despite what some think about mages.

Trying to be courageous, Yuuri gives in, “I lived in Hasetsu all my life. I was there when the attack happened.”

The mage frowns, his blue eyes colouring with concern, “That’s not… Japan?” At his slight, sombre nod, his expression tightens, alarmed. “But it was destroyed by the nymphs.”

“Aye,” Yuuri sighs, fingers grasping his sword’s hilt. “I remember. Lost my horse, my money, and my home. Thankfully, my family survived.”

I considered Vicchan to be family, he doesn’t say, keeping his voice level. He’s learnt to be tough, after fighting with Mari to defend their home, temporal as every place they stayed in was. Now that they’re no longer together, now that Mari defends their parents with her archery and Yuuri has chosen to travel alone, he has to fend for himself. She can’t coddle him anymore.

“I’m glad,” Victor says firmly, taking him out of his thoughts. He moves until they’re almost beside one another, stopping and standing in front of him, mouth slightly parted.

Yuuri blinks; Victor doesn’t walk like normal people - that would defeat the purpose, what with him being a mage - he glides on the floor, making no sound, white light flickering around his feet. They’re closer than they’ve ever been right now, if he doesn’t count their battles, now that they’re motionless in the middle of the deserted road. Victor takes his hand - Victor’s powerful, delicate, warm hands take his, so incredibly gently, and he brings them upwards, brushing Yuuri’s skin with pale lips. “I’m glad that you didn’t lose them, Yuuri.”

He doesn’t know how long they stay there, a knight and a mage - the unlikeliest of companions - but he does know he never looks away.

…

“Oooh,” Victor crows, resting his arms on Yuuri’s shoulders from behind the living room couch at the onsen, smirking at him. “You ever have a lover, Yuuri?”

The man blushes bright red, turning his face away as if to hide his obvious embarrassment. He fidgets with his hands, nervous, and murmurs, “Um, not really.”

“Never?” Victor can’t really believe it. Does he expect him to believe that? The man who boldly asked for a dance at the banquet? The man who shines on the ice like an angel? The man who skated his program without faltering? “A man like you?”

That makes Yuuri snort, just a little, “Yeah, Victor, a man like me. I’m not that much of a catch, you know.”

“Nonsense,” Victor dismisses it immediately, patting his head in reassurance and beaming when he sees Yuuri smile at that, just slightly. “You’re a national figure skating champion! You’re young! You’ve got a university degree! You’re extremely nice! And well,” Victor coughs, swallowing.“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not -” Yuuri chokes over his own words, flushing even more deeply and waving his arms in front of him. “I’m not beautiful.”

Victor narrows his eyes, poking at his side, “Modesty doesn’t suit you, Yuuri.”

It’s a lie. Everything suits Yuuri. He’s annoyingly wonderful like that.

“Well,” Victor jumps over the couch and sits beside him, fluttering his eyelashes seductively. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

“T-thanks,” Yuuri says, ears red. He runs his fingers through his hair, still flustered, before murmuring, in the softest, most tentative tone he’s ever heard him use, “I think you’re pretty, too.”

Victor’s dead. He’s deceased. Victor needs - he has to go, and bury his face in his pillow. Yuuri’s voice there? Fucking adorable. He can’t help but think, giddy, he called me pretty! Yuuri Katsuki thinks I’m pretty! Me! Yuuri!

Out of the corner of his eye, while he’s freaking out, he sees Yuuri relax slightly, and subtly nudge his thigh closer to Victor’s. It’s a bit unsure, a bit uncertain. So Victor nudges back.

…

“Let me handle this,” Victor tells him, smirking.

They need information from a nymph expert in the area who’s rumoured to frequent this tavern. Also a large fan of pretty boys and not a huge fan of people asking for information, according to their source (lovely village lad called Eimer). Apparently, he knows where this region’s main spirit, the Dragon, is located.

Yuuri’s grip on his sword tightens. If they can get rid of the spirit, the nymph will be weakened enough to be vulnerable to their attack. Nymphs have to distribute a large amount of their power to their main spirit so as to keep their basic spirits in line and control the region, which means it depletes their energy levels if they go down suddenly.

Victor requests surprises him, though. He blinks, “You want to get the information by yourself?”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Victor throws his long hair back, letting out a soft sigh and curling his fingers around the cords of his cape, teasing the motion of unlacing. “Trust me, I can make him talk.”

His eyebrows shoot upwards, a smile curving his lips, “Oh?”

The mage shoots him a dirty look, “I’m a very desirable man, Yuuri Katsuki.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he replies, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just wondering if it wouldn’t be suspicious for a mage to be sniffing around a nymph expert. You’re not exactly welcome around here.”

Victor sniffs, turning his nose up, “Stupid belief that nymphs are mages gone mad. As if that has any basis in reality.”

“I know,” Yuuri says, lightly touching his forearm in support. They’ve had a few close runs with angry people calling Victor a nymph and throwing stones at them. It’s almost impossible to hurt them, of course, not with Victor’s shields and Yuuri’s skills in play, but it must hurt to hear someone condemn him like that. Mages are raised in the academy, so they often don’t meet other people until adulthood. He saw Victor’s face, the first time a child insulted him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to never see that again.

“I can do it, too, you know.”

Victor’s eyes soften, “You’re such a sweetheart.”

“Maybe I’m just possessive,” Yuuri suggests, feeling brave, and relishes the startled blush on the mage’s cheeks. He coughs lightly, pleased, “I’ll be out of there in ten minutes.”

“... Optimistic,” Victor chokes out, still rattled. It isn’t often that Yuuri initiates the flirting, he knows that. But well. It wouldn’t have been nice to watch Victor drape himself over a potentially dangerous informant. Sometimes he really is a bit possessive.

“Just watch,” Yuuri winks.

They both go in, although Victor puts his hood up. His features are too fine to be any common villager, telling the tale of a life spent at the academy instead of in the fields, his hands uncalloused, and his snow crystals are too noticeable. He can pass for some time, but Yuuri will have to be quick.

No worries. He’s been quick before.

He leaves his sword with Victor, warning him to be watchful, before he changes in a small closet space he finds empty, taking off unnecessary furs and struggling not to feel observed. There are eyes everywhere. Once he’s got his clothes on, he messes up his hair a bit, erases some of the bags under his eyes with powder Mari and him used to buy at the Hasetsu market, and nods, satisfied.

Yuuri walks out of the small closet swishing his hips and letting just enough of his chest show, and ten different men and women turn to stare at him. Victor, from where he’s skulking near a table in the back, drops his glass noisily on the floor, eyes wide.

Aren’t you supposed to be subtle? Yuuri muses, slightly excited. He doesn’t really unsettle Victor much, and it’s nice to see him lose his composure a little.

He seduces the guy into telling him all the possible info, dropping spare touches on his arm and fluttering his eyelashes. He makes sure to trail his fingers all over the man’s face, and leaves before the guy realizes he’s just spilled important data to a travelling man working at a nearby ‘entertainment venue’ (code for pleasure house).

“...I did not expect that,” Victor gulps when they’re out of the tavern, glancing back at him, already wearing his regular clothes, in amazement. “That was...extremely educational.”

“Oh, really?” Yuuri blinks innocently, very purposefully pulling on his sword’s hilt before letting it drop all the way into its sheathe, watching Victor’s eyes track the movement. “I think I held back too much.” His heart is beating its way out of his chest, but he powers through. “If you want to learn though,” he licks his lips unconsciously. “I could always teach you.”

Victor lets out the tiniest whimper he’s ever heard, chest quivering up and down, and quickly walks ahead.

…

“I know!” Yuuri shoots up from the dinner table, breathless, with his cheeks flushed red. “I finally know what my eros is!”

He turns to look at Victor triumphantly, curling his fingers into his fist, “Pork cutlet bowl!”

For a moment, Victor wants to tear his hair out, to shake him and tell him, “No.”, because he’s seen Yuuri’s eros, seen him seduce him more expertly than anyone he’s ever met in his life, reeling him in and digging his hook all the way in. He wants to kiss him until he can’t think, his head is dizzy, and he finally lets go.

But Yuuri isn’t ready, that’s plain to see. Yuuri shuts the door at night, and hesitates when Victor is close, blushes at proximity incredibly easily. Yuuri is still figuring out what he wants, apparently, and the fact that he might have made the first move while drunk can’t change that. He’s going to have to be patient; it’s worth it, for a guy like Yuuri.

So Victor beams at him, grabs his arm, and declares, “Then you will be the pork cutlet bowl that enthralls men!”

The way Yuuri smiles at him, relieved and reassured in his choice, lets him know he did the right thing.

…

The Dragon spirit is at the top of the mountain - at least, that was what Yuuri’s informant claimed - in an area without many trees but near a stream, so the nymph can feed off its energy. There’s a minimum of two days travelling uphill in desolate terrain until they reach its hideout, and it’ll be tough, with no moment to rest. It’s extremely dangerous to fall asleep while so close to a main spirit; anything can attack, masking themselves with the spirit wards; basic spirits sneak into dreams if they’re strengthened by the main spirit’s power, and the mind must be alert at all times to stop nymph possession.

Yuuri knows this. He’s lived amongst nymphs for the better part of his childhood; Japan was a disaster that fell quickly enough, but nymphs followed their journey all the way out of the island, attaching their main spirits to vessels and landing in fertile grounds.

Nymphs are terrible, parasitic creatures who barely have any distinguishable emotions and lack an organized society. Contrary to what the stories said about them before they took over, nymphs aren’t beautiful maidens with kind words, but shorter, sickly-looking tiny women with sunken cheeks and bottomless black eyes. Yuuri won’t ever get the image of a nymph spreading her wings as she flew away with a child out of his mind, not for as long as he lives - her yellowed teeth shining, her claws wrapping around the baby, the way she glowed as her feet touched the earth.

They are distinctively non-human, and they aren’t mages, either. No one could mistake a nymph for them. They don’t have feelings, they don’t lure unsuspecting travellers to their doom. It’s almost ridiculous, how easy it is to hate them for sucking the life out of their home, out of their people, out of their hope.

But their blood is just as red as Yuuri’s is. And the screams of terrified agony - high-pitched, desperate, pleading - as he drives his sword through them while not allowing himself to falter, sound just like people’s.

“Do you want to do this?” Yuuri asks, swallowing hard. He’s been through too much to give up now; he’s already killed nymphs before. But Victor… Victor fights because he wants to practice his magic in peace, because he smiles at his ice crystals and draws snow mustaches on Yuuri’s face while he’s sleeping. Victor fights for the Academy, for his apprentice, a boy named Yuri, too.

Victor deserves better than risking his life alongside a mediocre knight; he deserves battalions, legions, armies.

Victor’s standing in the middle of the path, his bag with their provisions lying at his feet. His hair falls loosely all over his shoulders, covering up his hood. He looks at Yuuri, and says, very quietly, “I want to fight with you.”

“Are you certain?” Yuuri needs to know. He takes a step forward, biting his lower lip. “Victor, are you sure -?”

“I want to court you properly, you know,” Victor cuts him off, eyes fixed on the outline of the mountain in front of them. “I want you to get to know my apprentice. I want…” His hand curls into a fist, cold wind whipping his hair back. “I want to fall asleep next to you on the road without fear, Yuuri.” He finally looks up, determined. “I can’t be with you until I die if there’s creatures trying to kill us every second now, can I?” He smiles, amused. “And I still haven’t introduced you to the mage academy scholars, Yakov would never forgive me for marrying without his approval, anyway -”

Victor doesn’t continue then, but that’s because it’d be a little complicated, what with Yuuri’s lips monopolizing his mouth for the moment.

…

It’s cold, Barcelona.

Not as cold as St. Petersburg, of course; Spain’s got nothing on that. But cold enough that Victor sees Yuuri - sniffing every couple of minutes and sneezing - and frets, wrapping scarf after scarf around his neck, taking out gloves from every pocket he has, not even hesitating to warm up his face with breathless kisses.

“Victor,” Yuuri whines, pushing him away slightly. “We’re in the middle of the street!”

“But you’re freezing,” Victor pouts, wrapping his arms around Yuuri stubbornly. It’s almost his birthday, goddamnit, isn’t he allowed to hold his lover close, at least? “You’re not used to these cold winters.”

Yuuri raises an eyebrow at him, a small, amused smile on his lips, “I’m from Japan, not Brazil, Victor. I’ve seen snow before.”

“Was it frightening?” Victor teases.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight, I hope you know that.”

“So cruel,” Victor clutches at his chest desperately, biting his lip to keep himself from smiling. He knows Yuuri enjoys thinking his threats come off as serious most of the time, when really anyone can see from a mile away that he crumbles in the face of puppy dog eyes. Yuri has so far gotten soda six out of the six times Yuuri swore not to let him have some. His Grandpa hates them and won’t allow the kid to stay at their place.

“Hmph,” Yuuri rolls his eyes. “I can see when you’re being patronizing, Victor!”

“Right,” Victor replies cheerfully, dropping another kiss on his cheek.

“I-I’m telling you,” Yuuri chokes out between giggles. Ooh, ticklish. “This is so embarrassing…”

“No one knows you,” Victor whispers, his lips brushing Yuuri’s cheekbone as he moves to speak into his ear. “We can just have fun here.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri whispers back, and then says. “Except for the fact that there’s two teenagers taking pictures of you.”

Victor turns automatically. It’s true; two teens wearing ‘I HEART NIKIFOROV’ t-shirts with his face plastered on the front. The minute they notice him being aware of their presence, the short one screams and grabs the other one’s forearm in what seems like a death grip, before yelling, “¡No me lo puedo ni creer, tía! Aaaaaah, nos está mirando.”

Victor doesn’t know much Spanish, but he’s willing to bet there’s something about how cool he is, right there.

“They’re saying you’ve gotten old,” Yuuri tells him, as if the git knew Spanish.

“That is a lie,” Victor gasps, quickly switching his attention to glare at Yuuri. “I am not old. And even if I were,” Victor flicks his hair, “I would still look amazing.”

“You’ve spent the last few months drinking and binge-eating pork cutlet bowl while you had me on the steamed vegetable and pure protein diet,” Yuuri reminds him. That comes up a lot, in their arguments. Yuuri’s not the diet kind of guy, regardless of how loyal to his career he is. Victor currently has three chocolate boxes hidden in his part of the closet. “You deserve to be called all the insults in the world.”

“You still love me, though,” Victor says, his voice soft. He reaches out for Yuuri’s hand, and he immediately takes it, entwining their fingers without thinking. It’s become almost second nature these days, to reach out and find Yuuri waiting, to wait until Yuuri reaches out to him.

“Yeah, Vitya,” Yuuri goes on his tiptoes, gracing him with a single kiss on the tip of his nose and chuckling when he blushes bright red. “I still love you.”

…

Yuuri has never doubted the fact that Victor is strong. He’s always known that, and has worked tirelessly to match his level and grant him a chance against their enemies, to cover for him and compliment his style.

They’re strong, together.

The Dragon is stronger.

…

“Victor,” Yuuri starts. He looks troubled, his fingers curling into a fist on top of his thighs.

“Yes?” Victor smiles, trying to be reassuring. Tomorrow’s the final, and they’re engaged. It’s only natural that he gets nervous, especially if it’s Yuuri. He just hopes his anxiety isn’t too bad.

“Victor,” Yuuri begins once more, voice firm. “After the Grand Prix Final, let’s end this.”

…

It all starts to go wrong once Yuuri lets himself think they can actually do this.

They caught the Dragon while it was resting, thanks to Victor’s stealth, and managed to attack it in quick, efficient hits, staying light on their feet and saving energy for the entire battle. Even when the situation worsens, when the Dragon rises up to its full height, glorious and lethal, they maintain their composure, making sure that everything goes according to the plan.

The spirit feeds on the nymph to gain its power and although she’ll likely be aware that losing the guardian to her region is not a viable option, she’ll still take time to redirect her powers to one particular entity. Besides, she won’t be able to keep it up for long if someone else chooses to fight her. They must wear the Dragon out then, must outlast it. This nymph isn’t like the half-dead ones Yuuri’s seen in the wastelands or on the paths, the ones who can barely muster up three basic defense spirits. It’ll be dangerous.

They’re doing well, and then Yuuri gets hit by the spirit’s blast of pure white fire.

It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. Yuuri has been stabbed, has been stepped on, thrown against walls, hit, slapped, has survived attempted drownings… he’s known violence all his life, has grown to expect it rather than recoil at the first sign of it, to accept it as part of his life.

But then the flames lick his skin, teasing and biting, and he starts screaming.

It bites at him, gnaws on his body, ripping apart the folds that keep him together. There’s nothing to run away from, nothing to shake off, no wound to put pressure on, no possible remedy - there’s just heat, unbearable, eating away without mercy, burning through cloth to sink its claws into him and make him choke.

He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe he can’t breathe.

- cold.

Yuuri’s body cools down immediately, a change in temperature so brusque he feels dizzy with it, panting and clawing at his throat. He’s shivering while his blood pulses from the fire, while red rivers leak out of his red-hot wounds. There’s snow on the ground where he’s lying, he can feel it cushioning his body, recognizes its texture from being around it so much because of -

“... -uuri, Yuuri, oh for the Mage’s soul, Yuuri, pl- please.”

“V-Victor,” he rasps out. “Victor,” he repeats.

“I’m here,” Victor chokes out. Yuuri can’t open his eyes, but his heart constricts at the pure agony in Victor’s voice, gut-wrenching. “Yuuri, come on, I have to get you something -”

Neither of them are healers. The most Yuuri can do is tie a tourniquet, from days at the camps he and his family stayed at, but his knowledge of medicine doesn’t extend to burns like this. He can’t - he’s not sure he’ll survive this.

“Dragon,” he whispers, coughing. He manages to see a little, from between his eyelashes. Victor still looks gorgeous, even when his vision is blurry. It makes him want to smile, a little, and touch his cheek. He looks really worried. Victor shouldn’t be that worried about him.“Dragon.” he insists.

“I don’t care about the stupid Dragon,” Victor bites out, as if they haven’t spent the last few days chasing after it, sacrificing hours and hours of sleep and time because of it. He’s crouching protectively on top of him, “Yuuri, stay with me, I’m begging you.”

“You’re pretty,” Yuuri blurts out, woozy. It all hurts so much. The words seem to come from far away. “Want to dance?”

“What -? Nevermind,” Victor dismisses it, fussing over him. His hands are shaking. Why are they shaking? It’s still cold, but Victor’s immune to that. And anyway, the place is heating up. Yuuri’s hot. Should he be hot? That doesn’t sound right. “My wards won’t hold for much longer, we need to get you somewhere safe, I’m going to call Otabek, he can help you -”

“Be my coach, Victor,” Yuuri slurs, barely conscious.

…

Victor doesn’t notice he’s started to cry until his tears are pooling together on his lap.

…

Yuuri comes to with the worst headache he’s had in his life, spitting out blood as he writhes on the floor.

The cold - the sweet, blessed cold - is gone, and now there’s fire again, except his skin isn’t the one suffering under it this time. It’s everywhere, poisoning the air, making him cough black smoke and struggle to breathe. The only thought on his mind is - where is Victor?

…

“I’m retiring, after this,” Yuuri says, with that half-smile of his Victor knows better than he knows his own hand, the half-smile that fights to show how completely happy he is with what he’s saying, while burying the regret underneath.

Victor imagines a world in which he skates and Yuuri doesn’t - a world in which Yuuri doesn’t spend his morning hours lazing in the rink, in which he doesn’t stay up until 3 am because that’s when the best offers for skating equipment come in, in which he doesn’t rehearse jumps in Victor’s living room, accidentally breaking his lamp for the fourth time. Figure skating has become so deeply integrated into what he associates as Yuuri in the time they’ve known each other that, although he can say without a doubt that he’d stay with Yuuri regardless of whatever he did with his career, he doesn’t know if Yuuri would be happy with that.

If Yuuri would want that.

“Your career isn’t dead, Yuuri,” he whispers, trying not to plead and yet desperately wishing to.

“It’s dying,” his fiancé murmurs, shrugging.

…

Victor’s losing.

Victor’s fighting on his own at the top of the mountain, defending himself and Yuuri as best as he can. He’s on his last resources of power; Yuuri can tell by the way there’s no snow around him like there always is, just faint droplets of water hanging in the air.

“Victor!” Yuuri yells, wincing at the sound of his voice. His lungs are filled with smoke. “Victor, I’m coming!”

For a moment, Victor turns, his blue eyes widening, his lips quivering with relief before they decide on an exhausted smile. His shoulders go down, losing some of their tension. He says, “Yuuri -”

That’s the precise second when the Dragon’s claw comes down, almost as if in slow motion, and tears through his neck like it’s sandpaper.

…

“Oh my god,” Yuuri breathes, eyes following the shape moving on the TV screen. “Who is that?”

“That’s Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuko answers, not missing a beat. She sounds giddy, grabbing his hands to get his attention. Her ponytail swings from side to side as she gushes. “He’s like, the best skater in the world. Can you believe he’s only 14?”

“...Yeah, I can believe it.”

There’s something familiar about Victor Nikiforov, something that calls out to Yuuri immediately. He moves swiftly and surely, like the ice is his element, like his jumps are supported by rising and falling tides.

He’s watching him, curious and interested, when Victor Nikiforov gives a look at the camera after his spread eagle - an intimate, heated glance accompanied by a perfectly delivered wink, and Yuuri’s heart skips a beat.

He bites his lower lip, “Hey, Yuuko, can we learn that program?”

Maybe he could meet him at a competition one day.

Yeah, right, Yuuri sighs much later as they’re actually practicing the program, which is absurdly complicated. He purses his lips. As if he’d meet the best skater in the world. In another life.

fin

#victuuriweek #day 6 #au prompt #victuuri #yoi #yuri on ice #fic #fanfiction

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scstoll · 7 years ago

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Reason To Believe :Why Listen to Bruce Springsteen?

“Without music life would be a mistake” – Friedrich Nietzsche

So the question is why listen to Bruce Springsteen? what's all the hype about; if I tell you it’ll change your life would you believe me? after all, it's only music right?

Well let's start with the music itself; in case your harboring any doubts its damn good music. The E Street Band has got be one of the finest groups ever assembled. They’re not only amazingly talented musicians in their own right but as a band, as a group, they become much like Bruce's music. That is to say infinitely more powerful than the sum of their own parts . And just to make it clear when I'm talking about the greatness of Bruce; I'm not talking about that cheesy pop ‘Born in The USA’ and everything that’s come since, proof if it was ever needed that everybody sells out eventually. I still enjoy listening to them of course, the later albums are very good and still contain solid and often inspired song writing. But they're missing something that's present in Bruce's three essential change your life albums(Born to Run, Darkness On The Edge of Town and to a lesser extent The River).That missing something is of course; inspiration.

Bruce's later work is good but these three albums could only ever have been great. From the opening of Thunder Road on ‘Born to Run’ to the mournful sounding River ,these albums tell one big story. It’s about growing up and wanting to escape.Wanting to capture youth in all its fire and glory and idealism and doomed naivety. It's about wanting to live every last drop in a romantic vision of a young American promised land that is opening up right in front of the character’s eyes. This escapist poetry is summed up in one line of the first song of ‘Born to Run’, Springsteen declares wholeheartedly “we’ll make it if we run”

Of course the characters never make it. Not because they never ran but because by the second album the characters are older and they realize that there was never anywhere to run to. The second album is called “Darkness on the edge of town “ and is probably my favorite album of all time. The youthful naivety and idealism of “Born to Run “ are gone. This is an album that deals unashamedly with real life. With a life of limitations, broken promises and compromises. Many classic rock albums have been described as "a rocker's assault on the real world". In contrast to this "Darkness on The Edge of Town" chronicles a rocker struggling to do something more difficult than lead an assault on the real world; live in it. What make this album outstanding is its theme; despite the title this is an album that embraces complete rejection of 'darkness' . Throughout the entire album Springsteen stares the restrictions of adult life in the face and still strives to embrace a commitment to life, to living as if you’ll be gone tomorrow because someday you will be. The characters in the album no longer yearn for escape, they have accepted it was an illusion, the songs are not necessarily joyful but they are earnest. They are powerful and every screamed out word embrace one central idea, an idea that I would argue is the central idea behind all great rock and roll. This is the rejection of death in life. You can see the characters from the first album grow up and settle down and yet the narrator still feels his soul cry out to live life “on the line where dreams are found and lost”. The message of the whole album is summed up by one the line in the stunning Racing in the Street “some guys they just stop living/ and start dying little by little/piece by piece/some guys come home from work and wash up /then go racing in the street”. To steal directly from the Rolling Stone review of the album ,”in this line Springsteen separates humanity into two groups ,the living dead and the walking wounded”. With that in mind the message of the album is clear, which side are you on ?

The final album of the trilogy is probably the darkest. I haven't been listening to it for half as long as the others so I can't talk about it in as much detail. This album follows the same characters as they grow older and are eventually absorbed the fabric of real life they once wanted to escaped from. So much so that they actually see the in the street the young kids they used to be and “they let them go to their dances of the dead”. For me the standout songs are ‘The River’ itself, a doomed mournful yearning to return from a troubling present to the past. But even here there is a dampened resolve and never total despair. In my opinion and I may be wrong, the crucial message of this album is a heavy one . If you are determined to live to the absolute hilt ,to throw caution to the wind and to strive for a life with no regrets and to throw your and heart and soul in to everything you do, there is always a “price you pay “. No one can race in the street forever because no one can outrun time. Because people are fical, because love often just doesn’t last. The final album isn’t like ‘Darkness on the Edge of Town’ in that it doesn't deal solely with the burning desire to live a perfect existence and take everything you can from life. Instead this album deals with what life takes from you and how if ever, you can learn “to sleep at night/ with the price you pay”. But that isn’t the only theme on this album, I feel it’s the most important but there are many. One song I really love is ‘Independence Day’. Its the perfect leaving home song ,there's no idealism here .This song faces up to and accepts the reality of goodbyes with things left unsaid and perhaps brings ultimate end to the resolve shown throughout ‘Darkness on the Edge of Town’. The young narrator eventually accepts that “there's a darkness in this town that’s got the best of us /there's a darkness in this house that’s got us too”. The next line in the song is telling, as the trilogy of albums seems to come full circle with the narrator once again choosing escape. But this is not the romantic joyous escape of the first record ; this is self preservation. The narrator vows to his father that “they aint gonna do to me/what I watched them do to you “. This lonely, desperate escape is finalized as the chorus hits “papa, say goodbye/ its independence day /all boys must run away “. At the end of song the music and any hope of a life with no regrets fade slowly out of sight .

So there you have it , it may seem that half of this has been about philosophy rather than music. But that’s what makes these three albums so damn special. They’re infused with the small defeats and hopes and dreams of everyday life ,all blown up on the big screen of Bruce and the E street Band’s music . These are songs to grow up, to fall in love with( and to!) over and over again. These are songs of desperation and an unwavering commitment to life sung by a man who believes every word of it, so much so that it threatened to rip him and the band apart .So to sum up these are songs that will reach into your chest, shake up your soul and never quite let you go. Songs to change your life.But after all, it’s only music right ?

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vileart · 7 years ago

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Ethiopian Dramaturgy: Circus Abyssinia @ Edfringe 2017

Underbelly and Bibi & Bichu present

Circus Abyssinia: Ethiopian Dreams

Venue: The Lafayette, The Underbelly Circus Hub, Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2017 Dates: Sat 5th August – Sat 26 August, (not 14th or 21st), 3pm Prices: Aug 5, £10 Aug 6, 9, 10, 15, 16, 17, 22, 23, 24, £13.50 (£12.50) Aug 7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 18, 19, 20, 25, 26, £15.50 (£14.50)

WORLD FAMOUS JUGGLERS BIBI AND BICHU DEBUT CIRCUS ABYSSINIA: ETHIOPIAN DREAMS AT THE UNDERBELLY CIRCUS HUB, EDINBURGH FESTIVAL FRINGE 2017

14 STRONG CAST DREAMS BIG TO CREATE ONE OF THE WORLD’S FIRST FULL-BLOWN ETHIOPIAN CIRCUSES

INSPIRED BY THE CAST’S CHILDHOOD DREAMS OF BECOMING CIRCUS PERFORMERS AND THE POWER OF CIRCUS TO EFFECT SOCIAL CHANGE

Circus Abyssinia: Ethiopian Dreams is an

unashamedly joyful mix of astonishing stunts, astounding circus skills and enchanting adventure. The 14 strong cast will bring their exuberant message of the power of imagination and dreams with a celebration of transformative circus to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe for the first time.

The realisation of the dreams of its cast, the show dramatises (in surreal, often comic and mostly wordless ways) a tale of a magical journey told by two Ethiopian brothers whose dream of joining the circus is made real by the Man in the Moon. Performed from the perspective of a young Bibi and Bichu, through the language of circus, the show mixes autobiographical and fictional narratives to tell how the two brothers became world-class jugglers.

What was the inspiration for this performance?

The dreams and stories of its all-Ethiopian cast. We all grew up dreaming of joining the circus, but there is no circus tradition in Ethiopia - no circuses rolled into town, and there was no chance of running away with one! So we learned our skills in the city streets, performing for the sheer love of performing. The show is a surreal retelling of how in following our dreams, we found each other, and in each other, found the means to make our dreams a reality.

Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas?

Absolutely. As we see it, performance can raise and provoke ideas in ways that go beyond what is possible in other settings. Particularly with more and more communication and discussion taking place online, the power of theatre and circus to connect people with each other and the world in an immediate way - to shake up attitudes and challenge assumptions, and create a dialogue between opened minds - is more important than ever.

For us, circus is a creative response, an art-form defined by a sense of participation and empowerment. We created our show to speak to the power and importance of dreams in a world too often marked by cynicism and doubt, and too often forgetful of the extraordinary diversity and possibilities that lie outside or are hidden from sight in mainstream popular culture. How did you go about gathering the team for it? For years, we’ve been sponsoring a circus school in Ethiopia, Circus Wingate, doing what we can to help other Ethiopian circus artists who started out just like we did - performing improvised street circus, with little hope of ever making a living by their skills. It was at Circus Wingate that we discovered the cast of Ethiopian Dreams - the incredible Konjowoch Troupe. The rest of the creative team we were lucky enough to meet over the course of many years performing in the UK, all incredibly talented people whose collaboration on this show has been its own dream come true.

How did you become interested in making performance? Since we were little it’s all we’ve ever wanted to do. As young boys we remember carving our first juggling clubs out of wood because we had nothing else to juggle. They were ridiculously too heavy of course, and we got splinters (so many!), but it's always been a matter of when and how, not if, we would perform. Is there any particular approach to the making of the show? Although the show opens with a wonderful scene of dialogue - written by amazingly funny Cal McCrystal - we made the decision early on to focus on wordless ways of telling stories, of making meaning.

Ours isn’t a nostalgic view of circus, a celebration

of its vintage appeal - we've worked very hard to make a show about what circus can and could be, so our approach has been one necessarily marked by elements of exploration and play. Bichu (the director) is very interested in ways of blending the surreal, the lyrical and the physical, and the show does its storytelling through the musical and physical media of circus itself. Does the show fit with your usual productions? We’ve worked on various small-scale projects over the years, including an early version of an Ethiopian circus, and we’ve been lucky enough to perform in a huge range of productions over the course of our careers - from CBeebies to opera! - but Ethiopian Dreams is the first large-scale, story-telling piece we’ve created. What do you hope that the audience will experience? Hilarity, thrills, empathy for those seeking a better life, and the desire to wholeheartedly pursue their dreams. What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience? We’ve worked hard to harness the tremendous, contagious energy of the cast to create an immersive and highly interactive experience for the audience - the audience is a vital part of the show, which literally requires their participation at times! For instance, there's a hilarious silent clowning act – not quite in a slapstick vein, but a subtler form of comedy – that establishes a dialogue with the audience that is visual, physical and wordless, inviting spectators to engage with the circus on its own terms.

The show also dreams a little bigger as Bibi and Bichu team up with the Konjowoch Troupe to celebrate the birth of a new Ethiopian tradition. Fusing theatrical storytelling with astonishing stunts, the show combines the arts and innovations of contemporary circus with Ethiopia's artistic heritage to create one of the world's first full-blown Ethiopian circuses.

From humble beginnings Bibi and Bichu learnt their skills at a young age busking and tumbling for crowds in the city streets of Jimma, working tirelessly to master their craft and realise their dreams of joining the circus. Now world-renowned jugglers they have performed in thousands of shows in countries all over the world ranging from Japan to Germany. Their performance credits range from the family friendly to the radical to the

prestigious including; CBeebies, Ant and Dec’s Saturday Night Takeaway, The Paul O’Grady Show and English National Opera’s production of Akhnetan. They later attended the National Centre for Circus Arts, where they trained under Sean Gandini, director of Gandini Juggling and this summer, they start the filming for Big Ears, Tim Burton's live action remake of Dumbo.

The brothers who now reside in the UK were also resident jugglers at the acclaimed Giffords Circus from 2002 - 2016, touring for 11 seasons throughout the south of England. It was during their time with Giffords, performing as part of Moon Songs in 2015 alongside renowned stage and screen director Cal McCrystal, that the brothers found their inspiration for Circus Abyssinia. The new show unfolds with a dreamlike sense inspired by the 2015 production but the driving force behind the performance is the transformative magic of circus itself, and all its acts play with the possibility that such magic and energy are forces that can be mastered.

Edinburgh Festival Fringe audiences will be plunged into a world of daredevil wonders as they encounter a host of other circus dreamers: dancing, contorting, gravity-defying figures, all weaving tales of their own. Featuring the inimitable Konjowoch Troupe, a team of dazzling and prodigiously talented acrobats from Addis Ababa in Ethiopia, whose reputation for bold and vertiginous acrobatic displays are both awe-inspiring and heart- stopping to watch.

Bibi and Bichu discovered the 12 incredible acrobats at Circus Wingate, a circus school they have sponsored since 2010 as part of their ongoing commitment to support the development of Ethiopian circus in an effort to repay the kindness they received from other artists in their own careers. The troupe's burgeoning circus careers have changed their lives and the lives of their families for the better in very real, significant ways: most were living in poverty until 2015.

Bibi and Bichu’s future plans as a company

include scaling up the show and working with more acrobats from Circus Wingate. They conceive of circus as nothing less than a means of social change, and not just in Ethiopia: further down the line, they're looking to set up a circus school in the UK for immigrants and refugees.

Circus Abyssinia: Ethiopian Dreams is a surreal retelling of how the cast dreamed of the circus in a country without one and created a phenomenal new Ethiopian tradition. The show is an unmissable event for children and adults who will love the extraordinary physical feats of strength, dexterity and fluid grace, and the reminder that, when we work together and fight for them, dreams are for there for the taking.

The Cast

Bibi and Bichu The Konjowoch Troupe: Betty Dejene, Etsegenet Ashenafi, Helen Shimelse Semeret Getachew, Abraham Menbere, Alemayehu Mulugeta, Befekadu Esmael, Ezra Nigusse, Daniel Gezahegn, Hailu Amare, Seid Jemal, Zena Shmelse

The Creative Team

Writer – Cal McCrystal Director – Bichu Tesfamariam Costume Designer - Lara Skowronska

Bibi and Bichu

Ethiopian brothers Bibi and Bichu picked up their first juggling clubs at 13 and 14 years old, inspired by a shared childhood dream of joining an English circus. After working tirelessly to master their craft, they took to the road with Circus Jimma, embarking on a European tour which brought them to the UK in 1999. They quickly discovered the London Circus Space where they met the brilliant Sean Gandini, whose generous and ingenious guidance over the years has helped transform their youthful vision of a circus life into an adult reality.

Since making their home permanently in the UK, Bibi and Bichu have worked with a cavalcade of artists, companies and theatrical circus groups, from the wonderfully funny and endlessly inventive Giffords Circus to the deliciously freakish Circus of Horrors.

They have juggled in thousands of events and festivals in dozens of countries, at venues including the O2 Arena and the Fuji rock festival in Japan, and in shows ranging from the most family friendly to the radical to the prestigious: from CBeebies to Gandini Juggling, to the English National Opera Jubilee. With world records to their names, and numerous television appearances to their credit, Bibi and Bichu rank among the finest jugglers in the world.

Currently in their eleventh season with Giffords, Bibi and Bichu are touring the South of England with Old West love story, 'The Painted Wagon'. They are also thrilled to announce the launch of their own show this year. 'Circus Abyssinia', featuring the amazing Konjowoch Troupe, is an exuberant mix of autobiography and dream.

Konjowoch Troupe

It is with immense pride and delight that Bibi and Bichu welcome to the cast of Circus Abyssinia a team of dazzling and prodigiously talented acrobats, also from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia: the inimitable Konjowoch Troupe, whose flying feats and daredevil stunts are equal parts strength and liquid grace. The troupe joined us for the first time in the UK in 2015, for their debut in Giffords Circus' Moon Songs, and have since been taking the Cotswolds by storm with a repertoire comprising contortion, foot juggling, hand vaulting, riveting ensemble dance numbers and an eight-strong Chinese Pole act that has had audiences gasping with amazement.

Founded in 2005, their attitudes of wonder and delight, which exude their sheer love of performing, are just as compelling as the high level of technical virtuosity with which they tackle the terrifying risks involved in their trade today.

That most of the members joined as children has shaped the dynamic of the troupe into that of an oversized, acrobatic family. And in the ring their extraordinary rapport proves infectious, manifesting as an open connection with the audience, which they maintain with every lithe trick, joyful somersault, flip, spin and daredevil leap.

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#Theatre #Blogger #visual art #Edinburgh Fringe #Experimental Critique

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