#historical houses in PA are just so fun
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Went to the Peter Wentzâs farm today, which was Washingtonâs HQ before and after the Battle of Germantown! Washington actually paid back the invoices given to him by the Wentz family, which is very kind of him considering he and his army of twenty somethings ate their food and slept in their house for several days. More importantly yada yada battles cool yeah there were POLKA DOTS. POLKA DOTS EVERYWHERE. The original wall even shows that the polka dots are historically accurate and were original to the house. They also have sheep and cows and itâs very scenic. Visit if you can!
#POLKA DOTS#I love it. I love it!#historical houses in PA are just so fun#historic homes#historic preservation#american revolution#the battle of germantown#the philadelphia campaign#amanda speaks#pennsylvania history#your local pennsylvanian here
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Little House in the Big Woods is a masterful depiction of the simple joys and mindset of very early childhood. Which, oddly enough, makes the book work better for me as an adult than as a child. As a kid, I saw this as one of the lesser books--there are some fun moments and interesting stories, but nothing really happens. As an adult, that's one of the main draws--nothing happens! Laura gets to see the frost on the windows and play with her cousins and get Christmas presents and look at the pictures in the animal book and play house and nothing goes wrong. It brings back those innocent, simple joys of very early childhood in a way that's much more welcome now that I'm much further away from it.
With an adult's perspective, it's also easier to catch more details about the wider world surrounding that little cabin in the Big Woods. The family ties binding together the adults. The historical context of the 1860s. You catch the fact that they're choosing to live like this--the rest of the world is pretty advanced, but they're living on the very edges of civilization where you have to do things for yourself in a way few other people do.
As a kid, I just saw the historical moment as "pioneer times where they live like this because they haven't invented technology." As an adult, I know that there's a ton of technology already being invented at a faster rate than ever before, and even here on the fringes of society, it's got a huge effect on how they settle the area. They buy machine-made traps to catch animals for a huge fur industry (at least, I don't see a local blacksmith making these). They use a complicated threshing machine. They buy machine-made cloth and cane sugar and have little store-made knickknacks. Their way of life is pretty heavily dependent on a world where railroads and steamships can rapidly transport goods around the world, which is a huge reason that life changed so quickly during Laura's lifetime--the world was already pretty modern, and just had to get out to where she was. It's a perspective that added a lot of depth to my view of the setting.
The book's also better from an adult viewpoint because it's not just the story of early childhood, but it's a woman in her 60s looking back at her early childhood--nostalgic for it in the way a lot of adults are nostalgic for a time when the world seemed simpler and safer--which makes the perspective oddly relatable.
I can still see why it's less exciting than the other books--even apart from the lack of deadly perils, Laura's extremely young age means she's not an active protagonist. She's just watching life while other people go off and do things. Most of the events are things we hear about--Pa telling stories of his childhood or of what he's done during the day. Laura doesn't, for instance, go out to the bee tree--she sees Pa get the wagon and then come back and tell her about it. Even this simple event is something that Laura's not actively watching, which makes her perspective feel a bit disconnected from the world.
But for all the story's flaws and virtues, the very best part of the book is how much love goes into it. Laura is writing this out of love for the family that gave her such a childhood. She'll pause to note Pa's laugh, or talk about how pretty Ma was while making hominy. She loves the landscape, delighting in the details of every season. She loves the daily tasks of farm life. She's not just detailing things like cheese-making or churning because these skills are dying out, but because she's lived her life on a farm and takes genuine joy in the details that go into completing all these tasks. She loved farming so much that she spent years writing a column about farming life, and that absolutely comes out here.
Then, at the very end, we have a line that's my contender for one of the best last lines in all of literature. Laura's watching her family and the firelight as Pa plays his fiddle in the cozy little house, singing about remembering the days of long ago. And this sixty-some-year-old woman, looking back at her childhood, bringing back a vanished world for the children of today, ends with a paragraph that perfectly sums up the bittersweet truths of the story--that childhood thinks it will last forever, that time will pass in the blink of an eye, and that memory and storytelling can, in their imperfect way, make the past immortal.
She was glad that the cosy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.
#little house in the big woods#little house#laura ingalls wilder#maybe this should have been a bullet point list but it turns out i got a lot of paragraphs in me
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Day Twenty-Seven
If you've been reading what I write long enough, you'll know that I'm very serious about my job, but I'm also a giant goofball, and I like making people laugh.
Current target: Mr. C, the new English teacher.
English and social studies classrooms are in the same wing of the building, so he's usually at his door when I swing through the hall to see my people before the morning bell. Today he got to witness all the loud and gleeful discourse about how we teach unprecedented historical events (VERY CAREFULLY). Naturally, I was going on about how fun it is to be the only APGOV teacher around here, it's totally not any pressure at all, no big deal even when we're in uncharted political territory because I'm a freakin' wizard who can do anything.
That earned me a chuckle.
In all seriousness, it IS fun to be the only APGOV teacher even if there is pressure that comes with that. And it was pretty epic to start APGOV by watching some news highlights and discussing the situation in the House of Representatives before returning to our regularly planned lesson (which was about how to write FRQs, and they picked that up super fast).
Global Studies was less epic since students were still drafting projects, or maybe I should say it was epic in a different way. This is their first major assessment, and they're doing really well. I spent a lot of time during each section giving feedback, so I got to take a close look at several students' work, and it's excellent. Drafts are due at the end of class tomorrow if I haven't seen them yet, then students will have a bit of a fall break (early release day, teacher workshop day, long weekend for the holiday), and they'll revise when they come back. How's that for solid timing on a unit plan??
Oh, and a funny thing to end this entry with: the student day ends at 2:20 here, so if you're wondering if it was ridiculous and funny when the emergency alert went off on every single phone just before the afternoon bell, can confirm. It definitely was. Thankfully, The Principal had gotten on the PA a couple minutes earlier to remind students it was going to happen, so it didn't freak anybody out.
Know who reminded him to do that? I did!
#teaching#edublr#teachblr#education#high school#teacher#social studies#conversations about current events#Mr. C#my timing is impeccable#i am a wizard#the principal#day twenty seven
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Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you'd like to know better!
Thank you so much @sunfl0wer-power for tagging me!! This seems so fun! And also, sorry, this is gonna be long
What book are you currently reading?
Iâm a library science student, so Iâm reading a bit of everything. But some books that Iâm reading for fun are To Kill a Mockingbird (my favorite book), Daisy Jones and the Six, and The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. All these books are amazing and I recommend them for everyone if youâve not read them!
What do you usually wear?
Usually just jeans and a tee shirt most of the time. Whateverâs comfortable to be honest, but I always always wear my wooden peace sign necklace and 2 bracelets on each arm because I think it helps with my balance (it does not, Iâm very clumsy)
How tall are you?
In all honesty, Iâm 4â9 or 4â10, usually I wear boots to give me some extra height
Whatâs your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or historical event?
Iâm a Libra, my birthday is October 13th and Iâm not 100 percent sure about the celebrity birthday, but according to the Library of Congress, the construction of the White House started on October 13th, so thatâs fun!
Do you go by your name or a nickname?
So, for the most part, I go by my name, which is Kasey, but weâre also Southern, so my family has a lot of nicknames. Some of them are: Kase, KK, Issy, Sissy and The Wee One, which is what my dad calls me.
Did you grow up to become what you wanted as a child?
When I was a kid, I wanted to be six foot and married to Brendan Fraserâs character in The Mummy, so no, but I had high hopes đ
What is something youâre good at vs something youâre bad at?
I feel like Iâm a good listener, and my sister says Iâve got Biblical like patience, so thatâs fun. Iâm bad at letting certain things go, like I hold certain grudges I guess?
If you draw/write/create whatâs your favorite thing that youâve done created?
I donât know if this counts, but I wrote my undergrad thesis on Women in Protest Music, specifically Appalachian women, and Iâm really proud of it.
Dogs or cats?
Dogs. Iâm allergic to cats, and my sister has a barn cat and Iâm pretty sure itâs Satan reincarnated.
Whatâs something you would like to create content for?
Iâm not super duper creative, but moodboards seem cool. Like mini Pinterest, itâs cute. I also used to write poetry, and do embroidery, so maybe Iâll get back into that? Who knows?
Whatâs something youâre currently obsessed with?
I think I tend to hyper focus on a lot, but my main things are Hozier, Dolly Parton, Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit, Greta Van Fleet, and for some reason, Kermit the Frog?
Whatâs something you were excited for and turned out to be disappointing?
I was really really hoping to get tickets to Stevie Nicks last year, and right when I had them in my cart, Ticketmaster crashed, then when I went to check them out, they were like, $400, so that sucked.
Whatâs a hidden talent of yours?
I can shoot a bow and arrow, and I can kinda dress a deer. Not really hidden, we had to learn in school, but I act like I donât know so my Pa doesnât make me help him skin deer when he hunts. Itâs gross.
Whatâs something you wish you had at this moment?
My Masters degree, a better job and concert tickets.
No pressure tags: @weightofdreamssss @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine @m1rkw00dpr1ncess and literally anyone else who wants to do it, I enjoyed it! đ
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Finally finding time for a little update here. Itâs been 2.5 months since we lost our little man and weâre hanging in there. B and I are leaning on each other and focusing on taking care of Pep, trying not to let the grief swallow us whole. Weâre trying to focus on whatâs in the future for our family which has been helpful and healthy for us both. B made our sweet boyâs urn, which is beautiful, and was a sort of therapy for him.
As summer gave way to fall, we enjoyed the last warm days of the season outside, taking trips to the park, zoo, and local farms as much as possible. Weâve had family and friends visiting and making plans with us consistently; itâs been great having that support and keeping involved socially. We went to our first trunk-or-treat and my little Incredible was too adorable in his costume. He had so much fun and big surprise: turns out, he loves candy.
One big decision we were faced with after losing Pip was whether we were going to move forward with buying the new house and moving. The day we lost him, our offer was accepted. It was hard to even think about and in the moment it was a decision I truly didnât even care about, but we ultimately decided that we would keep pushing forward. To back out of the deal and stay living in our current house wouldnât have done anyone any good. I felt an overwhelming need to get out of that house and out of that town. Being surrounded by things that bring heartbreaking memories to mind a thousand times a day leaves very little room for healing.
Iâm happy to say we closed on our new home a little over a week ago and just moved in a few days ago. Weâre currently still half in the old house, half in the new house, but itâs nice being able to take our time with moving everything over. Once weâre fully out of the old house, itâll be time to clean it up, take photos, and put it on the market.
Moving to the new town in PA has been so incredibly positive for us all. For me, very healing. In a lot of ways, the area seems opposite to where weâve been living in NY. I didnât know how much I needed that until I experienced it. Our new town is slower paced, the people are so friendly, and the new house, despite only being 15 minutes outside of town, feels so quiet and secluded, in the middle of nature. We have dozens of deer on our property every day. Pep loves to watch them from his bedroom window and chase them in the yard, squealing happily and exclaiming, âdeeeer!!â The center of town is very historic and charming, a very Hallmark movie kind of quaint town. Love that journey for me.
Pep, now 22 months old, is absolutely blossoming. His language and communication has exploded over the past month or two. He has so, so many words and can now tell us what he wants, what he doesnât want, and itâs so heart warming and wonderful. He truly is the apple of my eye and he keeps both me and B going every single day.
This weekend, B and I reluctantly left Pep in the care of my parents at our new home and we made the 9-hour drive to Michigan for a close friendâs wedding. I was so nervous to leave Pep for a whole weekend â longer than weâve ever been away before â but heâs doing awesome with my parents. After the most stressful few months of my life, I needed this rest and break more than I realized. Itâs been fantastic reconnecting with B, spending time with our cherished college friends, sleeping in, eating meals as two adults rather than mom and dad, and recharging.
Iâve been half heartedly keeping up with you all and need to check in on so many of you for the latest updates. Iâm missing this community, so Iâll try to check in more often. I hope youâre all well!
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Interview with sugamins about her work House of Cards (Ao3âČs second most hit English work and most hit BTS work)
Before You Read the Interview
Archive of Our Own Transcript
Reddit Transcript Part 1 / Part 2
House of Cards is documented within the Top 50 Most Hit BTS Works on Archive of Our Own Project, otherwise known as T50BTS, by Charmedseoul. It is the second most hit English work on the Archive of Our Own platform, most hit BTS work, and 16th most hit work overall. It centers around the internationally popular K-Pop idol group BTS (Bangtan Sonyeondan) with the main characters being Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook. This work is being documented for historical purposes for the Fanlore website with its own page. Charmedseoul is a BTS-focused anonymous historian who plans to eventually document each of the top 50 most hit BTS work on Ao3 as in depth as this one. If you are in contact with any of the authors of these works, please contact her on Twitter @charmedseoul or on Tumblr @charmedseoull.
Parts of this interview have been edited with links to Fanlore and Wikipedia pages for understanding. Any information in [brackets] serves for further clarity for readers and elaboration of information.
Disclaimers: This interview contains spoilers for the BTS Archive of Our Own work House of Cards. The storyâs Archive of Our Own tags contain violence and gangster activity, along with discussion of prostitution and drug use. The full tag list is:
Alternate Universe - Gangsters
Gang Violence
Violence
Drugs
Drug Use
Explicit Sexual Content
Explicit Language
Blood and Gore
Blood and Torture
Gambling
Gunplay
Undercover
Disturbing Themes
Homophobic Language
Attempted Rape/Non-Con
Xenophobia
Dom/sub
Threesome - M/M/M
Drug Addiction
Dubious Consent
This interview discusses an 18+ mature work and Not Safe for Work topics. Please read this interview at your own discretion. You are responsible for the content you consume.
House of Cards by sugamins is a multi-chapter Archive of Our Own fanfiction that follows police officer Kim Taehyungâs undercover operation into the gangster world of Haedogje Pa. Jeon Jungkook, shrouded in an air of mystery and dubbed âThe Boy,â is the heir to this crime empire. Park Jimin lives with him, acting as a lover of sorts in a high, pristine penthouse apartment. The story follows the three and their complicated relationship where sex, violence, and drugs surround them. Kim Taehyung tries to take down the empire as his moral lines of black and white begin blurring into gray. In this crime-ridden alternate reality to Seoul, everything from the structure of the gangster world to the trust between three lovers is as fragile as a house of cards.
Now presenting the interview with sugamins, author of Archive of Our Ownâs second most hit English work and most hit BTS work, House of Cards:
How did you start writing?
How did you get into fanfiction?
How much writing experience did you have prior to House of Cards?
Do you have any literary or artistic inspirations? Any other authors or works that have inspired you to create anytime before or after House of Cards?
How did you become an ARMY [ARMY stands for Adorable Representative MC for the Youth. It is the fandom name for fans of BTS, otherwise known as Bangtan Sonyeondan]?
I started writing fanfiction in 2012. But before then, I used to enjoy writing stories as a child and young teenager. I used to write and illustrate my own stories. I even had a sketchbook filled with my own comic book, which was terrible! But I've always been creative. It started with art and then I moved onto writing when I discovered I was able to be much more creative with my words rather than my pencil.
I first got into fanfiction through my years spent on Tumblr. I had always known that it had existed, but I had never really gone looking for it because I hadn't belonged to a fandom at that point in my life. It was back in 2012 when I stumbled upon an EXO fanfic that a lot of people were talking about (Arbitrage, you can find it on Livejournal.) I read it and then thought...wow, so this is fanfiction! From that point, I started reading more and more, mostly Infinite fanfiction. And then I decided to start writing with the encouragement of an old online friend, and here I am!
In terms of writing experience, I have never formally received education. I stopped studying English Language and Literature when I was 16, instead focusing on Art, History, and Religious Education (purely because I wanted to learn about philosophy and quantum mechanics) for my final two years at high-school. The only experience I have is through writing fanfiction. I started back in 2012, and I've developed a lot since then. I started off small, writing horror short stories and little collections. Brotherhood was the first 'long fic' I created. I was shocked that it managed to get so big because I had never created a story of that size before. Writing helped me gain experience and figure out what worked and what didn't work, what I was good at writing, and where I was lacking and needed to learn. I don't think you can really experience an art form until you start doing it. You can learn all about the techniques and the conventions, but until you pick up a pen and start writing or drawing, you won't ever know what it means to create.
My literary inspiration has always been Stephen King. Which is funny, as he has described himself as 'having diarrhea of the typewriter.' I think that applies to me sometimes. I am a bit of a wordy writer, though I've started honing it down for certain stories. Sometimes, a story needs to be floral and descriptive, sometimes, it needs to be punchy and direct. So, King was my major inspiration, especially with horror. I also enjoy the works of Poe and Lovecraft (I acknowledge the problematic themes in the work of Lovercraft and seek not to praise him as a person. He was a terrible person for sure, but sadly, he had a way with cosmic horror that is hard to find.) I also enjoy Chuck Palahniuk and the dark, seedy and overall zany stories that he has created. I like his style a lot!
In terms of inspirations for House of Cards, I was obviously inspired by the films Infernal Affairs/The Departed. American Gangster and Training Day were also major inspirations (and also because I love Denzel Washington's performances in both films. I mean, who doesn't love him?) But I also drew inspiration from other sources that were less focused on gangs, more focused on the dark, nihilistic state of the world around us. I couldn't recommend the TV series True Detective hard enough. It is one of the best series I have ever watched. It handles dark and disturbing content so well, and its fractured, unreliable story-telling and philosophical musing is some of the best I've ever seen on screen. I highly recommend checking it out, but be sure to check the content warning and triggers because it certainly isn't suitable for younger audiences and those with triggers. In terms of real-life content, I think Ross Kemps' docu-series are very good. Particularly Extreme World and On Gangs. His docu-series show the dark and disturbing side of criminal activity, the drug trade and more.Â
I became a fan of BTS [Bangtan Sonyeondan] back in 2013. I had already been a fan of K-Pop for some time by then, as I had started listening to various K-Pop and K-Rock artists back in 2009. I knew of their debut, but I had seen hundreds of new acts debut by the time that they broke into the scene, and so I didn't pay much heed. Someone I followed on Tumblr at the time kept posting about how much she loved them, especially Taehyung [BTS V/Kim Taehyung]. One day, I stumbled upon a gifset of Yoongi [BTS Suga/Min Yoongi] being sarcastic in one of their first interviews. I thought he was funny, so I decided to check them out. At the time, they had recently released We Are Bulletproof Pt. 2 [BTSâs second music video release with their debut album 2 Kool 4 Skool]. I followed them from that point, and their first comeback [A âcomebackâ refers to when a K-Pop idol group releases new music, usually done twice a year.] was also my first comeback. I liked their music [BTS released Boy In Luv and Just One Day in 2014, both music videos of songs from their Skool Luv Affair EP.], but I liked them even more as individuals. I loved watching their shows [Here is a link to BTSâs schedule during 2014 when they had their first comeback. You can find the shows and interviews they were on there.], even though they are incredibly embarrassing to look back on now. They just had so much energy and looked to be having so much fun that I was having fun just watching them. I was a fan, I liked a lot of their songs and followed their activities. But it wasn't until they released HYYH Part One [Hwa Yang Yeon Hwa Part 1 (Korean) = The Most Beautiful Moment in Life Pt. 1 (This is the title in English), released with the I Need U and Dope music videos.] that I really became a fan of their music. I had already created a couple of small horror stories for the fandom at that point. HYYH Part One [The Most Beautiful Moment in Life Pt. 1] inspired me so much that I created Brotherhood, my first 'long fic.' I joined AO3 [Archive of Our Own] and started posting there. I received so much support from fellow fans that I carried on writing, and the rest is history!
How has your experience being an ARMY [Adorable Representative MCs of the Youth, BTSâs global fan base name.] been? Did you ever leave the fandom then come back? How did you interact with others when you first got into the fandom and as you grew up?
How have you been since you wrote House of Cards? What have you been working on?Â
Are you okay with talking about how old you are now and how old you were when you wrote House of Cards?
Before you even wrote House of Cards, what inspired it? Any TV shows? Music? Movies? Books? Ideas? It could be anything.
How did you start writing House of Cards? Did you finish the entire story then publish it or did you write it as you went? What was the writing process like?
Did you have any beta readers or editors? If you did, are you still in contact with them now? How did they feel about your work?
My experience being a fan has mostly been positive over the years. In the earlier days, back around when I first started writing for the fandom, it was certainly much more positive. I've received so much support over the years, not only in my writing but in my personal life from readers and fellow fans that being a fan of the boys [The members of BTS] really has changed my life. That's not an exaggeration. I doubt I would even be here now without those years having such a positive effect on my mental health. I've never really been the kind to interact with others and form cliques within the fandom, I just like being in my own space and interacting with everyone that comes my way, I guess?
These days, I'm not as active as a writer or in fandom spaces however. I feel like my time in the fandom has started to come up and I don't know how I feel about it just yet. I feel nostalgic for the time when I was first starting out in the fandom and I didn't really know much, but everything was fun. It doesn't feel so fun now, but I mostly contribute that to the effect that Twitter has had on shaping the fandom's growth. Twitter has never been a good place for creatives within fandoms because of issues with algorithms and such. Tumblr was always the better website for hosting artistic content for a variety of reasons. So, I think the fact that everything is on Twitter now has been partly responsible for my decline in engagement and overall enjoyment. I'm currently taking a break from Twitter. The next couple of months will be what makes me either stay or leave the fandom.
Since writing House of Cards, I've been an active writer in the fandom. Over the years, I've added quite a lot of stories to my AO3 accounts and various pseuds. My largest ongoing story is another gang story, set in the 1980s, called Valentino Summers. I actually started writing and publishing it on Ao3 just four or so months after I finished House of Cardsâwhich is wild to think about. Finally finishing House of Cards seems like such a long time ago in my mind, and yet I'm still working on a story I created that same year! I like contributing horror stories to the fandom, especially in the Halloween period. I like publishing series in the month/upcoming weeks before Halloweenâthough I won't be doing so this year [2020].
When I started writing House of Cards, I would have just turned 22. It was inspired by the song 'Wires' by The Neighbourhood. I might be mistaken, but I believe that Jungkook [BTS Jungkook/Jeon Jungkook] posted a tweet with the song in it. [Jungkook did tweet about this song. Here is the English translation.] I had never heard of the band before, but my partner was a fan of their music. She sent the song to me and I was very interested in the lyrics, so I started discussing them with her. One thing led to the next, and then we had basically come up with the entire plot of the story. We just needed to create the characters. We spent a little while doing so, and then I started doing some research and started writing the story. There really isn't a grand backstory to House of Cards, it just happened so fast. We often come up with story ideas like that, and my partner is responsible for a huge amount of my stories. She has the creative visions, which I then turn into words. We make quite the team, haha~ The inspirations, I mentioned those in my previous answer regarding films and TV shows.
I published the story as I went, though I staggered the updates because I didn't want to post too frequently. I had the entire story planned out from the startââI didn't change a single aspect of the story no matter what I received in terms of feedback. I think a lot of readers assume that writers might tweak things if they sense the audience wants something to happen in terms of plot or relationships. Personally, I don't like doing that. I like sticking to my plans even if I know my vision might not be what the readers want. I think it's important for the story to be created the way I see it because my vision is what made me create it, if that makes sense.
The writing process was surprisingly smooth! You might not think it because the story is big and there are a lot of characters and plot threads to keep on top of, but it went smoothly for me. It flowed just as smoothly from start to finish as Brotherhood did. I never struggled once with writing the chapters, nor did I ever get stuck and wonder if I should change the content in order to make it easier to write. I'm surprised that I managed to complete it so easily because that's not the case with writing now! I tend to be a lot slower now, more deliberate and more open to changes in order to ease the process and the overall flow of the story. In a way, this change has been for the best. I do wonder what House of Cards would be like if I were to write it now, with my different approach to planning and writing. It would probably have a quicker flow, and the word count would either go down as a result of cuts, or go up because of additional scenes I would have likely included.
I didn't have any betas, which you can probably tell from the work. My stories are so big that I never wanted to put the burden of fixing them onto someone else. I know they are imperfect, oftentimes bloated things, but that's just what they are. I did try creating a story with another writer in the past, but it didn't go very well. She would often have conflicting opinions on things and would not have any leeway for anything I suggested, whereas I always had leeway to allow her to change things. Even to the point of completely changing the plot of the story that I had already started writing, and then allowing her to add graphic sexual content she didn't even want to be in the story. She actually stopped writing fanfiction randomly in the middle of us creating the story! She made a post about it being disgusting and nasty and then bowed out. I have no clue if she ever came back! So, my negative experience with attempting to work with someone else when creating a story kind of made me not want to have a beta. It's a wild story, I know!
House of Cards is praised for its realism and accuracy with weaponry, torture, sex, and violence. How did you research these things?
How did you come up with the gangster universe in House of Cards? How did you develop Haedogje Pa?
How did you name the original characters in House of Cards? Did any characters in particular take inspiration from existing characters in TV shows, anime, books, any type of media?
How did you decide on Vminkook as your main characters for the story? What do you see in their dynamic and them as characters?
Jimin is claimed to be one of the best written characters in the entire story. What was your thought process when characterizing him and developing him?
Taehyung is an especially dynamic character whose morals get tested time and time again in House of Cards. What was your thought process when characterizing him and developing him?
Jungkook is one of the characters that the readers spend the least amount of time getting a perspective from, but is incredibly well written in his character progression. What was your thought process when characterizing him and developing him?
When it came to various aspects in the story, I did do research. Most of it never really had an impact on the story itself. For example, I would be looking up gun models that are used by law enforcement agencies around the world and trying to find specs of them so I could learn how many bullets each gun held, or how much a magazine could hold. In action scenes, I didn't want my characters firing off 20+ bullets for a gun thatâin realityâholds far less. That's a fact that doesn't really mean much to the average reader, but it meant something to me! I've always hated how many bullets fly through the air in action scenes in films and TV shows because I'm always wondering if it's possible with the firearms featured in the scene haha~ In terms of torture, I've come across the subject through various documentaries and TV shows about gangs, crime and serial killers. I didn't really do much additional research into the topic, beyond reading up on what I had come across to make sure it wasn't fictionalised for drama purposes. Obviously, there will be some lack of realism in my story because I couldn't possibly write a realistic portrayal of gang violence and torture when I have zero personal experience with it. My aim wasn't to give the story 'full' realism (I'll explain more about that in the next question) but to simply create a world that felt real, even if there were little aspects that had to be exaggerated for the sake of the story. Taehyung's behaviour when undercover certainly broke many procedures. The only thing working in his favour that allowed him to get away with it is that the crimes he committed couldn't be directly traced to him. But a real undercover agent would never do the things that he did on behalf of the gang. Basically, this means that the entire story is unrealistic! But of course, it wouldn't be very entertaining if Taehyung simply observed from the background and didn't dirty his hands. So, I had to bend and break the rules a little!
For the universe, I knew that I couldn't base it too much in reality. Because of basic Korean law, it would have been impossible for me to write the gang operating in the way they did in the storyâespecially with guns. Most Korean gangs tend to use other forms of violence and weapons in order to control their respective areas, rather than guns. My other story, Taste of Ink, has what I would consider a more realistic approach to gang activityâwith the main weapons being knives, baseball bats, etc. and the main forms of violence being assault instead of flat-out murder. So, for the sake of allowing guns to appear in the story, I had to create a Neo-Seoul, so to speak. I took inspiration from Korean gangs, and mixed it with influences from other gang cultures in order to create 'Haedogje Pa.'
When it comes to naming original characters, I honestly don't put much thought into it. I like to use real names for inspiration. I often Google various Korean films I've watched and read the cast list in order to find interesting character and actor names. This is because I have a habit of reusing names sometimes. For example, readers of my stories might have come across a couple of Daesu and Goohee characters. Do you know where I got these names from? I picked Daesu from Oh Daesu - Choi Minsik's character in Oldboy. Goohee comes from the manhwa 'Let Dai' - he is the stubborn gang leader that actually has a good heart beneath his rough exterior. I ended up liking him the most by the end of the story, so his name is one that often comes to mind when I need to pick an original character name.
I never really consider real life dynamics when I'm writing because my stories are so detached from reality that it seems pointless including any inspiration from reality. I chose the three main characters simply because, at the time, they seemed to fit the character moulds the best. The other characters fit their respective characters so well (especially Namjoon [BTS RM/Kim Namjoon] and Yoongi) that I simply thought it was best to have Taehyung, Jimin [BTS Jimin/Park Jimin] and Jungkook as the three lead roles. I chose them more based on how I thought they could personally fit the characters, rather than focus on the dynamic. To use Taehyung as an example, I thought that he would fit the character of the informant in my story because in reality, he is intelligent and seemed like he would suit the role. For Jimin, I thought he would be a good choice for a character that some might think is vulnerable or even weak. He is actually very strong and the most important character for the plot progression. For Jungkook, I liked the thought of someone with such an innocent outer appearance hiding a dark secret.
I'm so glad that readers took to Jimin so positively on a whole. I know there are some that hated him, or that hated the fact I chose him for such a role (a 'negative' sex worker role). But Jimin is the most important character for the plot progression. It is through him that the entire plan finally culminates in the explosive finish. I wanted to treat him with care because I understood that his character could go very wrong if not handled correctly. It would have been easy for him to simply become nothing more than a sexual prop, should the story have focused too much on Taehyung and Jungkook as the key players. So, I decided to subvert it by giving Jimin the ultimate hand in the story and allowing him to have more control than Jungkook in the end. If Jimin had not decided to follow through with the plan, if he had decided to snitch or had simply refused to do his part in exposing the gang, the story would've ended drastically differently. But I also didn't want to write Jimin taking control of the entire situation at the end because it would've felt ingenuine. He is a character that has been deeply affected by a lifetime of trauma. I was worried that some might take my portrayal of his trauma the wrong way, and see him not as a character that has suffered immense mental damage but rather as an annoying, weak character that gets in the way of more 'interesting' dynamics. I'm sure there will be readers that think that. Mentally traumatized individuals are often seen in such negative light, be they fictional characters or real people. When writing his character, especially in the later scenes, I wanted to make sure the trauma he experienced would shape his behaviour. Writing the scene of him getting ready to leave, when he is taking his pills and he doesn't think he can do it, it was hard. It was hard getting into that headspace of feeling so powerless in the moment and knowing that freedom is in reach, but not knowing how to achieve it. He was a difficult character to write, but I think he turned out just right in the end.
Taehyung was probably the best character to write. I love characters that start off so morally upright and pristine, and by the end of the story, their backs are bending and close to breaking from the weight of their conscience and misdeeds. His character has many facets to him that made his perspectives so interesting to tackle. From his green days in the gang, where he is horrified by the violence he sees, to the changes in his psyche as he starts to become desensitized to it all. Fundamentally, Taehyung begins the story as a good man, a hero, but by the end, there is no black and white thinking. He has become grey, muddied from his time spent in the gang. Is he a hero for bringing them down? Would a hero do the things that he did in order to bring down the gang? He killed people. He tortured people. He threatened a man with a gun, a man he knew had a deepset fear of guns that would severely trigger him. I think it all depends on how the reader sees it. The hardest thing to write for his character was his troubled descent into the relationship between him, Jungkook and Jimin, and how it affects his thought processes and emotions. I didn't want House of Cards to be seen as a romantic story when I created it. If readers see it that way, they are more than entitled to their own interpretations. I cannot tell them how they can interpret my art, that is not my role as the creator. I don't know if I effectively portrayed the co-dependency between the three main characters as well as I would've liked. But I had never tackled such a story and themes before, and so it was all new to me.
I didn't know that Jungkook had the least perspective from the three main characters. Similarly, I never really put that much effort into creating and developing his character! Jungkook simply 'happened' in the moment. He would appear in the chapter, and then his character would basically take control of the scene. I never really knew what he was going to say or do beyond my rough plans for each scene. I just waited until he appeared and let the creative spirit flow through me. That's how he came to be! I've had that happen many times in the past with charactersâthey have a life of their own and I've no control over them. In my story, Brotherhood, Taehyung happened the same way. It was impossible to write his character in that story because he was so wild and free-spirited that it didn't feel right unless his behaviour was a total spur-of-the-moment reaction to the other characters and new plot points. But with Jungkook in House of Cards, I don't know why I didn't have him planned out like the others. It's interesting to think that he might've had a good progression when I never planned any of it in detail!
Were there any original characters you particularly liked writing or enjoyed?
When you wrote for the BTS hyung line, how did you determine their roles in the story and characterize each of them?
Is there a reason behind Namjoon saying âbrotherâ or was it a consciously written character quirk?
When you handled more serious subject matter in House of Cards, how did you feel when writing it? Were you ever startled by your own work?
Was there any type of purposeful titling for the fanfiction chapters?
What was your reason for House of Cardsâ open ending?
I liked writing Lim, the original informant that helped Taehyung join the gang. I like writing characters that come across as sleazy. In his case, the sleaze was all an act and wasn't true to his character; he was affecting it for the sake of creating a persona. But I enjoy writing absolute sleaze balls tooâthe kind of guys that have chest hair and wear gold chains and thick watches, who practically ooze oil. I just find them fun! Lim was a good teacher, even when he was rough around the edges. It was sad doing what I had to do to him for the sake of the plot. But I feel like Lim understood the game as well as everyone else, and so he knew he was running on borrowed time.Â
Of course, I loved writing Bae Goohee too! He was an absolute bastard! I loved writing this figure that is spoken about throughout the story as a frightening man, one so brutal that the readers are already wary of him before he even appears in the story. I believe that Taehyung refers to him as a 'guard dog' at some point. I think Bae is the scariest character in the story for me because he is so ruthless and willing to do any order that the Jeon clan give to him. That kind of blind and unwavering devotion is frightening!
I also enjoyed writing Sungah and Jangmi. I think they're the only female characters in the story that have dialogue? Sungah has a great backstory that I unfortunately couldn't go into too much in the story, but it shaped her character a lot. I like how frank and intelligent she isâshe holds her own even in a department filled with men that receive far more praise than she does simply because she is a woman. She also allowed me to add an angle about the unfair treatment of women in jobs that have power, drawing parallels with how Taehyung faces discrimination from his fellow officers when his sexuality is abruptly revealed during the investigation. As for Jangmi, I just liked writing about the wife of a mob boss! And not one that is simply a trophy wife, but actually has a lot of power and influence across the city. I wish I had been able to feature her more, alongside her husband, Jeon himself. But I like the scenes they appear in and I enjoyed writing them.
For the rest of the members, I had Namjoon and Hoseok [BTS J-Hope/Jung Hoseok]'s characters planned right from the start. I had also created plans for Yoongi and Seokjin [BTS Jin/Kim Seokjin], but I wasn't sure how much of a role they would play in the overall story. As I started writing them, I realised that Yoongi would play an important role in both Taehyung and Jimin's character development, and so he ended up featuring a lot more than I had expected. I planned their jobs and then let them influence how I would write them. Namjoon and Hoseok's characters came naturally. Yoongi's character completely took over his job role and basic description and became a really strong character that I'm proud of. Seokjin was a little trickier because he doesn't appear in too many scenesâbut the scenes he does are integral to the plot. I needed to make sure that his character said everything he needed to in his limited scenes. He has quite the bombshell to drop after all! Seokjin was also tricky because I wanted him to have an air of mystery around him. I wanted him to be the kind of guy that not even Taehyung and his police connections would be able to unearth much about; a ghost in the system. I would've also liked for him to feature more in the story, but I feel like his character appeared in the essential scenes that the story needed. He was going to feature more in the planned sequel, being one of the first characters to appear alongside Yoongi. He was going to serve an important role, so I'm disappointed that I didn't get to show those scenes to readers.
With Namjoon, I wanted to portray him as a mature character, but not one that was conservative and stiff. I thought about having him say things like 'man' but that seemed too casual and didn't suit his character. 'Man' made him seem more like a surfer than a police officer. But when he said 'brother' in one of the scenes, I realised the word suited him better. It was fraternal, and it allowed him to show some affection towards the other characters without having to have physical contact with them. It's not the only Namjoon I've written that says 'brother' a lot. In Valentino Summers, Namjoon has experience with hippies in the neighbourhood that he lives in, so he also refers to other characters like Jimin as 'brother.' It just seems to suit him! I guess it's because I like creating Namjoon characters that are intelligent and mature, but still have a gentle and warm presence. I could picture him saying it in real life (I'm certain he already has!)
When writing serious subject matter, I'm surprised to admit that I was never shocked by what I was writing! I guess it's because I already knew that I was going to be handling dark themes. I wouldn't have tackled such subjects had I not felt comfortable doing so. Dark content isn't for everyone, and by that I don't simply mean consuming it. Creating it can be very difficult for some writers, and can even cause distress. It's not easy diving into a world that is filled with crime, pain and fear. It's even harder putting yourself into the shoes of a character that is suffering/has suffered. I was never writing in a desensitised state though. Far from it. I'm actually very sensitive to violence in reality. In fiction, it depends on the violenceâbut I'm usually not too affected by it. I've been a fan of horror since I was a child, and so I've seen a lot of nasty films filled with gore and 'shocking' deaths that never really had much of an effect on me. Unrealistic violence doesn't scare me. But when it comes to personal violence, that is always frightening to me. It's far scarier writing a scene where a character feels threatened by another character and doesn't know what is going to happen to them then, say, writing a scene of a character dying a bloody, ridiculous death in a horror story. Personal violence is much more realistic, therefore it is more unsettling to write. In House of Cards, the violence is very personal. It's in your face, it's inescapable for the characters that are involved in it. But at no point did I ever feel like I needed to stop writing because I was uncomfortable or scared by the content. If I had been uncomfortable, it would have been very reckless of me to continue writing the story.
My word of advice to fellow dark content writers: it's always important to recognise your own boundaries. There's nothing wrong with removing dark content from a story if you get a bad vibe or feel strange when writing/reviewing it. Always follow your gut instincts and never put out work that you don't like.
When writing stories, I vary between titling the chapters and leaving them blank. For House of Cards, I cannot remember the exact method for naming the chapters. Sometimes, the title comes to me when I am writing the plans and I have an idea that just suits the mood of the chapter. Other times, I have finished the entire chapter and I have to spend some time reviewing the content to decide that the title will be. In some cases, I have finished most of a whole story and I'm still not certain what to title it! I feel like with House of Cards, the titles came after the chapters were finished, or at least when they were works-in-progress.
There are some titles that really stand out to me. 'Nice Teeth' for example, is a really ridiculous title. Going into the chapter, I don't think many readers would've imagined what it could mean. 'Submachine Sodomy' is even funnier. I really can't believe I chose that as a title! I'll bet a lot of readers saw it and thought, "Oh no! Not another gunplay scene!" Luckily for them, it wasn't a reference to Jungkook's predilection for firearms in bed.
In terms of chapter titles that I really like: 'Delusions of Grandeur,' 'I Own This Fucking City,' 'Sleeping Dogs Bite' and 'Carpe-fucking-Diem.' I just feel like these titles are very well suited to the contents of the chapters. They are the kind of titles that have bite to them, that hint at action or an important plot point.
As for the open ending, there are a couple of reasons. First of all, I had planned to continue the story in a sequel that would pick up after the events of House of Cards, roughly a year on after the investigation. However, I did not pursue this sequel. I wanted House of Cards to end on an open note for the sequel to continue the story. When it comes to certain stories, I just feel that closed endings aren't always necessary. I often enjoy stories with open endings. With House of Cards, it didn't seem right just closing the book and saying it was over. There was still so much that needed to be explored. Unfortunately, I decided to not continue it. But I still think that House of Cards' ending fits the story.
Were there any scenes or moments or lines in House of Cards that you were particularly proud of or want to highlight?
If you were to write the Yoomin sequel to House of Cards, how wouldâve that looked like?
How were readersâ reactions to your work in the beginning?
Did any reader comments stick with you in particular?
How did you take the criticisms and hatred towards House of Cards for its serious subject matter? When did those types of comments start appearing? Also, where did the hatred come from? Twitter? Tumblr? Ao3 comments? Did people harass you at all or hurt you? How did you heal from that?
House of Cards has a lot of scenes. I'm proud of most of them and I think I did the best I could when writing them. I do not really like the sex scenes, but that is because I wanted to write them in a dirty, sleazy way. If I could, I would change them. I like the action scenes, especially the Gold Monkey Casino and police raid scenes. Action scenes are hard to write! Fight scenes in particular are so tricky. I often sit there, choreographing the fights so I can describe them! I loved writing Yoongi's introduction to the story, when he walks into the scene wearing nothing but his underpants.
One scene that I really liked writing is the scene where Namjoon and Hoseok investigate the USB stick that Taehyung sends to them. I personally love Namjoon and Hoseok's characters. I always enjoyed writing them. In this scene, I liked getting to write them in a setting that was not the police department office. A scene where they got to relax and banter with each other, even though they were still working. They discover a horrifying crime ring in the city, but they are left with no choice but to keep it secret because they do not want to risk blowing Taehyung's cover. I do not know why I really like this scene, I just do.
In the sequel, which focused primarily on Jimin and Yoongi, the plans were to have them reunite through Seokjinâwho has avoided jail time through a plea deal with the SMPA. They undergo a healing process together as they try to come to terms with what happened to them. Yoongi has a lot of unhealed trauma from his childhood, much like Jimin, which I only got to briefly touch upon in House of Cards. They grow closer from bonding over their traumatic experiences, and they become happier and healthier as a result. Taehyung and Seokjin were also going to be main characters, with Jungkook, Namjoon and Hoseok making supporting appearances over the duration of the story. It was going to be drastically different from House of Cards because it would be lacking in action and violence. It would have been much more intimate, with much more scenes of characters talking and discovering things about one another.
I cannot remember early reactions to the story, I just know they were positive. There was a lot of positive support from the start. As I updated and started to get more and more into the story, I received a lot of support on tumblr too. I started posting chapter previews there, as I used to get asks [On Tumblr, users are able to ask bloggers questions through an âAskâ function. This can be done anonymously or with their own blog username associated with the question.] requesting them. I got A LOT of asks on my original Tumblr from readers that wanted to discuss the characters and certain scenes. It was really interesting seeing just how much the readers were interested in the story, so much so that they wanted to learn even more about the characters and the universe I had created.
Through House of Cards, I have received comments and messages from readers that had addictions. They told me about how they recognised their own behaviors through Taehyung, and this helped them realise what was happening to them. Those comments stuck with me for obvious reasons. I have family members with addiction issues, and knowing that I could help some stranger I have never met before come to terms with their own addictive behaviours had a massive impact on me. Funnily enough, a negative comment stuck with me. It was not a bad comment, by no means meant to cause offence. It was a comment that was left on the story when I was posting the early chapters. I recall the reader asking when the story was going to pick up the pace because it was too slow. It stuck with me because, at this point in the story, Taehyung had already trained to become an undercover agent, had enrolled in the gang, had met and interacted with Jungkook, and had murdered a man. I was surprised that this amount of development had been seen as 'slow' by a reader, as I had thought the plot had been moving very fast.
I never really had any hate posted on the story when I was updating it. I got angry reactions when I had finished it. Because the story had not ended the way some readers had wanted, I think that was what caused the negative reactions. On my original Tumblr, I even got an ask about how an anon reader was going to write their own ending because my one was bad. I told them that I did not want them to take my story and change it like that. I have no idea if they ever posted the ending anywhere. The angry reactions were mostly from shippers, who were upset with the story not ending the way they had wanted. To them, I ask: what were you expecting from the story? I thought it was always obvious that Taehyung was going to do what he had set out to do from the start, so I do not think I misled readers at all. It was a story about an undercover agent taking down a gangâand that is what I wrote.
I know there was some animosity towards me on Twitter too. Twitter is a whirlpool of negativity, I am not surprised. Writing House of Cards made me appear problematic. My partner used to follow an author a long time back, who tweeted about me being problematicâdespite having never interacted with me or admittedly read my stories. It was shocking to me that people were making assumptions of who I was as a person based on a story I created. I have never created stories with the aims of hurting or upsetting others. I am a very quiet and private person, and I hate the idea of hurting others. It was strange to me that people could assume me to be this cruel or even dangerous individual, intent on hurting others, because I created a fictional story. Do they think the same of script writers for television shows? Or film directors, who create films with dark subject matter? Do they think published authors are problematic people for writing dark and disturbing content? Do they think certain genres should not exist because they do not personally like them?
I do think it is strange that fan fiction writers are placed on these ridiculously high pedestals of moral absolutism. Fan fiction was created to be a space for creative outlet for marginalised individuals, particularly queer individuals. The heavy censorship of dark and unusual content is putting this entire ethos at danger. I understand not wanting to have certain topics included in stories because there is a risk that the content can be used for grooming or can be presented in a way that can negatively affect young consumers' perceptions (like pedophilia for example.) I certainly agree that there needs to be boundaries in place to stop the community from being flooded with such illegal content. But I think there is a difference between wanting to remove dangerous content, and wanting to get rid of content you do not like. Content can be problematic to you, but that does not make it dangerous, illegal, or bad. For some readers, the content they create is their way of dealing with trauma. Maybe this is not healthy for them. But that is their decision to make, not yours.
I orphaned the story because I did not want to handle the potential backlash. To put it simply, I do not handle negative criticism well. Not because I am stuck-up and think I am perfect, but because I am a very anxious person. Just reading angry comments makes me feel very uncomfortable, often nauseous. I know that House of Cards has received overwhelmingly positive feedback from readers, and for that I am thankful. But I had to distance myself for the sake of my own mental health. Since orphaning it, it exploded in popularity. I am thankful that I orphaned it because that amount of attention would frighten me a lot, haha~
What was your reaction to the fanfiction trailer by Sappiamur?
How did you come to the decision to reveal your real name in the end note of House of Cards?
How did you feel when you finished House of Cards?
How did you come to the decision to orphan House of Cards?
Did you ever anticipate the overwhelming fan reaction to House of Cards?
How do you feel knowing that House of Cards is one of the most read fanfictions on Ao3?
What do you want House of Cards to be remembered for?
What do you hope people take away from House of Cards?
Why do you think House of Cards became so popular?
I had to go back and watch it. It's been some time since I last have, and I'm still as amazed by it now as I was back then. The trailer is insane. I cannot imagine how much work went into making it. It's so good and it fits the vibes of the story to perfection. I think the first time I watched it, I was in shock. I must have repeated it at least 10 times in a row, just to make sure it was real and I wasn't imagining it. Then I think I screamed about it on my social media accounts, haha~ If you reading this have not watched the trailer, consider doing so. I promise you won't be disappointed.
Back when I first started posting fanfics, I used to get a lot of asks wanting to know my name, my pronouns, stuff like that. I thought by adding my name at the end of the stories, it would help cut down on these requests. But I also did so because I used to get a lot of asks referring to me as 'author-nim' and I didn't like being addressed by this honorific. I'm not Korean so I have no right to receive that honorific. So, I included my real name so readers could address me with it when sending me asks and interacting with me. I don't add my name at the end of my stories now, but my name is in my Twitter bio for those that want to know.
When I finished it, I felt relieved! I was so calm in the moment! Looking back on it, I can't remember much. But I do remember finishing House of Cards without any issues. The final chapters flowed smoothly, it all clicked into place, and I had a great time writing them.
I came to the decision to orphan the story after several nights of contemplation. I was considering deleting the story, along with a few others, but my partner and some friends told me I shouldn't do so. They suggested orphaning it instead. So, I did so. I didn't want to delete it in case readers that had started it had not gotten to finish it yet. I would've felt very mean robbing them of the opportunity to finish the story like that. I don't regret orphaning it instead of deleting it. I didn't want to destroy the story, I just needed some distance between me and the story.
I didn't anticipate it, and I still don't understand it! I'm shocked that House of Cards got the reaction that it received. Do I think it's a good story? Yes, I think that I worked hard to create a story that is enjoyable to read. But did I ever think it would get the reaction it did? Not in a million years! I thought that it would be one of my more popular stories because a) the pairings and b) the content. Gang stories usually tend to get a lot of attention because it's a popular genre in fanfiction. I just didn't expect it to reach such a vast amount of hits, kudos and comments.
I'm in shock that it is one of the most read stories on AO3. I don't think I will ever be able to create another story that will garner that kind of attention and feedback. It's a once in a lifetime thing, so I'm immensely proud of myself for achieving such a feat. But really, it's all because of the readers that it achieved such a goal. I'm so thankful for every single one of them.
I just want it to be remembered for being enjoyable, I think. I don't have any grand and lofty ambitions for the story. I think so long as the readers enjoyed it, that is all that matters.
I'm not sure what I would like readers to take away from House of Cards. I guess I want them to reflect on the idea of morality and that not everything is black-and-white. Good people can do bad things, and bad things can happen to good people. It's hard to answer this question because House of Cards isn't a story that I consider to have deep messages in it? There are no messages about acceptance and love and healthy relationships and such, like some of my other stories.
Honestly? I don't know what made it get so popular. I assume it's because of the pairings or the setting of the story. I know that a lot of readers say they love the story because of how well it's written, but I can't comment on that as the creator, haha~ I can't say my story is well-written as I'm not consuming it from an outside perspective. What I can say is that I do think I created a story that has a lot of twists and turns and betrayals, which I think adds to the enjoyment factor.
How are you now in 2020? Are you writing professionally in real life at all?Â
How do you feel BTS fanfiction has changed over time? Since youâve been writing for it for so long.Â
Do you have any messages for people who may read this interview in the future?
I'm not writing professionally. I have self-published two books via Amazon and Lulu. One was a basic re-branding of my story babes in the woods. The other was a total rewrite of Brotherhood, which I called 'Brothers,' featuring a whole new setting and roster of characters. I published them as readers showed an interest in reading original stories. I have been considering rewriting House of Cards as an original work in the future, but I can't say for certain that I will do so.
Since I started writing, I think there's been a lot of changes in the fandomânot only in fanfiction but in general. There's been popular trends that have come and gone (I was around for the explosion of social media and text-based AUs, which I personally am not a fan of) but there's also been a lot of push for more inclusive content. I'm really happy by the amount of inclusive content that I see these days. Despite some pushback from non-queer fans that sometimes have an issue with queer subject matter (for example, trans characters) I think it's wonderful that artists of all colours, genders and sexualities are now proudly creating content they want to see, and not simply just what is 'in demand' from the fandom.
The message that I would like to share with readers of this interview is: stay healthy, stay happy, and most importantly, stay you. I also want to take this moment to tell them this - if you are considering becoming a creator, but you are worried about reception to your work, or that it might not be good enough, stop right now! Stop doubting yourself and just give it a shot! I was once like you, scared that my weird and niche interests and writing would be ignored or even mocked by the fandom because no one would like it. Had I not decided to take the plunge, my life would be so drastically different. I've made so many friends, fallen in love, and completely changed my life by creating fan content. It can be scary, but once you take the leap, you will find your feet coming down on solid earth without any danger.
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Literary Agents Accepting Queries 2020
A note; these agents are according to my research as of June 12, 2020. To find more information on these agents, just look up their name and agency. How to query to these agents differ, so it would be wise to look into them more. Bolded is the categories, genres, and/or tropes that said agent is interested in. This list was put together by me, and it was only the agents whoâs name start with A. Even though this is labeled as YA, many of these agents are interested in other genres.
* Adria Goetz (Martin Literary Management), Mill Creek, WA General fiction Suspense/thriller Fantasy/science fiction Juvenile fiction Religious
* Adriann Ranta Zurhellen (Foundry Literary + Media), New York, NY all genres and for all age groups, but has a penchant for edgy, dark, unusual voices, unique settings, and everyman stories told with a new spin. She loves gritty, realistic, true-to-life narratives with conflicts based in the real world; womenâs fiction and nonfiction; accessible, pop nonfiction in science, history, and craft; and smart, fresh, genre-bending works for children.
* Adrienne Rosado (Stonesong Literary Agency), New York, NY adult and childrenâs fiction, as well as select non-fiction in the areas of pop-science, business, memoir, and humor. In both adult and childrenâs fiction, she is looking for contemporary, mystery, historical, thriller, fantasy, and anything with a wickedly dark sense of humor. Sheâs especially drawn to multicultural fiction, lgbtq+ works, and stories about people from atypical walks of life. She is not currently looking for poetry or childrenâs picture books.
* Agnes Carlowicz (Carol Mann Agency), New York, NY both fiction and non-fiction, with a special passion for literature that amplifies underrepresented voices and subverts the status quo. Among others, she enjoys: intersectional feminism, millennial self-care, female-driven memoir, true-crime, and humorous pop culture.
* Aimee Ashcraft (Brower Literary & Management), New York, NY busy seeking out stories that feature all-encompassing worlds and compelling female characters. She loves books that are told from an original point of view and are more addictive than a good Netflix binge
* Albert Longden (Albert T. Longden Agency), Bloomfield, NJ (AAR Member) General fiction, Mystery, Romance, Suspense/thriller, Fantasy/science fiction, Biography, Business/investing/finance, Sports, Paranormal (want writers that are preferably experienced and are willing to listen to productive critiques of their work)
* Albert Zuckerman (Writers House), New York, NY books in all adult categories, fiction and non-fiction. And lately Iâve been enjoying working with some YA and Middle Grade authors. I'm interested in working with a few more novelists, literary and commercial
* Alec Shane (Writers House), New York, NY mystery, thrillers (though heâs experiencing terrorist fatigue at the moment), suspense, horror, historical fiction, literary fiction, and middle grade and young adult fiction. He DOESNT want Romance, straight sci-fi, high fantasy, picture books, self-help, womenâs fiction, food, or travel memoir.
* Alex Glass (Glass Literary Management), New York, NY General fiction, Mystery, Suspense/thriller, Juvenile fiction, Biography, History, Mind/body/spirit, Health, Lifestyle, Cookbooks, Sports, Literary fiction, Memoir, Narrative nonfiction, Pop culture
* Alexa Stark (Trident Media Group), New York, NY drawn to literary debuts with a unique voice and perspective, stories about dysfunctional friendships and families, edgy coming-of-age tales, character-driven suspense and thrillers, and fiction that delves into the surreal
* Alexandra Levick (Writers House), New York, NY Picture book author-illustrators, a wide range of middle grade and YA, and more speculative-leaning or genre-bent upmarket adult works. Iâm committed to working with writers from diverse backgrounds and am looking to put forth a list of outstanding creators who will be able to provide windows, mirrors, and sliding glass doors (thank you, Dr. Rudine Sims Bishop) into all kinds of experiences. Iâm particularly looking for own-voices stories about historically underrepresented characters, identities, and cultures.
* Alexandra Machinist (International Creative Management), New York, NY Commercial fiction Literary fiction Upmarket women's fiction Historical fiction Suspense Fantasy Young adult Middle grade
* Alexandra Penfold (Upstart Crow Literary), New York, NY specializes in young picture books, middle-grade fiction, and young adult
* Alexandra Weiss (Jennifer DeChiara Literary Agency), New York, NY contemporary, magical realism, and light SFF. Iâd also like to see more rom-coms that make my heart feel warm. dedicated to representing marginalized creators and diverse books, including #ownvoices. Iâm actively seeking LGBTQIA+, POC, gender fluid, neurodiverse, and disabled voices for all age ranges and across all genres.
* Alexis Hurley (InkWell Management), New York, NY domestic works in the areas of literary and commercial fiction, memoir, narrative non-fiction and more
* Ali Herring (Spencerhill Associates), Lakewood Ranch, FL Iâm open to all YA: Contemporary, fantasy, sci-fi, speculative, horror, romance, issue books (though I have a few already on my list so not my top choice), etc. All the contemporary fantasy right now. Contemporary with a speculative element YA suspense/thrillers All the horror right now, or horror-bordering Anything with an edge Fun teen romance like To All the Boys Iâve Loved Before Vibrant Teen rom-coms Dystopian or failing Utopia/Utopian worlds (fresh government or control system in place or none at all) Near-future dystopian where the world is not cleaned up and pretty. I want a sense of the horror but without tons of gore. Bold unexplored settings
* Alice Martell (The Martell Agency), New York, NY Open to all/most Genres Excluding: Fantasy, Science Fiction.
* Alice Speilburg (Speilburg Literary Agency), Louisville, KY In YA Fiction, I'm looking for diverse retellings of classic stories, stories rooted in mythology, contemporary fantasy with magical/supernatural worlds alongside our own (but not necessarily "urban," rural & suburban magical systems could be nice). Across the board, I'm looking for an inclusive cast of characters, across gender, sexual orientation, race, religion, and mental health spectrums.
* Alice Tasman (Jean Naggar Literary Agency), New York, NY Alice's fiction tastes, for young adult and adult books, ranging from commercial, literary fiction and history to thrillers and suspense, and women's fiction.
* Alicia Brooks (Jean Naggar Literary Agency), New York, NY she is looking for Memoir, Narrative Nonfiction, Self-Help, Pop Culture, Literary Fiction, Commercial Fiction, YA Fiction, Mystery/Crime, and Historical Fiction
* Alison Picard (Alison J. Picard Agency), Cotuit, MA Adult fiction and non-fiction, children's and young adult NO: short stories, poetry, plays, screenplays or sci-fi/fantasy.
* Allison Hunter (Janklow & Nesbit Associates), New York, NY literary and commercial fiction, especially women's fiction, as well as memoir, narrative nonfiction, cultural studies and pop culture. She is always looking for funny female writers, great love stories, campus novels, family epics, smart beach reads and for non-fiction projects that speak to the current cultural climate
* Alyssa Jennette (Stonesong Literary Agency), New York, NY childrenâs and adult fiction and picture books, graphic novels, and select pop culture nonfiction. She values diversity and inclusion; in fiction she enjoys ensemble casts with distinct voices, stories about poor characters and communities, and formats that are specific to a story and give it its own context. Alyssa is particularly interested in art/art history/art conservation, archaeology, mythology, language/translation, and criminal justice reform
* Alyssa Reuben (Paradigm Literary and Talent Agency), New York, NY adult, young adult, and the occasional middle grade fiction as well as smart, platform driven, nonfiction ranging from pop-culture, lifestyle, cookbooks, and narrative to memoir. She gravitates toward voice-driven non-fiction presenting a fresh point of view and particularly loves novels with an edge or a great romance arc.
* Amanda Leuck (Spencerhill Associates), Lakewood Ranch, FL contemporary and speculative fiction that explore social issues, YA fantasy based in mythology across cultures, historical novels that spark my need to know more, characters with disability, chronic illness or mental illness - that doesn't necessarily drive the plot, #ownvoices, women and girls in STEM, romantic plots and subplots that surprise me, LGBTQIA+ characters, the intersection of science and religion, or magic and convention, where what is real is not clear, animal and ecological themes
* Amanda Rutter (Red Sofa Literary), St. Paul, MN Open to a broad Audience, including: Adults, Middle grades, Young adults. Fantasy. Science fiction.
* Amelia Appel (Triada U.S. Literary Agency), Sewickley, PA For YA, she is particularly interested in stories with a savvy protagonist and a slightly dark tone that deal with serious coming-of-age issues well.
* Amy Elizabeth Bishop (Dystel, Goderich & Bourret, LLC), New York, NY Fiction-wise, I'm interested in both upmarket and literary womenâs fiction, mysteries, and fiction from diverse and underrepresented authors. I'd love more literary fiction from women of color. I'm choosy about my historical fiction, preferring it voice-driven and female-centric, focusing on the stories of those that history has largely chosen to not tell. [[A bit tuckered out from American Revolution, Civil War, WWII, and Vietnam War, so I'm not really looking in that space.]] I'm always interested in stories that are not set in Western Europe or the East/West Coast. I'd love to see more speculative fiction/light horror, though I'm not as interested in science fiction or fantasy in the adult space at this time. I'm also looking for a literary thriller/literary suspense a la THE TWELVE LIVES OF SAMUEL HAWLEY or BARBED WIRE HEART. In YA: would love a smart contemporary rom-com that isn't just boy meets girl in high school (or if it is, it has to be a seriously new story), a fascinating, creepy retelling in the vein of Carmen Maria Machado, and light horror. I'd love to find a multi-generational story and am particularly interested in the intricacies of family (and sister!!) relationships. I'm a sucker for stories that take place in closed environments (like boarding schools) and though I appreciate romantic elements, I'm also eager to see narratives where a happy ending for women isn't necessarily a relationship. #ownvoices, always, please. Anything with some serious creep to it!
* Amy Brewer (Metamorphosis Literary Agency), Kansas City, MO Sheâs seeking: Romances of all kinds; if your plot revolves around love or angst or both, send it to her. She is also looking for general fiction, LGBTQ+, womenâs fiction, book club reads, and quirky humor.
* Amy Jameson (A+B Works), New York, NY loves childrenâs literature, and is actively seeking Middle Grade and Young Adult projects.
* Amy Rennert (The Amy Rennert Agency), Tiburon, CA General fiction Mystery Biography Business/investing/finance History Mind/body/spirit Health Lifestyle Sports Literary fiction Narrative non-fiction especially memoir and reportage
* Amy Stapp (Wolfson Literary Agency), New York, NY Mystery/suspense Contemporary romance Contemporary coming-of-age Historical fiction Southern Gothic
* Amy Stern (Sheldon Fogelman Agency), New York, NY Summer camps, boarding schools, reality television, kids who are in some way extraordinary, puzzles, puns. I really love stories that involve close family relationships that both enhance and complicate the protagonists' lives. I want to see more mental illness stories that aren't just about diagnosis and LGBTQIA+ stories that aren't just about coming out.
* Andrea Barzvi (Empire Literary), New York, NY General fiction Romance Suspense/thriller Juvenile fiction Biography Business/investing/finance Mind/body/spirit
* Andrea Somberg (Harvey Klinger), New York, NY Upmarket fiction (i.e., bookclub fiction) that has a twist or sheds light on an intriguing issue Novels that explore cultural heritage YA or Adult novels that are based on a true story from the 20th century YA contemporary love stories/romantic comedies Epic fantasy, especially ones set in a non-Western culture, military sf or space opera Magical realism for the adult, YA or MG market. YA and MG novels that feature diverse protagonists YA psychological thrillers MG mystery novels MG novels that are funny and are illustrated MG or YA novels that'll make me cry Nonfiction for MG or YA audiences Any novel with great characters and a compelling storyline Unique nonfiction
* Andy Ross (Andy Ross Literary Agency), Oakland, CA (AAR Member) narrative non-fiction, history, politics and current events, science, journalism, cultural subjects. We also work with literary and young adult fiction
* Angela Rinaldi (The Angela Rinaldi Literary Agency), Los Angeles, CA (AAR Member) I am actively looking for fiction commercial, literary, mainstream womenâs fiction, multicultural, suspense, book club fiction â novels where the story lends itself to discussion.
* Anjali Singh (Ayesha Pande Literary), New York, NY Her interests are wide-ranging and include literary as well as popular fiction, young adult, womenâs, African-American and international fiction. She is also seeking authors of nonfiction, including biography, history, popular culture, cultural commentary, and memoir. She is particularly drawn to distinctive, original voices.
* Ann Behar (Scovil Galen Ghosh Literary Agency), New York, NY searching for wonderful children's books, from picture books to YA, ever since. I am looking for anything that is beautifully written, with a strong, distinct voice and characters that come alive on the page. Ideally, a book should grab my attention from the very beginning and hold it there, and leave me thinking about it for a few days after I am finished.
* Ann Rose (Prospect Agency), Upper Montclair, NJ YA of all genres: But especially stories that have heart and humor. I want you to transport me to new worlds--even if those "worlds" are in the middle of Iowa. But especially if its fantasy, I really want you to take me there and show me something I haven't seen before. I'd love some fantasy that's based on something other than western cultures. I'm always looking for strong character who are willing to stand up for their convictions--whether it be with their brains or their brawn. Give me fabulous friendship stories (and some no so fabulous ones). LGBTQIA+ stories!!! I'd still really love a story where two girls are running against each other for class president and then they fall in love. In both YA and MG I don't shy away from stories that deal with issues kids are dealing with today. I will say, if you are going to discuss topics like suicide make sure you've done your homework--proper language matters. I'd love to see more YA thriller--not necessarily gore but a story that keeps me on the edge of my seat, guessing until the very end. I'm still looking for my YA version of CLUE (and if it has three different endings, even better.) Which means mystery is a go for me, too. I'd love some YA that deals with toxic masculinity. A funny how to survive high school book with tips and tricks how to make the most out of your four years would be good. Show me characters who are beautifully flawed doing the wrong things for all the right reasons. Give me body positive MC's. Unique sports books--crossfit, ultimate Frisbee, rock climbing, mountain biking, roller derby, and even speed walkers. Oh, and twins - good twins, evil twins, twins that get along, twins that don't, rom-coms where twins switch places and hijinks happen... anything goes. Historicals that tackle things other than WW2--bonus points if there are badass women in in history.
* Anne Bohner (Pen and Ink Literary), New York, NY commercial women's fiction, romance, YA and popular nonfiction.
* Anne Hawkins (John Hawkins & Associates), New York, NY (AAR Member) Fiction of all sorts, non-fiction (contemporary journalism, history, biography, etc.), juveniles (although primarily young adult and middle grades, since we donÂŽt specialize in illustrators, but having said that I should add that we represent several of the best), science-fiction and fantasy.
* Anne Tibbets (Red Sofa Literary), St. Paul, MN Right now, she's acquiring YA and Adult: Thrillers, Mysteries, Horror, Romance, Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Historicals.
* Annelise Robey (Jane Rotrosen Agency), New York, NY womenâs fiction, romance, historical fiction, YA, fantasy, mystery, and suspense, and is always looking for exciting new voices in fiction
* Arielle Datz (Dunow, Carlson & Lerner Literary Agency), New York, NY (AAR Member) She is looking for literary and commercial fiction (mostly adult, some YA), featuring unusual stories and voices.
* Ashley Lopez (Waxman Literary Agency), New York, NY Ashley is looking for literary and young adult fiction, narrative nonfiction, memoir, and cultural criticism. Most importantly she seeks authors with a strong point of view and an eye for language.
This is the end of my fist alphabetical list of agents accepting queries in 2020. I hope this list was helpful to you, and wish you good luck in your querying!
#writeblr#writblr#writing advice#writing tips#query#queries#querying#writing resources#publishing#isabellaspeaks
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First off, itâs so lovely to see you back! â€ïž I hope everythingâs been going well for you!
Secondly, Iâve been planning a post-quarantine road trip (something to lift my spirits, and that I can really start saving for) and was wondering if you might have some opinions? Iâd mostly like to stick to sites regarding the American Civil War and the American Revolution. Iâve planned to visit Gettysburg and Mount Vernon, but other than that Iâve fallen short. Since you were posting about some of the places youâve visited I figured you might have some suggestions. (:
Iâm so happy to be back!! I missed you so much, xoxo â€ïžâ€ïž I hope everything is well with you too!!
I feel you so much!! I need a post-quarantine road trip too! Iâd love to offer some suggestions!!! â€ïž
âąMost recently, I took a ride up to Valley Forge, and it was absolutely beautiful! All the buildings (Lafayetteâs and Washingtonâs quarters) are unfortunately closed due to C*VID, but this is something Iâd still 100% recommended! You can drive the whole thing and park (there are several spots, everywhere!) to get out and see everything! They have cabins that are still there, as well as a trench that literally took my breath away it was so surreal!!!
âąOf course, I have to say Washington D.C., because while this is the biggest tourist trap, so much isnât tourist stuff. The International Spy Museum was so much fun!! I looked it up, and their temporarily closed until Jan 14th 2021, but Iâm hoping they open back up soon!! Another thing in D.C. is Fords theatre, which I literally just happened to walk by and recognize the sign! Also in D.C., if you happen to have a favorite historical figure, there are tons of statues. Nathan Hale, John Paul Jones-almost at everywhere is a statue!! You can put the statues/memorials in your phone GPS too, and you can walk right to it, itâs absolutely great!!
âąI mentioned this in my posts, but Fraunces Tavern, in NY, is like MY FAVORITE PLACE EVER!! If youâre a student, itâs $6 to get in, and it has so much stuff. Nathan Hale, Benjamin Tallmadge, George Washington, etc. the rooms I could stand in for hours đ€© museums are my favorite! but if you are looking for things related to TURN, this is it!!!
âąThe American Revolution Museum at Yorktown, VA, is also a great American Revolution museum !!! They have the Yorktown encampment set up, and itâs all interactive which is so freaking cool! The museum itself holds so much from the 1700âs, and it was such an amazing experience!!
âąOf course, Independence Hall, in Philadelphia, PA, was one of the most fun ones!! The staircase where John Adams and Thomas Jefferson duke it out, you can pretty much stand in there exact spot where James Madisonâs seat was, and ofc the museums !!! There are a few amazing ones over there! The Liberty bell is another fantastic monument, because the entrance to the actual bell is a relic itself!
I have some places myself that Iâve never been, but are on my list ;)
âąNathan Haleâs Homestead in Coventry, CT!
âąIn Setauket, NY, there is a tour called the Tri-Spy Tours, which is basically the premise of TURN. (Iâve wanted to do this for so long, but they recently are doing tours via appointment due to C*VID!)
âąand good âol Boston, MA, a place that Iâve never been but Iâve been dying to go!! Sons of Liberty home town đ€©
Regarding the civil war!
Unfortunately myself, Iâve been to little to no areas that have pertained to the Civil War, just basically due to my location đbut, I have a few that have been on my list forever to visit, and they look so interesting!!
âąGettysburg !!! You mentioned this one, a whole 11/10 !!! A place that holds so much history, especially regarding the Civil War!!
âąHarpers Ferry, VA. (John Brownâs Raid!)
âąUlysses S Grant House in Burlington, NJ. There are several houses where Grant stayed, but he and his family stayed in this particular one in the last months of the Civil War!
âąAppomattox Court House in VA (Leeâs famous surrender fo Grant!)
âąFort Sumter in Charleston, SC
I hope some of these pique your interest!!! And anywhere you decide, Iâd love to see pictures!!!!! â€ïž
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I was wondering if you had any fiveya headcanons or aus that you really like. Also luv ya
Thanks for the ask, Anon! Iâm always happy to talk about my fave murder couple, so here we go:
Five, pre-apocalypse, has a sweet tooth (this has a bit of canon support, the Twinkie story, he accepts a candy even after the bad Twinkie, frequenting donut shops and bakeries); Vanya prefers sour candies and itâs only sort of because the faces she makes always have Klaus, Five and Ben giggling behind their hands like gossipy housewives.
To Fiveâs great displeasure, Vanya loves musicals. She, Mom, and Diego know every word to The Sound of Music. She and Allison bond briefly over Wicked. When theyâre older, Five develops a taste for dark musicals (specifically, Phantom and Sweeney Todd).
Winter evenings are best spent in the manorâs expansive libraries, curled up before a fire. Vanya likes to read novels Ben mentioned, if only so she can talk about them with him; she prefers historical and fantasy fiction over Benâs usual sci-fi novels and comic books, or sheet music when she needs to be practicing. Five reads textbooks and works on his algorithms. He feels better when he can throw a frustrating problem into the fire.
(there are already whole posts dedicated to this but idc) Five 1000% knew the meaning of the name Delores when he chose it, and he picked Delores because her hair was similar to Vanyaâs. (changemymind.jpeg)
Five shows affection like a cat. He can spend two hours sitting a few inches from Vanya and it feels just as intimate as holding her hand and stroking her hair. Vanya prefers the actual affection to sharing space. She reassures herself through touch, a brush of her fingers along his sleeve or the soft press of his lips to her forehead when he knows sheâs upset.
Post-apocalypse-prevention, the other Academy kids had a betting pool in place for literal years. Klaus was the first one to bring up the possibility of their relationship, when he and Luther talk about Fiveâs new âGrow up, I kill ppl to save pplâ attitude. Klaus says it wouldâve been a lot easier to just kill Vanya, but he risked an unknown jump to save her. Allison spends the next month stalking them to the point that Five threatens to jump her to the Neolithic Age and leave her there. Itâs Luther that wins the betting pool, with his guess being that they got together roughly nine months after the averted world-ending. (It was seven months, two weeks, and three days.) However, the other Academy members donât find out about their relationship for nearly three years. (Five didnât want Luther to win, but Vanyaâs a poor liar.)
Vanya is the one who proposes to Five, long after theyâve affirmed their feelings and merged their lives. They have a spacious apartment together, an extra room for Fiveâs office as well as a guest bedroom for the revolving-door they called Klaus. She planned out a lovely dinner for the weekend on the roof of their building, near the garden, but he wakes up later than her one morning, padding out onto the terrace and leaning against the rail with his morning coffee while she and her violin ran through their morning warm up. He watches her, expression so soft no one but Vanya would believe it, as she puts everything back in the case covering the entirety of their little patio table, and her hands are shaking from the affection in his eyes, so she shoves them in the pockets of her robe and thereâs the ring box, a tiny red velvet box with a simple silver band, and when she drops to one knee his elbow knocks his coffee mug right off the rail and they donât even see if it smashed against something or someone, because she canât even ask before he is saying yes, yes, Vanya, i will always say yes - an infinite string of acceptance pouring from his lips before theyâre crashed against hers.
They get a house and a yard and a dog; Five tries to grow things in the little garden patch by the shed. Nothing but the white-blooming spirea bushes nestled against the front of the house survive his attempts. Klaus stays with them for a summer and grows tomatoes bigger than the dogâs head.
As for AUâs, Iâve got an extensive list of stories Iâm interested in reading or writing (...one day....), but hereâs some highlights:
Nick and Norahâs Infinite Playlist AU: This is my favorite romcom and I will write it. Already in the works, even if I changed some things up. Five is the heir to a famous recording studio, poised to take over if only he can resist murdering his father before he retires. Classic workaholic, would have gone full hikikomori at the age of 22 if it werenât for work, only friends include his twin brother, sister-in-law, and the best PA in the world, Delores. Coincidentally, all Threeâąïž of his friends think he needs to get out more. Vanyaâs just broken off a two-year engagement and lost her best friend in the same day, due to the same incident of infidelity she stumbled upon, and her brother Klaus needs her to quit moping and cover his drummerâs spot for this hella important show tonight. They end up at the same club. Where Vanyaâs ex happens to be. And someone gave Luther some pills that make him feel awesome. Chaos ensues.
I really want a Hogwarts AU. Iâm HP trash. Absolutely LOVE the art Iâve seen for the kids in their houses (everyoneâs seen @just-themys-fanartsâs take right? Iâll reblog it again after this in case yâall live under a rock)
On the subject of crossover AUâs, I can think of so many wild AUs I wanna see these kids in (as competing Kingsman recruits, talking about living together in hellishly mundane eternity a la Nadja and Lazlo in What We Do in the Shadows, meeting at Camp Halfblood (though Iâd have to brush up on my PJO to write or read this one, it would be a lot of fun);
Look call me basic but Fiveâs love of coffee is begging for a coffee shop AU. Vanya and Klaus open up a coffee shop with an expansive bakery and Five falls in love with the espresso, the apple cinnamon danishes, and the beautiful, constantly-stressed-and-on-the-verge-of-murdering-her-entire-mess-of-a-staff owner.
Assassin AU. Fiveâs already there, canonically, and I think Iâve seen some of these on AO3. Look forward to reading them one day.
Iâm trash for soulmate AUs, if you didnât notice, all varieties, not just the soulmark AU Iâm writing. First words, canât see color until you meet your soulmate, dream sharing, the marks on your skin appears on theirs, etc.
I also love a good canon-divergence; Five doesnât time travel, he takes Vanya with him, he comes back after a couple of days, the possibilities are endless.
wow I am so sorry this is so long. I appear to be long-winded no matter what Iâm doing. Thanks so much for the ask! It was fun to share some hcs.
#fiveya#five hargeeves#vanya hargreeves#headcanons#the umbrella academy#five x vanya#five/vanya#fiveya hc#tullyanswers
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The Finest Hotels In Bensalem For Your Rest and Relaxation
The most fun and thrilling part of traveling to Bensalem is having a loaded itinerary so you can make the most of your vacation. But after a long day of visiting tourist spots, eating at the best restaurants, walking along the streets to take in the breathtaking sights all over town, you deserve to unwind in a cozy, comfortable room. We've put together the 5 best hotels in Bensalem that offer high quality accommodations and a friendly environment that's sure to make your trip an awesome experience!
1740 House
1740 House takes your stay at Bensalem to a whole new level! Having served the city for several years, this is a Upscale B&B featuring charming rooms with balconies & river views, plus a cozy tavern & terrace, which brings you a taste of the wonderful life in Bensalem Just give us a call at (215) 297-5661 and check in at 3690 River Rd, New Hope, PA 18938 for the best time at Bensalem! https://goo.gl/maps/zExKHpeYNFej4WVw5
Roosevelt Inn
The perfect hotel for history and traveling buffs alike, Roosevelt Inn shows off the rich history and interesting traditions of Bensalem. It's a this humble low-rise hotel is 15 minutes' walk from shopping and dining at Roosevelt Mall and 12 miles from downtown Philadelphia. Nestled in the heart of the city at 7600 Roosevelt Blvd #1, Philadelphia, PA 19152, United States. Call in at (215) 338-7600 and schedule your stay for an unique experience and quality lodging. https://goo.gl/maps/weBeBrG6e5diarue9
Hargrave House
Tourists and locals both agree that Hargrave House is one of the best places to stop over in Bensalem. This historic B&B is a 5-minute walk from the Doylestown SEPTA station, the Mercer Museum and the James A. Michener Art Museum, bringing you a homelike environment and ultimate relaxation. Drop a call at (215) 348-3334 and check in at 50 S Main St, Doylestown, PA 18901, United States. Get some much-deserved R&R at Hargrave House so you can get pumped up for the rest of your time in Bensalem! https://goo.gl/maps/QdwHxHp3yGm3dsP69
Pineapple Inn Bed & Breakfast
With a wide selection of spacious rooms and suites to match your style, Pineapple Inn Bed & Breakfast is best for all of your traveling needs. This restored 18th-century farmhouse with upscale B&B accommodations is 4.5 miles from the Bucks County gateway of New Hope PA, which offers a playhouse, museums and Revolutionary War landmarks. Found at in 1324 River Rd, New Hope, PA 18938, United States, it's close to some of Bensalem's most well-known attractions and must-try restaurants. Book a room at (215) 862-1790 for guaranteed comfort and convenience on your vacation to Bensalem. https://goo.gl/maps/rBN21ASSVqEU26vJ6
Bridgetown Mill House Restaurant & Inn
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Into the Hush: Chapter One
Into the Hush Masterlist
Pairings: Bucky Barnes/Reader, Wanda Maximoff/Reader undertones
Summary: It's only ever been you and the rugged wilderness; both unkempt and undomesticated. Until it isn't anymore.
(1870s Cowboy AU. A/B/O AU. Gothic/horror.)
Warnings: Violence, gore, dark themes, A/B/O dynamics, smut in later chapters.
If you are under 18, you should not be reading this!
A/N: howdy yaâll lol donât know how i came up with this one but itâs an A/B/O cowboy historical gothic au. itâs gonna get dark! also gonna be a real nasty slow burn lmaooo so mind the warnings, if you donât do well with gore or violence, perhaps this isnât the fic for you. also if you donât like the Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, this isnât for you, either, though i will be taking some liberties with this and trying to give my own take on it because there are aspects of it that i donât like lol. im not quite sure how long this series will be, but i have plans for it. that being said, saddle up pardner lol and pls let me know what you thought of this first chapter!!!!
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 Wyoming, 1872
The early morning air is crisp with new spring, cold and a little damp, dew glistening on the grass and glinting gold in the morning sun. Your breath still comes out in soft puffs that curl into the air as you step out onto your creaking, front porch. It overlooks the barren dirt road that leads up to your humble and charming farmhouse; weathered by time and storm and pleasantly cluttered with life and home at every turn. Off to the left is the freshly tilled ground that has been planted in; herbs and fruits and vegetables that will take over in the warm summer months. Trees have shaken the snow from them and have turned green and budding and new again.Â
You wrap your shawl tighter around your shoulders, trying to gather more warmth from the worn cream, crochet wrap. You know once the sun rises higher into the afternoon, youâll grow too warm for it, but now itâs needed. The wind curls around you, rustles your hair, lifts your skirts. It carries the promise of warmth, the reminder of winter.Â
All is peaceful in the morning, before the day has broken over the hills. All that sings is the birds, lovely and bright and flitting from tree to tree.Â
You lift your skirts, head over to the back porch, which wraps the entire way along your house. In the back is the barn, the pasture for the animals to graze when itâs warm. The creek towards the back, bubbling softly over the stones, crystal clear and cool. Itâs perfect on a summer afternoon, but now would be too cold for you.
And you begin your day, head over to the shed where you ready the feed for the chickens, grab a basket for eggs. You enter the coop, greet the clucking hens with a coo, spreading food for them which they hurry to eagerly. As they eat, you gently reach for warm eggs in their nest, gather it into your basket and rush on to your other chores.Â
Milk the cows, get them fresh water, fresh hay and in the afternoon, youâll let them out in the pasture to warm in the sun.Â
A few of them are round with calves, ready to give birth any day now.Â
You tend to the single horse, only one now after your fatherâs male passed away last spring. The one left is yours; a dappled, brown mare youâve affectionately called Clover.Â
Youâll take her to town later, to sell extra eggs and milk, all the goods you can in exchange for bread or spices or money for the tax collector. By the time youâre finished with your chores, which is taking longer and longer as the farm extends and your father grows older and older, itâs around noon, the sun beginning to warm into pleasant rays of topaz and canary.Â
Your father sits on the porch, in his old rocking chair, smoking a pipe. His knee has been bad since this past fall, has a harder and harder time helping you. Not that you mind; this farm has practically become yours, but he hates leaving you to it all alone.Â
Heâs been dying to set you up with an Alpha, find a good man to marry and help you with the farm. But none of the men from town pique your interest, few good Alphas in the small town of Longbrook, Wyoming. The train, not far from town, brings newcomers once and awhile, but itâs mostly quiet, tucked away in a valley, a river snaking its way through and out into the plains of wildflowers and fields.Â
You know Longbrookâs secrets, the quiet, beautiful places that you run to when you have the time. Spend your evenings lazing in columbine and aster flowers, beneath old, crooked trees near quiet, turquoise lakes. Or on a bluff, looking high above the world, cool wind in your face and the fluttering of birds nearer to you than planted on the grounds below.Â
You know where not to stray to, when the wilderness grows too rough and dangerous. Unrestrained in both itâs beauty and viciousness.Â
So independent that you canât quite imagine your life beside another, especially not beside an Alpha, with their combative, controlling natures. You canât imagine a husband that wouldnât mind you taking off, disappearing into the wilderness and returning when you fancy; like some feral cat, your father always remarks gruffly.Â
He isnât a fan of your disappearing acts, either. Alpha that he is, heâs kept careful and close watch on you since you discovered you were Omega, as irritating as it is. Controlling, but only because he means well. You manage to sate him by coming home before nightfall, when dusk is lavender and rose and the moon is only beginning to take the sunâs place. Besides, thereâs not much he can do with his bad knee, canât keep you cooped up the way he used to.Â
Ever since your mother had passed, you had to step up around the farm, grow up a little too quick. Responsible and resourceful, you work hard for you and your father. But your father has grown rather overprotective, wary with the Alphas he let come around; well respected in the town, no one has dared disobey him. A few had tried; Brock Rumlow, the tax collector, was the most notable of them. Pushy and irksome, heâd tried to convince you to disobey, sway you to sneak out with him or let him come by but you always turned your nose up at him.
You have no interest in someone so aggressive, so controlling.
You arenât one to roll over or lower your eyes submissively; many Omegas arenât, in your opinion, but itâs expected. Thereâs no time for that, though, not for you. No use or desire for it. You have a farm to take care of, to keep running smoothly. You have a life to live, adventures to have, open sky to chase.Â
And thereâs certainly nothing and no one thatâs going to stop you.Â
âBe careful goinâ into town,â Your father speaks up finally, smoke curling from his lips, voice rough and fogged, âHeard there was a few newcomers.âÂ
Your father is always wary of newcomers, prefers to assess them himself, rather than hear from others.Â
âYes, pa.â You respond, not particularly interested in them, nor sticking around for one of your fatherâs infamous lectures. You hurry on, grabbing all that you need, loading up Clover for the journey. You saddle her up, throw yourself over her with practiced ease, hitching your skirts up slightly and out of the way.Â
âBe home by nightfall!â Your father hollers after you, but youâre already easing Clover onto the dirt path.Â
âOf course!â You call back, just as you urge her into a faster pace, your voice carries on the wind, distant and as light as the new blossoms.Â
You push her into a gallop; not because thereâs a rush, but because itâs fun. Because the wind is in your hair and the sun is warm on your shoulders and Clover thunders across the ground, kicking up dirt and making a mess.Â
You let a grin hitch onto the corner of your lips, lean forward, ease into the speed. The town is only a twenty minute ride, fifteen if you pushed, but you want to enjoy the ride. The landscape blurs past you in shades of olive and juniper, butter cream, robinâs egg blue. The pop of lily white, a sudden burst of dainty pink or blushing red. But itâs just you and the trees and the pounding of your heart along the beat of hooves against the solid ground.Â
Free and open and bursting, you race away from home eagerly and into the wilderness.
You end up slowing Clover halfway through your journey, appreciating the spring air, new and linen clean, shadowed patterns falling over you beneath the trees. The wind tickles your cheeks, the distant sound of the river can be heard when you listen carefully, a soft rush of water. Itâs soothing, like the creek by your house, the sloshing lake you visit often. You let it carry you into town, peaceful, lazily letting Clover step onto more worn dirt roads.Â
Town people shout to you in greeting, wave as you pass by; youâre a familiar face to them. You give them smiles, holler back to some as you make your way to the grocers to sell your eggs and milk. You swing down from Clover, hopping easily onto your feet.Â
You end up walking out of the grocerâs with some extra money and a few cans of preserved vegetables and fruits. You buy some bread at the bakery, a pastry to split with Wanda, who youâre hoping can join you for the afternoon.Â
You catch sight of her outside the dress shop, peering at the finely made clothes through the window. She wears her own dress of dove grey, similar in fashion to yours rather than the ones she gazes at; your dresses are looser, easier to move and work and play in, aprons tied around your waists instead of the ruffles and frill of the dresses in the window. Her long curls cascade over her shoulders, near copper under the afternoon sun.
You call to her, watch as her features light up upon seeing you, before she picks her skirts up and bounds over to you. Her scent hits you; sweetly Omega, soft clary sage, warm rose, and damp patchouli. Mysterious and floral, sheâs always been a little offbeat with her wide, wondering eyes that linger in darkness.Â
Some of the elders call her a witch, little demon child, with her Eastern European ties and mischievous curl of her lips. But to you she is only Wanda, your dearest.Â
Her fingers, nimble and quick, find yours, lock and lace together. âHello, darling.â She says, pressing her lips to your cheek in greeting, her voice melodic and smooth; velvet dark and sweet twilight.Â
You let your cheek brush hers, lean into the touch eagerly, soft, rosy and warm skin against yours. âHello, Wanda.âÂ
She pulls back with a flutter of her lashes, wide eyes finding yours. Thereâs a familiar glimmer in them, which makes your heart leap amorously, excited and playful. âAre we going to sneak off to the meadow today, still?â She asks, dropping her voice to a hush and stepping nearer. Your hands tighten over hers as you draw closer, duck your head so you catch another breeze of her scent in her hair, the nape of her neck.
âYes,â You reply, an eager smile pulling at your lips, âI bought us a pastry to split and a book to read.âÂ
âThen what are we waiting for?â She nearly purrs, bouncing lightly on her toes in excitement. Youâre about to pull her along, drag her towards Clover when someone clears their throat behind you.
You both turn, fingers still interwoven, pressed to one anotherâs sides. Her warmth is welcome and comforting, especially as you both find Rumlow gazing back at the pair of you with depthless, cold eyes. His face, so marred and twisted, gleams pink and shiny with scarred and new skin under the afternoon light. The rays of white gold sunlight do nothing to lighten his features, nor the darkness of his gaze.
It pierces deep into you, as if he wants to pry and prod and pick you cleanly apart. Itâs the gaze of a conqueror, you think, the gaze of someone who wants something that can never be theirs. Itâs a disturbing hunger, the kind that sends a deep chill down your spine.Â
Wanda squeezes your hand in comfort. So attuned to you, she perhaps can tell by body language or the dip in your scent that youâre frightened in some way, that Rumlow has caused you distress and he has yet to even open his jagged, scarred mouth.Â
âLovely afternoon for you ladies.â He says very coldly, as if he is not in fact concerned with the weather nor you both.
âYes, it is.â Wanda replies for you, a dark, protective little gleam in her eyes. You can smell the shift of scent with her light aggression, the flare of sage that burns and tickles your nose. It sharpens and spices, makes you blink with it.Â
âYouâre both looking mighty fine, rich with spring. Omegas always were sweetest in spring. Isnât that right?â He muses and it chills you to the bone, makes you press closer to Wandaâs side, as if you could fold into the safety of her body.Â
There is old folklore; spring being associated with Omegas. Itâs all about fertility and the new life that blossoms in spring, old wivesâ tales of Omegas getting their strongest heats in the spring after long, dormant winters. Perhaps there is some truth to it, biologically, because winter can get so harsh and so sparse with food if one isnât careful. Bearing children in winter would never be easy, but itâs something you donât wish to linger on, particularly not with the way Rumlow is eyeing you.
Like ripening fruit to be picked. A flower blooming, awaiting the moment to pluck it from the earth.
Wanda grows uncomfortable now, too, you can feel it in the bunching of her slim shoulders. But she steps in front of you purposefully, a show of challenge to Rumlow, one of protection for you.Â
âIsnât that right, ladies?â Rumlow urges, taking a step forward and Wanda sharply takes a step back, forcing you back as well. You cling to the back of her skirts with tense, seeking fingers.Â
âI sure hope youâre not botherinâ these girls.â Another voice speaks up, authoritative and strong and sure. The kind of voice that gives commands, ones you think many eagerly would follow. Not unkind, but unwavering. When you both turn to the source, itâs a blond man, broad shouldered and wide and tall. Heâs dressed simply, the top few buttons of his shirt popped open to reveal a muscled chest. Pretty, light blue eyes. He has an honest face, a strong jaw, trustworthy and noble.Â
His scent is distinctly Alpha, strong and commanding; cedar wood and leather. The soft notes of something gentler like cotton and the way your linen smells on a summer day fluttering in the breeze to be dry. Itâs soothing, a deep comfort compared to the off-beat, metal tang and sour blood smell of Rumlowâs scent.Â
Which, has become bitter and salty with his anger and aggression for this newcomer. Â
âI wasnât bothering them. Was I bothering you Omegas?â He asks sharply, prickling with agitation and it makes you grip Wandaâs skirts a little tighter. âAnd who are you, anyways?â He then almost growls, âNewcomer isnât gonna tell me what to do.âÂ
You can tell Rumlowâs itching to pick a fight by the tightening of his shoulders and baring of his teeth. The air becomes charged with scent, territorial and angry and pungent. Wandaâs is still spiced and agitated, too, with the threat of Rumlow. Your own is dipped into distress, irritation, and the newcomerâs becomes stronger, cedar wood sharp. Rooted in place, he cocks his head slightly, challenging.Â
âWhy donât you move along.â The newcomer says, and heâs not asking, heâs telling. Itâs bold of him, with the way Rumlowâs face; twisted and angry, settles on him. No one challenges Rumlow in this town. He holds too much power, is too strong; both physically and socially. Even protected by the law by being a tax collector for Alexander Pierce.Â
Another man steps up behind the blond, eyeing Rumlow with particularly cold and dark eyes; midnight blue, the evening sky bleary with stars, depthless and all consuming. His hair is longer, brushing the tops of his shoulders, half pulled back from his strong face--
When your eyes settle upon his features for the first time, it feels as if youâve been struck; a blow of lightning, the sudden shock of cold water, the gasp you take when you resurface. Itâs damning, you think, as if youâve seen him in your dreams or in hazy, unknown past lives. As if youâve known him your whole life, somehow, as if you recognize him now and wonder how you ever couldâve forgotten him.
He looks like the tragic heroes you read about; the ones that rise only to fall, crumble down after being so noble and wide-eyed. He is breathtaking and standing tall and strong against Rumlowâs piercing gaze. Thereâs a warning in his eyes, a half-dare, begging Rumlow to try something and see what happens now. Where the blond is golden-hearted and bright-eyed, he seems darker, more eclipsed.Â
And surprisingly, it works, Rumlow eyes the pair of them, weighs his options, and then promptly steps down. He mutters something about leaving, about how this isnât the end. But you canât help the quirk of a smile, the hint of cruel amusement you get from watching him ease away. Slink off back into the hustle of town.
Wanda smiles wider than you, sharper, a little more mischievous, âI donât think Iâve ever seen Rumlow cower like that.â She says and turns towards the newcomers with a radiance that is hard to match.Â
And the blond smiles, easy and gentle, âGlad we could help.â And then with deep courtesy, âSteve Rogers, by the way.âÂ
âWanda Maximoff.â She pulls you back up to her side once more, offers your name to them, too.
Steve claps the other man on the shoulder, an ease is shared between them that is not unsimilar to you and Wanda. Steve adds, âJames Buchanan. But we just call him Bucky.â
And Bucky nods, his eyes finally sliding over to you; his scent hits you at nearly the same time. Offbeat and pine, the sharp, cold smell of metal. Thereâs evergreen and winter, maybe the soft spice of juniper, the low cut of musk. It makes your eyes flutter, makes your head go soft and bleary with it.Â
âPleasure to meet you both.â Wanda says and her voice refocuses you, her fingers skimming yours to ground you. You flit your eyes away, but can feel Buckyâs suddenly sink over you the way the red sun will drop below the hills.Â
You become keenly aware of your bare neck, hair pulled from your face and shoulders to reveal it to him. The cut of your dress suddenly seems both revealing and not revealing enough. Like it could constrict you, or maybe youâre showing too much skin. Â
âWhat brings you here?â You ask, perhaps a little cooly, eyes seeking out the horizon rather than them. Anything but him.Â
âPassing through. Looking for work for a few weeks.â Steve answers politely and his eyes glitter like the creek in the high summer. Heâs pretty, you think, long lashes framing those eyes.Â
âOh!â Wanda exclaims and she loops her arm through yours solidly, her body warm and soft beside you, âYouâre in luck! She needs help running her farm!âÂ
You almost choke. Throw Wanda a glare but she only meets you with that impish, precious smile you canât stay mad at for very long.Â
âI donât--â You try to protest.Â
âShe does!â Wanda interjects, âHer father injured his knee awhile ago, been looking for someone to help out.âÂ
âWell, if thatâs the case, then perhaps Buck and I will have to stop by.â Steve says easily, a half amused grin tugging at his lips as he gazes between you and Wanda. Almost as if heâs endeared by your antics. You bristle.Â
âMy father doesnât take to newcomers very well.â You warn, as if thatâll scare these two Alphas away so easily after their little stunt with Rumlow. You worry that few things will scare these two off.Â
Regardless you donât need them on your farm, donât need them trying to help or care for you or order you around. Itâs always been you, and no one will change that. Youâre not about to let them treat you like some soft, little creature who should be inside baking them pies and fetching them water.Â
But you can feel Buckyâs eyes on your face still, as if heâs trying to burrow in there, make a home upon which he gazes.Â
You grow even tenser, teeth grinding. No home to find inside you; just the unruliness of nature, the ever-changing seasons, or unforgivable storms. The river that churns too fast, dives between the mountains and the forests, the sly, sharp-toothed fox.Â
You turn your nose up, âBesides,â You say, insolent and dry, âI donât really need any help.âÂ
ââCourse.â Steve agrees and you arenât sure if itâs to placate you or if heâs genuine, âBut if youâre looking for an extra pair of hands to order around, weâre your guys.â
âIâll keep it in mind.â You say, though decidedly wonât.Â
Daring yourself, you finally force your eyes to Bucky once more. His face is stern and closed off, reserved. He hasnât spoken once, and stupidly, horribly, you long to hear his voice. You wonder what it sounds like, if itâs rough or smooth or everything at once. Does he speak loudly or softly? Will you have to lean in to hear him or will you step back at the crack of it?Â
And yet, he hasnât needed it once yet. His presence, formidable and strong and raw, is enough.
You blink, look away just as he glances back at you. This strange game of cat and mouse with eyes is making your fingers twitch and tighten in your skirts.Â
âWe should be off,â You tell Wanda, wishing to flee, to feel the wind on your face and Wandaâs body beside yours and the afternoon sun bursting on your skin.Â
Steve wishes the pair of you well, gentlemanly and sweet. Tips his hat with a boyish sort of grin that perhaps would leave otherâs swooning.Â
And Bucky, gruffly, and with a sort of gentleness you arenât expecting to find, says to you, âIt was nice meeting you both.âÂ
Something warm settles into your chest, sliding down like molasses, dripping into your stomach and core, spreading throughout you like it owns you; settles deep into you like it wonât leave, real deep into the marrow of your bones. And you inhale, breathe as if this is your first real breath in the whole of your life.
You find yourself replying, almost as softly, âIt was nice to meet you, too.âÂ
His lips twitch upwards in the barest hint of a smile, as if itâs the first time heâs smiled in a long, long time and he needs you to show him how again.
So you do, you give him your own smile that isnât much bigger, but itâs much easier and sweet as honey, clever as a fox. Almost like you want him to chase you, follow that curve of your lips.Â
Wanda giggles, before pulling you away and back towards Clover to begin your adventure for the day, but you think you can feel the dark of his eyes on the back of your neck still, the line of your shoulders. It lingers, until you ride off into the heather hills with her and disappear on the gauzy horizon.Â
---
Wanda and you roll in the wild grass on the sloping hills. Laughing and chasing and playing like youâre girls again, half-savage and free and untempered. You tumble and shriek and hitch up your skirts, loosen your dresses and unbutton collars. The sun is a gold glow, warming the earth and your skin, shimmering dreamlike on the new green buds, the wheat yellow of the tall grass. You tip your face up to the sky eagerly, just as you let yourself flop back into the field, back hitting the ground that catches your fall, cradles you. Clouds pass overhead in cotton shapes, free and darling, and youâre still breathing a little hard from romping around with Wanda, feeling your heartbeat inside the cage of your chest. You feel flushed with life; ferocious and curious and excited.Â
Wanda drops down by your feet, before slowly, languidly crawling atop you. She straddles your waist, her skirts spilling out over the two of you. You sit up on your elbows, jostle and try to dislodge her a little with another round with warm laughter, but she holds fast, nails digging into your shoulders.Â
âI saw the way you were looking at Bucky.â She says and thereâs too much mischief in her eyes, a clever glint that the sun turns amber and honey hazel.Â
You roll your eyes at her, but even the mention of his name on her lips makes something inside of you stir. But you indulge her, leveling her with an unamused gaze, âAnd how was that, Wanda?âÂ
She leans over you, her fiery hair brushing your cheek, your shoulders. She fits herself closer, twines her arms around you all close and snug.Â
 âLike you wanted to bare your throat to him right then and there.â She teases playfully, voice dipping into a warm, rumbling purr. Her nose drops, nuzzles lightly at the sensitive scent gland at your neck. It makes you squirm, your fingers tightening in the skirts of her dress.Â
You allow her so close, allow lips and teeth and nose into the dips of your body because sheâs so familiar to you. A piece of your heart is firmly in her small, warm hands. It blurs the thin, unsteady line between you two, though. Scenting at the neck is usually romantic in some way; often times sexual. Comforting, when it needs to be, but youâve laid so many times with Wanda, gotten so close and tangled together that you often find your nose at her throat, the nape of her neck, tucking your face into the crooks of her body and she to you. You know her like a lover, you think, sink into her body beneath the sun and the moon and the open skies that spread out before you both. As if the whole world opens for you two.Â
âYour scent got sweeter; milky lavender and dark jasmine.â Her lashes tickle your collar bones, her mouth warm and open against the skin there. It makes you flush deeply, sink into the earth beneath you, âWant him to bite you?â She jibes, flashes pearly teeth, her canine gleaming in that white sun.Â
âWanda!â You yelp, shoving at her and she throws her head back and laughs, âNo!â And you begin to wrestle with her once more, pushing her off and sending you both tumbling down another hill. You shriek and peel with laughter, pulling and grabbing at each other until you roll apart.
She gets on her hands and knees, feigns a growl from an Alpha in her throat, the kind that rumbles out from deep within them, but the sound is a little muted, and too light in her mouth. She suddenly pounces for you again, playful and light, sending you belly up and onto your back, though. âYou want him to tackle you like this,â She torments, grabbing at your wrists as you try and squirm and fight with her.Â
With a grunt and all your strength, you roll her right onto her back now, hook your legs over her hips like she did.Â
âYou want to simper and cry under him,â She says and this time her voice gets soft and breathy and pouty and she is good at that. Her back arches beneath you and you push at her more, tighten your hands around her wrists, shove them down to the ground, feel her heaving chest and trace the curve of her smiling lips and rose touched cheeks with eager eyes.Â
âI donât!â You laugh, playfully bare your teeth at her and try and growl back the way she had. Itâs better than hers, a little more bite to it, but itâs still too light and soft. She laughs with you at your attempt now, laughs and growls and yells with you until youâre both breathless because there is nothing and no one around to hear you but each other.
You howl and chase and fall into each other with giggles and wildflowers in your hair, get lost in her and the way the sun begins to fall from the sky and cast everything in a rosewood haze, slow and burning and beautiful.Â
She lays her cheek on your back when you ride Clover back to her home, and she kisses you goodnight, lips at the corner of yours. Promises to see you tomorrow.Â
And then you ride home, race fast and hard before the sun is swallowed by the moon, before the stars blink into existence and your father scolds you to all hell and back.Â
------------------
Home seems eerie with the darkness that creeps around its edges, night drawing out all the creeks and aches and splinters in the old house. All the memories pushed towards the back of your mind rush forward like skittering spiders. The last sliver of light sits on the horizon, fighting, railing against that inky sky as you get home.Â
And when you rush through the front door, shouting, âPa, Iâm home before the sunâs set!â You arenât expecting to nearly run right into the broad chest of Steve Rogers.
You blink hard and he steadies you with a hushed, âEasy,â And his big hands on your shoulders.Â
You look up at him in disbelief, brows furrowing, quickly lurching away from him, only to realize Bucky stands to his right.Â
âWhat--â You start to snap, and this time your teeth are baring with aggression and irritation, gone is the lightness and playfulness you had with Wanda. Your eyes flash with the last cut of light that slashes through the old windows of your house.Â
âThereâs my feral cat of a daughter, fellas.â Your father says and your head whirls to him.Â
He begins to introduce the three of you again, but you cut him off, âI met âem today, Pa.âÂ
âOh, good.â He says dryly, unappreciative of your tone. You force back a wince, know youâll get scolded for that one. âTheyâll be helping you out on the farm for a few weeks.âÂ
You whip back to face Steve and Bucky, narrow your eyes at them, âThought I told you both I donât need any help?â You snap, unruly, wildflowers still caught in your hair that now slips free of what itâd been pulled back in earlier. Youâre sure you look half-wild.Â
Steve holds up his hands as if he means no harm, palms up to you and you see theyâre rough and calloused and scarred. Used, working hands. Hands that have seen a lot. You glance at Bucky, notice that one of his hands is gloved, the other free. You try not to stare, flit your eyes back to Steve.
âIn our defense, we didnât know this was your farm. We were sent this way after inquiring in town for work.â Steve says calmly, and then puts his hand over his heart, âHonest.âÂ
You scoff lightly, turn back to your father, âI donât need them, Pa.â
âNo,â He agrees and pride swells in you, a small bubble of it for a heartbeat, âBut theyâd be a great help to you.âÂ
Thereâs no amount of arguing or protesting thatâs gonna change your fatherâs mind once itâs been set. He seems settled on this, content and confident. You try not to pout, try not to stamp your feet or snap or glare them right out of your house.Â
Final discussions are had; pay and what times theyâll arrive and leave. Your father, thankfully, warns them to listen to you, and if he finds differently, theyâll be kicked to the dirt as quickly as theyâd gotten the job.
And then he warns them, quite frankly, to mind themselves around you and you can feel your cheeks deepen into crimson. Bucky and Steve dip their heads, though, say obedient and firm, yes sirâs, as if they expected it.Â
Your father finishes with, âAlright, then. You two start tomorrow.â And then he looks to you, âWalk them out, will you?âÂ
You huff, but do so, walk them to the porch where the crickets and frogs have begun to chirp and croak and sing. The night crawls onward, the wind rattles this old house. A chill overcomes you, a little shudder. You think you can hear the far-off sound of baying coyotes, erie and high pitched in their frenzied yelping.Â
âSuppose Iâll see you both bright and early in the morning, then.â You say, crossing your arms over your chest.Â
âSuppose so.â Steve says, lowers his eyes a little, âI did mean it, we didnât know this was your farm.âÂ
You eye him, âNothinâ I can do about it now, is there?â You counter, unwilling to give an inch, no matter how sweetly he looks at you with those darling, blue eyes. Youâre sure that boyish charm works everywhere else, but you refuse to let it here.
He has the good sense to dip his head submissively, nodding slightly, âWeâll get out of your hair for the night then, let you rest. Goodnight, maâam.â He says respectfully, before easing down off the old wood that protests beneath his heavy steps.Â
And for a heartbeat, it is only you and Bucky and the rattling tree branches and the croaking night. A moment frozen, as if youâd captured it in a bottle like a letter that youâll throw into the sea. Just this sliver of time that makes the whole world stand still, as if itâs been waiting or fearing for your coming together.Â
You have nothing to say, but he inclines his head, holds your eyes like heâs holding the world in his arms, and murmurs all low and rumbling, âGoodnight, miss.âÂ
Then turns his back on you, and hustles over to Steve, to their tethered horses.Â
And this time itâs you that watches him, eyes glued to his muscled back, the nape of his neck, as he eventually is swarmed by the darkened, reaching horizon.
---
You fall into bed, feeling strange and wary, a little weary, perhaps a little hopeful, too. For what, you donât know. You can feel the wind changing, coming with new spring. But thereâs something else, something heavier; the pressure is building, as if thereâs a storm brewing. The kind of spring storm that bring destruction and clamor and the kind of rain that threatens to sweep you away in their flood and ferocity.Â
Your bed creeks, the shadows are tall and reaching in your room. The moon spills in, but instead of painting you with wonder or lovely, pearl light, it only makes the shadows that much darker. The night brings the cold, makes you pull tight and inwards. You curl up beneath your quilt, try and ward off all that presses in.Â
Eventually, you sleep.Â
And you dream.Â
You dream in visions of phantom grey and oil slick black, syrupy red, and flesh pink. You step lightly in a graveyard, the earth freshly turned and dark. Stones jut out from the ground like jagged, crooked teeth. It swallows you whole. The fog is thick and evasive, surrounding you and gathering around you, a train to your skirts that murmur and brush against stones and dirt and the hollowed out ground.Â
A grave with your fatherâs name grows from the earth, forces you to stop, stutter backwards. Your teeth begin chattering, the clanking of bone against bone. You can feel the whispers of wind, something so near. Your heart plummets as you read his name, as you see his grave, which you now see is besides your motherâs.Â
The ground trembles.Â
Their graves crack, splinter like a dropped glass, bursting outwards in a wave of skittering, flaming stone.Â
Frantically, you drop to your knees, try to put them all back together, as if that will somehow help. As if that will fix anything. You curse and cry and there are tears-- there are tears that drop onto burning stone. It sizzles and smokes but you canât put them back together. You are alone, and you canât.Â
Your hands begin to burn, flesh pink and blister white. Mud sucks at your legs and your knees and then you are sinking, sinking, sinking--
Oil drowns you, forces its way down your mouth and your throat and clogs your lungs. Seeps into every part of you. Itâs invasive, forceful in itâs push and pull of you, it sucks at you and you are forced downward, kicking and screaming. Forced to swallow and take and be filled.
You twist, frantic. Try to fight back, but you are caught in the thick of it. It devours your screams and cries and pain.
And from above, there is a cut of silver, a star in the inky sky. A hand; metal and unnatural plunges in for you. And he pulls you clear out of the muck, the earthâs blood and into his arms.
When you emerge, it is as if youâre cleansed by the light. Gone is the slick oil, gone is the choking and drowning and thrashing. Bucky holds you to him now, crushes you to his chest where you can hear the live, thundering beat of his heart.Â
âIâve got you,â He murmurs, cradling your skull as if itâs precious, something to be protected. Your nose is pushed to his neck and you--
You cling to him, swallow down clean gulps of spring air and the juniper bright and metal sharp smell of him. Pine, there is pine and evergreen, too. Clean and fresh and dipping into musk. Your heart slows, lulls, with his voice in your ear; that voice youâd so desperately wanted to hear.
You feel as if youâve heard it your whole life now, as if you canât imagine going another day without hearing it. And he says your name, not Omega, just your name. And he breathes and is warm and alive beneath you.Â
When you look around now, the earth is fertile and bright and warm. Spring damp roses and sweet, honeycomb sunshine. The fauna is in full bloom, an overabundance of life that leaves you inhaling the fragrant air. Itâs so thick, almost cloying.Â
And there is no breeze, you think.Â
And Buckyâs lips are at your neck.Â
And there is a stirring in your stomach but its--
Itâs all wrong.Â
He tries to lay you down. And you donât protest because thereâs something so tempting about it all, so safe, or so instinctual. Thereâs an ache and a burn and you want to shed your skin, you want to let him in and never let him out, bury his body in the ground with you. Become the earth and fertilize the flowers and feed the foxes you love so much. You wanna lie with him until the crow calls, until youâre nothing but him and you and the gem stones deep in the ground.Â
But when his face lifts from your vulnerable neck, it is not him.Â
Rumlow stares down at you, his scarred face so close and imploring. He croons Omega and you shriek, you try to get away, but itâs like the oil all over again; you trapped and thrashing and stuck. Rabbit in a snare. Fox in a trap. You scream, scream for Bucky or Wanda or even Steve or your father. You scream until it tapers off and burns into something ragged, shredding your voice.Â
He is just heavy atop you, and his face is morphing and shifting, like heâs a new creature altogether. Blackened eyes that are too wide, too large and there is a gaping whole where his mouth should be--
You claw at him, scratch with nails, pull at pink flesh and cartilage and bone until he starts dripping blood and saliva, growling like a rabid dog. You twist his face away so sharply, so horribly, that there is a sickening crack and then the full of him collapses atop you.
You squirm and you are crying, choked sobs because it feels like you are burning, or aching. Lonesome and longing or horrified and fearful of everyone. You want to be held in equal measures that you want to run away and never see another face again. You are torn, split in two and unraveling.Â
When you scramble away, deeper into the fragrant wild grass. You realize there is wetness, slick and warm and--
There is blood. So much blood coating your legs and it seeps through your skirts, stemming from between your legs. It pools beneath you, waters the flowers and seeps into the earth as if it belongs there.Â
You howl like an animal, fingers squabbling in the dirt and the blood and your body as if you can put yourself back together again--Â Â
You wake with a hard, sucking gasp. Blinking hard in the darkness. Your hands pull at your nightgown, shift to feel your skin, still warm and dry and clean beneath your heavy quilt. Reassuring, gulping breaths bring back cool air into your lungs. Iâm safe, you tell yourself, it was just a dream.Â
But the night is still dark and the bed still creaks and the wind still howls, almost the way you had when youâd found all that blood-- No.Â
But now youâre just awake, in a lonely room. And there is no comfort, no warmth or forgiveness in the hollowness of it all.Â
You rise in the morning, heavy bags beneath your eyes, and begin your day in hopes of a better one.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#a/b/o verse#alpha/beta/omega au#cowboy au#bucky barnes fanfiction#alpha bucky barnes#omega reader
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Literary Agents Accepting Queries 20-21
List two! I altered the formatting to make the post a bit smaller! <3 and again; A note; these agents are according to my research as of June 12, 2020. To find more information on these agents, just look up their name and agency. How to query to these agents differ, so it would be wise to look into them more. Bolded is the categories, genres, and/or tropes that said agent is interested in. This list was put together by me, and it was only the agents whoâs name start with A. Even though this is labeled as YA, many of these agents are interested in other genres.
* Barbara J. Zitwer (Barbara J. Zitwer Agency), New York, NY General fiction Specializing in Korean Lit and K THRILLERS and authors from Southeast Asia Mystery Romance Suspense/thriller Fantasy/science fiction Juvenile fictionMind/body/spirit Travel Lifestyle Thrillers Literary fiction Women's fiction Translations Commercial fiction Narrative non-fiction YA International authors * Barbara Poelle (Irene Goodman Literary Agency), New York, NY Barbara is looking for high octane thrillers, edgy mysteries, literary and upmarket fiction and YA * Becky LeJeune (Bond Literary Agency), Denver, CO She is interested in adult and teen general fiction, horror, mystery/thriller, historical fiction, science fiction and fantasy, and cookbooks. * Ben Grange (L. Perkins Agency (Lori Perkins Agency)), Riverdale, NY I'm looking for authors who have the ability to give me a visual experience, whether it's through good prose, lively characters, stunning scenery, or actual illustrations. I'm particularly on the lookout for exceptional author-illustrators for MG and YA. * Bernadette Baker-Baughman (Victoria Sanders & Associates), Stone Ridge, NY I am drawn to strong storytelling in all genres, though I have a special interest in thrillers, contemporary novels, magical realism, young adult, and books for kids. * Beth Marshea ( Ladderbird), Boston, MA Young Adult Contemporary: Friendship stories; found family; non-US based settings, Mysteries: Work with high stakes. Thrillers: Stories with big twists. No unreliable narrators. Fantasy: Character-driven and really original. * Bibi Lewis (Ethan Ellenberg Literary Agency), New York, NY Childrenâs (picture books through YA, both fiction and non) and Adult. For Adult titles she is primarily interested in Romance, Womenâs Fiction, Mysteries and Thrillers. * Bob Mecoy (Bob Mecoy Literary Agency), New York, NY General fiction Mystery Romance Suspense/thriller Fantasy/science fiction Biography * Brenda Bowen (Sanford J. Greenburger Associates), New York, NY (AAR Member) represents authors and artists of books for young readers from preschool to young adult; she also represents some adult titles. * Brent Taylor (Triada U.S. Literary Agency), Sewickley, PA He is seeking smart, fun, and heartfelt books in the following categories: picture books, chapter books, middle grade, young adult, and graphic novels for kids and teens. * Brian DeFiore (DeFiore and Company), New York, NY (AAR Member) In fiction: not romance or western. But all other sorts of novels that meet the criteria for âstorytelling talentâ for both adult and young adult readers. * Brianne Johnson (Writers House), New York, NY Iâm also looking for exciting, high-concept, gobble-down-in-one-sitting YA novels that keep me up way past my bedtime (I love creepy/horror/suspense, historical, historical fantasy, and creative fantasy in general) as well as beautiful, literary works that explore the coming-of-age theme from a truly original angle and beg for multiple re-readings. * Bridget McCarthy (McCormick Literary), New York, NY She is seeking literary and commercial fiction, young adult fiction, narrative nonfiction, memoir, and cookbooks.
* Britt Siess (Martin Literary Management), Mill Creek, WA Britt represents everything under the Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror umbrella. If it has to do with comic books, witches, ghosts, or magical realms, send it her way! She looks for stories that are character driven and full of strong, resonating themes. Sheâs interested in literature that completely immerses readers into new worlds and that is imaginative and diverse. She's passionate about bringing more #OwnVoices stories onto bookshelves, and so she's particularly drawn to literature that makes us reflect on our own society and confront the choices weâve made. IMPORTANT NOTE: SHES ONLY ACCEPTING QUERIES FOR GRAPHIC NOVELS AT THE MOMENT! * Brittany Booker Carter (The Booker Albert Literary Agency), York, PA She is looking for novels that keep her up at night and transport her into the pages. In YA and NA she is looking for well-written contemporary and paranormal romances. * Brooks Sherman (Janklow & Nesbit Associates), New York, NY young adult fiction of all genres except paranormal romance. Across all categories, Brooks seeks projects that balance strong voice with gripping plot. Ones that make him laugh earn extra points! He is particularly drawn to stories that elevate marginalized voices and where contemporary social issues are either prominently centered or woven into the worldbuilding; he prefers nuanced narratives over "issue books," in which characters confront such issues over the course of larger personal journeys.
Good luck in your querying lovelies!!
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This Fcking Emergency: Stupid Racist Magic
PLAIDDER: Hello and welcome to this weekâs edition of This Fucking Emergency, an intermittent imaginary cable talk show where I sit down with some of the many imaginary characters I have created or befriended over the years and discuss vital issues of the day. Please welcome back to the program everyoneâs favorite imaginary diplomat, legislator, and former sheep dealer, Conn mac Emer...
CONN: Why are there so many chairs on set today?
PLAIDDER: Because there were two mass shootings within 24 hours last weekend.Â
CONN: I donât see the...
PLAIDDER: OK. I wrote Redemption for a lot of reasons. One of them was that I was trying to understand and maybe imagine a solution for school shootings. This was in 2005, I would just like to remind our viewers. Aught fucking five. Fourteen years ago I finished this novel and I was already, at that point, permanently appalled by this countryâs tolerance for mass shootings in schools.Â
CONN: So what happened to Daphie at Decalon High--
PLAIDDER: Yes. That happens in my country. OFTENER and OFTENER. Now you didnât have a lot to do with that storyline because you were caught up in the other horror of life in the aughts, viz., the War On Terror. But anyway, my point is: because I wrote that novel, when something like this happens...I mean I donât even call them. Your fellow-characters just...show up.
DAPHIE: Hello?
PLAIDDER: Hi, Daphie. If you want to know what youâre doing here--
DAPHIE: Because of the baby and the mother and the father.
PLAIDDER: Exactly. Only in this case, only the baby survived. Because in my world, evidently, we only have one kind of magic.
CONN: I thought your world didnât have shri.
PLAIDDER: We definitely donât.Â
CONN: Then what kind of magic do you--
PLAIDDER: Chandra knows.
CHANDRA: Hi.
CONN: Where the hell did you come from all of a--
PLAIDDER: Chandra, can you just say it? That line of yours thatâs been in my head since El Paso.
CHANDRA: Found a church on stupid racist doctrine, you get stupid racist magic.
PLAIDDER: Yes. And you know how you get even MORE stupid racist magic? You choose, as the person to lead your nation, a stupid racist mage.
CONN: Nothing about your president seems magical to me.
PLAIDDER: Yes, well, thatâs the Ideiren point of view. But what Chandraâs talking about is National. It is in fact the only kind of magic in your universe that originated in the Nation.
CHANDRA: I always thought it was all bullshit. I mean...my family definitely tried to annihilate me with it, and here I still am--
PLAIDDER: All right, let me explain what I mean by âmagicâ in this context.Â
AINE: This should be interesting.
CONN: Shriia! I didnât know youâd be here.
AINE: Neither did I.
PLAIDDER: Like I said. I donât even call them; they just come. Anyway. I had an old friend over for dinner the other day who was talking about what we call âthe magic of the theater.â Now, when I say that Iâm usually being ironic, but he seems to really believe in it and to be honest Iâm not totally sure that I donât. A lot of contemporary performance theory is based at some distance on the idea of theater as a ritual which at some point in the distant past was efficacious.
SONNIA: Effiwhatnow?
PLAIDDER: And welcome to you too, Sonnia.Â
AINE:Â âEfficaciousâ means that it actually makes something happen. So, take haons linn.
SONNIA: You mean that weird thing you do at five in the morning.
AINE: To you itâs a weird thing I do at five in the morning. To me and to the rest of my people itâs how we help create the world. To you itâs a ritual the same way, I donât know, brushing your teeth is a ritual. To us, itâs efficacious. It keeps the world together. I can skip it under extraordinary circumstances once in a while and things will be all right, but thatâs only because other shriias will be doing haons linn somewhere else. If we all stopped doing haons linn...the sun wouldnât rise. The whole world would just stay dark, forever.
SONNIA: Really?
AINE: Yes, really.
SONNIA: So what explains the fact the sun rises in the Nation?
AINE: It rises in the Nation because weâre all on the same island.
SONNIA: What about Dubhinis? Thereâs no shriias in Dubhinis.
TYRNA: Donât you wish.
PLAIDDER: Hello, Tyrna, thanks for joining us.
AINE: Donât be hard on her, Tyrna, she was raised to believe--
TYRNA: I know what she was raised to believe in.
SONNIA: So you do haons linn.
TYRNA: I donât. Thatâs an Ideiren thing. But we do other things to keep our world together. Despite what you hear from Chandraâs people--
CHANDRA: Theyâre not my people any more--
TYRNA: --the Nation is not the center of the universe. The Nation only continues to exist because the rest of us are building the world around it.Â
SONNIA: Thatâs nuts. The world is real, whether--
TYRNA: Nobodyâs saying itâs not.
PLAIDDER: Well, I kind of am. I mean, your world isnât actually real. Itâs created. Itâs created by me, you know, with the support of the people who read it. And that means Tyrnaâs absolutely right. I wouldnât have created this world just to write about the Nation. On the other hand, I couldnât, or at least I didnât, create Ideire or Dubhinis or Plenana or any of the other islands without also creating the Nation.
TYRNA: Why the hell not?Â
AINE: Tyrna!
PLAIDDER: No, sheâs right to ask. Of all the places in your universe, the Nation is the one most like the place where I come from.
CHANDRA: Thatâs...really depressing.
PLAIDDER: Youâre telling me.Â
CONN: Werenât we talking about the magic of the theater?
PLAIDDER: Yes. Yes we were. Anyway, so my friendâs idea of the magic of the theater is this: You have a vision of something you want to make happen. The thing does not come into existence at that moment. You have to work to make it happen. You find other people and you share the vision with them, and you find a place, and you find a lot of other stuff, and eventually the thing that you imagined becomes real--so real that other people can see it. This is an ordinary process that goes on all over the place all the time. But when you think about it, this is actually kind of what magic is. You imagine something, and that makes it real.
SONNIA: Iâm not getting any of this.
AINE: I think weâd better move on. I spent months trying to move Sonnia past this stage and it never happened.
PLAIDDER: And then what I said was--and this was before all of THIS happened--thereâs a passage in one of the Little House books where Pa explains the railroad the same way. The engineers imagine a railroad, and then everybody goes out west and works 24/7 and digs dirt and pounds steel and eats pancackes and gets paid because of something thatâs just an idea, that doesnât exist at all. Itâs a really interesting passage--itâs in By the Shores of Silver Lake, I think.Â
CHANDRA: Of course the real magic there is--
PLAIDDER: Imperialism and capitalism, yes. But thatâs my point. This having a vision and making it real thing is a lot of fun and I think, mostly, good for people in the theater, as long as the Vision-Haver is, you know, a clueful and compassionate person who cares about the human consequences of their magic. But thereâs nothing inherently good about this process of making a vision real. It can be bad. It can be really bad. It can be REALLY. FUCKING. BAD.
DAPHIE: Like...
PLAIDDER: Yes. Exactly.
SONNIA: I donât know what sheâs--
PLAIDDER: Daphieâs whole novel is about me trying to understand one particular kind of very bad magic. I was trying to understand how a thing like the shooting at Decalon High is imagined and then how it is made real. Over and over, oftener and oftener. It seemed to me as if every evil vision, every malicious imagination in my world had collaborated to create this thing. I wrote...I donât even know how many hundred thousand words went into that novel. Letâs just say the problem and the solution in Redemption are about three times as complicated as they are in any of the earlier novels. And when I look back on it, I can only see one thing about that explanation that I think is really true, that I think is still true now.
CONN: Which is what?
CHANDRA: Stupid racist magic.
PLAIDDER: Bingo.
CHANDRA: âBingoâ?!
PLAIDDER: Itâs...oh, never mind. Look, about fifty years ago Jerome Bixby was trying to understand the magic of war and he wrote a script for a show called Star Trek called âDay of the Dove.â And in that episode, there are these energy beings that feed off aggression. So they try to bait all the people on this one ship into fighting each other, so they can feed. The individual Starfleet or Klingon people think they want war but thereâs actually some force out there making them want it, making them do things, imagining a war and then making it happen. And itâs remarkable how durable this idea is. I mean you could link it back to Tolstoy and War And Peace, where he tries to understand a thing like the war of 1812 and takes all those thousands of pages to prove that none of the historical explanations for it matter worth a damn. The war happened because Providence wanted to move people from west to east and this was the way Providence found of making that real. Or in season 2 of Stranger Things, they start calling the monster the Mind-Flayer and everything gets tentacly and it is weird, it is REALLY weird for me, how much that damn thing looks like an arani--like the biggest fucking arani ever--
AINE: I hate arani.
PLAIDDER: Yes! I hate them too! They are the nastiest fucking things in the ether apart from the kraikk, and as with the Mind-Flayer and those pumpkin patch death vines and all of these things are metaphors for whatever it is out there that keeps making humans hurt and kill each other when clearly, clearly, that is not what most individual human beings want or what most of them would do if they were free.
TYRNA: Says you.
PLAIDDER: All right. Says me.Â
TYRNA: You want to know what I think?
PLAIDDER: Sure.
TYRNA: Put whatever metaphors you want on it. Under the costume itâs always greed. Just people grabbing what they can get and then trying to kill anyone who looks like they might take it from them. Throwing the whole world out of balance. I keep trying to right the balance and itâs like water in a sieve. A hundred women like me couldnât do it. A thousand couldnât do it.
CHANDRA: All right, greed, definitely, but like...I mean...the cruelty. The cruelty isnât just about greed. Sometimes the cruelty actually interferes with the greed. People have a choice between them and they choose cruelty.Â
TYRNA: I never said your magic was efficient. Itâs been pretty efficacious, all the same.
CHANDRA: But why the cruelty? I mean thatâs the question thatâs kept a dozen of my therapists up at night. Cruelty beyond monetary gain, cruelty beyond utility. Cruelty as...as, like, a god unto itself.
TYRNA: Cruelty and greed are both lusts and theyâre limbs of the same tree grown from the same rotten root.
PLAIDDER: So anyway...what I said was, if theater is magic, then, fascism is magic too. Someone has a vision. He calls out to other people. Other people share that vision. Then they make it real. And itâs hideous. Thatâs what--I mean, Rhinoceros.
CONN: I beg your pardon?
PLAIDDER: This old French play where everyone turns into rhinoceroses. No reason, they just do it. Because somethingâs making it happen. Itâs not called magic, itâs called absurdism. But itâs the same thing: why the fuck is this hideous transformation taking place? Why canât anyone stop it? I mean I think the arani and all those metaphors Tyrna is quite rightly impatient with--itâs our way of representing the just--fucking--irrationality of it all. It starts to seem at some point as if nobody really WANTS this, itâs just happening because the thing thatâs making it happen is too powerful to stop. Like, an arani doesnât have an agenda. It just grows. Thatâs all it does. It has no brain and no intelligence, itâs just an empty bag of guts with filaments hooked into a hundred different heads. It can be manipulated by an intelligent and powerful human...to a point. And after that it just...feeds. This image that we have of this monstrous indefinable thing that makes us do horrible things to each other--I mean--we made it real. We MADE IT REAL. We keep making it. First itâs newspapers then itâs phones then itâs radio then itâs television now itâs the internet. And THAT MAN goes out there and fills up this arani with his--he goes out there and does his--
CHANDRA: Stupid racist magic.
PLAIDDER: People in my country mostly donât believe that curses are efficacious. But they are. If youâre powerful enough, you can curse people. If youâre the president of the united states, you can call down evil on someone, and the evil will materialize. He says the words--and theyâre stupid, stupid words--but they still have power. They suggest images to people who hear them. And then people go and make them real. And then he can say it had nothing to do with him. Because there is no material, no evidentiary, no objective chain of causation. But everyone knows heâs doing it. Everyone knows. Regardless of what they admit. They know that his stupid racist magic is killing people. In El Paso. In Dayton. In Gilroy. Heâs imagined a world in which white men are omnipotent and heâs making it real.
AINE: Trying to make it real.
PLAIDDER: Aine, it *is* real, donât you understand, itâs real in a way that much as I love you you can never be.
CONN: If that gleachinai is doing magic then heâs not the only one. There are other visions in your country. There are better visions. People share them and work at them and some of them come true some of the time. You know that. I donât understand why you say that this is the only kind of magic your world has. It isnât.
PLAIDDER: But stupid racist magic just keeps killing people and I donât understand why it just keeps getting stronger and more powerful and--
TYRNA: BECAUSE IT HAS GUNS.
PLAIDDER: OK, I get that, but--
TYRNA: Do you though? I donât think you do. Thereâs nothing magical about any of this. Yeah, words have power, even when idiots use them. Because the idiots HAVE THE GUNS. All of this nonsense keeps happening in your country because nobody has taken the guns away from the idiots.
PLAIDDER: Itâs very hard to take a gun away from an idiot.
TYRNA: Honey, what about me or my backstory would ever make you think that I do NOT know that?
PLAIDDER: Nothing.
TYRNA: Damn right. Yeah, itâs hard. Itâs hard watching idiots ruin the world. Itâs a crime and a shame. Itâs unfair. But none of that is a new thing for me, all right? Iâve been fighting stupid racist magic all my life and I will tell you this. You want the balance restored, you have to take some guns away from some idiots. Now when is that going to happen, in your world?
PLAIDDER: Well, Tyrna, it could be said that your whole universe is the result of the fact that it is easier for me to imagine demons and monsters and devils and people shooting fire out of their hands than it is to imagine the government of my actual country actually taking guns away from idiots.
TYRNA: Wow.
PLAIDDER: Yeah.
DAPHIE: It isnât always idiots.
PLAIDDER: Daphie...
DAPHIE: Jarad wasnât an idiot.
PLAIDDER: I know. But some idiot made it easy for Jarad to get a RAF. I mean I never even explained how that happened, because in my own world thatâs not an extrarordinary event. Like, of course he could find a RAF when he wanted one, thatâs how things just are. I was...when I wrote your book, I was...not interested in that part of it. I was chasing all these other explanations, because that was what we all did, back in the aughts.
CHANDRA: So...I mean...what. You...regret the whole...our whole story?
PLAIDDER: No, no no. I just feel like...well, it took me a long time to accept the fact that actual problems are sometimes less interesting than fictional ones. Like, the fact that a problem is hard to solve doesnât mean that its solution is fiendishly complicated. Sometimes the solution is really fucking simple. Too simple to entertain people. Too simple for narrative.
CONN: Is this, like, a two-hour special or something? Itâs already gone on way longer than normal.
PLAIDDER: I know. I can never resolve these things, I just have to...end them. So I am. Thanks for coming, everyone. I hope itâs a long time before I see you again.
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Hi! ^^ I'm glad to find another Mitsuhide fan! Since you're open to requests, I'd like to ask for some fluff/romance with the prompt "poetry". I don't mind it being in the Sengoku Period or an AU, whatever you prefer. Thank you! ⥠And Happy Birthday!
Hello Anon! (çŹÂșÏÂșçŹ) Thanks to you for requesting something! And for your good wishes!
As you asked, hereâs some Mitsuhide and poetry. Itâs set in a Modern AU (I told you I was dangerous regarding that XDDD). I sincerely hope that you like it *^^*
Title: The Poetry of Love
Characters: Mitsuhide/MC
Words: 3720 (no, I donât know how to write short stories ^^U)
Notes: Thereâs actual poetry scattered in the story, three poems, to be precise.
1. Kobayashi Issa, 1763 - 1827
2. Ono no Komachi, 825 - 900
3. Kitahara Hakushu, 1885 - 1942
Also, thereâs a modified quote from the film âSense and Sensibilityâ (1996) marked with an *
Tagging @han-pan and @otonymous, great Mitsuhide fans, like me âż
THE POETRY OF LOVE
As part of his every day routine, Akechi Mitsuhide walked along the tall bookcases that filled the little library he worked in, his fingers sometimes brushing the spine of one of his favourite books, his eyes warming when they fell on a title which brought back memories of childhood laughter or sleepless nights under the covers, devouring pages until the hero triumphed at the end, and his heartbeat calmed down as excitement gave way to a satisfactory feeling.
He stepped out of the prose fiction narrative side, crossed the room, passing by his desk, near the main entrance, and entered the poetry section. Despite being a fan of action and historical stories, filled with samurai devoted to their code of honour, what had truly enchanted his heart, and what had made him who he was in the present, was poetry. He had loved learning by heart the little poems his teachers had taught during his lessons in kindergarten and the first years of primary school, and he remembered himself reciting them once and again as he bounced up and down the stairs of his family house, or running around in her grandmotherâs traditional garden. Those were about animals and plants, and a smile found its way across his lips as they recited one in a murmur.
Splish, splash (Neko arau)
The cat washes (Zabu zabu kawa ya)Â Â Â Â Â
Spring rain (Haru no ame)
That had been one of the reasons why he had studied Japanese Literature at university and why he had decided to be a librarian. He hoped that somebody else could discover how fun literature could be.
However, when he had arrived at that library, located in a little town in the center of Japan, he had discovered that his work would not probably be as enjoyable as his young self had thought it would be. It was in an old building in need of many repairs, it was disorganised and only old people and young students in need visited it. With great effort, and applying for funds to the different governments, he had renewed the furniture, sorted out the books in sections and started having small events that little by little, had attracted more people, especially children.
He sat down on the floor in an almost hidden corner at the end of the corridor where the oldest books were. It was the place he loved the most in that old building. There, he had found his solace when sometimes his efforts had not been rewarded, especially at the beginning. In those times, after closing, he prepared himself some tea in the back room and brought a cup there, picking up a random book on his way, spending hours in silence until his body started to give in to the tiredness of the day, his soul at peace and ready to face the following day with new strength.
His fingertips brushed the back of the bookcase on his left and he extracted a volume from it. It was bound in the traditional way and, opposite to the rest, it belonged to him. Opening it, he leafed through it, glancing over the numerous notes he had written across the pages until he found an envelope between them. It was a bit discoloured and rumpled after all the times he had taken the letter out and read it, but it was the most treasured thing he possessed in this world. He opened it and his eyes fell on the words that he already knew by heart.
Thinking about you, (Omoi tsutsu)
I slept and saw you (Nu re baya hito no)
In the dream. (Mie zu ram)
If I had known itâd have been dream, (Yume to shiri seba)
I wouldnât have woken up. (Same zara mashi wo)
He read it a second time and then, put the paper back in the envelope, and this, inside the book, not wanting to risk anybody knowing that he had given his heart a long time ago to someone he was not allowed to love. He had met her a few weeks after he had arrived in the town. She was an almost seventeen-year-old high school student who had arrived there in search of a book for a project and, he could not help a smile as he closed his eyes and leant back his head on the wall, he had never seen someone so lost before. It had been so obvious that it was the first time she had stepped in that place and he had helped her as much as he had been able to in her research. She was the oldest child of the owner of a traditional restaurant he had passed a few times on his way to and back from the library but with so much work ahead of him, he had not had time to go up to that moment. Days later, she had returned with a bento for him, filled with delicacies that he had discovered she had cooked herself, as a token of gratitude, and he had taken a break to enjoy a delicious meal for the first time since he had arrived.
However, contrary to this first impression, during their conversation at lunch she proved to be intelligent, curious and with a deep thirst for knowledge. From then on, they had enjoyed little conversations about literature, animals and many other topics over tea whenever she had free time and there were no people there and sometimes, she had helped him set some of the events.
He had been really surprised when months later, on Valentineâs Day, she had given him some chocolates and a love letter. Her cheeks had been red as roses in full bloom and her shy smile beautiful and enchanting. And it had been at that precise moment that he had realised how deep in love he was with her. However, not even opening the message, and as gently as he could, he had rejected her. She was still a child and there was a whole world of wonders and experiences waiting for her. He would not be the one to steal that from her and taint her innocence. She had just nodded, trying to contain her tears and had told him with a trembling voice to keep the chocolates, since she had made them only for him.
With a heavy heart but being convinced that he had done the correct thing, he had resigned himself to having lost a true friend and a kindred soul. However, he had been extremely surprised when, a few days later, she had visited the library again. Her eyes were slightly red and puffy, and her smile a bit hesitant, but as she had told him, he was very important to her and she wanted to have him in her life even if they could not become something more.
Mitsuhide smiled. She was a truly admirable woman and he was glad that they could continue enjoying each otherâs company up to the present.
âI knew Iâd find you here.â
Her voice reached his ears and he smiled softly as he opened his eyes and looked at her. Five years had already passed since that fateful Valentineâs Day, and he had seen her graduate, study to be a cook and start working in her parentsâ traditional restaurant, which she would run next to her brother when they retired. He still loved her, dearly, deeply. Her smile brought sunshine to the deepest and darkest corners of his soul and every time her pupils shone with excitement or concern, or sadness, he felt those emotions echoing inside him too.
âYou always knowâ he watched her walk to him. âHowâs your stay in Tokyo been?â
âReally good. I learnt a lot these three weeks during the cooking course and also, I met very important chefs.â
âIâm glad.â
She sat down opposite him, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous spark.
âHow about you? Already feeling depressed for being a year older?â
His smile broadened at her playful teasing and he lifted a brow.
âAnd whoâs the one who prefers the company of this old sulking man?â
She giggled softly.
âWell, itâs not so bad to have birthdays⊠You get presents, secret pa-â
She interrupted herself, her hand flying to her mouth and Mitsuhideâs eyes opened with slight terror.
âPlease, tell me that you didnâtâŠâ
She shook her head, her hand still covering half of her face.
âI know how much you dislike big gatherings. It was Nobunagaâs idea and, even though we tried to persuade him, once he sets his mind on something, itâs impossible to make him change his mind.â
He sighed, nodding absently. He had met the entrepreneur when he had established himself there the year before. It was really strange for an important person to settle down in such a place, so he had been the talk of the town for quite a few weeks. But, as the man had told him later, he needed a change of scene and since he mostly worked from home, it did not matter where he was. They had become acquaintances and then, friends quickly. Since Nobunaga liked to meddle in other peopleâs affairs, as soon as he had known about the financial troubles the librarian was having, he had invested money, first to make some expensive repairs the old building needed and later, when the funds from the prefecture government he was expecting were denied. Every time, he had said that it was a good investment to pay less taxes, but Mitsuhide knew that, behind that cheeky arrogant character of his laid a generous heart and a true friend.
âBut please, look surprised when you arrive at the restaurant tonight. Heâll have my head if he suspects I told youâŠâ
âDonât worryâ he assured her with a small smile. âIâll be speechless for sure. Who knows what heâs planningâŠâ
She laughed and he marvelled, once again, at the sound, clear like bells ringing.
âAnd, what are you doing here? Itâs really earlyâŠâ
A barely imperceptible change in her features, something that for others would have passed unnoticed but not for someone who knew her so well as him, sparked his curiosity, but also his concern .
âNothing, really. I just-â she put her hand in the pocket of the denim jacket she wore. âI just wanted to wish you a happy day and give you your present before anyone else.â
Mitsuhide rolled his eyes with a wry smile.
âOh, gods, how many more plans do you know about?â
âI lost countâ she looked at him with a smug smile but a moment later, she became serious. âYouâre a very appreciated man here, Mitsuhide.â
âI just love my job and these old booksâ his fingers trailed down the side of the bookcase next to him, looking around fondly. âAnd Iâd like everybody to enjoy them and feel the joy they can bring, even just a little.â
âAnd they love you for itâ a soft smile had drawn across her mouth as a lovely blush coloured her face, and his heart skipped a beat.
However, she seemed to caught herself and she turned her head away from him, as if she were afraid of having revealed something, fidgeting for a moment with the things she had taken out of her pocket before putting them on the floor, in front of him.
âHappy birthdayâ she said putting her hands on her lap and bowing slightly.
A small box and an envelope. Mitsuhide felt his throat dry, remembering a similar day, five years before. She had given him other presents, big wooden boxes which contained tea cups, or rectangular parcels wrapped in colourful papers that hid books that he kept in a special shelf at home, but never again a letter and a small box.
She stood up.
âIâll have a look at a couple of shelves down the corridor before going homeâ she hesitated for a moment. âOpen them whenever you want and⊠Iâd be grateful if you read it this time, please.â
She disappeared from his sight as she turned around one of the bookcases and his gaze fell on the gifts with a feeling of apprehension. It was as if fate was mocking him and he was condemned to repeat that moment again. He did not want to hurt her.
However, a voice whispered at the back of his mind, she was not a child anymore. She was now a fully grown woman who did not need anyone else to protect her anymore. He did not have to think of what was best for her because she was the one who made the decisions about her own life now.
He realised with a slight startle that his hand was reaching out for the box and he stopped himself. What would he do if it was what he thought? He had spent so much time loving her and at the same time, repressing his feelings that he was afraid of the chance of them being returned with no obstacles between them, of setting free the fire inside him and consume her because deep inside the kind, level-headed librarian, there was a shadow of possessiveness and passion that sometimes, he could barely control.
But also, it could be something else. Maybe it was just an innocent card wishing him Happy Birthday, or some Tokyo-related postcard that she had thought he might like.
Whatever it was, she had asked him to read it and, as her friend and a man true to his word, he would do it. Breathing deeply, he took the box and opened it.
Inside, there was a beautiful leather double-wrap bracelet with a silver bellflower, his favourite, on top. He admired the work for a moment and then, put it on his right wrist. It was perfect, simple, elegant and yet, modern.
Leaving the box aside, he picked up the envelope. It was made of thick blue paper and his name was on the front with small characters, slightly round and carefully written. Inhaling once more, he opened it and took a folded paper of the same colour from inside. Her calligraphy was delicate and clean, and immediately told him how much time she had spent on it.
âDear Mitsuhide,
I think I can imagine what youâre experiencing as you start reading this. It seems like we went back five years ago, on a rainy Valentines Day that has never faded from my memories. To tell you the truth, I feel really stupid doing this but I wonât be at peace with myself unless I try one more time. As you said, I was a child then and, such as one, I got impatient and I let my feelings for you overflow. I know I hurt you and that I risked our beautiful bond. After my confession and our conversation, I considered myself really fortunate because you overlooked that mistake and kept on behaving the same, without feeling uncomfortable or trying to put some distance between us. If you felt otherwise, you fooled me completely.
This time, Iâm talking as the woman Iâve become. Looking back with the maturity these years gave me, I can say that I truly feel thankful because you rejected me that day. You gave me the best present Iâve ever received: the wings to fly, the space to grow and enjoy that world of wonders and experiences, as you called it, and the precious treasure of your company and friendship.
However, I need to say that my love not only did not fade away but grew stronger and that my heart was, is and always will be yours.* I donât have any expectations but sometimes, thereâs been something in your eyes, in the way you look and smile at me, that never let the tiny hope still left inside of me die.
So now you know, but Iâm not going to pressure you for an answer. I can wait. I only ask of you to see me for who I am now and think about it carefully. And in the case that you reject me a second time, I wonât bring up the topic ever again. I donât want to hurt you or our friendship anymore. I cherish your presence in my life more than anything in the world.
Your faithful friend.â
Mitsuhide swallowed hard, re-reading the last lines again, before scrambling to his feet and starting to look for her among the bookcases. He did not need to think of anything. He already knew the answer. That their feelings had not vanished in five years had to mean that, as foolish as it sounded, the red thread of destiny existed and his tied him to her inevitably. He loved her and for once, he was going to follow his heart and not his logic, to be selfish and grab the bliss that awaited him, to devote himself to her until his last breath and make her happy every single day of their lives.
The library had never seemed so big as that time, desperate as he was when he could not find her. Thinking that she might have already headed home, he turned on his heels to exit the back door to catch her before she reached her house and suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of purple, the same colour of the skirt she was wearing.
He stopped in his tracks to drink in the sight of her. She had an open book in her hands, but her absent expression and that her eyes were a bit misty told him that her mind was far away from there, probably the reason why she had not noticed him standing there, a few meters from her.
He took the first step, his fingers gripping tightly the letter still in his hand and suddenly, she lifted her head, clearly shaken, his widened eyes falling on him. All colour drew from her face and her lips parted slightly. silently, he reached and took her into the circle of his arms, burying his face in her hair. She stiffened for a moment just before returning his embrace with as much strength as him, a strangled sob leaving her throat upon hearing his words in her ear, only for her.
A Hyacinth, (Hiyashinsu)
The pale purple colored (Usumurasaki ni)
Flower bloomed. (Saki ni keri)
It was the first day (Hajimete kokoro)
She shook my heart. (Furuisome shi hi)
âShhh, donât cry, my darlingâŠâ he cooed softly, cradling her head into the curve of his neck. âIâm so sorry for having made you wait for so long⊠I thought I was the mature one but itâs obvious that it was me who wasnât readyâŠâ
She shook her head.
âYouâre always so warm-hearted to everybody⊠I believed I was mistaking your kindness for something else when I tried to read your feelingsâŠâ she took a ragged breath. âI was so afraid, I thought youâd be so disappointed with me after leaving the matter behind five years agoâŠâ
âI was happy just seeing you smile⊠I was ready to give you up and support you when you chose a good man, since I refused to have any hopes after that day⊠You were so young, I thought that youâd forget about your affection as time passed byâŠâ he made a pause, tightening his hold on her, enjoying her warmth. âAnd now, finallyâŠâ
She nodded and laughed, and he felt like he was soaring the sky.
âDonât tell me Iâll have to cancel the party tonight.â
Both were startled by the brisk comment which came from the hall where the front desk was. There, a man wearing jeans, a grey shirt and a red jacket was looking at them with a slightly annoyed expression, though his pupils sparked with clear amusement. The couple let go of each other blushing profusely in clear embarrassment at having been caught.
âNow, donât be such prudesâ he said putting his hand in his waist. âI thought you were an item when I arrived here and met you both. It was so obvious to everybody except you twoâ he glanced at Mitsuhide. âI was tempted to give you a push, a big one, but I decided not to do your own damn job. Took you long enough.â
The librarian looked at him a bit confused for a moment, but them smiled.
âThank you.â
Nobunaga seemed a bit uncomfortable for a moment.
âWell, since youâre busy and I have a meeting in an hour, letâs drop the matter of the new computers for another day. Iâll see you two tonight. Donât be late or Iâll give you a truly unpleasant surprise youâll never forget.â
They nodded, knowing very well that he would surely do it if they dared to disobey him. Nobunaga turned around and took a step, but then, he stopped, looked over his shoulder and smiled softly, something that they had rarely seen.
âHappy birthday, Mitsuhide. You deserve it.â
And then, he walked to the door with quick steps.
They smiled at each other, amused expressions on their faces.
âHeâs like a whirlwindâŠâ
âYesâ he agreed with a fond expression on his face.
Looking into her eyes, and forgetting about their interruption at once, he lifted his hand and caressed her face tenderly, brushing away any traces left of her tears. She bit her lip and half closed her eyes.
âSorry I stained your shirtâŠâ
âDonât worry about thatâ his fingers stilled, cupping her cheek, and he searched her eyes for the slightest spark of doubt.
At that moment, a dull sound reached their ears and, though it was probably a book which had fallen from its upright position, he did not want to risk being caught again. He took her hand and brought her behind the bookcases. Taking her again in his arms, he leaned forward slowly, brushing his lips across her forehead, her temple and her cheek. Her lids fluttered closed immediately and, after making sure they were away from possible inopportune visits and prying eyes, he closed the distance between them. He did not want any witnesses of their first kiss.
THE END
#otome games#samurai love ballad party#slbp#ask#fanfic#akechi mitsuhide#slbp mitsuhide#hbdmitsuhide#writing
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Muertos
~I wrote this for a class once, but it has to do with the topic of haunting so Iâm sharing as a post.~
The first time I met Millito I was an undergraduate at the University of Puerto Rico. At the time, a few of my classmates and I were volunteers on a project in the town of ManatĂ. On the first day, we made a run to a nearby colmadito (small corner shop) to buy some lunch: fresh bread, ham and butter. âÂżUstedes son estudiantes?â [Are you all students?], Millito, who was from the neighborhood and chatting with the guy at the cash register when he saw us walk in, asked us while we waited for our order. Apparently, our hiking boots and reusable water bottles gave us away. We told Millito that we were Archaeology students volunteering for extra credit at the nearby Hacienda. The project was on an old sugar cane plantation with a grand manor that was recently acquired by the Fideicomiso (Trust), a nonprofit organization whose mission was to protect lands that were of âhigh ecological valueâ. Millito asked us if we dug up anything while we were there. We told him that, to our disappointment, we had mostly classified shells and old collections of pottery. âWhen I was little, we used to find all kinds of stuff in our backyards. The slaves and indigenous people would make stuff out of coarse clay. Theyâre scattered all over the place! I would expect there to be a bunch at the Hacienda too.â, Millito responded. âHave you not been to the Hacienda?â, we asked him. âNot since they [the Trust] bought it.â With food in hand and after wishing everybody at the colmadito a nice day we were on our way back to the Hacienda.
In those days, the drive towards the Hacienda was both my favorite and least favorite part of our visits. We would pass through a smooth, freshly paved road, the only thing that seemed to interrupt the historic landscape. The road would cut right through the middle of the lush green pasture that went as far as the eye could see, until the grand Hacienda and its spinning windmill would peek through the hillside. I still remember the salty winds as they would make strenuous sounds on my ears, how my mouth would always dry up with the taste of the dunesâ faded sand on my lips and how my nose would always pick up the smell of the ocean. I was instantly transported to a place where time stood still. A peaceful, thriving, nostalgic place. Then, all of a sudden, we would spot the enormous muertos (speed bumps) and brace for impact. The car would almost need to come to a complete stop, if not, we were most likely to hit our heads on the car ceiling. Regardless of our precautions, our bodies would move abruptly into the air, and landed on our seats with the shock of the muertos. And just like that, we were brought back into the present time. Completely ruining the nice facade.
Once we had our lunch, the people at the Fideicomiso offered to give us a tour of the property. We huddled up in their all-terrain vehicles and we headed out past the muertos (the horror) towards the sites where archaeologist had found historical materials that were now part of the Fideicomisoâs collection, which we were now classifying. On our way to the sites we spotted a few homes at the edge of the property. âA lot of our neighbors are actually descendants of the people who used to work at the Hacienda many years agoâ, our guide said to us right before we passed through a banner that hung off of one of the homes that said âPaâ fuera el Fideicomisoâ [Off with the Trust]. At the time, the communityâs attitude towards the Fideicomiso did not seem very neighborly to me, but then again, referring to slaves as âplantation workersâ wasnât any better either.
We arrived at one of the oldest sites within the property. I was quickly moved by the beautiful oceanic view: old dunes covered in grass, waves crashing along the shore, it was all very enticing. I soaked the whole thing in until I became puzzled as to why there was a cement wall in the middle of this beautiful view. I was even more mystified after I found out that this was the place where indigenous materials were found. The guide sensed our confusion and explained that an archaeologist in the 90âs decided it was best to seal off the site so as to wear off local looters after a few disturbances in the surrounding neighborhood were reported. The Fideicomisoâs goal was to protect the site, assuring that the communityâs legacy was well guarded by being sealed from neighborhood looters.
The rest of our visits were mostly us classifying more materials. On occasion, we would stop by at local establishments to eat fried seafood before heading back to the city. We would talk to the neighbors, including Millito, who would ask us what classes we were taking, what stuff did we learn, and what we were doing working with the Fideicomiso. âYou know, they have this Citizen Science program where they seek to recruit people from the community. So, if anyone would like to know more about what the Fideicomiso does on a day to day basis, they can always sign up.â, we said one time in an attempt to enlist more volunteers to our project. âWe donât like how they work, thatâs the problem.â, Millito said to us one evening. âThey came here a few years ago, supposedly to conserve and restore the property, and they completely changed stuff around. Sure, the road was within their right, but everybody has always taken that route. Now nos ponen los muertos [they installed those speed bumps] and they subject us to a curfew. They close the entrance to the rode by 6 pm, after visiting hours and after everybody who works there has gone home. Thereâs no way in or out during that time. What about those of us who live and sleep here, huh? Shouldnât we get to use the road?â, Millito said before finishing his beer and heading out while saying farewell. âI should go. The gate closes in 15 minutes.â
A few weeks had passed and each time we would get more acquainted with the neighbors. On each visit we would piece together more and more on what was behind the whole âPaâ fuera el Fideicomisoâ sentiment. We came to find out that the road was just a part of it. Once, while doing remote field surveys, Millito asked us about some bright tiny orange flags that were scattered throughout the field. We explained that they[archaeologist] had found some old fishing equipment. âYeah, we used to fish. I could have told you that.â, Millito then explained that, âbefore, nadie pasaba hambre. [nobody was left hungry] Everyone in this neighborhood used to work the land and sell their crops, but then those supermarkets came and put us all out of business. Those of us who stayed now work in construction. Those that left sold their land to the Fideicomiso.â Land rights were a touchy subject especially for displaced communities who are often cast as invaders of whatever land they settled into, even if they had been around for as long as the hacendados (who owned the haciendas). Land rights in the 50s were mostly granted to the jĂbaros (mountain land workers, mostly Spanish settlers) and not to the afro descendants on the coast. Once the sugar cane economy fell, the now free people had to settle in the outskirts, making their own subsistence. They lived off the land and the sea for so long but were now seeing their whole way of life slowly dwindling. âSo few of us are left, I donât know how long weâll be able to manage. Once all the nearby construction jobs are gone, where would we go?â, Millito said, sounding a bit defeated.
After a few passing conversations on the neighborhoodâs history, Millito invited us to his home. His house, we were told, was made with old discarded wood from the Hacienda. As we entered, I noticed that a few of his family pictures were dispersed on top of a mantle. A few pictures were of him fishing with his dad, having fun on the beach with his cousins and posing on the porch with his grandparents. âThey [the people who work at the Fideicomiso] have approached me a couple of times, you know, to see if I was interested in selling. Iâve heard of what they [mayors and developers] are doing to cities like Guaynabo that have yanked people away to build hotels, but, you see, I want to leave my kids something. This land is all thatâs left of my family, and no matter how tough things get you donât leave family behind. Thatâs how people survived back then.â, Millito said as he looked at his family photos. Millitoâs words reminded me of something my great grandmother would say: Aunque tenga que comer tierra, mis hijos comerĂĄn tierra conmigo. [Even if I have to eat dirt, my children will at least eat dirt with me] Though it might seem a bit crass, the idea that family unity under harsh circumstances is vital for subsistence, is not. Others, even myself, might see the Hacienda as this breathtaking piece of history, but it is important to keep in mind that others, such as Millito and his neighbors, do not see it quite in the same light. From what I see, the Fideicomiso chose to preserve a certain kind of history, either hacendados or indigenous history, but not the slaves. The Fideicomiso works so tirelessly to preserve the landâs history yet displaces and tires ongoing stories of perseverance.
On our last day working in the project we decided to visit one of our favorite local establishments and say goodbye to the neighbors we had become acquainted with during our many visits. Before we made our way towards the city Millito suggested we go to his house to have some coffee so that we would be awake and alert on our way home. It was still early so we were able to past through the Haciendaâs rode and their muertos. I took one final look at the Hacienda but this time I was not transported to a time where there ones stood a peaceful, thriving nostalgic place. All I could think about were the muertos that lied ahead, that would get me out of my cushy seat, and leave me with a bit of aftershock. Once we arrived at Millitoâs house we sat on his porch and drank cafĂ© puya (bitter unsweetened black coffee) out of mismatched mugs while looking out into his backyard that had yet another grand ocean view. The only thing that stood out more than the view were a few wooden crosses laid out between the overgrown pasture. âBefore cemeteries were a thing, we would just bury our muertos (dead) in the backyard, Millito said as he picked up our empty cups. âBut there are more at the Haciendaâ, he said as he put our cups away.
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Iâll admit, itâs sometimes a little hard to know where I stand with you. I do take your reassurances at face value, of course, and I know I often need reminding. but I also try to remember that youâve been through a hell of a lot emotionally. I only know what youâve told me; I donât have your lived experiences. thereâs a lot that youâve gone through that I donât even know about, and you donât have to tell me about it-- itâs enough to know it happened. I canât expect you to be as open about emotion as I am, or even able to feel things like I do (and Iâve been pretty dulled myself). maybe Iâve been reading you wrong at times; itâs hard to, especially through text. but I can hear it in your voice sometimes, I think. something flat. could be exhaustion, could be everything. of course I forgive your lacking in reciprocal effort; I appreciate all that you do give me. I know youâre trying, and youâre trying because you want to, not because you think I expect you to. itâs not easy. but you know as well as I do that shrugging everything off and staying in the emotionless void isnât healthy for you.
from what I can at least guess about you, youâre a genuinely kind and caring person who has had a lot of his emotional innocence, so to speak, torn from him. youâre right: your emotion isnât worthless. but thatâs something you have to internalize yourself. Iâve been in similar dark places, but I donât think itâs near to the degree you have. not that pain is a competition; itâs not. I just know that I canât fully understand the things youâve been feeling, or... not feeling. regardless, I know you know itâs not healthy and you want to move forward from it, and Iâm glad to be there for you while you work through it. thatâs a kindness I think anyone dealing with trauma deserves. I also very much appreciate that we can have both silly and serious conversations; even just following my blog you already know more about me than a lot of my irl friends. youâve become someone I also care very much about and I donât like seeing you in pain-- though of course itâs not my place to do more than I can, or more than you want me to. Iâd still like to be there for you regardless.Â
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anywho! travel plans. like I said, most of the issue is logistics. Iâm looking at potential flights and I think a reasonable roundtrip is about 9 days; including 2 for travel, thatâs a full week for adventuring. Iâm flexible, of course, but Iâm not the one with a job, lol. I donât know what airlines would be best (though I did just find a flight on Icelandair, one 55m stop in Keflavik, July 10-19, for $1100 roundtrip), so if you wanna help out with searching youâre more than welcome to take a look yourself. Iâd prefer shorter layovers if possible; none of those 27h total trips, lmao. nothingâs direct from Dulles unfortunately, but it is a major international hub, like JFK, so often Iâll be able to find flights to other major destinations from here. which is gr8, because itâs literally a 10-15 minute drive from my house. we have two other major airports here: Reagan national and BWI. personally I prefer Dulles because itâs closer, but if you can find a cheaper and/or direct flight out of the other ones, Iâll find a way to get there lol.
Iâm going to be in PA for farm jam from, likely, July 3-7th. Iâll have to see how I feel about what day Iâm coming home. I may or may not want to stay til the 8th. but anyway I donât want to leave on an international flight *too* soon after I get home. Iâll have to drive 4 hours home after spending 4 days camping in the woods on a farm, unpack from camping, and then pack again, and I only have so much energy. Iâve done it before (got back from Iceland and drove to PA the next morning), but itâs not terribly fun. I think if I can make myself come home on the 7th, or at least early on the 8th, I can leave the 10th at the earliest. Iâm going to look at July 10-19 as my reference, since thatâs also one of the cheapest roundtrips that I can find (for some reason wednesdays are cheaper traveling days?), but those days might change a little. Iâll let you know if I decide on something for sure, but if you want to look up Airbnbs (or if you can find cheaper flights, lmao), youâre welcome to use the 10-19th as a general reference point as well.
I have no qualms about Airbnbs. it would be easier booking-wise to get the flight and hotel together, but Iâm cool with having a little place out of the city for the week. the genuine experience, as you say, lol. the coast would be lovely, but Iâll take whatever you find that you like! Iâll leave that to your expertise. are we splitting the cost for that, or.. how do you want to do that?Â
as far as itinerary, Iâm down for everything. I got real excited about that owl sanctuary, lol. anything with animals is great with me. can we see highland cattle too?? I do know Iâm gonna want to check out one or two of the record stores in Glasgow; I think thatâs my new Travel Thing, lol. going to a city, checking out the record stores. gotta bring records home. thatâs my kinda souvenir. everything else, Iâm down for too! I love learning about history, seeing old churches and castles, historical sites, all that jazz. I love the sound of that island too! I totally get what you mean about not doing all the typically touristy stuff. I mean, I live just outside Washington DC. I know the tourist traps are a waste of time and money and theyâre not the ~real experience~. I love the sound of not taking the beaten path, though. and how often do you have a personal local tour guide? lmao
the only worries I have, really, are my energy levels and my traveling anxiety. neither of those are your responsibility, but they do affect me literally every time I travel, even if I think they wonât.
the anxiety has its roots in my emetophobia, for sure. for some reason my brain feels like the worst thing that could possibly happen is me getting sick while Iâm traveling, and then of course I get nervous about it, and what accompanies the nervousness? nausea. shit writes itself. I know it happens, Iâm very conscious of it, but that doesnât stop it. Iâll bring klonopin as a security blanket, likely wonât need it, but mostly what helps is just, like, making sure I eat something, lol. I donât tend to eat much when I travel anyway, but not eating tends to make the problem worse and I need something in my stomach, obviously. being distracted helps too. something to focus on, someplace to go or see. Iâll let you know how Iâm feeling, though, so donât worry about needing to check in on me. Iâm not a nervous wreck all the time.
then thereâs the energy levels. I have no earthly way of knowing what theyâre going to be like in July. right now I donât have much energy to do much of anything, but sometimes, especially if Iâm subconsciously nervous, I wonât have an off switch. and sometimes I say ânot a lot of energyâ but I push myself anyway and surprise myself. itâs incredibly hard to predict my day-to-day now, without the traveling nerves, and itâll be almost impossible to predict from now if something in my medical future changes. so, basically, itâs something to keep in mind but nothing to control for.
Iâm pretty low-energy in general, but I can walk a good bit, so donât worry about pushing me! Iâll let you know what I can handle. itâs probably safe to put one big thing in a day, 2-3 tops if they donât have much travel time between them. better to leave time open to fit in more things anyway than to over-book and not be able to get to them all. I never know what my sleepâs going to be like, but I can almost guarantee itâs going to be terrible. it usually is when I travel. this also isnât your responsibility, so donât let me wreck your sleep schedule for when you have to get back to work, lol. Iâm fine staying up late by myself if Iâve got wifi or if I bring a book or something; I canât expect you to have the same crazy erratic sleep schedule as traveling-me. Iâll let you know if something is or isnât okay, what Iâm up for, all that good stuff. so Iâd say definitely plan in all the stuff you want to do plus a few record shops, but leave some wiggle room for late starts, fitting more things in, or the possibility that I might not be able to get to everything in a day. not saying Iâll be struggling that hard, but wiggle room is always good so no one is disappointed lol
anyways I have no worries that itâll be a great trip đliterally everything you mentioned sounds wonderful, and Iâm already excited! I do worry slightly that we still barely know each other and have never spoken face to face, lol. but Iâm sure thatâll happen in due time before July. itâs one thing to meet an internet stranger in your city, but in another country? as a solo female traveler that does make me nervous. I like to think I have a pretty decent sense of the kind of person you are, but you really never know. itâll certainly help ease my mind to get to know you better over the course of the next few months.
also... I donât want to alarm you and Iâm probably not supposed to tell you at all, but Iâd rather be upfront about it. the background check Iâm currently undergoing for my [future] job requires me to inform them of every non-US citizen I have âclose and continuing contactâ with. you and I werenât talking yet when I filled out the background check form, but I do have to keep them updated or risk losing my chance at the job. they wonât do anything with the information I give them; everyone has friends and family in other countries, and the US doesnât have any beef with Scotland that Iâm aware of, lol. but I will need to give them basic information, especially if Iâm leaving the country to visit. I would have to do it even if I werenât planning on visiting and we kept talking, but this seems like an appropriate time to bring it up, lol. this is standard procedure for federal background checks here; literally everyone trying to get a cleared job has to do it. the form itself is open-source, the PDF is the top result on google, and I can send it to you so you can see exactly what they ask me to provide, if youâd like. Iâm not going to ask you for more information than what youâve given me, and they do take âI donât knowâ as an answer. if itâs not okay with you at all, though, then weâve got some major problems.
soooooo with that out of the way, lmao
if I think of anything else Iâm sure Iâll bring it up when I think of it. the only question I might have right now is what should I bring, besides the essentials? a book, maybe. a crochet thing? perhaps? laptop? (probably no on that one, though, right?) uhhhh power adapters? the electrical plugs are definitely different there, yeah? any american things I can pack into a suitcase that youâd like me to bring? lol
speaking of american things. Iâve already got a small list of little things I could pack into a box and ship out there and I think youâll like them!! how do you feel about sweets? Iâm not talking junk food per se, like all the ridiculous candies we have here. just sweet in general? and I know you said not spicy, but how about seasoning? what kinds of seasonings do you like and dislike?
Iâll start looking into flights more seriously soon, as long as youâre okay with the background thing. I canât give you too many details about all that, mostly because I donât have them, but we can absolutely talk about it if itâs a concern.Â
so, yes. let me know when you have time to talk and we can start planning đ
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