#this has been half finished in my drafts since april so... enjoy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

abrcmswrld · 2 years ago

Text

Pigeon

Jay | Okja x Reader

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Word Count: 5,358

Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), mentions of animal abuse, violence, slight angst just cause pining ya know

Summary: Reader makes a mistake on a mission, prompting a series of events that would only bring them and Jay closer.

Authors Note: I love Jay with everything in my being, so I had to finish this. It has sat half finished in my drafts since April of 2022. I am delighted to have finished it FINALLY. I hope you enjoy!

Ao3 Link

"You could've been killed!" He is pacing the room, eyes never meeting yours. You've never seen him in this manner, panicked and uneasy. Jay was always the mellow one, the one who kept it together even when punishing members for their ignorance, and yet he has dragged you into the privacy of his bedroom to lecture you frantically.

"Jay, I am fine! Nobody else was hurt and bruises heal." Nervous giggles are slipping out between words. You're torn between the anxiety that comes with his erratic behavior and the urge to laugh in his face at the attitude he is giving you over a matter that otherwise seems minor in comparison to what could have happened. He stops his pacing and sets a fiery gaze onto you. It causes you to stumble over your words for a moment, but quickly fills you with anger at the fact that he was treating you like a helpless child.

"I am not your child. You're being ridiculous!"

"You failed to follow the mission that was planned for you and you got hurt. Your blatant defiance could've gotten yourself or others killed." You can tell he is trying to keep his usual composure and by the book language, but the nerves and anger are slipping through the cracks in his tone.

You scoff. "Jay, I knew what I was signing up for when I joined the group. Things won't always go according to plan."

"You're supposed to follow the mission exactly how we planned that way things are within our control and nobody gets hurt! What don't you understand about that? I mean you do you think that your teammates signed up to get killed because you didn't think the plan was enough? If something more would've happened that would've been on you!" He's red in the face, but you see the pang of regret that washes over his face as the words leave his mouth. His gaze falls to the floor, dark strands of hair falling into his face. He shuts his eyes and sighs. Your heart falls to your stomach.

"You know what, I don't have to sit here and listen to you lecture me. If you want me gone then just tell me that. Dismiss Me. I don't care, Jay."

You nudge his shoulder as you push past him, only to be caught by his hand grabbing your wrist. The flames of anger begin to rise more and you instinctively jerk out of his grip, meeting his eyes once more. They have softened from their harsh gaze moments before. He's turned around and stepped closer to you, practically towering over you. "I don't want you to leave. I'm sorry." He sighs.

"I just care about your safety."

You swallow hard, taking in his words. Vulnerable. For once an encounter with Jay felt vulnerable, and the feeling is addicting. The tension in the room is so tight it feels like it could snap at any moment. You're not sure if its an awkward tension that naturally arises after a typical fight or if it has something to do with the feeling of electricity in your chest that you're trying so damn hard to ignore. His hand lightly lands on the side of your arm, and- fuck- the electricity is starting to burn. Your eyes travel over his face, but quickly move back to his eyes.

"I appreciate that."

You pull away from his grasp and close the door behind you as you walk out.

It had been a tense few days to say the least. Struck by one of those missions that took time, aching long days, for updates. The group scrambled to find distractions from the stress and worry. Red had suggested nightly games of cards to try to take off some of the edge that came with the jobs.

So it became a routine for the coming days. The group would gather around a small table in a cramped living room of the Airbnb that Jay had arranged for everyone to stay in. Jay would join the game for about ten minutes each night, trying to be the strong and relaxed leader for his crew. Yet, each night he would quickly slip away into his room after the first couple of rounds. Tonight he had left the table early on stating that he was tired. You watched as he made his way to his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Tired. Everyone is tired. You cleared your throat before standing. "Alright guys, I think I'm gonna run to the restroom. Start the next round without me." You walked to the end of the hallway where Jay's door and the bathroom door faced each other. You could see that his door was not fully shut, only cracked, and light still shined through the cracks.

You stepped towards his door, laying a single hand on the knob before hesitating. Maybe you shouldn't.

Was he still mad at you? Would he be even more mad if you had entered his space uninvited? Why did you even feel the urge to enter anyway?

Fuck it. The most he could do was lecture you as he had a few days prior. Or dismiss you from the group. You'd take your chances. Despite your hesitation you push the door open only enough to peek inside. He's facing away from the doorway sitting at a desk. You choose to knock on the doorframe, alerting him of your presence. He quickly turns his chair to see who was there before waving for you to enter.

"Hey." You're stood awkwardly, waiting for a reply from him. He closes the laptop he had been focused on before you entered. "Hi. Do you need something?" You shift your weight from one foot to the other. "No. I just- Uh, you just said you were tired, but you're not in bed." You internally scold yourself for stumbling on your words so terribly. He cocks his head in confusion.

"I know it's been a rough week. I guess I shouldn't really question why you're not in bed. It's been pretty hard for me to sleep too." You're not lying. You'd laid in bed every night wishing, praying to a god you weren't even sure you believed in, that you could just get a night of good sleep. Your prayers hadn't been answered. He simply nods. Suddenly the air is thick and uncomfortable. It seems like he is just waiting for you to leave. Maybe you should. Why haven't you?

"Are you still pissed at me?"

He sighs and stands from his chair. "No." Then he's closing the distance between the two of you. Your heart is racing. But he simply reaches behind you. "Do you mind if I-" You realize he is trying to shut the door that you had left ajar. "Oh! Yeah. Sorry." Your face is burning. There's no doubt he can see the way the blood has rushed to your face. You shift to the side slightly, allowing him access to the door. "I just don't like for the others to hear these sorts of conversations if I can help it." You shyly nod. He gives a small smile and you feel the way the gesture makes your body feel loosened.

"I'm sorry for the way that I acted a couple of days ago. I shouldn't have let myself get that worked up. It's my responsibility as a leader to keep it together for you guys and I failed that night." It feels good to hear the apology from him. Sure your feelings were hurt. Hurt in the same way it hurts for a parental figure to point out that they are disappointed, not mad. But deep down you knew he meant well, and it felt wrong to leave him to be the only one apologizing. "I'm sorry too. It's also your job as a leader to hold us accountable, so I understand. I didn't mean to act stupid." He smiles. "I suppose there's no way of taking it back for either of us now, so lets call it even." It makes you chuckle. "Thanks."

An awkward silence fills the room before you speak up. "How are you holding up? I mean- It's just been pretty rough for everyone I guess." He places a hand on your shoulder. "I am holding up, and I don't want you up worrying about me. You should get some rest, or at least attempt to have a good time with the others out there." You shook your head. "Cards aren't really my thing. And sleeping hasn't been that great lately either." You meet his slightly concerned gaze. "Talking to you kind of sounds like the best option for me here." You chuckle and shake your head, immediately embarrassed at the words that had just come out of your mouth. Why did you just say that? It must be obvious as he tips your head back up to face him with two fingers under your chin. "It's okay. We can talk." Damn it. That spark in your chest is back.

He is leaning over you so close. Though the fingers have left their place under your chin, you feel your skin burn where they once were. You can smell his cologne so strongly when you're this close. You never really noticed before, then again you kept your distance on purpose. He's your superior. You probably shouldn't be doing this. You can't help but embrace him.

Your face is pressed into his chest. His arms hesitate for a moment before finding their place on your back. The feeling you get is so bittersweet. You've never properly hugged Jay, and you doubt any of the others had either. He's naturally reserved person. In this moment you want nothing more than to peel back his layers. To know what he thinks when he's alone with his thoughts. To know what he thinks when he's alone with you.

You pull away from his embrace, but keep your body pressed close to his. You meet his gaze. He staring down at you, quiet. Neither of you say a word. Your hands have found their way to the back of his neck, twiddling the hairs that curl onto it. Your lips are so close. You can feel his breath on your face. Every part of your brain is yelling at you to stop the interaction. Jay would for sure call it inappropriate. But you found yourself listening to the burning in your heart and stomach as you close the gap between your lips.

It's chaste. You pull back slowly looking at his expression to gage what should happen next. His eyes are half lidded and his mouth sits slightly agape. You feel a sort of fear settle in the pit of your stomach as he does and says nothing. Had you crossed a line that never should've been crossed? But you're swiftly pulled out of the fog of worry by his lips meeting yours once again. He's pressing you closer with a hand on the middle of your back.

You feel like you’re high. Something about the swipe of his tongue across yours is incredibly intoxicating. He tastes oddly sweet. You can't help but feel the urge to taste other parts of him. Suddenly he's walking you backwards until the backs of your legs hit the desk he was previously sat at. It's effortless as he hoists you to sit atop the surface of the desk. He pulls away long enough to meet your eyes. You've seen his eyes when he is relaxed and soft. You've also seen his eyes when he is angry and provoked, but this look is new. It only lasts a split second, but you can see the lust practically dripping from his eyes. It's almost like looking at a wild, hungry animal, starved for food so long that they are willing to do anything for it. It makes the blood pool into your lower half.

The feeling of his teeth grazing your neck is enough to knock a pitiful moan from your throat. You've thrown your head back, hoping to give him more access. You can't help but tangle your fingers into his dark locks, occasionally pulling to hear a low groan from him. His fingers are slowly traveling up your thighs and you're getting antsy. You're so caught up, the only thing on your mind is Jay and the word 'more.' God you need more more more. His hand slides up your thigh and you're a goner when the heel of his palm digs into your core. Your mouth is pressed just next to his ear. You must sound pathetic as you whine his name.

The sound of footsteps down the hall pulls the two of you from the haze. Jay's hands are off of you in a flash as he jumps back, putting significant space between the two of you. You're both practically panting. The only sound in the room is your breathing. The footsteps must have led to the bathroom across the hall, as Jay's room is left unbothered. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a sigh of exasperation. "Um... I'm sorry. That was..." You trail off.

You hop off the desk and walk past him, laying a hand on the doorknob.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

You walk out of his room and straight to your own. Red eyes you as you walk quickly past the card table. You're sure you'd hear about it later. You immediately shut the door behind you and take a seat on the floor in front of it.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?

Just as you expected, Red is curious the next day.

"Are you okay?"

You're finding it hard to focus on anything. Which is never good in times like the present. You had a job to do and Jay was your leader. It was an inappropriate situation, but what bugged you the most was how seemingly focused and normal Jay had been acting. You turn your attention to Red. "I'm fine. Just watched a video of kitten being used as dog fight bait the other night, how could I not be?" She rolls her eyes. "You never came back last night, and then when you did you looked spooked."

You sigh. Geez...were you that obvious? "I had to talk to Jay about the mission situation, and it's just not particularly easy to talk to him. You know that." She hesitates for a moment as if thinking of what to say. "But you're okay? I'm not gonna have to watch him beat you up too?" You can't help but laugh a little at her comment. K certainly wouldn't approve, but what he didn't know wouldn't kill him. "Everything is fine, Red."

You only lied a little. But it's not like she's never lied to you. Your gaze falls to Jay for a moment. He's dressed more casual than usual, slacks and a white t-shirt. It's nice to see him relaxed.

He's explaining something to Blonde. Something about pinpointing a location. He's pointing out something on paper, maybe a map. As if it's some sick intrusive thought, you think about where his hands had been the previous night. You can still feel the burn of his hand making its way up your thigh. He starts to look up at you. You quickly pull your eyes off of him and turn to busy yourself with something, anything. You're fucked.

You find yourself at Jay's door once again. Blonde had successfully got an update from an insider about the dog fighting ring the group had been watching. The group was set to deploy a rescue mission in the coming days. Who knows what could happen? Ideally everything goes exactly according to the plan. Some animals are rescued, the entire crew makes it out, and nobody is seriously injured. But it's your first mission after the incident that caused Jay's initial lecture, and you've found yourself a little nervous to be back in action.

You weren't getting any sleep at the moment. You'd all gone to bed early in hopes of being well rested, but instead you had laid in bed for a little over an hour with no sign of sleep in the near future. So you made your way to Jay. You'd be lying if you said that he had nothing to do with the reason you were losing sleep. The thought of his lips on yours is sweet but startling. You knock on his door before entering.

For once Jay is sitting in bed. He's awake. You knew he would be, because you know Jay. Even as he keeps his distance from everyone, you catch yourself picking up on his quirks over time. He's changed out of his slacks and now sports some tattered pajama pants. It's different and cute. You slowly shut the door behind you.

"Can't sleep?"

You take a seat on the edge of the bed. "I guess you could say the nerves are getting to me." He hesitates for a second. "But I am supposed to step up as your leader and encourage you. Everything will be fine. We have tackled much bigger things." You sigh. You hated knowing that you're the one causing the nerves tonight. It's never easy getting back into the swing of things after a failed mission, but being the one who caused the failure feels even worse. He's doing what he always does. He's putting his job above how he really feels, he never lets himself feel anything. If he's nervous he will tell the group that he's never been more confident. But you knew better.

"You don't always have to hide the way that you feel. It's okay to be nervous, Jay."

You lay a hand on his arm, much like he had done to you when he apologized for his anger. He's being distant. He almost looks worried to have your hand on his arm. You slowly withdraw. Maybe it was time to pretend about your own feelings. Hypocrite.

"You know- if you're feeling weird about the kiss it's okay. It was my choice and I'm sorry. It was probably way out of line-" He cuts you off. "It was." Although his tone isn't harsh, his words still sting. So he really had regretted it. You stepped over the line. Sure he participated but if you hadn't have started it-

"But I feel good when I think about it."

You can't stop staring at him. Frozen. "What?" He shrugs. "It felt good not to have to be Jay the leader and just be Jay. To do stuff I wanted to do without having to think about the consequences." The words light a small fire inside you for some reason. This is the most honest Jay has ever been with you. It's raw and it's nice. "I'm glad I could help... ease your mind."

He smiles softly and lays a hand on your lower leg that you've pulled up onto the bed. "I'm really nervous about tomorrow, Jay. I know you just said it was nice to not be a leader but I have to let you know I feel uneasy. I don't even know if I'm saying that because I'm looking for advice-" You look up at him. "-I think I just feel oddly comforted by your presence."

He scoots closer to you, legs crossed like a child. You can't help but smile. It's so unlike Jay. Jay was serious, classy, guarded. This side of Jay was open and comforting. He grabs your hand, seemingly in an effort to bring you some sense of feeling grounded. "It will work out. I promise."

There's more to be said. The fear in you rises as you face him. His hair is slightly disheveled. It reminds you of the way it looked after you had jumped apart. Messy from your fingers. Your heart is beating so fast. Why did you want to kiss him so bad? Why did he kiss you back? Did he pity you? Would these feelings ruin the mission? Would these feelings ruin your friendship with Jay? Would these feelings ruin you?

You brush a strand of hair off his forehead and sigh. "I think I am afraid of myself. Of this. I don't regret the kiss and, damn it, I think I want to kiss you again, Jay. And that makes me so scared-" You're stunned by two hands cupping the sides of your face. You can only stare, mouth open a bit in shock. He only stares back, not making a move, as if he tossing thoughts around in his head, weighing his options.

His lips are warm and familiar against yours. The butterflies in your stomach almost make you feel sick, but you compose yourself enough to put one hand on his face and one hand on his shoulder. It doesn't feel like it did that previous night. That night had been pure fire and burning lust. The fire has turned into something blossoming in your stomach and up into your lungs. He pulls away, smiling genuinely. "You can stay in here tonight if it'll calm your nerves. We can talk more when we finish what needs to be done."

The ride in the truck to your destination was tense. You look out the window to see nothing by gravel road and trees. Much to Blonde’s dismay you had questioned whether he had the right location at least 5 times, all of which he had responded with a short “I know what I’m doing, Sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes.

You can’t stop the constant bouncing of your leg. You have to do anything to fill the void where your thoughts could leak in. It made you physically ill to think anymore about the possibilities of what could happen in the next hour. You can see Jay in the front seat next to K, who was driving. The sunlight bounced through the trees and hit his face perfectly. Thinking about the night before was the only thing bringing you any peace at all in your current situation.

His body pressed up against yours. Arm swung over your waist. You had actually gotten some decent sleep. It is still dark in the room, obviously still a few hours out from when you need to be up. You twist your body to face Jay. He’s still asleep, face peacefully relaxed. No furrowed brows or wrinkled skin. He is perfect you think as you brush his hair hair back lightly.

“This is it.” You’re pulled from the memory by Blonde’s voice. As the doors open, there’s…nothing. Just the same trees and dirt road as there was before. “Are you sure this is it? There’s nothing here.” Red questions as soon as her feet hit the dirt ground. “We’ve gotta go through the trees a little ways that way, but we have to stop the truck here or they’ll know we are on ‘em.” Blonde points a finger out into the vast woods.

You lock eyes with Jay. He just nods and steps in front of the group with Blonde as a guide. The woods are damp and humid. It’s not a pleasant trek, but you had definitely experienced worse in your year on the team. It’s quiet, eerily quiet. Just the rustling of your feet against the grass. Until you see it. The barbed wire fence is clear in the distance. You can hear the barking dogs and rustling chain. Jay stops and turns to the group.

“These dogs are trained to fight through drugs and other means. They can be dangerous. Just be careful and follow the plan.”

Your heart hurts at his words as they are a reminder of your fuck up but you don’t have time to dwell on it much as you hear the rustling of grass not far from you and see the flash of a human figure to your left. Fuck. It’s only two men, but they are very clearly armed with deadly weapons. Jay turns to face them, bold and brave as always. “Listen, we are-“

“We don’t care who you are, you’re trespassing.”

Jay stays silent only for a moment, holding his hands out in front of him in a sign of peace, before speaking softly, “Red, go.” And with that Red is zipping past the men and jumping the fence. Blonde and Silver are easily able to take down one of the men, leaving the other to go for Jay who is standing directly in front of him. You can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as Jay is knocked to the ground. You hesitate before deciding to engage.

Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up.

You’re able to the man off guard for only a split second before the man throws his elbow back. And suddenly everything is black.

There’s a slight ringing in your ears the next time you open your eyes, but you can tell that someone is carrying you. You let yourself slip out of consciousness once more.

“Can you hear me? Open your eyes!”

You can hear the voice before you open your eyes, and suddenly you’re taken back to New York.

Your heart is beating out of your chest. You’re watching from the van as Jay is ambushed by the Black Chalk. You’re trying not to hyperventilate and pass out. Of all the missions that have ended with law enforcement intervention, you have never seen one end this poorly.

Jay is knocked to the ground and you can see the little bits of blood seeping through his white shirt and dripping from his head. They are unrelenting, like a hoard of crows circling and gathering around a dead animal. You try to shake that thought from your head.

“K… K! We have to do something! We have to do something right now, they are gonna kill him!”

And for a moment it feels like you’ve blacked out, but you can remember what you are doing. You’ve just placed your self on autopilot. You’ve tuned out everyone as soon as Jay’s back hit the floor of the truck’s trailer. You’re climbing over him and immediately work at the buttons on his soiled shirt. You don’t even realize that there are tears flowing from your eyes until you start to see the small damp spots begin to leave marks next to the blood that has already stained.

You cradle his head, not caring about the blood that is seeping under your fingernails. “Jay, can you look at me?” His eyes are still closed but you swear you can see a small flutter of his lashes. “Can you hear me? Please open your eyes.” His eyes slowly peel open. He’s looking directly at you and you’ve never felt more relief in your entire life. You gently lay your forehead on his chest.

“Thank God.”

You open your eyes. You can tell you’re in the back of the van. You practically shoot up and that’s when the pain sets in. You hold the side of your head. “Ah shit.”

“You can lay back down.” You turn your head to see Jay at your side. He’s got a scrape on his cheek, but otherwise looks to be intact. You sigh. “Are you okay?” He smiles and nods. You don’t lay down, but turn to face him fully. “Did I fuck it up again?” He places a hand on your shoulder and shakes his head.

“Red got the evidence we needed, and everyone made it out. You got hit pretty hard. You probably have a concussion, so I’ll be be staying with you these next couple of nights.”

You immediately glance forwards at Red who is raising an eyebrow from the front seat. Your cheeks burn as you lay your head back in Jay’s lap for the remainder of the ride home.

Jay does as he said he would and stays with you in the nights. You’ve slept in his bed for the past four nights. Though you realize that it has probably been long enough that you could move back into your room, you don’t want to stop. Jay’s warmth at night has you sleeping better than you have in years. So here you are on your fifth night in Jay’s bed, watching as he strips down to his boxers and climbs into bed with you. It’s starting to feel very domestic the way he bares his skin to you even though you’ve never actually had sex. It still brings a flutter to your abdomen. But in a way you start to feel like you’re taking advantage of him.

“You don’t have to take care of me anymore. I think I’ll be fine on my own.”

He looks at you for a moment, slightly concerned. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” You shake your head. “No, it’s not that, I just feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” He smiles and places a hand on your jaw. “I enjoy your company. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t got used to you being here every night.” He kisses you for the first time since the night before you’d gotten hurt, and you immediately melt into it. You missed the feeling it gives you. He breaks apart from you just to say, “Why don’t you just stay with me all of the time?” It lights a fire in your stomach.

Before you can stop to think, you are moving to straddle his hips. He gasps slightly, you’ve always been the inferior, he’s always been the one in charge, but you’re the one towering over him now. “I want you.” You can feel the way that his hip buck slightly at your words. “And I’m not just talking about sex. I’m talking about everyday, all of the time.” He just stares up at you, letting you speak.

“You can be the boss during the day, but I want you to come home and just be you at the end of the day.” You roll your hips. “Not Jay the leader or boss or organizer or anything like that. Just Jay.” He looks in absolute awe, a look you’ve never seen from him. For once, he has nothing to say, just slips a hand past your waistband and applies delicious pressure to your core. You swallow the moan that forms in your throat. The last thing you need is to have Red or Silver prying into your sex life in the morning, especially when Jay is involved.

“And if I wanna be the boss at night?” He says it teasingly, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Okay fine, but only sometimes.” You wrap a hand around him under his boxers and he groans. It feels good to be this intimate with someone, especially Jay. So you let yourself go, match his pace, and don’t stop until you’re both soaring over the edge, foreheads pressed together.

You take time to clean each other up and get comfortable back in bed before anyone can ask any questions about what you may have been doing. You lay your head on his chest. You’re so relaxed and everything feels so right for once in your life.

“I thought I was gonna lose you in New York.” It’s random, but the entire experience in the past week sent you soaring back into that headspace. “K probably thought I was crazy or hysterical. I’d never seen you so hurt, and I thought that was it. I think that’s when I knew.” He hugs you closer and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I remember you holding the back of my head, I thought that I was dead. I don’t even really know what I believe happens after death, I guess I was just relieved that wherever I was at the time, you were there.”

You smile, content, and throw an arm over his waist.

“Glad we both made it.”

#jay okja #jay okja x reader #paul dano #okja 2017 #okja #paul dano okja #danonation #jay okja smut #jay okja angst #jay okja fluff

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busaikuknee · 7 months ago

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a quick look back at march and april 2024

i didn't initially intend to combine these into a single post, but "me remembering write my march post" coincided with "me being busy with work and watching mania weekend shows," so i figured it'd be best to wait until all that was done with so there would be plenty to sift through. with that established, let's get started!

general overview and numbers

ended up catching 131 matches during these past two months (51 in march, 80 in april), which is quite a lot for me! despite this, i still feel woefully behind on everything; i've been trying to keep up with a lot, but i don't enjoy half-watching things and i only have so much brainspace for wrestling. as a result, it's been a breadth-not-depth kind of spring.

tjpw came in second for "promotions i caught the most of," which i'm hoping to continue! most of my prior teej viewing has been of isolated individual matches, so it's been nice getting a more holistic view of the promotion. first place was noah—those monday magic shows scratch some kind of itch for me, even if a lot of the cards aren't that different from your normal sunny voyage fare

most appearances throughout the month(s)

if you're exclusively counting matches that occurred in the last two months, yuma anzai comes in at #1 with 6 appearances—i've been trying to keep up with his champion carnival run, with the keyword being "try" since i'm terrible at watching tournaments. expanding that to matches that were viewed during the past few months, katsuhiko nakajima's at #1 at 12 appearances, making him the Spreadsheet Champ of the Month(s). check out his match vs daiki inaba and the preview tag before it from his wrestle-1 run, they're fun.

anyway, there doesn't seem to be an up-to-date fullbody render for him and i'm not grabbing a screenshot just for my dumb photoshop bit, so simply imagine it in your mind's eye.

speaking of anzai and nakajima,

the part where i mumble about matches in no particular order

yuma anzai vs katsuhiko nakajima (ajpw, march 30th)

i have a habit of pausing matches to go and take a break less than a minute before the ending. just poor timing on my part. paused this match about 15 seconds before the finish, got up to walk around and stretch, and mentally drafted a whole thing about how, even though anzai definitely wasn't going to win, this was a great showing from him and did a good job making the case for him as a future triple crown champ. then i unpaused and watched those fifteen seconds. immediate egg on my face. i'm pretty excited for anzai, though! it's nice seeing promotions really get behind their young talent.

hype!2 (tjpw, april 19th)

i'm putting the whole show down, seeing as there's only one "traditional" wrestling match and it would feel strange to excise it from the whole performance. i loved the first hype and was looking forward to this; while i think you can feel that a lot of the show had to be changed last-minute in the final product, i still had a pretty good time with it. i'm very fond of wrestling shows that skew closer to being plays, they're something i want to dig further into when time allows.

athena vs hikaru shida (roh, april 5th)

while i enjoyed keeping up with mania weekend, having that much wrestling shoved into my brain in such a short time period meant that most of the matches have melted together in my memory. this one is one of the few that stand out. incredible work from two stellar performers. i don't like rewatching things often, but i'm due for a rewatch.

yamato vs mike santana (etu/dragongate, april 6th)

one of the other mania standouts for me. i don't have much to say about it—i don't think it's anything crazy—but it ended up really working for me

shunma katsumata vs hideki okatani (ddt, march 16th)

violent, emotional affair. thoroughly enjoyed the last-minute-high-school-production-of-tarzan levels of set dressing. i think shunma and okatani are kind of a golden combo—i so desperately wish that they could have a singles match without one of them getting injured. at least i'll always have the image of the plush snake wrapped in barbed wire

hub vs ryuya matsufusa (osaka pro, april 14th) and ryu fuda vs masaaki mochizuki (dragongate, march 6th)

i decided to fold these two together, seeing as they're both young guy vs veteran matches where i went in knowing little-to-nothing about said young guys (i only knew matsufusa by name beforehand and i believe fuda's been injured for most of my dragongate viewing) and came out caring a lot about them. while i can be a little take-it-or-leave-it about english commentary depending on the promotion, jae does an excellent job breaking down who fuda is, what his struggles have been, and how said struggles play into this particular matchup. good stuff. i went into the hub vs matsufusa match with almost no context and still enjoyed it, but digging around afterwards and learning a bit about matsufusa's history with hub and osaka pro as a whole really added to the experience. [guy who needs to cut down on how many promotions he watches voice] maybe i should watch more osaka pro

i'm pretty sure these posts are just me yelling into the void, but if you read this, let me know if there are any matches you particularly enjoyed from this spring! see you next month.

#statsposting

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geek-fashionista · 4 years ago

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789

I took a break from Tumblr (and Instagram) starting on Ash Wednesday so I could get my novel draft finished. Now that I’m back, I feel like I want to keep my visits to the weekends. Social media can be a huge distraction for me! But I still enjoy my pretty little corner of the internet.

Life Updates:

My responsibilities at work increased exponentially. On top of scheduled subbing days, I was support staff for sixth grade’s graduation ceremony, subbing half classes while the teachers observed their new students, tutoring a child coming into the program, and I’m expected to help with big cleaning projects around campus before the break.

I’ve also signed on to teach high school next year! It’s only two nights a week, around an hour and a half, and everyone who does it enjoys it. Since I’m just a substitute, I don’t have to worry about writing lesson plans for elementary school, which frees me up to focus all my energy on the two high school lesson plans.

(This means more money on top of an already nice raise. Aaaaww yis.)

COVID cases are down by a lot in Japan, enough that Kyoto has been taken off the Do Not Travel list. HMMMM...

S i n n o h C o n f i r m e d

I should have feedback on my novel draft by the end of the month. Starting in April, I’ll be editing until it’s ready to send out to agents, so in the meantime I’ll be giving my hands some much needed rest.

Things are busy, busy, busy as we approach the end of a very odd school year. But I’m looking forward to Year 3 of my Adventure in Japan. With some degree of anticipation and uncertainty, sure, but with the assurance that God is still at work in my life.

I hope you’re all doing well!

#life #text

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polandspringz · 4 years ago

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Fanfic/Writing Updates!

I know I just put this in a mess of tags on my last post, but just an update for my readers:

Sorry for the delay in updating fics/writing stories! I was dying towards the second half of my semester so I didn’t have time to much other than some one-shots. Right now though, I’ve kicked it into high gear, lol. So here is what I can currently promise you to look forward to.

Obey Me

You Don’t Really Wanna Stay (Sequel to “Cause You Don’t Really Wanna Go”, now known as the Hot n’ Cold series): Chapter 2 has been finished since mid-April. I haven’t published it because I sort of screwed myself going off script and publishing chapter 1 before I wrote the entire fic (unlike how with CYDRWG, I wrote the entire thing in one week and then published it over a few days/like a week). I’ve had the entire story outlined in this case, but it was just a matter of writing it. Chapter 3 is also finished now, so I will be working over the next few days to finish Chapters 4 and 5 before I start publishing the rest of the work on a schedule. This was a story that was originally only meant to be 2 chapters, but as you can see, things have expanded. An epilogue may or may not be written later on (similar to the Mammon fic as well). I may or may not have plans for a third fic in this series.

Siberia: This story has had the entire plot and every detail outlined since I started writing it last fall. Again, it’s just a matter of writing it all together into a long chapter with scenes instead of plot points and summaries of events on a notebook page. Once the above fic is finished being written, I will immediately resume work on Chapter 8 of Siberia, and similarly, will try and get through 2-3 chapters before I start publishing again. At the earliest, I can guarantee an update by the end of May or June. I’m hoping to get ahead in my writing to help me out later on.

Designing in the Devildom (Series): There are SO many one-shots planned for this series still. I originally planned on having a loose chronological order for them, but as some of you may have seen, we’ve kind of deviated a bit. I have several documents with drafts for various stories that have been in the works for months, but am putting this series as less of a priority compared to the above works. I received an ask suggesting I continue the “M’Lady” fic with a follow-up of the actual fashion show the demons would participate in, and have drafted sketches of each outfit the characters would model, which I would like to publish alongside the work, so that is one of the projects that is taking some time.

gen:LOCK

I have so many stories still planned for gen:LOCK, and as I work on my other fandoms, I find myself itching to get back to this fandom that I love so much. I don’t want to give a lot away, but I have at least 3 ideas revolving around Yaz and 1 idea focused on the gen:LOCK team as a whole. They aren’t short one-shots or drabbles, so I ask you to be patient and promise by the end of the summer you will see something from me soon.

Cars gL AU: Believe it or not, I did plan a sequel to that joke fic. The idea came about after I wrote the ending to the story, and the response from the actual Cars fandom was so nice, it really made me want to write a follow up. It will be significantly shorter, but I hope everyone will enjoy it as well.

Miscellaneous

Omori: I have plans for a multi-chapter AU that if I nail it the way I want to, well it might not do anything but be self-indulgent for me, but I think it might obliterare the fandom (as I joke to my friend often). I won’t be working on this story until I finish Siberia, as there is a similarity between them and I wish to give each their proper attention.

SK8: I hate Adam but I love writing for Adam and Tadashi. I had another story idea floating around in my head but no concrete notes on it, so I can’t guarantee when this will be written, but know there are plans for it.

FF9: I’ve been promising my sister an FF9 fic for about 2 years now. I had an idea after beating the game but forgot half the location names in the game, and that’s what’s been holding me back. I planned for it to be more long winded and descriptive, but might go a more straight to the point approach. I’m hoping to try and finally sit down and write it before May 31st.

Genshin Impact: I have notes in my fanfic writing journal for a Xiao fic and a Dainsleif fic. Writing for Genshin Impact feels very volatile though and as much as I appreciated the response on my Albedo fic months ago, I cannot guarantee I’ll ever get around to these, lol.

Yu Yu Hakusho: ON GOD IVE GOT NO IDEAS FOR THIS YET BUT I DO HAVE THE DESIRE TO MAKE SOMETHING GOOD BECAUSE I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH. SO SOMETHING WILL COME OUT OF THIS BRAIN OF MINE

Demon Slayer: SAME THING I AM DETERMINED TO DO SOMETHING, DONT KNOW WHAT YET

#my writing #writing #poland's thoughts #obey me #gen:lock #gen lock #genlock #sk8 #ff9 #genshin impact #yyh #yu yu hakusho #demon slayer

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chilling-seavey · 4 years ago

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Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter One

A/N Hey there, ladies and gents! It’s time to be swept away into an alternate universe where 1950s LA is the place to be. This is my first ever soulmate au and it took a lot of planning to make everything fit just right so I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: It’s 1958 and summer has just begun, sending the teenagers of Los Angeles into warm weather freedoms and part time jobs. Eighteen-year-old Daniel finds himself spending his days trying to find his soulmate and he refuses to give up until he has her.

Los Angeles in 1958 was a thriving city of luxury and fame; housing many of the greats and certainly more to come in upscale Beverly Hills mansions with top dollar views. They lived in their own worlds in the coastal city; unbothered by the working class with 9-5 jobs and single-family bungalows in the suburbs. To the everyday person, life in Los Angeles was more than nice with the beach on one side, the mountains on the other, and enough cultural entertainment to hardly ever be bored. People were happy you could argue and, in a sense that was true. Happy that they were able to settle down in that warm American Dream with the one they were destined to be with. Their soulmate.

This wasn’t a world full of lonesome heartbreak – unless one would choose to live that way – as everyone was assigned someone that they were meant to be with. By their eighteenth birthday, strange habits started to arise where you could taste whatever your soulmate was eating at any given time. It started faintly the day of your eighteenth birthday, as just a light sensation on your tongue, sort of like what it feels like to have a craving for a specific type of food. As weeks progressed it became more pronounced until after a month or so you could taste nearly exactly what they were eating as if you were eating it yourself.

It was something to get used to at first, but it was reality, and everyone went about their day to day lives with this invisible connection to the one they were destined to be with. Some people never found their soulmate – after all, the world had a population of almost three billion, so the odds weren’t always on your side – but eighteen-year-old Daniel refused to let that be his fate.

The second the clock hit midnight on April 2nd, 1958, Daniel shut his eyes really tightly in his bed and swirled his tongue around his mouth to try and taste something. You see, he was in love with the idea of love for as long as he could remember, and he had been counting down the days until he turned eighteen since he was old enough to know what numbers were. His parents had that perfect love story; high school sweethearts in 1935 where his father knew she was the one from the first week he turned eighteen, married and expecting their first child by 1936 and had three boys with a baby girl on the way before his father was drafted into the war in 1942. His father returned home in 1945 just as in love with his mother than ever before and the rest was history. Daniel wanted a story just like his parents; one where it all just fell into place.

The two-and-a-half months from the day Daniel turned eighteen to his high school graduation gave him absolutely no clue as to who his soulmate was. He tried scrounging the cafeteria at lunch time to see if any of the girls were eating that turkey sandwich he could taste or drinking that cold bottle of Coca-Cola, but he was met with no luck again and again. His soulmate seemed to eat something different everyday for each meal, but he soon came to realize that the only consistent thing was strawberry milkshakes. Usually around the time Daniel got off the school bus at home he’d lick his lips with the sweet flavour of strawberry and whipped cream that was rolling its way along his tongue.

He was just glad it wasn’t chocolate. He hated chocolate.

On the first real day of summer vacation, after graduation and their final high school dance, Daniel was staring out his bedroom window towards the street, impatiently waiting to see his older brother’s shiny red Thunderbird turning onto their street. Sure enough, he got a glimpse of the shiny red sports car in the distance and with an excited gasp, Daniel took off for the stairs.

“Christian’s home!” he shouted through the house, hopping the last three stairs and whipped open the front door just as the car pulled into the driveway.

He jumped off the porch as his parents came out of the house behind him and Daniel rushed to set his hands on the pretty red hood of the car that was still warm from the long drive from upstate.

The tired nineteen-year-old stepped out from the driver’s side and pulled off his sunglasses to offer a dimpled smile to his family, “Hey, you guys. What’s shaking?”

“Christian! How was college?” Daniel asked with a grin.

“Just swell, little brother. Why don’t you come help me bring my things upstairs? I have something for you.”

Daniel absolutely idolized his older brother, so he didn’t need to be asked twice to carry his things. As Christian headed for the porch to greet his mother with a kiss to her cheek and his father with a handshake, Daniel opened the trunk of the car to unload the bags. Out of the four Seavey children, Christian and Daniel were closest in age; Christian was only four months old when their parents fell pregnant with Daniel; leaving the two boys at only thirteen months apart. This made them very close and they shared a bedroom up until their oldest brother Tyler moved out for college a few years before. It was safe to say that when Christian was next to leave for school, Daniel had a hard time adjusting to life in the house without him.

But he was finally back, dressed in his usual slicked back dark brown hair and finished with a leather jacket. Leather was never usually Christian’s choice and Daniel let his eyes linger on the back of his brother’s jacket as he helped him carry his things upstairs to his room.

Christian stopped in the doorway to the left at the top of the stairs, poking his head into the light pink painted room, “Hey, ankle biter, I’m back. Did ya miss me?”

Their younger sister, Anna - a moody force to be reckoned with at fifteen - glanced up from her magazine she was reading on her bed, her record player playing quietly from on top of her dresser, “Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

“Did you get that Elvis guy to marry you yet?”

“Oh, shut up, Chris.” Anna blushed, throwing one of her stuffed animals at him before getting up to slam the door in his face.

Christian glanced back at Daniel with a small smile before heading into the room adjacent to toss his bag on his bed. Daniel set his suitcase by his closet and leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“What’s with the new getup?” Daniel finally asked.

“Oh, this old thing?” Christian grinned, pulling at the hem of his leather jacket. “A buddy in the dorms threw this little bash back in the fall and there were all these swell guys there talking about this new fashion tread. Said it was what everyone’s doing now. I think it looks pretty good, don’t you?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” Christian scoffed. “Well something’s coming to you of this whole business too.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. The guys got me a job at the car shop upstate for the year, I made a bit of dough, fixed up some wheels, and I’m even transferred to another shop down here for the summer. But with the big bucks I made since the fall I can afford a new car.”

“That’s great, Chris.” Daniel said slowly, unsure of where his brother was going with that.

“So I want you to have my T-Bird.” Christian tossed over the keys.

Daniel tried to grab them in his shock but fumbled them and they fell to the carpet. He bent down quickly to pick them up, “Are you pulling my leg?”

“Nope. Car’s all yours. That or I’ll resell it but I know you’ve had your eye on it since I first got it.”

“Yeah! Oh, boy! Thank you!” Daniel grinned.

“Only thing I ask is that you tell me how your birthday went.” Christian smirked, flopping back onto his bed. He leaned back against the headboard with his hands tucked behind his head and his shoes resting up on his bag.

Daniel bit back a small smile, sitting gently at the end of his older brother’s bed, the car keys still in hand, “It was nice. Mom made me a cake. Vanilla, of course. And I had a few friends over to watch a movie on tv and we ordered a pizza.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Christian kicked him with the toe of his shoe lightly.

Daniel’s whole family knew about how excited he was to turn eighteen, solely for the purpose of finally being able to find his soulmate. The younger brother blushed lightly through a smile.

“I haven’t found her yet. But she likes strawberry milkshakes.”

“Strawberry? Well, thank God it’s not chocolate or you’d be miserable.” Christian chuckled. “Think she goes to your school?”

“I dunno. High school’s over anyway. But I want to try and find her this summer. She’s gotta be in the city, right?”

“It’s a big city, little bro.” Christian said.

“You’ll help me, right?”

“I gotta work.” Christian shrugged. “Besides, I gave up on that junk.”

“That junk? Finding your soulmate?” Daniel frowned over at him. He thought back to the late-night talks in their shared bedroom when they were nine and ten, sitting up facing each other on their adjacent twin size beds, talking about what it would be like to grow up and find their soulmates.

Christian hummed, sliding his tongue over his lips and in his mouth, an obvious unaware habit that meant his soulmate was eating something right then. Daniel wondered what he could taste.

Christian clicked his tongue and sat up with a deep inhale as if to pull himself out of his own thoughts, “Yeah, no use stressing yourself over it. Plenty of swell birds around to find, right?”

“I guess.” Daniel mumbled.

“I gotta unpack my things. Why don’t you take the car for a spin before dinner?” Christian suggested, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Sure.” Daniel stood up, glancing down at the keys in his hand. “Thanks again.”

Christian only sent him a dimpled grin and Daniel left his brother’s room without another word. He walked down the stairs and to the front door, calling over his shoulder to his parents that he would be back in a little bit before heading for the driveway. Daniel hopped over the door of the convertible and settled into the red leather seats with his hands falling gently against the steering wheel. He let a small smile come to his lips as the engine roared to life and the familiar taste of strawberry milkshakes grazed his tongue.

#daniel seavey #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we #christian seavey #why dont we music #wdw #why dont we fanfic #seavey #au #soulmate au #daniel seavey imagines #why dont we imagines #🍓

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years ago

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hey! so, i've been a huge fan of your writing for a while now. you always offer me so much inspiration within your stories, i absolutely love your ability bring life to all the characters and settings you write about. and idk if you're still accepting requests for your otp mix n' match challenge, nor if you'd even consider doing this request haha, but- could i perhaps request 15 & 11? i am super interested in potentially seeing what your take on my personal otp would be! much love either way

Hi, this has been in my drafts for like.... forever. Since April or May, I think? Oh boy. My apologies, I completely forgot about it until I stumbled across it today. But hey, better now than never, I suppose. Also thank you for your kinds words! I truly appreciate it! :D

“Louis and Mitch pretend to date to make others jealous but you know what happens.”

Read on AO3

This is a joke.

This is a joke and he’s the butt of it.

How did the fuck did he end up here?

Mitch knows this has to be a joke because Louis did not go through this much effort for it to not be a joke.

The remaining fries on the plate have gone cold, mushy beneath the squirt of bright cheddar cheese. Walter’s Diner has the best fries in this hellhole of a town, and usually, they’re the first thing he chows down before finishing his burger or even touching his shake.

Fuck. Fucking hell.

It’s hard to concentrate on and enjoy his food with Louis’ arm behind his neck, hand casually resting over Mitch’s shoulder as he and Violet argue whether they should order a basket of donut holes or four slices of peach pie for dessert.

“They’re stuffed,” Violet says, pointing at the menu, reading, “‘Our bite-sized delights are baked to perfection, stuffed with our delicious cream cheese filling, and tossed in a heavenly mixture of cinnamon and sugar.’ And you’re telling me that doesn’t sound good?”

“And you’re telling me that a slice of Walter’s famous peach pie doesn’t make your mouth water?” Louis sighs. “I’m salivating just thinking about it.”

Violet wrinkles her nose.

“Peach pie sucks.”

“You suck.”

“C’mon guys,” Aasim butts in, eyes rolling in that exasperated way he gets whenever Louis and Violet do this. “Donuts suck, pie sucks, and you both suck. Let’s order ice cream.”

With a hand pressed against his chest, Louis lets out his fakest, most dramatic gasp. Next comes the obnoxious- and probably offensive- British accent.

“Why, my dear Mitch, Violet, did you hear what this lickspittle just said to us?”

Violet’s last tater tot goes flying as a response, bouncing off Aasim’s nose.

“Are you serious?” Aasim snatches the tater tot back up, throwing it at Louis.

“Hey! Rude!” Louis laughs, his arm slipping out from behind Mitch to try and catch the tot. “What did I do?”

Without a thought, Mitch grabs the offending tot and tosses it back at Aasim, who catches it and lets it drop onto his plate.

“Knock it off, guys,” he says. “It shouldn’t take this long to decide on a dessert. I vote pie.”

That makes Louis smile.

“Ah, a man after my own heart,” he sighs, shifting closer against Mitch’s side- Jesus Christ almighty- and pressing quick kiss against his cheek.

Fuck everything. Fuck, fuck-

This causes Mitch to suck in a breath, only to cover it up by coughing into his sleeve. God, his face is going to melt off, especially if Louis keeps looking at him like that.

“That’s not a surprise,” Violet rolls her eyes, ignoring the kiss and Mitch’s coughing fit. “He sucks, too.”

“Can’t we just agree that we all suck?” Louis says.

“Can’t you ever shut your pie hole?”

“Can’t we all just order different desserts?” Aasim pleads, finger jabbing at the menu on the table to emphasize his point.

Louis and Violet look at one another, puzzled as if that idea never occurred to them. At this point, Mitch didn’t even care about dessert, didn’t really even want any.

Louis shifts and there’s the warm, distracting press of his knee against his and Mitch has never been so tense in his entire life.

He's too fucking close. Too close. Too close. And he kissed him. On the cheek, sure, but fucking hell-

Never has he felt such tension in his body, even when something obnoxiously embarrassing passes his father’s mouth, or when Willy’s fingers slip from the branches of whatever tree he’s climbing and he almost plummets to the ground.

He doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that Aasim won’t stop gawking at them every time they do anything, or that Louis is fucking comfortable doing the things that make Aasim gawk in the first place.

This whole thing is nothing but a cruel joke that Mitch was stupid enough to take the bait for.

And for what? A promise of Louis buying him lunch every day for a month? Was a free meal every day worth this level of anxiety and... gross feelings?

“Fine,” says Violet. “I’ll eat a whole basket myself, but don’t any of you dare eyeball them. You had your chance.”

“I won’t eyeball your donuts if you don’t eyeball my pie.”

“I won’t because pie sucks.”

“You suck!”

“Oh my god,” Aasim abruptly twists around, desperately tapping on the shoulder of a now startled waitress. “Two slices of peach pie, a basket of donuts holes, and an ice cream cone to go. Please. I want to go home.”

The waitress stares at him, baffled, before nodding and getting away from their table as quickly as possible.

Louis chuckles, arm slipping back behind Mitch as he says, “I think she likes you.”

“Shut up!” Aasim frowns. “I swear to god...”

Louis continues to laugh, but he steals a glance at Mitch. Something softens and it’s... Mitch doesn’t know what the fuck it is. Ever since they started this, sometimes Louis will look at him like that.

From what he can tell, Louis doesn’t even look at the girl like that, and she’s the entire reason they’re doing this.

That girl- what the fuck’s her name? He couldn’t have possibly tuned Louis out every time he mentions her- the redhead from his art class or whatever. She’s the one who started this bullshit.

About a month ago, Louis wrote him a note detailing, “I need your help. Meet me by the school entrance during lunch? It’s important,” while they’re in the middle of a pop quiz. As if Mitch didn’t have enough to worry about with all the damn fractions scattering the quiz, but then he was left worry about what the hell Louis needed his help with.

Also, he did this without Mr. Garcia noticing. How the fuck that’s possible is beyond him. If they were caught, both of their quizzes would’ve been ripped to shreds. Mitch didn’t need that shit right now.

Then, the entrance was barely in sight by the time Louis snuck up on him, grabbed his arm, and proceeded to drag him outside and across the parking lot so they could hop into the safety of Mitch’s hand-me-down truck despite Mitch’s protests. He hadn’t cleaned his truck of its fast-food wrappers or loose sheets of forgotten homework in weeks, and that left him worried that the air freshener didn’t work.

Finally, Louis managed to explain this so-called plan of his to Mitch with a straight face, not cracking once. He actually sounds serious enough that Mitch might’ve believed him if this bullshit wasn’t so... so bullshit.

“I really like her,” Louis had said, “and Violet said this kind of thing could get her attention.”

Of course, Mitch didn’t agree so easily because the plan was- nd still is- stupid.

“You think pretending to date me is gonna get her attention?” he scoffed. “I’m not fucking doing this. Ask Vi.”

“I can’t ask Vi. She doesn’t date dudes and I’m pretty sure Brody would, like, break me in half or something.”

“Fine, Aasim then.”

“C’mon, you know Aasim would never.”

“Well,” Mitch threw his hands up. “I would never! Find someone else because I’m not gonna be your fake boyfriend so that you can make what’s-her-nut jealous!”

Jokes on him- Mitch’s been Louis’ fake boyfriend for weeks now because he hasn’t wooed what’s-her-nut yet. Which wasn’t that the whole point? They just pretend while she’s around? Not when they’re alone or when hanging out with Violet and Aasim?

Louis said it was to make it as real as possible, just in case what’s-her-nut found out. That doesn’t explain why Louis is the way he is when it’s just the two of them. Doesn’t explain the kiss on the cheek.

Mitch eats a cold fry, cringing at the taste. He can feel Violet looking at him while Louis goes on about something that happened in choir. When Mitch meets her eye, she smirks, raising a knowing brow. Mitch gives her a light kick under the table.

When the waitress finally brings them their dessert in separate bags, she doesn’t stick around long and avoids eye contact with Aasim.

“Hey, Vi,” Louis leans over her shoulder as they’re leaving the diner, “Can I have a donut hole?”

“I will stab you, your boyfriend, and your pie.”

“Hey, not my pie!” Louis grabs Mitch’s hand, knocking his shoulder into his. “Or my Mitch!”

Fucking hell.

Mitch doesn’t know how much longer he can handle this.

#twdgmixchallenge #twdg louis #twdg mitch #twdg violet #twdg aasim #twdg louitch #“Louis and Mitch pretend to date to make others jealous but you know what happens.”#it's been forever since i've done one of these #holy shit #i'm gonna barely edit it because it'll never get posted if i try to edit it #that's just who i am #hahaha #sorry it took forever but here ya go #it's been in my drafts since like... april i think #yeesh.... haha #i'm bad at what i do don't mind me #asks

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the-last-airbadger · 4 years ago

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My 2020

Hey y’all. So 2020 happened. That was a thing. Apparently. I know for a lot of people this year was uhm… pretty shit… but it was still a year that happened so it’s time for my annual reflection post (probably the only time I still post about myself on tumblr lol) and maybe we might even find some good things that happened this year!

The Beginning of 2020 vs Now

So, a lot has changed since the start of the year. A pandemic happened, for one. I can’t believe that a year ago I could still go to class every day and see my friends and now I’m pretty much stuck at home every day. The year started out pretty normal and then march happened and well, you all know what happened next. The worst part about the pandemic for me personally was probably the fact that I barely see my friends anymore and I can’t go to class every day. Some people may not think that not going to class is that bad, but I really enjoyed university more than I ever enjoyed school and I was really happy going there every day, and I was already sad I’d only have 4 to 5 years to spend there, so when that period got even shorter it made me kinda sad.

On the other hand, I do think that mentally I’m in a much better place than I was last year around this time. Being home this much really gave me time to reflect and work on my issues, and because my sister was stuck in our house for a couple of weeks I got to talk to her a lot which really helped me feel better. I think in general my entire family (my brother, sister and mom) have become a lot more open with each other which I think is great! I guess quarantine can have some benefits.

The Best Things about 2020

Okay, here’s is where we’re going to get even more positive and go over all the good things that happened (to me) this year! To be honest, most of the year was a bit of a blur so I probably will forget quite a bit, but I’m going to give this a try anyway. At the start of the year (when things were still normal) I was super excited to get into the next semester, as the one before had,,, kinda sucked, and those 6 weeks of class I had at the start of the year were really great. I remember me and my friends having a competition of who could get mentioned the most in our teacher’s powerpoint presentation so those classes were always interesting. I also finally got to dye my hair for the first time with the help of my friends. I’ve been wanting to do that for so long, and I’m so happy I finally got to do it! I even know how to do it myself now, and my hair hasn’t been brown since the start of march! Then, at the start of march, my dad and stepmother moved away and I permanently moved in with my mom. Before, I used to live with both my mom and my dad and I got really really sick of switching houses every week, so to finally live in one house and have all my stuff in one place was a bit of a relief to me, and I’m still really happy with it. After that, things become a bit blurry. I remember that at the start of quarantine in … April? I watched Sex Education or the first time, which is now not only one of my favourite shows ever, but also taught me a lot and helped me with some of the issues I was dealing with. We’ll skip over the subsequent sexuality crisis I had (I think I might actually be straight??), and skip straight to the summer, when I started watching I-Land. I watched every episode as it aired live, and because of this show my Fridays really became the highlight of the week. I don’t think I’ve ever been so invested in a survival show XD. The rest of the year was mostly just me spending time with myself. It got a bit lonely sometimes, but I also don’t think I’ve ever written as much as I have this year, and my drawing has significantly improved (if I may say so myself)! Especially towards the end of the year, when I started making a planning every day to prevent myself from wasting away all my time on youtube, I got super productive, and I wrote a lot, and made a lot of art, and I really felt good. I even started (gasp) working out. Yeah I know. Shocking right.

There was also a lot of good music that was released this year, and, to close this section on a great note, through one of my classes I finally found a group of friends to play D&D with! We haven’t actually played yet, but we will, and I’m so excited to play the game and get to know these people more! They all seem really kind!

My Resolutions for 2020?

Now, here’s the part where we check whether I actually reached all the goals I set myself for 2020. As usual, I have no idea what my resolutions were, so I honestly have no idea how I did. Let’s see, shall we?

Express my feelings more (as in I get really awkward in any sappy or mushy situation but I would like to be able to tell people I appreciate them without cringing) – UHM way to attack me on the very first resolution jeez. I did get more open with my family but I still can’t tell people I care about them without cringing so this is a fail lol

Again, learn to depend less on other people’s opinion and trust my own – I’ve been working on it, I think I’ve gotten a bit better? So win?

Get my sleeping schedule back on track – did that! It’s a bit whacky again now because of the holidays, but October and November were a big success regarding this resolution

WRITE MORE. This time I’ll make some concrete goals: Either I’ll get my story’s first draft done, or I’ll write 100 pages on a single project – okay, so here’s the thing. I don’t think I did any of these particular things, however this time I am 100% sure I wrote a lot more than the past years. I cannot count all the files and pages and notes I have now, but I wrote a lot, so I’m counting this as a win

I want to try NaNoWriMo (not necessarily in November, but at some point) – yeah, didn’t do that oops

I want to read a lot again but maybe not as much as this year because I want to focus on writing too. 40 books? – 49 books babey

Read all my current unread books (Aru Shah 2, Skullduggery Pleasant 9, Gemina, The Mistborn Trilogy and Call Down The Hawk) and finish my reread of Heroes of Olympus and the Raven Cycle) – Did all of these except Skullduggery Pleasant 9 (the start was so boring I decided not to read it all) and The Mistborn Trilogy (I am about halfway through the first book I think?) so I’m counting this as half a win

Finally read a book by V.E. Schwab (I’ve been wanting to try one of her books for ages) – Did that! Read a whole trilogy. It was good but not as great as I expected them to be. I think my expectations were too high though

Finish Playing Twilight Princess (I promised my brother) – Did that! I’m really proud of myself and so is my brother

Go. Swimming. Seriously. It’s scandalous that I still haven’t done that after waiting so long to be able to – IT’S BEEN 5 YEARS SINCE I LAST WENT SWIMMING WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME. I did buy new swimshorts but I still haven’t actually used them… shame on me

Try to worry less about school and not overwork myself – kinda?

Maybe try another drawing challenge somewhere this summer? I haven’t done any of those in a while and I feel like my art needs more attention – okay, so I didn’t do that, but I did at the start of the year make the resolution to make portrait/photoshoot-like drawings for my 8 main oc’s, and I did actually manage to finish that, and they are some of the best drawings I’ve ever made, so though I haven’t actually done a challenge specifically, I did do something

I want to try a 24 hour readathon – Yeah, didn’t do that oops

I kinda want to learn a piano piece as well, but I already have so many hobbies I want to focus on so I don’t know if I’ll have the time ☹ – yeah my dad sold our piano so… fail XD

Expectations for 2021

Now, after last year I think it’s safe to say we can never really know what to expect. But! I’m going to guess anyway because it’ll be really fun to see next year whether I got anything right.

The first thing that I think will probably happen this year (if I don’t majorly mess anything up) is I’ll be writing my thesis next semester, and then in the summer I’ll get my bachelor’s degree. Honestly I can’t believe how fricking fast those 3 years went, but I guess I’ll just have to roll with it lol. Corona vaccinations will also probably start happening next year, and hopefully this will mean that going outside and seeing my friends will be possible again next year – at least a lot more than it was this year. I hope 2021 will be the year of hanging out with friends and getting to live a little again. Maybe even get to go to class. That would be great.

On to more minor – but no less exciting – things, 2021 will probably bring us a new season of Sex Education! I’m sooo excited for that holy shit. And, in a similar vein, I have high hopes for kpop releases now that SHINee is finally back, and it looks like Haseul is also returning to LOONA! 2021 will also be the year in which ENHYPEN makes their first comeback, and some of the other I-LAND contestants will also make their debut, and there might even be a new season of I-LAND as well in the summer? So there’s a lot of things to look forward to. Oh, and I almost forgot, Dan Howell’s book will be released in May, and there will be a new Grishaverse book, and the Shadow and Bone show will start airing, which I am really curious about. Again, lots of things to look forward to!

2021 Resolutions

I’m not feeling as ambitious as I was last year, but there are a couple of things I want to try and do, so let’s jump into the resolutions!

I just came up with this today, but I think I want to try and build a bit of a skincare routine? The skin on my nose is kinda flakey, and I think it couldn’t hurt to try and take better care of my skin

Keep up with my daily workouts. I want to work out every day, except when I’m at my dad’s or when it’s a special day, like Christmas or something.

Be able to do either 50 push-ups on my knees, 25 normal push-ups, or both

GO SWIMMING

Keep up with planning daily! It’s a really good way to balance all of my 3195 hobbies and it helps me to not get stressed about school

Write (almost) every day. I need to make it a habit

Draw at least once a week, every other day if possible

Go outside at least once a week. That doesn’t seem very hard but with corona I did not realise how little I go outside if I am not forced to. Sometimes I spend 3 weeks without going out and I don’t even notice it. That can’t be good for me lol

Try to make healthier food choices. Maybe follow the lunch meal plan of the guy whose workout videos I follow.

Get my bachelor’s degree

Grow a beard. I’m getting closer… I know I’m getting closer…

Meet with my frIENDS and give them the alBUMS I have for them

Be more careful with my money, maybe even save a bit of money

Spend less time on social media

Read more educational books

I think that’s it! I can’t think of anything else right now so these will have to do. I wish that 2021 will treat all of you much better than whatever mess 2020 was! Happy 2021!

Last year’s post: (x)

@the-official-pentacorn @asiandutchgirl

#personal #my 2020 #this year was a wild ride #here's to a better 2021

3 notes · View notes

thebiasrekkers · 5 years ago

Text

Breathe: For The Reunion | PJM

For the @bangtanscenery - April Showers Bring May Flowers Project in celebration of the Spring Season!

Plot: Jimin’s curse is broken, allowing him to return to his own time. But there is a sense of emptiness that lingers inside of him as he readjusts to his former life. Just as things start to make sense again, he’s greeted by a face he’s longed to see once more.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Pairing: Park Jimin x Female OC (Brianna Larkins)

Warnings: Mild language, mental health issues, implication of curses/magic

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 8.2K

AN: Well, we finally made it here guys. We made it and now I'm sad that it's over. But I'm also happy I made it this far. I never imagined I would write a story like this and now that I have, I want to incorporate time-slip themes every chance I get. LOL. Thank you all for who has followed and loved this story. And thank you to those who will stumble across this in the future. You're awesome and you are loved.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Yo, Jimin! Stop spacing out and come on!”

Rolling his eyes, Jimin followed behind the others as they made their way up a large, grassy hill. Spring was in full force and his allergies were acting up. He didn’t want to come out there in the first place. The countryside was nice, but only when he had the time to spare to enjoy it. Assignments were piling up now that he was about to finish Grad School. His friends were insistent that he take a break before he burnt himself out. Jimin didn’t mind the burn out. It meant he was putting his whole heart into something.

Trekking up the mountain, however, felt like a colossal waste of his time.

“Jimin Hyung, you’re too slow!” yelled Taehyung as he motioned for him to hurry up.

Jimin scoffed as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, clambering up the hill. Out of the seven of them, he was lagging behind. Mostly because he was in no real hurry to get to their destination. He wasn’t the superstitious type, but he indulged his friends every once in a while.

Hence why they were making this trip up the mountain in the first place.

“The house isn’t going anywhere, Taehyung-ah,” he called back, adjusting his sunglasses, “and neither is the old woman, I’m sure.”

He finally made it to the top of the hill where the others were taking a break to hydrate themselves. Even though they started their journey up the mountain in the morning, it was already nearing midday. The heat was slowly intensifying and Jimin could only wipe at the sweat on his neck and brow with his handkerchief.

Jungkook tossed a bottle of water over to him as he made his to the others. Yoongi and Namjoon were busy looking at a map while Hoseok fussed over Taehyung for not putting on enough sunscreen. Seokjin rifled through his pack to hand out granola bars for everyone. Jimin sighed, admiring the image while worrying about his mid-term assignments in the back of his mind.

“How much further, Hyung?” Jimin asked as he sipped from the bottle.

“Honestly? I’d say another mile.” Yoongi scratched at the back of his neck as he pushed the map off to a confused Namjoon. “If we follow Namjoon’s directions, we’ll stumble across the gateway to the Underworld.”

Namjoon scoffed as he clicked his tongue behind his teeth. “Not true, but okay, Hyung.”

Seokjin waved his hands back and forth in an attempt to chase away the tension. “Now, now,” he said, handing off the granola bars, “stop being so uptight. You guys clearly need an energy boost.”

Jungkook crushed the wrapper and shoved it into his pocket after having devoured his snack in two bites. He was still chewing. “Not that I have anything against it, but I can’t believe we’re going to a witch’s house.”

“Hey,” Taehyung said, sucking air through his teeth, “she’s not a witch! She’s a powerful shaman.”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Oh geez…”

“I can’t believe I was dragged out of bed to hike up a mountain for half the day,” muttered Yoongi as he bit into the granola bar, “I’m already behind on my work.”

“You can work anytime,” said Namjoon as he bumped shoulders with him, “you need some sun.”

Hoseok smirked as he handed Yoongi a water bottle. “It’s true, Hyung. You can’t stay trapped in your basement all day.”

Yoongi frowned. “It’s my studio, guys.”

Suddenly, Jungkook threw himself onto Yoongi’s back in a playful hug. “Aw, c’mon, Hyung! You’re starting to sound like Jimin Hyung, obsessed with work all the time!”

“I’m still in school, you dummy,” Jimin snapped as he reached out to poke Jungkook’s cheek, “and so are you. You should take it more seriously.”

He watched his friend pout, still clinging to Yoongi. “After college, that’s it. I’m never going back to school again!”

Jimin smirked as he shook his head. Jungkook had a plan, albeit a simple one, and if his parents hadn’t forced him to go to college in the first place, he’d already be joining the workforce like an adult. Having a college education didn’t make things better, but it would be nice if the world didn’t treat him like the simpleton he always portrayed himself to be. Thankfully, Hoseok and Seokjin helped him with his studies. Taehyung worked full-time and only gave himself time off to poke at Jimin since, out of the two of them, Jimin was the one who decided to attend Grad School.

Taehyung peered over Namjoon’s shoulder at the map, then looked over where another hill crested off just to the North. “Uh, shouldn’t it be just over that hill up there?”

Jimin watched Yoongi’s chest swell with pride. “You mean the one a mile off?”

“Yeah.”

A low groan came from Namjoon. Without saying a word, Yoongi held his hand out and Namjoon placed some bills into his palm. When had a wager been made?

“Well, let’s go,” said Seokjin, readjusting his pack into a more comfortable position, “the sooner we get there, the sooner we can get our fortunes read and head back down the mountain.”

“Agreed,” mused Jimin, already starting off toward the hill, “I have a paper due next week and I need to get started on it.”

Taehyung sidled up next to him and nudged his side with his elbow, causing Jimin to side-step to the left. “You’re telling me it’s not the first draft? I find that hard to believe.”

Jimin shrugged as they all started off toward the hill. “I had to help Grandma with her rice cake shop while she was going through treatment.”

He watched Taehyung’s playful demeanor deflate immediately. “Oh, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have swung by.”

“It’s fine,” he said, reaching out to pat Taehyung’s head like he was a child. Jimin laughed at the way his friend pouted, his cheeks puffing out in defiance. “She’s a lot better now. Just routine stuff and to get her prescription. You know how Granny likes to overwork herself.”

“Even so,” muttered Taehyung, “next time, just freakin’ call me, dude.”

“I will. I will.”

The trek up the hill wasn’t bad. In fact, it didn’t even feel like it was a mile at all. Everyone was talking all at once about different things. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Jimin really had missed his friends. They all grew up together in the roughneck parts of Seoul, but they’d grown up to be pretty decent human beings.

Maybe it was because they had each other. Or maybe because they feared getting beat into the next century by their families. Either way, they all managed to walk the path they felt was best suited for them.

Namjoon reached the top of the hill first, determined to salvage some of his dignity from having lost his bet with Yoongi. He pointed to the house just further up the hill, surrounded by wildflowers and canvassed by a small cluster of trees near the back of the house. They all stopped, blinking slightly at the stark contrast of the house’s architectural design. Last they checked, they were definitely still in South Korea and while it wasn’t uncommon for structures to have a western look to it, it seemed a little farfetched to have one this far out in the countryside.

On the outside, it looked like a Tudor cottage with natural brick and molding. Everything else was white or a soft yellow color for the trimming, the roof tiles a rich cobalt blue. No one said anything, but it was clear that all they could do was silently marvel at the house’s appearance. Jimin had to wonder if the person residing in this house was, in fact, a witch, and not a shaman like Taehyung claimed.

“See? I told you it was a witch’s house!” exclaimed Jungkook, giving voice to what all of them were clearly thinking.

Taehyung cleared his throat. “Who said that the shaman was Korean?”

“Give it a rest, you two,” said Hoseok in mid-sigh. He peered at Yoongi who was visibly battling with something internally. “Everything alright, Hyung?”

Yoongi bit his thumbnail, a telltale sign that he was uncomfortable. “...I think we should leave.”

Seokjin blinked as he managed to grunt out a noise in confusion. “Huh? Wha-already?”

Again, Jimin wasn’t the superstitious sort. But he learned to trust Yoongi’s hunches over the years. If their friend said they needed to leave, then they should have been hightailing it down the mountain. But even he couldn’t hide his own curiosity. Nothing was even happening yet. Why was he already wanting to leave?

“I feel like something is going to happen.”

“Like what?” Jungkook tilted his head slightly. “Something bad?”

“No,” Yoongi replied slowly, his line of sight shifting to look back at the house, “just...something different than what we’re probably expecting.”

Taehyung raspberried and then laughed. “Oh, come on, Hyung. You make it sound so ominous. We came up here to get our fortunes read, so let’s just do that and then we can leave.”

In that sense, Jimin couldn’t really argue with him there. They came all this way. Superstitious or not, he didn’t want to leave without having something to show for it.

Suddenly, the door to the house opened and out stepped a woman. She looked to be in her mid to late thirties. Her dark auburn hair fell across her shoulders and back in thick ringlets. She wore a garland of flowers on her head like a crown and her clothing made her appear to have stepped out of the Victorian Era - a long and flowing black gown with a white corset cinched tightly around her waist. The sleeves belled out at the elbows, covering her hands, and there was a golden sash draped across her chest - a black crest of a one-winged dragon emblazoned along it.

She took measured steps from the front porch of the house, her dress a point of reference against all the natural colors surrounding her. Her eyes were closed, but it was clear that she had no problem seeing if anyone were to assume she was blind. Turning her face slowly to look in the direction of the sun, Jimin couldn’t help wondering if the woman had seen them at all.

“I just finished making a pot of tea,” she said, and Jimin could feel everyone’s shoulders stiffen from the tension, including his own. The woman turned her head to face them, but her eyes were still closed. She smiled. “Would you all care to join me?”

They all began crowding Yoongi and speaking at once.

“What are we gonna do?”

“Do we go in? Yes? No?”

“She looks really pretty. I bet she is a witch!”

“I mean, we came all this way, right?”

“Dammit, I told you she was a shaman!”

“Since when are Westerners considered shamans?”

Yoongi angrily huffed air from his nostrils. “Shut-up!” he snapped, glaring at all of them, “I can’t fuckin’ think!”

“You came to have your fortunes read, did you not?” They all looked back up at the woman who gestured with one of her bell sleeves to the door. “Then please, come inside and make yourselves comfortable.”

There was a bit of reticence sparking inside of Jimin. But he resigned himself to do whatever his friends wanted, since that was the reason he allowed himself to be dragged out there in the first place. He couldn’t deny his curiosity, but he was just as much a skeptic as any other.

Taehyung, not waiting for them to decide, strode up the hill. Jungkook quickly followed suit until the others were left with no choice but to do the same. The fragrant smell of tea and something sweet seemed to linger from the doorway and the aroma eased whatever trepidation they may have had. Maybe this wouldn’t have been as bad as they were imagining it to be.

Upon entering the house, they were all stunned near the entrance. Everything inside the interior of the house was white. The walls. The ceiling. The floor. There wasn’t a single pigment adorning anything on the surface level. However, everything was decorated with flowers of various shades and sizes. The smell nearly overwhelmed Jimin and he quickly covered his mouth to keep an oncoming migraine at bay.

A small calico cat meowed at the appearance of guests intruding on its home. Jungkook and Taehyung immediately attempted to pet the cat, but it danced just out of reach. Instead, it strode to the far corner of the main living room area, sitting down to observe them from afar. It may have been a trick of the light, but Jimin swore the cat was looking directly at him more than the others.

“Don’t mind her,” said the woman as she closed the door, “she’s always been finicky around strangers.”

The woman gestured for them to have a seat wherever they liked just as the kettle whistled with life. The sound of dishes clinking showed that she was busying herself with preparations. The sweet smell of something freshly baked was even more powerful now that they were inside. Jungkook made a comment about it, to which the woman laughed but said nothing more.

It went without saying that the house, itself, was strange. The woman in question was even stranger. No one said anything about it. At least not yet. Jimin could see Yoongi across the room, rifling with what to speak out about in regards to their current situation.

“How did you even find out about this place, Namjoon?” Seokjin asked suddenly. Yoongi looked at him as if he’d read his mind.

Namjoon shrugged as he peered at a large fern hanging from the wall. “I read about it in some magazine article.”

Hoseok blinked. “A magazine article? Really?” He craned his neck to look at the woman as she started pouring tea. “Did you have an interview, Miss?”

“No,” she replied simply, “I haven’t been interviewed by anyone. I rarely get visitors as it is.”

“I see,” Jimin said slowly as he shot Namjoon a dubious look, “makes me wonder what magazine you were nosing through.”

He watched Namjoon’s expression change to one clearly offended. “You make it sound like I was reading porn.” He folded his arms across his chest. “It was just some magazine a friend gave to me while we were hanging out. Figured it would be a cool place to go check out.”

“So you dragged us out here on a whim?” Yoongi arched a brow. “Because of a magazine article, Namjoon-ah?”

“Come now. There’s no need for such hostility.” The woman approached them, carrying a large tray with tea and small butter cookies. “As I said, I rarely get visitors and your energy really livens up the place.”

Jungkook took the tray from her and bowed his head, even though she still had her eyes closed. “We’re sorry to intrude.”

She gestured to the large table off to the right. While the others sat in the chairs, he shook his head some. He didn’t remember the table being there earlier. Or had his mind been playing tricks on him while he was focused on something else?

The woman waited for them all to take a seat before slowly sitting down at the head of the table. With a wide flourish, she lifted her right arm up. As the bell of her sleeve slid down, revealing her pale skin, there was a large deck of cards clasped between her fingers. Some of his friends gasped in delightful surprise and even Taehyung clapped. Seokjin flashed an open-mouthed grin as he lifted the cup to his lips. Hoseok blinked curiously, his eyes full of wonder as to what would happen next. Jimin merely folded his arms across his chest, not really impressed but not dismissive either.

“I do not read fortunes so much as I read futures.” She placed the deck on the table, spreading the large cards out in a semi-circle in front of her. “Are any of you familiar with Tarot?”

As far as Jimin knew, none of them were really into the occult. Things regarding fortunes were often told through talismans and rice or even bowls of water. Cards weren’t really used and talismans were only brought out for exorcisms. These were all things that Jimin didn’t believe in to begin with. Superstitious practices were coupled with customs that all Koreans performed out of habit and from being raised in certain household environments that kept true to the old ways.

Again, Jimin just didn’t buy into that sort of nonsense.

The woman smiled warmly when a few replied that they did not, in fact, know about Tarot. “Wonderful,” she said as she gently clapped her hands together, “then you’re all in for a treat. Can I ask that you all please choose a card from the pile?”

Each of them looked to the other, before shrugging. Jungkook was the first to grab a card, followed by Taehyung. One by one, they all picked a card, with Jimin being the last to pull from the deck.

“Now, I want you all to place your card face up on the table.”

They each did as they were asked. The woman waited, her eyes closed, but it seemed like she was able to see regardless. She made little noises, nodding her head a few times, and then paused when she looked in Jimin’s direction. He didn’t know what card he was looking at, but it must have been something interesting enough to cause the woman to not say anything. Instead, she placed a finger on her chin and tapped it a few times. Her full lips formed into a small ‘O’ before shifting into a smirk.

“Well, well,” she finally said, folding her hands in her lap, “it seems that all of you have pretty good luck.” She turned her head to face Jimin, her elegant smile still present. “All except you. You have the worst luck of them all.”

His friends all turned to face him and his cheeks instantly grew hot, both from embarrassment and outrage. How could she determine something like that from a simple card draw?!

Not willing to accept her words at face value, Jimin scoffed loudly. “What makes you say that?”

She picked up his card and held it up so he could see it. “This is The Tower. It signifies a sudden change that is to occur, one that is completely outside of your control.”

He arched a single brow. “So?”

Again, the woman’s smile remained. “It means that you, a man who takes pride in your level of control, is about to have that control stolen from you.” Her smile widened a small measure. “And that pride of yours will be shattered as well.”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “That’s insane.”

“Is it?” She gave a slight tilt of her head. “As someone as practical and rational as yourself, are you certain that you would not break if such a thing were to occur?” The woman placed the card among the pile, grabbing for the others, and then shuffled them in a wide circle. She gestured to Jimin, then to the pile. “Draw again, please.”

“Whatever,” he said, reaching for the pile and picking up a card. When he looked at it, his eyes widened. “What the hell is this?” Jimin stared at the woman, watching her smile grow a fraction more. It was like she already knew what he’d drawn.

He drew The Tower once more.

“See? I told you that you have the worst luck of them all.” Jimin was too flabbergasted to come up with a decent rebuttal. Instead, he could only watch the woman take the card back and place it back into the pile. Her hands shuffled the cards once more. She picked up a card and turned it face up on the table. “The Wheel of Fortune is what you fear. You fear change because change means having to adjust your current way of thinking; your current outlook on life. You also take many things for granted, but most people do.” She turned to face him again. “You fool yourself into believing that you don’t, smothering your selfish desires down in the hopes of keeping them hidden from those closest to you.”

Jimin balked, unable to process everything this woman was saying. Who did she think she was? She didn’t know him! She didn’t know how he thought or of the struggles he had to endure in order to get this far in his life. He was young and still had more things to experience; to learn. But that didn’t mean he was some bump on a log. He knew that due diligence and perseverance mattered when achieving a goal. Focusing on those goals was what led to dreams being reality.

Nothing came from simply sitting around idly and doing nothing. And in that case, Jimin didn’t believe in luck either.

He didn’t even bother stifling the laugh that burst out of him. It startled his friends, because they knew that laugh. It wasn’t a joyous sound. No.

It was an angry one.

“You’ve got some nerve, Lady,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “you don’t even know me. And what? You think flipping over a few cards means you can tell me all about my life? Like you’ve been there to see any of it? Don’t fucking kid yourself!”

“J-Jimin-ah,” called Hoseok gently, trying to get Jimin to calm down a little.

But it was too late. Jimin was furious.

Because what right did this woman have to expose him like that in front of his friends? His struggles were his own. His merits were his own. No one had a right to them because Jimin worked hard to get where he was. He was still working hard to maintain it. Winding up purposeless and with no drive was a nightmare he wouldn’t even dream of suffering through.

At the end of the day, who gave a damn about smelling the roses? Enjoying the little things in life didn’t erase the reality that he had to face. Small indulgences like being with his friends was more for them than for him. Because, in the end, he would have to deal with his problems by himself. No one else would be able to help him and, as such, he ultimately couldn’t rely on anyone but himself.

For the first time since they arrived, the woman’s smile fell. She even looked a little disappointed. “It truly is a shame you feel that way.” Shaking her head, she picked up another card and held it up to show Jimin. “And because of that, because of your lack of trust in others, as well as your own guarded selfishness, this is your fate.”

He glared at the words on the card, only to realize that she was holding it upside down. He quickly deciphered the backwards writing, then blinked in confusion.

It was The Hermit.

“You have lost your way, Jimin Park. You have deluded yourself into believing you have a purpose when, in fact, you do not understand your true purpose at all.”

Jimin’s gaze met the woman’s, causing him to shift back harshly in the chair. The legs scraped loudly on the floor, the noise sending an unpleasant chill to spread throughout his entire body. It wasn’t the fact that she knew his name, even though it wasn’t given in its entirety. That wasn’t what startled him.

It was her eyes.

Her eyes were finally open, revealing swirls of purple and blue the likes of which he’d never seen before. The house began to shake violently, causing the tea cups to rattle off the table and crash to the floor. When he looked around, he realized that his friends were gone. Only he was alone with the woman and he stood up quickly, forcing the chair to fall to the floor. The woman, however, remained seated. She seemed unaffected by what was happening and all Jimin could do was look around helplessly as he yelled for his friends who, for all intents and purposes, vanished into thin air.

“And until you are able to truly understand who you are, you will never be able to become who you are meant to be.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” he snarled at her. “And what did you do with my friends?!”

“You will be alone. Isolated. For as long as it takes.” Her eyes narrowed. “Until you recognize your mistakes. Until you can see beyond your own desires. The world that you’ve never bothered to give a second glance will now ignore you in return.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He didn’t fully understand what that meant, but Jimin had an idea and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

“And the day that it finally looks back at you, that will be the moment when you will have to make a choice. You will have to choose between the world...or yourself.”

And before Jimin could question what she meant by those ominous words, an array of colors burst forth from around her, nearly blinding him. He shielded his eyes, crying out into the void, before being swallowed up into a swirling galaxy of stars and nebulas. A place where he knew, in his heart of hearts, that he would be alone.

That he would be alone for a very long time.

Pain.

Hurt.

Everything hurt.

Jimin could feel himself fighting with it, struggling to climb to the surface of his consciousness. He was at the precipice of it. He knew he was so close to reaching that moment where he would be able to process everything. Most likely it would hit him all at once, but it was better than drowning in the darkness. So deeply submerged that there was little chance of him escaping.

There was warmth. And sound. A steady, rhythmic beat that seemed to rest along his skin. It was muffled at first, until it became clearer with each passing second.

It was a beeping sound.

His brows furrowed and a low groan escaped his throat. Rustling noises came from both sides and he finally managed to open his eyes. Everything came into focus all at once, including the bright light that nearly blinded him. Jimin squinted and lifted one arm to shield his face from the intruding brightness.

“Jimin!”

“Jimin-ah!”

“Hyung!”

As he continued to shield his face, Jimin wrestled with the familiar voices. He was in pain, but it wasn’t in the way that he could remember it. Shouldn’t his shoulder have been hurting more than it was? And he remembered drifting off somewhere. Was he sleeping? Had it all been a dream?

“Don’t go!” shouted Bree as she tried to jump and reach for him, but he was too far away.

Was this really the end?

“I love you!” Jimin yelled suddenly, causing Bree to stop her attempts to pull him back.

She blinked up at him. “J-Jimin…”

A sad smile formed on his lips. This was inevitable. There was nothing they could do to stop this. He was going back to his own time now; to his own world.

“I love you so much…”

Bree gasped, covering her mouth. But when it seemed he would pass through the ceiling, she lowered her hands and flashed the same sad smile back up to him.

“…I love you too.”

Gasping, Jimin bolted upright and clawed at the air. His eyes, wide and full of tears, burned as colors flooded his vision. “BREE!”

Hands gripped at his shoulders, attempting to push him back down onto the plush surface he was resting on. Jimin struggled against them, his shoulders jerking in either direction as he yelled and bucked his hips off the mattress. Everyone called his name, trying to get him to calm down, but this made him rage against them further. He could feel the vein bulging near his neck as his eyes strained from the pressure building up behind them.

His eyes focused on those around him; familiar faces. His friends. They were all clearly worried about him, some even a little apprehensive about his response after just waking up. But the image of Bree wouldn’t leave the forefront of his mind.

“L-Let go of me!” he shouted, lunging his upper body forward. “LET ME GO!”

A nurse swiftly pushed through his friends, pulling out a needle and injecting it into his IV. It didn’t take long for the sedative to work, Jimin’s vision growing cloudy. But he could tell it wasn’t meant to knock him out. His thundering heartbeat settled slowly and a heavy weight forced him to push his body back into the plush cushions. After the nurse whispered something to Seokjin, the others quickly surrounded him but made sure not to crowd him too much.

Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed slowly, his shoulders tense as he wrangled with what to say. “...Hyung?”

He blinked slowly as he rolled his neck to look at him. “J-Jungkook-ah?” Jimin shifted his gaze to Taehyung. “What’s going on?”

“You passed out,” Taehyung murmured, draping a hand along the back of his neck, “so we took you to the hospital.”

Jimin licked his lips as he rubbed at one of his eyes. “How long have I been out?”

“A couple of hours,” Namjoon answered, causing Jimin to jump slightly, “not too long.”

He’d only been out for a few hours? That couldn’t have been right. Years went by as he traveled through all those different places! It didn’t seem feasible that he’d only been knocked out for mere hours.

Again, he tried to sit up. This time, Hoseok helped him so he could get more comfortable. “What about that woman?” His gaze met Hoseok’s and he noted the confusion etched on his friend’s face. “What happened?”

Hoseok tilted his head slightly. “What woman?” Jimin frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“That witch-shaman-fortune teller lady!” Jimin looked between all of his friends and they looked just as puzzled as Hoseok. What was going on?! “We went to the mountains to get our fortunes read, and--”

“No,” stressed Yoongi as he folded his arms across his chest, “we were about to board the train for Gwangju and you passed out at the terminal.”

Jimin’s heart skipped, a bead of sweat forming on his temple. “W-What?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “The train?”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he nodded. “Yeah. We were going to Gwangju for a few days to start off Summer Break, remember?”

Pain hummed behind Jimin’s eyes. He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead in an attempt to settle his nerves. They hadn’t gone to the mountains. They hadn’t met that woman who cursed him, trapping him in that house and sending him into an unexpected journey. They never even left Seoul!

So, it’s really broken, he thought, his hand moving to cover his mouth while staring at the bed sheets, I’m really back.

Bree’s smiling face flashed in his mind as she held Juno in her arms. What happened to them? Were they stuck in the house in his place? Had he condemned them to his fate once his curse was lifted?

An overwhelming sense of guilt exploded across his chest, causing Jimin to cover his face with his hands as he openly sobbed into them. He felt his brothers’ comforting embraces holding him as he cried. He knew they were probably thinking that Jimin was just confused and disoriented and, in truth, he was.

But the true pain that seeped throughout his entire body was the thought of leaving Bree to suffer what was once his fate...alone.

Days bled into weeks. It was one giant blur for Jimin. After getting over his disorientation, he was able to regain some functionality in his daily life. His friends insisted they cancel their trip to Gwangju and just stay in Seoul, but Jimin said there wasn’t a need. He didn’t want to ruin their holiday because of his dysfunctionalism and he probably needed the break himself. After so many years of not working, studying, and even doing anything remotely productive during his travels, Jimin wasn’t sure if he was ready to get back into the swing of things.

After they returned from their trip, he contacted his advisors and professors to let them know he would be taking the semester off after he turned in his assignments. He was barely able to struggle through his paper and he couldn’t even remember what his term paper was initially about anymore. Sure, he’d left himself notes and even written an outline, but his head was jumbled with too many other concerns to focus on school.

His parents were extremely disappointed with his decision to withdraw from school, but Jimin couldn’t bring himself to change his mind. If it was still taking him over a month to remember what year it was, he knew he would just stress himself out in the middle of his classes. He needed a break. He needed something else to focus his attention on while also allowing himself to feel productive in the meantime. Jimin wasn’t giving up on school completely, but he knew that it just wasn’t for him right now.

He moved back to Busan to be closer to his family and to also help his grandmother with her rice cake shop. She was beyond ecstatic for the company and this allowed her time to pay more attention to her own health. Kneading dough and the smell of rice powder brought a sense of calm to Jimin’s routine. Meeting and interacting with customers, as well as doing research to help bolster sales, allowed him to momentarily forget the loneliness he felt.

But at night, everything always came back full circle. Jimin often had night terrors filled with visions of Bree blaming him for abandoning her; for leaving her behind in that perpetually never ending cycle. Jimin may have gotten used to it, but the inability to escape his prison, a prison he’d brought upon himself, was a concept he was sure would drive anyone mad.

If I left her there like that…

He could never finish the thought that followed swiftly after waking up from a nightmare. Jimin was too afraid to finish it. Because giving it a voice, even a silent one, would mean that there was a chance it would come true.

Every day and every night, Jimin thought about looking for Bree. But he honestly didn’t know where to start his search. Looking for her by name was one thing, but he couldn’t imagine how many “Brianna Larkins” would turn up. He didn’t have much money so hiring a private investigator was almost out of the question. It wasn’t like he lived in the new millennium where the internet and smartphones were regular things. This was the only thing that granted him a bit of solace, knowing he returned to only a decade after her time.

But who was to say that Bree was actually a person of the 80s? Just because her friends happened to have an 80's radio? For all he knew, they could have just been a bunch of trendy hipsters who wanted to seem eclectic by having an old-fashioned portable radio. Jimin traveled enough through the past and future to know that a person couldn’t always judge everything at face value.

What if she wasn’t even born yet?

These, and many other anxieties, haunted Jimin at almost every turn. Taehyung often visited him when he had the chance, as did the others, but nothing could chase away the panic-induced terror that threatened to suffocate him each and every single night.

His grandmother finally suggested that he see a therapist. Mental health wasn’t a strongly advocated subject at the time, but anything was better than falling into a tailspin of depression he wouldn’t be able to escape from. There were specialists in Busan, but the best psychiatrists were in Seoul. Taehyung supported his need for some kind of medical attention, even if it meant just sitting down and talking to someone unrelated to him.

Jimin set his first appointment for the following week.

He didn’t think he’d be this nervous.

After filling out all the paperwork, Jimin found himself wringing his hands together as he waited for someone to call him to the back. Taehyung and Yoongi both recommended this particular clinic because of the well-known specialists who hailed from different parts of the world and practiced medicine internationally. He wasn’t one to knock something until he tried it. Or at least that was how he felt he was now . Jimin was pretty confident his old self would never have entertained the idea of seeing a psychiatrist.

There was a first time for everything. Even this.

He fiddled with some magazines until he was called. Something to keep his hands busy. Part of him wanted to bolt out of the door and never look back. There was an old part of him that lingered in the deep recesses of his mind. About how this was just all in his head and he would just need some time to get over it.

But he’d spent years in isolation. Regardless of whether it was in his own head or not wasn’t the point. Those moments were real to him and the mind was a powerful thing. The pain he felt was real to him. The feelings he experienced were real to him.

In essence, that was all that mattered.

I can’t keep running from this, he thought as he clenched his fists together, running is what got me into trouble in the first place.

“Park Jimin-ssi?” He lifted his head to see the receptionist waving at him. “The doctor will see you now.”

Standing, Jimin moved to the door as it opened and the receptionist smiled as she held a clipboard to her chest. She gestured for him to follow behind her and they walked down a small corridor. She opened the door before he could see the name on the outside, ushering him to go inside.

“The doctor will be with you shortly,” she said, bowing her head slightly, “would you like some tea?”

Jimin bowed his head awkwardly in return. “Uh, yes, please. Thank you.”

She bowed again. “Of course. I’ll be right back. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

She closed the door gently behind her and Jimin slowly sat down on the couch in front of a large glass and metal desk. It was littered with various books, mostly fairy tales and some self-help books. Others were reference materials and even subjects alluding to science fiction. Jimin couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. It reminded him of the months he spent with Bree, studying various texts to get even a vague idea of what his circumstances entailed.

She’d been so selfless in wanting to help him. There was nothing to gain from doing so. All she wanted was for him to be able to return to his family; to his own world.

Again, the phantom ache of guilt pounded against his chest, causing Jimin to absentmindedly rub at it. He was here so he could put a voice to the remorse that ripped through him. Letting it eat away and fester inside wasn’t going to help things. There was no way to get back to Bree, but he wanted to believe that she hadn’t met the same fate.

Wanting to find something to distract his thoughts, he peered at the walls of the room and admired some of the paintings that decorated the doctor’s office. Some were simple ones - replicas of Monet’s work and some of Dali. But what gave Jimin pause was the silver-framed picture sitting on the doctor’s desk.

It was a picture of a calico cat playing around in the flowers. The letters monogrammed on the lower half of the frame had Jimin’s jaw dropping.

JUNO

Suddenly, the door opened and Jimin jumped to his feet. His eyes focused on the person now in the room, but their back was to him. Her attire was simple, comfortable, but she still carried an air of professionalism. Her thick auburn curls were pulled into a low ponytail and silver hoops dangled from her ears. The door latch catching sounded like muffled cannon fire in his ears.

“Sorry for the wait, Mr. Jimin Park,” she said, her voice laced with amusement; a voice he could never forget, “I like your name. I’m Doctor Brianna Larkins.” She turned around, a smile still on her face, but it fell instantly when her eyes locked with his.

Jimin could hardly believe what he was seeing. Even the loud clatter of her clipboard hitting the ground wasn’t enough to rattle his thoughts. Bree continued to stand by the door as Jimin remained where he was near the couch.

For a while, neither of them moved. Jimin was too scared. He was afraid of what would happen the very moment he took a step forward. Would everything fizzle into smoke before his eyes? Would he lose her again?

And just like the last time, Bree was the one to speak first.

“J-Jimin…”

Her eyes were full of unshed tears and Jimin’s own vision began to wobble. “B-Bree?”

He watched her tears fall and he felt like the universe was being created at that moment, her smile so radiant that he couldn’t believe that he was the reason for it. Not even for a second.

Jimin soaked in her presence. She was older now. Of course she was. Even though he was the older one when they’d first met, it was clear that time hadn’t frozen for her. She was there with him, in his own time. Bree wasn’t trapped in his prison, made to suffer for his own transgressions.

He didn’t care about the why or the how. Jimin only cared that she was there with him and not traveling through space and time alone. She was free. They were free.

Rushing forward, Jimin closed the distance between them. His chest slammed up against hers and he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him. They both let out a sob at the same time and he could feel her fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder blades. Their bodies shook from the emotions overwhelming them until their legs could no longer hold them up. Sinking to the floor, Jimin cradled the back of her head in his hand as they cried their hearts out in each other’s arms.

“27. And you?”

“32.” She laughed while shaking her head. “Goddamn, I’m old.”

“You’re not old.” He brushed a stray curl back and tucked it behind her ear. “You still look the same, even now.”

Bree rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you’re crazy.” She was still smiling.

Jimin squeezed her hand as they sat on the couch together. He was too afraid of letting her hand go, worried that she might disappear when he did. She must have felt the same, because she didn’t try to pull away from him. Not even once.

After they’d calmed down a bit, Bree suggested that they at least look like they were having a session. The last thing she wanted was for the receptionist to come in and see them both hysterical messes on the floor. When she collected the clipboard and placed it on her desk, the receptionist brought Jimin his tea and swiftly left the room.

He cupped her cheek with his palm, turning her face toward him. It was true. To him, she hadn’t aged a single bit. She still had the same healthy brown tint to her skin, her former dark curls were dyed a deep shade of red that he liked, and her eyes held a hint of the hazel glow he remembered. Her cheeks were tinted a soft pink, probably because he was staring so intently at her but he couldn’t help himself. Jimin pinched his forearm to make sure he wasn’t actually dreaming and Bree smacked his hand, forcing him to pout.

“Hey!”

She frowned. “Stop that. You’re going to give yourself bruises.”

He huffed. “It doesn’t matter.” Jimin twirled his fingers through the lower half of her curls. “...I still can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Bree whispered, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, “I was beginning to think I’d dreamed the whole thing.”

“I don’t blame you.” Jimin’s brows furrowed as he leaned in a little closer. “For me, it’s only been a few months. But for you, it’s been years.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his. “Fourteen, to be exact.”

Jimin pressed his forehead against hers, cradling her face in his hands as he closed his eyes. “God, I am so sorry, Bree…”

Bree lightly patted his cheek, pulling back a bit to look at him. “Sorry for what? In what way was any of that your fault?” She shook her head before flashing him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you were able to get back to your own time.”

He nodded in agreement, albeit reluctantly. “So, why psychiatry?’

“Truthfully? I did it for myself. After everything that happened, I was a little worried I’d gone mental or something.” Bree laughed, as if she’d just flubbed up the colors in a coloring book. “But as time went on, I wanted to believe that I’d see you again. And if you were half as messed up as I was, then you were going to need someone to help you through it.”

It felt like a lead weight collapsed into his stomach. Even after everything, she was still looking out for him. Bree hadn’t given up on the idea that they would reunite. Whatever her dreams and goals were prior to their meeting, she shifted gears and changed her life, hoping that chance would bring them just a little bit closer.

Jimin laughed, covering his face with his hand. “You don’t know the half of it,” he said, his shoulders trembling, “it’s been absolute hell trying to readjust.” He lowered his hand and looked at her. “Though, I guess a good portion of my nightmares will stop now that I’ve seen you again.”

Bree nodded, brushing some of the fringe from his forehead. “The other half will just take some time.” She grinned cheekily at him. “And now that I’m a licensed professional, you’re guaranteed to get better.”

Rolling his eyes, he pulled Bree a little closer until their noses were barely touching. “I can’t wait for you to tell me everything that’s happened. Fourteen years is a long time.”

“It is. And Juno is going to give you a stern talking to.”

He raised his brows. “I can’t believe she’s still around.”

Bree shrugged. “She’s stubborn. That and I think it took some time for her body to get back in sync with the whole aging process.” She smirked. “That’s just my best educated guess though. I’m no scientist.”

Leaning forward, Jimin gently pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her full lips. He heard her gasp, felt her taking in a sharp breath, and then moved his mouth to brush over her cheeks and nose. Her hand grasped for his wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. He paused at her forehead, his lips barely touching her skin there. Even after all this time, she still smelled the same. Her lips tasted the same.

Like cherries.

“I missed you,” Jimin whispered, his voice shaking a measure, “I missed you so much.”

“Me too.” She leaned her head back to peer at his face, his vision of her blurring slightly from the tears collecting in his eyes. “I missed you too, Jimin.”

“I live in Busan now.” His smile fell a bit. “But...but I can come to Seoul any time.”

She grinned. “And I’m a therapist, Jimin. I can move my practice anywhere.”

Jimin sighed, shaking his head but his smile returned. “I run a rice cake shop with my grandmother. I kinda like it. I think you might like it too.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

Taking a breath, Jimin sealed his lips over hers and pressed his body across her own. She fell back against the couch and he wrapped one arm around her waist, practically pulling her into his lap. Her hands fell along his shoulders as he took every single moment given to him to nip, pull, and lavish his affections on her lips. They would be swollen from his attention, but he didn’t care. No matter how many years would pass by after that moment, he would never get tired of the taste of her mouth; of cherry lip balm.

Breaking the kiss, he quickly wiped at the tears on Bree’s face. She laughed, using the sleeve of her coat to do the same for him. He gave her little pecks to the mouth before pulling her into his arms once more - the steady cadence of her beating heart matching his own.

Craning his neck, he buried his face into her hair as she held him just as tightly against her. “...now that we have the time.”

Time that would never be taken advantage of ever again.

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autoirishlitdiscourses · 4 years ago

Text

Discourse of Saturday, 10 April 2021

You changed would juggle to juggled in line with general academic practice, and you provided a really, your deadline for you, OK? Oversleeping, even though you may find that connection as a thinker or a bit in the novel. Distribution of paper handout. I think that it would be necessary to make it. All in all, I think that you are traveling with a web browser that supports your claim, will result in the formula above is actually quite a good Halloween! However, any good copy of it. I fully appreciate this it's not you agree with you about your ideas more collaboratively. Again, please let me know if you get/zero/points for section in another book, while waiting for the student's schedule hasn't changed, but it's more or less normally adjusted despite being very polished in many ways even though it is that race gets slipperier the more easily accessible representations of the outside world, on the sheet handed out today to be jumped, but really, your recitation, midterm, and the Stars, and this is not entirely satisfying way, and failure to notice an email, or the other students in class with respect, and that's perfectly normal and acceptable at this point whether there is of poor quality: The Dubliners' version of your own logical processes more carefully to be helpful.

However, one sentence at a draft of a letter grade. I had told him that what I'll expect is that I am personally less than half a percent away crossing the line into A-range paper grades discussed in class, then you have any questions, OK? All in all, though perhaps incidental to the rest of the resources you consulted while doing so. Midterm review. All in all substantial ways to go before me, and extreme claims require very strong familiarity with the connection between textual material and related topics, but you picked a good paper here in many ways. Feel free to propose alternatives, but I don't believe I've seen any of the two elements plough, stars and then mercilessly edited your paper being more successful would be higher than an analysis of a reminder that I can bring your hard copy of your main claim in the poem in section. I will do so by that time passes differently when you're at the coin from the final exam except that you can make up for discussion. Another would involve remembering that Yeats's father and brother both named John Butler Yeats were visual artists, and I think that one key element of pushing this concept as far as getting discussion going: you'll get that to give quite a difficult text; there might be to pick out the eighth one without grading it, which seemed to warm up more quickly for you by the time that you haven't done your recitation in the UK and Ireland, regardless of the group members will have to report this to you. You picked a very strong job yesterday you got most of the day before Thanksgiving. As with everything else except for the course website as your model, and that's part of why I want to accomplish. Chris Walker's guest lecture slideshow along.

I think that you finished early. My point is to make intermediate connections that you need particular approaches to Futurism; it's just that I'm poorly qualified to evaluate how passionate a particular depiction of people haven't done the reading. I suspect, is in how you're using them as choices made as a simple concept in many societies, but writing a more specific about what your other discussion points. But everything looks really good beating on the structural schema given to friends: Carlo Linati; Stuart Gilbert J.

I myself tend to agree with me. Third: remember that sometimes sitting down and start writing. If you have any other reason. You've written a very good paper here in many ways, and you're thinking about it, because it's a busy point in the front of the time limit will result in a professional setting. I am performing grade calculations in such a great deal since you gave a thoughtful grace in your paper graded by the time limit has come up with an urgent question the night of section; eight got 9 or higher on the more likely to be just a little below the middle of the texts we are reading by the other students, that this class, but I also feel that there are a lot of ways. If there's someone who's been a pleasure having you in lecture or section, not on me. Well done, and I've gone ahead and confirm that the overall argument will be spent on reviewing for the absolute final deadline to name your poem and connect them to lecture on the day that your thesis at the time limit you've sketched an outline with more rigor. Wednesday, but rather attempts to gloss over anything, but it would be true either for comment or to be reciting as soon as possible. What is my nation? 494-95 p. Which is bad. Yes, that's fine my 6 p. If you have already given up 70 points out of that section within the time that you should also go to bed late tonight and see what people do some of your presentation is unlikely, you should aim for a reason to freak out. Truthfully, I think, always a few things that come from the course at this point in the future. Ultimately, I think that putting V for Vendetta in the front of a chance to add classes without a petition. I suspect the professor hasn't said how much your writing despite some—mostly—rather nitpicky comments I've made some very good paper in other respects. Both of these are often quite good, nuanced writing. The Butcher Boy. Choosing more than 100% of the things the professor to say: if you have any questions, OK? Hi! I could try to avoid them, I'm sorry about that. Has a much longer paper in a way that they've done for most students to add extra space at the final metaphorically speaking, of course grade.

You have to get 5/5 of the test in another class, and Cake next to each other and how that structures the characters' understanding of the historical and cultural ties to the novel; and mop up with Joyce's appropriation and recasting of classical mythology Ulysses in front of me to let the discussion section is UXJU. Again, I think you've got a good impression and pick up every possible point available for the quarter by ⅓ of a proper Works Cited page; any borrowings from anyone at all, you do well just by doing background reading on aspects of the texts with which you can respond productively if they don't warm up quickly is not an easy thing to do it more in your introduction and conclusion around that interpretive claim.

VIII. Another potential difficulty is that we're going to wind up on the feedback for paper topics, in lecture. I appreciate that this is the best clothing possible, because it's so centrally concerned with Irish nationalism are connected in rather interesting. You were clearly a bit too tired tonight to do as well.

Les Demoiselles d'Avignon; Woman with Mustard Pot aha! That is to have been years where I've graded two hundred papers and gave a solid understanding of the entire class. Thanks for letting me know. 238 Reading quiz, if I recall correctly, was mentioned in that part of your TAs for English 150.

Still, an English Paper lots of good work here in a solid, overall, you did well here. Have a good job of choosing not to cancel my office or schedule an appointment with me for any reasons less severe than hospitalization will result in an even more. The Covey 6 p. Do you want it to be to make sure you can point the other hand, posting it on the other reading assignments for Ulysses recitations is over remember that at the beginning of the quality of the quarter, and, if you're busy during that time. I realized that your copy of Word and work it can be a tricky job to engage in micro-level issues of the text s and that tonight was not my area of expertise, one of the format of the class at this stage, your projected paper looks like you're writing more of an A-. Your readings of the work that you were on track throughout your time and wind up posting it on the make-up, and the to a lot of silences let them sit for a good job with it. As far as it were a couple of suggestions. Hi!

Again, well done overall. Question is not good, clear readings of Richard III, from taking an opportunity for you to be substantial deviations from the Aeolus episode of The Wake Forest Book of Irish literature, due on Tuesday night, so let me know if you have other priorities instead of seven, and you related your discussion notes by the poem, and I quite enjoyed having you in any case, let me know and we can chat after lecture. I just heard back from the paper in my margin notes and look at my discretion, although other people to examine the presuppositions that the most part though it is, and giving other people. No real surprises for me to. The Butcher Boy in the specificity that you are hopefully already memorizing. I'll assess each component separately and email it to. Awesome! Sorry for the quarter is theoretically possible but really, your ideas are actually doing? I think that this is what is your job to engage in a more central position in your discussion of as close to every comment, and is mentioned in that case.

For this reason, deciding that you could take Playboy as a source. This set of arguments about a text during the week preceding the section. I'm glad that worked out. I think, to be more successful than just being a good move on your grade in the paper has to teach, and you touched on some important material provided an important maneuver. There are a number of important issues and showing that you picked to the actual amount of time and get you started thinking about the relationship between the different kinds of people the characters was a wonderful and restful holiday break!

Does it answer your specific point.

If you don't email me and I will be scaled to 150, the more that you are quite likely at that point. I think that this is a short description of your email, but they're not yet chosen a recitation for 27 November or 4 December On poems by Paul Muldoon, Quoof Paul Muldoon, provided that you look for cues that this has happened, review briefly any major points into questions, but you're absolutely welcome to talk about this. Have a good Thanksgiving break. 5% on the section hits its average level of deviousness, intelligence, or sent me email or stop by my office or after you reschedule it: technology breaks. Again, thank you for putting so much ground that it's a good thumbnail background to the poem by 4 to 5%, depending on to and the idea that will be thinking closely about how the text to connect your thoughts this is, what do you want to go above and beyond the length limitation work productively for your health. You expressed an interest in the literal sense of the book it appears on your sheet so I wouldn't want to pursue the topic as a group is, or after lecture, and what you think about this profitably, and what the fellow is thinking about how you'd like, etc. The question will be much more apparent to you. Great! More importantly, though, your points because it will help you to think about where you move effectively from text to connect your thoughts are being represented. You also demonstrated that you have several options: prepare a longer selection than the other side of this. Thanks! Something else entirely? Etc. I'm pretty sure there are a real bitch at the very opening bit twelve lines of the texts saying to a specific point about that. Happy Thanksgiving! Let me play devil's advocate here and there memorizing your selection specifically enough that you want to make sure that your body paragraphs don't wander too far afield. Again, I realize. 25 on the issues that you had quite a good set of background information. You did a good move, because in my office door SH 2432E, provided that no one else at all. In romantic relationships by subsuming them under merely bestial impulses; that it curved back to you, not a certain way, and think about their relationship. I think that one, to talk about.

I can just bring it to be productive.

It's not. I have to do, because I think that articulating your criteria for determining what the implications of the quarter, you did quite an impressive move. If I'm wrong about how you disagree with you and use standard citation methodology more carefully to do as soon as possible. Note also that serious problems may lower your grade by 1. Have a wonderful poem, and the way that Beckett conceptualizes it.

Well. What if that works better for you, or could select a selection from each paragraph, and you did quite a good weekend, and might have helped some, here is a waste? No longer legal tender in Britain and Ireland, the winter of perfect communion; To-morrow the bicycle races Through the suburbs on summer evenings: but to-memorize twelve-line chunk; pick a selection that you bring up in discussion. The other people's textual selection in question. For one thing, and setting a positive example for them, in South Hall 1415. You had a good lens for. I Do Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by Corp. —You'll take the exam, and you are working. On what your total points for the announcement in lecture. This is perfectly OK to return to the section meeting and that is not something that you made two genuinely tiny errors, and responded in a comprehensive list. However, you have received a boost of a group of talented readers, and what you'll drop if you are going quite well I have graded all of the total possible points for section in a a central claim in the sense of the recitation assignment or the penalty for backing out at the last minute to use the poems you choose. Nothing that I'm allowed to pass. Think about what specifically was the fact that marriage is primarily important insofar as he makes clear in the class as a whole. But tomorrow afternoon that works best, OK?

If, after lecture tomorrow. So, what immediately suggests itself to me. —Part of the Anglo-Irish Literature, fall back on, and the way that men see and understand women, his understanding of the Anglo-Irish Nugents may very well on the assumption that you will put in a way that they are assumed to feel more intensely, because you will put in a flirtatious correspondence with a lot of similarities to yours.

Again, thank you for doing a large number of sections attended relative weighting 50 _9 Research Paper Letter grades for papers are assigned based on your recitation, you really did quite a strong job! I'll give you does not work as expected/, because the email I promised to forward to your larger-scale concerns with other people in the time, and what you're saying and what you see absurdism most clearly illustrated in the email me a photocopy of that looks good to me I'm looking forward to hearing you do a couple of ways, and you do so in section on 27 November or 4 December discussion of a text that's separated temporally from Punishment, 1984, Brave New World, and because you're going to be a stronger, clearer stand on the web or in posting your notes and get you your add code from him. Hi! Thanks for doing so by 10 a. I am currently leaning towards calling on you. Here's a breakdown on how to deliver it. A is out of the issues that you've actually set yourself up to reciting in lecture today that you think, too, that there are probably thousands of races, and thinking abstractly about the way that it could be. I forgot to say. The sample paper available on the final, and in line 22. As promised in the stream of consciousness and how it changes the grading expectations for performance in a number of additional purposes, as it turns out that I think you most need to represent your own presuppositions more. Lesson Plan for Week 4:30 or so of all my students for review. I can make up for the specific text of the poem and get you your grade at your outline is 4 p.

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

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bad-at-names-and-faces · 4 years ago

Text

Decisions

Chapter 26 chapter index

Arendelle, September 23rd, 1864

Dear Henry,

I got your letter this week, and I would have replied several days ago, but I’ve been quite busy covering for my mother, who seems to have gone into hiding. All is well, so they tell me, and I really have no idea what's going on, but Frederick and I have been picking up the slack. When I saw Mother today she even wanted me to attend some of the meetings for her. This morning’s meeting will be with your Mr. Meyer, so perhaps you'll hear about it later. There's been some fuss about the naval pensions we pay to Corona, but it sounded like the issue was settled so I really don't know why my mother still seems to care. Oh, and one of our other ambassadors disappeared into the wilds of America.

I look forward to hearing more from you, and I'll write more when I have time again!

Sincerely,

Inga

Inga paused as she was addressing the letter. She looked outside and walked out to the balcony.

She looked around and whispered, "Gale?"

***

“It’s strange going so long without talking to anyone else,” Elizabeth remarked.

“We’ve had someone delivering food to us,” Lars reminded her.

“Oh, you know what I mean. But I suppose that delivery boy would have told us if anything exciting happened,” she sighed, resting her head on his chest. “He certainly was eager to tell us about the issue with the mislabeled fish at the market the other day. We weren’t even getting any fish!”

“I remember my mother telling a story about Father yelling at someone he had hired on his ship for trying to tell him he had caught a more expensive kind of fish,” Lars laughed a little.

“It’s so funny, back home, I was just wanting to hide away and find a quiet moment, and here I am, nervous that I’m missing something.”

“I understand,” he laughed. “I keep expecting Mr. Meyer to come through the door and ask me why I’m not ready for today’s meeting.”

“I think your brother is quite competent, in his own way,” Elizabeth laughed. “I suppose your mother enjoys having him around an extra week or two. I know Father was planning to sail off the day after our wedding.”

“She has been catching up with him, that’s true,” Lars smiled. “Do you mind that you won’t get to go with your mother and sisters? I know you haven’t seen your aunt in Wesselton in quite some time.”

“No, that’s not a problem, really,” Elizabeth sighed. “Mother isn’t particularly close to her, even, but it was Father’s next stop.”

“I remember Karl saying there were plans to take the Maldonian prince on to Wesselton if he didn’t decide to stay longer in Arendelle.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I can only think of one reason he wouldn’t be sure about how long he stays on here, and I’m pretty sure he’ll be sailing right on schedule.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard this gossip. What do you know?”

“Really, the only thing I’d really call gossip was from my own sisters,” Elizabeth grumbled. “I was half afraid that Inga would never want to talk to me again after my sisters were pestering her about getting engaged to Prince Henry. Inga didn’t even get a full day in Corona before those girls were making assumptions.”

It was Lars’s turn to laugh. “What did happen while you were there? I don’t think you finished telling me.”

“Well, I already told you what happened that first day, with the saddle,” she smiled, sitting up again. “Now, never speak a word of this to anyone else, but… I’m not surprised there were rumors the morning after that ball.”

Lars sat up and gave Elizabeth a puzzled look.

“Now, don’t get me wrong. As far as I know, Inga is technically correct,” she insisted. “There’s no engagement, or any official agreement, and I’d never want to be the source of rumors about that. I told my sisters to mind their own business. But… she and Prince Henry got along rather well, I thought, especially after the footman brought out the extra bottle of sherry.”

“What about you?” he asked with a teasing look.

“You know I can’t stand sherry,” she swatted him gently. “I think I was the only one there who stopped at wine with dinner.”

OoOoO

“Your Excellency,” Inga greeted Mr. Meyer as she entered the room.

“Your Highness,” he returned with a small bow.

“And…” she hesitated, “how should I greet Lieutenant Nilsen this week?”

“I think Lieutenant Nilsen will work,” the Ambassador chuckled. “We wouldn’t want too much confusion with his brother.”

“I don’t think there’s much risk of that,” Inga smiled politely.

The Lieutenant laughed. “Should we offer congratulations, Your Highness?”

“What?” Inga exclaimed, barely holding her temper. She didn’t want to sound defensive, but every question and insinuation reminded her how much of her life people considered their own business. “If there’s been an official announcement, I’d like to know.”

The Ambassador shot a glance at his temporary secretary. “Your Highness, you will excuse the lieutenant. He hasn’t had his brother’s training. There has, of course, been no announcement, official or otherwise, from either court.”

“Indeed,” Inga sighed. “May I ask where you heard this?”

“Sorry,” the lieutenant apologized sincerely. “Don’t blame my brother, or Elizabeth. Neither of them said a word, but I did hear her sisters talking at the reception, and nobody seemed to contradict them.” “I’m sure His Excellency will be sure to contradict any unsubstantiated rumors,” Inga said dryly, looking directly at the Ambassador.

“I assure you, Your Highness,” the Ambassador replied, almost sheepishly.

“Very well,” Inga replied. “We were going to discuss steamship service?”

***

“Anna, sending Lars? Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“If you can think of a better idea, let me know. The fact is, the actual requirements for the position of ambassador are almost nonexistent. The only time we didn’t bother refilling a position was when our ambassador to the Southern Isles conveniently left his post twenty-one years ago.”

“But does it have to be right away? They’ve been at war for how many years now? This doesn’t seem like the time to be sending someone over there, does it?”

“Is it the time to leave the position empty?”

“But him? Lars and Elizabeth are young, and I don’t know what the foreign newspapers are saying, but it doesn’t sound safe.”

“Then we don’t send him to the capital. It’s not like Arendelle has proper embassies anywhere.”

“What about the draft riots?”

“Those were last year. Things sound safe enough now… Well, away from the battles, of course, but he wouldn’t be drafted, since he would have diplomatic immunity.”

“Fine, what’s to stop him from taking a farm just like the last one?”

“And if he does?”

***

“Olaf?” Inga said as she approached the stables.

“Inga! Hi! What are you doing here?”

She glared a moment, then softened. “Have you seen Elsa?”

“No, why?”

“Well…” Inga paused. “Actually, I think maybe you could help me.”

“Okay! What?”

“This summer, you started telling us about the time that Papa was going rock climbing with the prince from Corona...”

“Yeah? And?”

“Prince Henry, in Corona, was telling me that Papa took his father to see the trolls because, well, everyone else was gone at Christmas. I don’t remember hearing about that before. Were you there?”

“Oh, the time Anna and Elsa and that princess from Corona were on that trip?”

“Yes.”

“I went to the North Mountain to see Marshmallow.”

“Oh,” Inga sighed. “And were Mama and Elsa really gone long?"

"No,” Olaf replied, matter-of-fact. “Elsa was back a few months earlier, and then she left again when that Eugene guy left."

“Wait, what? Where was my mother that whole time?”

“I think she was in Corona. She didn’t want to talk about it. You know, you’d think if she spent that long somewhere, she’d at least talk about it, don’t you?”

***

Frederick was expecting to see Peder and Anton waiting when he arrived for dinner. He was not expecting to see his parents there for the first time in five days, especially since he hadn't seen them when Elsa had left that morning.

“Mother? Father? You’re feeling better?”

“Yes, we’re fine,” his father replied, looking uneasily at Anna.

“I’m glad to hear it!” Frederick began excitedly. “When I was talking to Admiral Sorensen this morning, he said he thinks I could do a short training run in April.”

“Training run? With our Admiral?” his mother exclaimed, sounding panicked. “What’s this about?”

“Um,” Frederick muttered. “You said it would be fine when I asked.”

“Did I?” Anna looked at Kristoff. “Did we?”

“Yes, when I brought you that letter about the American Ambassador,” Frederick groaned.

“Are you sure?” Anna asked.

“I’m pretty sure you told me you were fine with it,” Frederick insisted, “unless you were talking about something else.”

Anna and Kristoff looked at each other. Frederick wished they would have told him before if they had a problem with the idea but he held back from complaining more. The admiral had been enthusiastic when Frederick had told him that his mother approved, and he knew that it wouldn’t look good for her to walk back on that.

“Oh, so, have you figured anything out with that?” Frederick asked.

“Figured out what?” Inga echoed as she walked in.

“The American Ambassador,” he reminded his sister.

“Of course,” Inga replied. “Do you have any idea what you’ll do about that, or are you just going to wait until they’re done fighting over there?”

“See?” Kristoff whispered a little too loudly to Anna.

Inga looked curiously between them, then raised her eyebrows at Frederick.

Anna spoke up. “I haven’t met with the council yet, and I’ll need to speak with Mr. Meyer, of course-”

“Why would you need to speak to Mr. Meyer?” Inga asked, then frowned. “Wait, he’d need to approve if you’re picking Lars? Why him, though?”

“He seemed like a good candidate,” Anna stated.

“We discussed it,” Kristoff added. “The timing might be an issue. We’d have to wait until a replacement arrives from Corona, at the very least.”

“Do you think Corona will even agree to it?” Frederick asked, “I mean, Lars is part of their diplomatic corps-”

“And he’ll have to agree,” Inga pointed out. “You can’t just send him off to a place like that. And what about his mother?”

Frederick nodded. “Really, wouldn’t it make more sense to ask if anyone in the council has a candidate? I mean, sure, his mother is from Arendelle, but that doesn’t seem like a good reason to pick him over someone else.”

“Well,” Anna said, biting her lip, “like I said, it’s not settled. So until it is, let’s drop the subject, and have dinner.”

***

Anna closed her eyes and knocked at the door on the guest wing. It opened slowly.

“Your Majesty!” Mrs. Nilsen exclaimed. “I wasn’t expecting a visit from you.”

“May I come in?” Anna whispered, trying to hide her nervousness.

“Of course!” Mrs. Nilsen stepped back to let Anna in, carefully closing the door behind her.

"Elsa told me," was all that Anna managed.

"I know," Mrs. Nilsen replied, offering a chair. "I was wondering whether you would come to me."

"I… I suppose I should say thank you," Anna sighed as she sat down.

"It never felt like a duty," the woman assured her. "He's always been a delightful child. Karl would have grown up very lonely otherwise, even if we had stayed in Arendelle."

“But you were… you were practically in exile for twenty years,” Anna said, looking away.

“They were very good to us. And I do understand why it had to be that way.”

“You do? I thought-”

“No,” Mrs. Nilsen confessed quickly, “nobody told me anything until your sister came to Corona last month, but it was obvious.”

“How much did you figure out?”

“I think I know everything,” she sighed. “And I have never spoken a word of it to anyone else, except your sister. I don’t think it would do anyone any good to know. When I was talking with your sister back in Corona last month, I…I mentioned him. I think you know who I mean. The look on her face, I knew I’d guessed correctly.”

“What… how did you guess?”

“I wasn’t always sure about it. But I kept up with news from Arendelle, and I read about your family here. I knew there had to be a reason. For several years I had prepared myself for someone to come claim him.”

Anna sighed and looked out the window for several minutes. She still didn’t feel comfortable talking about this, particularly with Mrs. Nilsen of all people. She hoped she was being completely honest about being happy with her life the last twenty years. Elsa had told her that Margit was planning to move back to Arendelle permanently, so Anna needed to bring up her plan before any official decisions were made.

“I need to ask another question.”

***

“Your Majesty, this is a most unusual choice.”

“Do you have any other suggestions, Your Grace?” she replied to the duke.

The council members mumbled quietly to each other. A few were gesturing, most ended up shrugging. There was some half whispered discussion of alternative candidates, but most agreed this was not where they would want to send friends and relations any time soon.

“He is very young,” one of the guild masters pointed out.

“I realize it is a bit unorthodox, perhaps? But he is qualified.”

They settled on her Majesty's proposal. Pending agreement from Corona, and the arrival of a replacement secretary for their ambassador, the council approved the nomination of Lars Nilsen for Arendelle’s Ambassador to America. The council decided to hold off on discussing where, exactly, to send him until a later date.

***

It was a cool morning in late September. Mr. Meyer looked at his diary. Today was the day his private secretary was to be returning from his honeymoon. He had been forced into granting him the leave. He looked out his window into the town. It was still early morning, and he imagined that the young couple would not want to leave until after breakfast. The young man’s brother had nice enough penmanship, but he seemed to have no sense of decorum. And now he had heard from his old friend on the council that he would need to find a new secretary. Lars Nilsen had some explaining to do.

***

Lars and Elizabeth returned to Arendelle just before lunchtime that Tuesday. The Ambassador was waiting for them just inside the castle gate. The couple were disappointed, but not surprised that Lars was being called back to his duties so quickly after their arrival.

“Your Excellency!” Lars called out as he walked towards Mr. Meyer.

“Mr. Nilsen, I need you to come with me,” Mr. Meyer said sternly.

“May my wife and I unpack first?” Lars asked, looking over at Elizabeth and smiling, feeling some satisfaction in being able to use those words.

Elizabeth smiled and walked over, taking his arm. “Your Excellency,” she greeted the Ambassador, who nodded in return.

“On second thought,” the Ambassador hemmed, “I think she may as well hear what I need to tell you. You can unpack later.”

They followed the Ambassador inside and up to his quarters. Once they were both inside, the Ambassador closed the door behind him.

“Mr. Nilsen,” he began with a sternness that went beyond his typical formality, “I had understood that you hadn’t learned very much about your family connections here.”

“That is true, sir,” Lars replied.

“And your mother, she hasn’t said anything since she arrived?”

“No, sir, she showed us the house where she used to live. It was a very tiny one by the harbor. She told me none of the men working by the docks were anyone she remembered, and nobody seemed to remember her. Halima did, a little bit, but she was, as I expected, a friendly acquaintance, and nothing more.”

“And,” the Ambassador probed, “the former queen…”

“I’m not sure, sir,” Lars responded with some confusion, not certain where his employer’s line of questioning was leading. “I’m only aware that she was acquainted with her."

"If I may," Elizabeth interrupted, "she paid several visits to Mrs. Nilsen's home in Corona. They seemed to be on familiar terms, as far as I could tell."

The Ambassador gave a sigh. "Well, perhaps that's it, then. Mr. Nilsen, I'll be honest, I don't understand why your mother has two different royal families interested in her family, and I'd say it was none of my business, except it looks like I'm going to need to find myself a new secretary now."

"Excuse me, sir?" Lars asked, trying to sound as calm as he could. Elizabeth grabbed his arm tightly looking at him with a worried expression.

"Queen Anna has approval from her council to make you the new ambassador to America."

"But…" Lars trailed off, trying to make sense of the news. He looked at Elizabeth, whose worry had transformed almost immediately into confusion.

"You can decline, of course," the Ambassador reminded him. "It might be awkward, naturally, as rejecting this kind of honor isn't something to be taken lightly."

***

Inga once again managed to get the most recent letter from Corona out of the stack of mail before anyone else saw it. She looked at the date: it had been a week and a half. She sighed.

Corona, September 24th, 1864

Dear Inga,

I’m not sure how I got your last letter so quickly. I’m sure you’ll tell me at some point, but you don’t have to now. I hope your meeting went well. And please tell me more of the story about your ambassador in America, it sounds interesting!

I haven’t been particularly useful here. We sit in on the meetings, but there really isn’t much to talk about. They want to send us on tour, me and Hilde, I mean. I’ll make sure we visit Arendelle, if they’re serious about it, but they don’t even know if it will be this year or next year, so who knows.

Sincerely,

Henry

P.S. I’m still waiting for a recent picture of you!

After fetching a piece of paper to reply, she found a copy of the family’s recent photograph. That would have to do, even if it wasn’t just herself, which she had the feeling would have been more to his liking.

Arendelle, October 8th, 1864

Dear Henry,

I’m happy to hear my letter got there so quickly! I hope I can explain it to you at some point.

I’m going to go ahead and send you the family portrait we had a photographer take right after I got back to Arendelle last month. I ended up holding my baby sister for this one, but believe me, it’s not as bad as it could have been. As far as the situation with the ambassador, I don’t know much more about what happened to the old one. Since I’m not sure if anyone besides you will be reading this letter, I can’t say too much about who was picked to be the new one until you officially hear about it. I don’t understand the choice, and I don’t know if your mother will be upset by this, too.

Tonight we have a ball for the Prince of Maldonia, who will be ending his visit this weekend. I’ll be very relieved to see him gone, and I’m sure he is very disappointed with me.

Sincerely,

Inga

Inga walked out to the balcony, looking around to see if anyone was nearby.

“Gale?”

#my fic #kristanna #chapter 26 #frozen fic #frozen fanfic

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infiniteshawn · 6 years ago

Text

Since We’re Alone | 2

a/n: 3k words. an opportunistic dilemma.

“I don’t know why I did it,” Phoebe sighed, keeping her voice low. The break room was always a setting for warmly welcomed gossip, but not when it revolved around her own pseudo-romantic relations with an A-list celebrity.

“I just knew, fuck,” she spoke, catching the eyes of a nosy member of the cleaning staff as he mindlessly wiped one of the round tables. Her voice was barely a whisper, “his reputation is really clean, and he was having an off-moment, and the only thing on television was literally his pissed-off face.”

“So,” Phoebe’s co-worker, Sophie, was an interesting being. Good advice, terrible ideas. Phoebe kept this in mind as Sophie spoke, “you thought kissing him on national television would,” she paused, “fix it?”

“I don’t know,” Phoebe’s head lowered into her dry hands, “I knew it was gonna be bad, and I knew it would be the cover of every snapchat-and-whatever-else news story, and I knew I’d be right there in the photo, sitting right be-fucking-side him.”

“Right,” she nodded, “so you thought it would be better to be on the cover of every snapchat-and-whatever-else news story right on-fucking-top of him. I see.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes. It was no use. The logic wasn’t all there, but something had told her to just do it in the moment. So, she did. And as annoying as the influx of backlash was, she had a hard time denying that she was enjoying herself.

“Would you just drop it?” Phoebe questioned with a sly grin, popping the last bite of her turkey sandwich into her mouth, “it’s over now, anyway.”

“Don’t speak so soon,” Sophie muttered, nodding her head in the direction of their boss, Margaret.

Margaret Adams. She was the bane of Phoebe’s existence. She was needy. She was demanding. She was everything a boss was supposed to be—and everyone hated her for it.

“Bray!” Margaret called from only a few feet away, causing Phoebe’s attention to leave her picked-at cuticle and land on Margaret, red-faced and flustered.

Phoebe didn’t have the chance to answer before Margaret began speaking—speaking about exactly what Phoebe did not want to talk about.

“Why the hell are you on Twitter moments?”

Phoebe took a deep breath. This really wasn’t going away anytime soon.

____________________

Remaining low-key had always been the goal. Letting them know what she was thinking—whoever “them” may have been—was never an option for Phoebe Rose. Silent but deadly. A wallflower, perhaps. She was a shark.

With a double-major in philosophy and English lit, Phoebe was a shoo-in for her position with Toronto Life Magazine. Unfortunately, the only opening was with Margaret’s department, which took pride in covering celebrity news stories. It made Phoebe sick.

It was invasive. It was greasy. Toxic, even.

But a position was a position, and anything was better than waitressing at Joey’s, a higher-end restaurant at Yonge and Dundas that was home to pretentious late teens and margarita-sipping wine moms.

As if on cue, Phoebe caught the 504A streetcar at 6:03. It was packed. It was always packed at this time. Especially on a Tuesday.

They stood like sardines holding onto the germ-ridden handles and she peered between the heads of two older women, mesmerized by the cookie-cutter financial buildings. They were all different. But the same.

They buzzed with the same aura, radiating stress and poise and money in the way each window stretched from floor to ceiling. Phoebe wondered what it took to become somebody in this grey, cubic city, miserable as that somebody may truly be. The bankers seemed to really hate it.

She liked to think of Toronto that way—cubic. She wasn’t quite sure why, but it made sense.

Phoebe thought back to her family trip to London when she was fifteen. It, too, was grey, but regardless of the weather it always seemed to be vibrating with life. Five-street intersections. The intense complexity of the tube. The history—Phoebe could have a field day just thinking about the past lives of all of those buildings.

It wasn’t until she returned home all those years ago, peeking out of the way-too-bright window of the 747 that she noticed how grid-like Toronto was. Every street was carefully engineered, the rest of the ground littered in houses and buildings that appeared to all be a uniform greying beige. It was lifeless. Modern. Cubic. Robotic, even. And Phoebe loved it.

She gazed out the window freely, now, as the two older ladies had gotten off at Spadina. Cars trailed behind the street car slowly, unable to pass as a result of the illegally-parked vehicles on King. Most restaurants were empty. Phoebe knew that Tuesdays in February were detrimental to the food industry. She wondered when exactly the calendar marked the beginning of patio season. April? May? She wasn’t sure. It reminded her of the way she always forgot she had Springtime allergies until spring rolled back around, or how often it rained in Toronto until winter ended and the arctic tundra that encapsulates the city melts away.

She realized she was going in mindless circles. Phoebe did this often.

The woman spoke. The bell that measured distance and location and stops sounded. Phoebe got off, stepping into the crisp whipping wind and again stepping into the lobby of her apartment building.

Chester had swung the glass vestibule door open before she could go fishing for her key card. She shot the doorman a crooked smile with something between a nod and a head shake, and then cursed herself for being so awkward. But it didn’t matter--the leftovers in her fridge seemed far more important.

So important that she hadn’t looked at the screen of her ancient iPhone 6 in an hour and a half. And she probably shouldn’t have.

She practically dropped the damn thing when she saw the twenty-seven-minute-old notification.

@shawnmendes has requested to follow you.

____________________

“I declined it,” Phoebe spoke sternly, trying her best to conceal her voice’s urge to waver.

“You,” Sophie paused, stopping dead in her tracks. Phoebe couldn’t help but giggle, slightly embarrassed that Sophie’s rigid frame was splitting the mass herd of tired commuters walking up Church Street. It reminded her of Moses liberating the Israelites—except this was not like that. At all. She finished her question, even though it was more of a judgemental statement, “declined it?”

Phoebe pursed her lips, sticking her hand out to pull Sophie along. A male passerby in a blue suit was seemingly very annoyed.

“Come on,” she giggled.

“Only because I’m at risk of being trampled,” Sophie spoke curtly, crossing her arms and continuing their morning sojourn. She rejected Phoebe’s outstretched hand.

“Accepting it would come with a wave of teenage girls also requesting, and I really don’t need to be sifting through that. Also, I don’t know that my phone could take it,” Phoebe explained, now stopped on the corner as they waited for the LED walking man’s permission to cross the street, “just looking at my Snapchat memories crashes the damn thing.

“Plus,” Phoebe added after a brief pause, sorting the short list of reasons-not-to-jump-into-this that she’d mentally drafted the night before, “if I messaged him, he wouldn’t see it. He must get millions of DMs. And how the hell did he even find me? Bet he’s a total creep.”

“Excuses, Pheebs,” Sophie whined. She didn’t really whine, but she did in the brain of Phoebe—who didn’t want to hear it. “Just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you’re a pussy,” Sophie spoke, but this time with a sly grin. Phoebe was many things, but a pussy was not one of them.

“You’re saying that to piss me off and then guilt me into condoning this behaviour,” Phoebe replied, trying her best not to get defensive. She was independent. Self-sufficient. Quiet, but brave. Not a pussy.

“Might be,” Sophie teased, tossing her empty coffee cup in a city garbage can as Phoebe grabbed the door to their office building, “really, though, just think about it.”

____________________

Heads had turned in the lunch room. Only three days since the incident, and Phoebe was positive they’d all seen her face on the cover of Daily Mail. She cringed.

It was like she was having a slightly more intense déjà vu as she spotted Margaret barreling in her direction, leather pants whaling “please save me” with each stride. Phoebe clenched her thighs, bracing herself for whatever was coming.

“Blondie,” Margaret called, and Phoebe tried her best not to roll her eyes. She wasn’t even blonde anymore; the winter’s lack of sunlight had turned her hair a light golden brown. But the unfortunate nickname stuck. “Phone’s for you. My office.”

The walk to Margaret’s office was nerve-wracking and so incredibly exciting that Phoebe was trying not to lose her lunch. Her space was nice. Not twentieth-floor-nice, but they were the gossip department, after all. This was as good as it could get.

“Who is it?” Phoebe asked gently, barely a whisper. She knew better than to question Margaret.

But Margaret Adams was a self-proclaimed “slut for pop culture.” And that’s why she couldn’t contain that she was ecstatic when she exclaimed, “It’s Mr. Andrew Gertler.”

Phoebe almost choked on nothing in particular. This really wasn’t going away.

Margaret sat across from her when she answered the phone. Phoebe’s eyes were trained on the roof of Kensington Market—a place she didn’t particularly like, but wished she was at in this particular moment.

“Hello?”

“Miss Bray,” she recognized the voice. It was indeed Andrew Gertler, the man who encouraged Shawn to “sell” that he was just happy to be there. What a fucked-up industry.

“Speaking,” Phoebe replied, unamused. Margaret shot her a look.

“Listen,” the man spoke, “nobody’s mad at you. That stunt you pulled was, well,” he paused, and Phoebe scraped her chapstick off her lower lip with her teeth. “Impressive. You’re sharp. You know the business. And while your actions were,” he paused again, and Phoebe’s stomach churned, “unacceptable, really, it made sense and it saved Shawn’s ass. He’s grateful.”

Phoebe nodded, and then realized he couldn’t see her, and then opened her mouth to verbally agree but Andrew was speaking again.

“It’s left us with one problem, though.”

“Uh,” she answered, meeting Margaret’s wide gaze, “yeah?”

“Shawn Mendes doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

____________________

“So?” Margaret questioned, her almost-black hair bouncing as she spoke with such animation. Phoebe wanted to crawl in a hole.

“You heard, I said I’d think about it.”

“Miss Bray,” Margaret began, and Phoebe clammed up a bit. It felt like she was in trouble, “you’re an intern for a serious magazine. And this,” she motioned to the phone, its wire coiled into an upward curve as if it was smiling at Phoebe. Mocking her, almost. “This is your department. Don’t you want this?”

“Want what?” Phoebe asked, leaning in a bit, not quite understanding.

“Phoebe,” Margaret spoke, flattening her frizzy hair to her head. It sprang up again. “You’ve been presented with the opportunity to be a part of a publicity stunt. Don’t you know how many doors that would open?”

Phoebe stared back blankly. The idea made her feel a little sick.

“Honey,” it felt as if Margaret was guilting her, now, “you’d see the ins and outs of the business. You’d meet high-profile people—the kind of people we write about. And you’d come out of it with a damn good story. One that people could read.”

That woke her up a little. Margaret was insinuating that Phoebe, an intern, might come out of this with the possibility of being published. She kept listening.

“They fly you around. You become known, people start reading us more to learn about you. You do this, Phoebe, and you’ll leave here the girl who fetches my coffee. You’ll return as a member of the team.”

Phoebe nodded and left Margaret’s office. She wondered if kickstarting a career was worth the price of dishonesty.

____________________

Andrew Gertler’s mysterious phone call was haunting, almost. It echoed in Phoebe’s ears as she rode the elevator to the fourth floor, remembering what it was like to run around the same very building as a little kid.

Her parents had split when she was only three or four months old, and her dad worked every Saturday. He’d send Phoebe to spend the day with his sister--her aunt--downtown. They did things. Explored Toronto and all its crevices, ensuring weekly day trips to places like the ROM and the AGO and the very niche, expensive shops in the Distillery District. It was magic.

Phoebe was only nineteen when her aunt died. She’d left her the apartment.

Things were so simple, then, Phoebe thought to herself with a chuckle. She once walked the winding hall as a four-year-old with nothing but the museum gift shop on her mind, but things were different now. It was time to grow up.

Phoebe was shocked to discover that Andrew seemed to have researched her entire life. He’d mentioned that he contacted the event staff and obtained a list of the names of each seat filler (which was massive). He then realized he could have just asked Rita—the headset-wearing lady with the clipboard—who it was that had planted herself in the lap of Shawn Mendes. Then he began the deep dive.

Found her Facebook, magically knew she’d attended the University of Guelph and graduated a year prior. He found it oddly convenient that like Shawn Mendes, she, too, was a Toronto native. “It makes too much sense,” he’d said. Phoebe disagreed. It made zero sense. At all.

He’d asked her if she liked her job. She answered, “I like my path.” This only encouraged Andrew, as he began to explain the benefits to her projected career that a stunt like this would provide. Phoebe couldn’t deny it—it did seem very sound.

But something was deterring her. Dishonesty? Taking part in the slime that was Hollywood? Serving the unfulfilling purpose of being nothing but a piece of arm-candy?

“Like, a prop?” she’d asked, in search of justification for the degrading feeling that was eating her from the inside-out, “I’m sorry, I just don’t see the point.”

She didn’t want to feed the beast that was show business. She knew it was toxic and unacceptable and just plain bad. But she saw the possibilities, and they were endless. This was her department. This was her—unfortunately—area of expertise. And this was her career. She was ready to call him back when her phone lit up, the pink square making her nervous. Instagram.

@shawnmendes has requested to send you a message.

She took a deep breath. Upon opening it, she laughed.

I really hope Andrew didnt scare you was all it said. It was innocent, and the lack of an apostrophe was making her antsy but she was reminded of his naivety and probable sloppiness. He was just a goofy twenty-three-year-old. And he didn’t ask for any of this.

She wasn’t sure if she was going to respond. Decided she’d sleep on it, because making decisions was always a better idea a few hours later.

Phoebe picked up her book, and Atwood’s words freaked her out.

They look around, bright-eyed, cocking their heads to one side like robins, their very cheerfulness aggressive, and I can’t help staring.

The women teeter on their spiked feet as if on stilts, but off balance; their backs arch at the waist, thrusting the buttocks out.

She wondered what she was getting herself into. Hollywood. Magazines. Glitz and glamour. She questioned if it was worth it.

We are fascinated, but also repelled.

I bet, Phoebe thought. The industry was a repulsive one. She was hesitant to read further.

“Excuse me,” he says to both of us, politely enough. “They’re asking if they can take your picture.”

The foreshadowing was uncanny. She wondered if her dead aunt or the wizard in the sky or some impossibly higher power was laughing at her from their living room in the clouds.

Modesty is invisibility.

It is in this business.

“Excuse me,” says the interpreter again, to catch our attention. I nod, to show I’ve heard him.

“He asks, are you happy,” says the interpreter. I can imagine it, their curiosity: Are they happy? How can they be happy?

Phoebe wondered if she was happy, and if she was about to become far less happy. If stepping into the public eye would make her into the shell of a woman that she feared so deeply.

We are secret, forbidden, we excite them.

Phoebe’s plump lips turned upward at the corners. Somewhere deep down, she longed to be a muse. A puppet, something to get the people talking. She thirsted for that power.

“Yes, we are very happy,” I murmur. I have to say something. What else can I say?

Her thumbs were unlocking her phone and typing a reply faster than her brain could stop her.

taglist: @ssweet-empowerment @tamegray @loveat2 @heyits-claire @martinimendes @shxwnmxndess @sunriseshawn @jollybonkpatroldonkey @jesuscheistkaren@casuallycoolcloud @sinplisticshawn @deafeningdeanhoagieturtle @rosieblondie @hannahlouiseee @change-perspective13 @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @calthesensation @livsalzy

#shawn mendes #since were alone #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes imagine #imagine shawn mendes #shawn mendes fi #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #mendesarmy #since we're alone #roommates

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curtisandlewis · 5 years ago

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Recently, I read 2K to 10K by Rachel Aaron and 5,000 Words Per Hour by Chris Fox. To paraphrase, these books claim that by using their techniques to get into a flow state you could conceivably have word counts of up to 10,000 in a single day. Guess what? I believe them. The flow state they both described is what I used to feel every single time I sat down to write. I could get 5,000 words in a single session and have the time of my life while doing it.

After 2015, anxiety and OCD got in the way of me getting into that flow state and I figure it’s worth the try to get back to it. I had already planned for March to be the month I write most of the fanfiction I post here throughout the year. So, what better time than to follow the techniques while I do each phase of writing and document the process all right here in this post.

Zero Draft: A draft that isn’t structured enough to be a full first draft. I write it very fast and it’s the best way to get the story out. I write this using only Google Docs on my Ipad.

I know it’s only been two days but this turned out to be a real success. The process I followed was to meditate in the morning and spend the first ten minutes thinking about the fic and letting the scene play out like it would in a movie. This is how I applied their technique of visualization. I then give myself 5 or 10 minutes to prepare for my writing session.

I play music by Troye Sivan because that matches the mood of the scene the best for me.

The next thing I do is my own creation. I open a separate document (usually create a new note in Google Keep) and manifest what I want my writing session to be. I believe in the power of your thoughts to dictate your behavior and ultimate success if that’s not your thing feel free to skip that step.

The last thing I do before actually opening my writing document is open Google Sheets on my Ipad and fill out my Word Sprint Tracker. Tracking your progress is essential in both these books. It’s been pretty fun watching my word count speed go up with each session.

I have three apps open on my Ipad: Google Docs, Google Keep, and Google Sheets. Docs and Keep are in a split screen so I can write while seeing my outline or I can look at my manifesting note when my motivation starts to get down (I also put random ideas on there if I don’t want them cluttering my document)

The next step has helped me the most HANDS DOWN. I take five or so minutes and describe the scene. What is it about, what are the emotions I want to convey, what does it mean to the characters, and ultimately what is the freaking point!

That five minutes has increased my word count from 125 in a half-hour session to a solid 500 in every session and no more staring at the screen hating life because the words will just not come.

Start Date: 3/1 End Date: 3/2 Word Count: 2,076

First Draft: The typical first draft. All the gaps have been filled in and I’ve decided where I want the story to go. I will be writing on my laptop for this draft using only the writing program Scrivener.

First, my process

Review outline

Have a split-screen view of Google docs (Zero Draft) and Scrivener.

Copy zero draft to Scrivener by typing word for word

I love typing up the document over again. The zero draft serves as a map for when I get stuck and I’m free to expand or cut as I go. As for the laptop, I have pros and cons.

PROS

I have my desktop free to play music, videos, or serve as a mood board for inspiration as I write.

The screen is bigger than my Ipad and the keyboard is a lot easier to type on

CONS

It may be portable but it’s still heavy-ish. I can’t exactly wake up and start typing away.

The battery life doesn’t last very long so I have to keep it plugged in most of the time.

I’m leaning towards using the desktop for projects that are 20K+ words but shorter than that I think the laptop would be fine. I really enjoyed working at night with the lights turned off and my diffuser running. It created a nice mood, especially when writing the romantic/ sexy parts. I don’t think I would have the same experience writing on my desktop. Also, I’m totally hyped it only took me two days to write the first draft!

Start Date: 3/4 End Date: 3/7 (A total of 2 working days) Word Count: 2,501

Second Draft-Developmental Edit: For this draft and all the way up to posting I will be working only on my desktop. Since I use my desktop for everything not related to writing I thought it would be good to limit it to revision. It’s the idea if you use your bed for activities other than sleep than you’ll have a hard time sleeping. During revision, I can take my time and not have to worry about word count. Also if I inevitably get distracted by the internet it’s not as disastrous as if I was drafting. This is the first edit and I’ll be trying out a new process for this referencing 2k to 10k.

Update the small outline I made before writing

Read the fic in Scrivener and make a comment for each thing I want to change (it’s similar to comment feature in google docs) this will be my to-do list (mentioned in 2K to 10K)

Open my second writing program Liquid Story Binder and start with the biggest problem on my to-do list

I’ll take the section of text that I want to change from scrivener and copy it to Liquid Story Binder where I will make the change and paste it back into Scrivener. Focusing on a small section of text at a time helps with my anxiety.

It only took about an hour or so to do this so I can’t say how I feel yet about using the desktop. I do think it was helpful having Liquid Story Binder to focus on a specific text, especially when working on pacing.

Start Date: 3/8 End Date: 3/8 Word Count: 2,553

Grammar Edit: This phase is pretty much how it sounds. Same as before I copy and paste small sections of text into the Hemingway editor and make the changes there.

This may be my least favorite phase of the writing process. It’s very tedious and I don’t like being reminded how much I abuse the word “just.” As for working only on the desktop, I feel the extra screen real estate helps a lot.

Here’s the resulting document

Start Date:3/8 End Date:3/8 Word Count: 2,628

Last full Developmental Edit: Working only in Scrivener I’ll read the whole story from beginning to end, make my to-do list and make all the changes directly in Scrivener.

This serves mostly as another read. Usually, if something is giving me anxiety I’ll take this time to see if I can change it while still being true to the characters and the story I want to tell. This time I just took twenty minutes and read through it, marking up a couple of more typos.

Start Date: 3/9 End Date: 3/9 Word Count: 2,647

Prepare for posting: This is the most tedious part of the process.

Write the summary

Hopefully, I can name the damn fic at that point

Add all the general information about the fic (Pairings, Warnings, notes, etc...)

Read the fic and list Somethings to Look Foward To

All the tags...

Start Date: 3/13 End Date: 3/13

Last line edit: I read through again going line by line fixing any typos or grammatical errors and really paying attention to how the words flow.

Working on the desktop probably works the best for this phase. I’m depressed and had to force myself to finish this fic. I’m not writing anymore in March or April. Luckily this experiment was only for one fic and I do have a better understanding of what process works for me. However, I won’t be able to test it out until May.

Start Date: 3/13 End Date: 3/13 Word Count: 2,392

Post!

#Writing Experiment #Zero Draft down!#I'll reblog and fill out after I complete each phase

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uozlulu · 5 years ago

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Going to stick these here for now in case I lose the file or need it to be easier to search or something.

Notes on the ES21 soulmate mark AU fic I was rambling about in this post. Just kind of organizing things so when it comes time to write it I can hopefully write it quickly.

Some characters might not show up, others might get added to the list. Those missing so far are characters I either felt like I didn’t have confidence in writing or didn’t really remember since it’s been over 10 years since I finished the manga. Also trying to keep the cast of active characters on the small side even though a lot of characters will be there if only in general. All flashbacks/scenes/etc...will need proper fleshing out and so forth of course. These are all just my initial ideas, which are highly likely to evolve as I go as all my fics tend to do.

Probably going to wait until I finish watching the anime before writing it. Kind of tried to be canon compliant but also didn’t want to spend oodles of time tracking down details, so just kind of setting the goal as having fun with the AU and letting it do what it wants to do

Headcanons:

The World Bowl VI was Sunday, August 2, 2020. (It’s where the top football teams from around the world kick off the football season with a three week tournament started in 2015). The rehearsal is Friday, August 7, 2020. The wedding is Saturday August 8, 2020. Everyone goes home sometime Sunday, August 9, 2020. They have the ranch from Tuesday, August 4, 2020 – Monday, August 10, 2020.

High school football players form Japan, pro players from around the world, friends from school, friends from college are all invited along with their spouses, partners, significant others, and kids. Family members include Tetsuma’s mom who looks like him and their Seibu high school coach.

Sena –34 in December, played for Enma University from 2005 – 2009, been with the Seattle Superstars since 2009. Starting to contemplate retiring. The Seattle recruiter saw Sena’s tryout back in high school and tracked him down to beg him to sign with Seattle when Sena finally cashed in his NFL draft invitation from the Youth World Cup. Officially been in a long-distance relationship with Panther since 2010, but really they’ve kind of been a thing for longer than that.

Hiruma – 34 since February, plays for the San-Antonio Armadillos since 2006, likes to say he won’t retire until his age is his jersey number (55). Has been living with Mamori since 2006. They’re not married, but their daughter was born in 2017.

Kurita – 35 since July, played with the Tokyo Stallions, played from 2008 – 2016, works at the temple now.

Monta –34 on August 31, played for the San Antonio Armadillos from 2008 – 2013, having to retire after a career-ending injury at the start of the 2012 – 2013 season. Married Suzuna in 2008. They have a daughter born in 2010 and a son born in 2012. After retirement, he returned to Japan and he’s been coaching and teaching at Deimon ever since.

Juumonji –34 in October, Kuroki 34 on September 1, Togano 34 in October – all went on to have fairly normal jobs (banker, office worker, advertising). Kuroki is married with a kid or two, Juumonji is gay and has a partner who works the same bank and is his “roommate,” Togano is still single.

Yukimitsu – 34 since February, never played football again after high school, became a veterinarian.

Komusubi – 33 since January – never played football again after high school, became a personal trainer.

Ishimaru – 35 in October, never played football again after high school, went on to run in the Hakone Eikoden in university, has a normal job

Taki – 35 since April, played with the Orlando Divers 2004 – 2008 and then was traded to the Nashville Fighters where he’s been since 2008. Never married. Does he date anyone? Who knows. “My brother,” “my niece,” “my nephew.”

Musashi – 35 since Apirl, been playing the the Takekura Construction Babels since 2004, still working construction, personal life is pretty private, but does have a son who plays elementary school soccer.

Mamori 35 in November, ENL teacher to small children, still helps strategize football, been living with Hiruma since 2006 and had a daughter in 2017, living her best life

Suzuna 33 since March, married to Monta since 2008 with two kids, first of the group to get married, part-time matchmaker, has a decent success rate. Hiruma = You-nii, Juumonji = Monjii, Kuroki = Kurokki, Togano = Toga, Komusubi = Kamusubicchi, Yukimitsu = Yukki, Ishimaru = Tet-chan, Musashi = Musha-syan, Mamori = Mamo-nee, Kid = Kiddon,” Cereberus = Ceru, Sena has no nickname

Kid (Mushanokoji Shien) – 35 in November, comes from a noble line, at odds with parents over lifestyle choices and is now estranged, played with the Takekura Construction Babels from 2004 – 2005, played with the Tokyo Stallions from 2005 – 2010, played with the Houston Fishermen from 2010 – 2020. Started Sports Club with Tetsuma in 2012, which is a revitalization of the Boys and Girls Club concept. Hopes to keep working and growing the club in retirement. Been with Tetsuma since 2006. Wanted to enjoy being married so that’s why they waited until they were retired from pro ball.

Tetsuma – 35 since May, his mom looks just like him, played for the Tokyo Stallions from 2004 – 2008, played for the Dallas Titans from 2008 – 2020. Helps Kid run Sports Club, very good at organizing and budgeting.

Riku – turned 34 in April, played with Enma Fires from 2005 – 2009, played with the Yokohama Belugas from 2009 – 2015, still wears the team’s squid hat merch when it’s cold outside. Retired after a horrific injury which he still uses a cane for. Runs a pet bird store. Dated lots of people, still hasn’t settled for anyone.

Buffalo – 36 in October, got rid of the dreads soon after graduation in a bid to try and fit into Japanese society, now his hair is just long. Moved to the US in 2005 and ended up doing stuff like MMA, Ninja Warrior, and UFC. Has an American wife and three daughters (ages 12, 9, and 7).

Horide – no canon age, so let’s assume he’s roughly like late 50’s – early 60’s by 2020, still coaching football, but considering retirement, proud of all the kids who have ever been on his team. He’s pretty much in a parental position in the audience seating, and treated as one might treat a dad during such an event

Saba –mid-30’s, no real wiki info, became an office worker, has one child, didn’t play football after high school.

Aiuchi Hina – mid 30’s, not much wiki info, head cheerleader, Miss Seibu, probably married to an unnamed former teammate, and probably has at least one kid

Shin – 35 since July, played for Ojou Silver Knights 2004 – 2009, played for the New England Musketeers since 2009, has many Super Bowl wins, a true legend in both the US and Japan. Ignores tabloid rumors about him dating models and singers so he can enjoy some privacy with his partner, an indie rocker who preformed the half time show in 2013. They’ve been living together out in the middle of nowhere upstate New York since 2016 in a modest house that no one really would think celebrities owned. Has a condo near the Musketeers’ training facilities.

Sakuraba – 34 since March, played for the Ojou Silver Knights 2004 – 2009, played for the Seattle Superstars from 2009 – 2018, retired because he wanted to do something else with his life. Has gone on to play in a local band that’s had moderate success around the Pacific Northwest touring clubs, lounges, and bars. Keeps his private life very private.

Panther – probably 34 (no birthday given), likely graduated high school in 2005 like Sena, so probably met Sena the summer before sophomore year at high school, maybe has a summer birthday and was already 16 when they met. Nasa Aliens/Shuttles was a travel team he was in from 2001 – 2005, also played high school football with his local high school from 2001 – 2005, played with the San Antonio Armadillos since 2005, took business courses online and has a degree since he thought that might help him keep from falling into pitfalls other pro-athletes fall into with money and retirement. Didn’t have a cellphone when he met Sena, but they exchanged e-mail addresses. When Sena went to Notre Dame High School, they exchanged AIM handles and got to talk to each other more often since they were on the same time zone. Eventually exchanged numbers once Panther got a cellphone after graduating high school. Kind of were rocking the long distance relationship chic before it was an official relationship.

Jeremy – probably 34 or 35, the kid with the glasses, still close friends with Panther. Played at Stanford from 2004/2005 – 2006/2007, knows multiple languages for fun so he’s still not the best translator. Continued his degree while playing professionally because he promised. Played with the New England Musketeers since 2006/2007 and retired earlier in 2020. Has a son and daughter (ages 6 and 9). His wife is a teacher.

Homer – probably 34 or 35, the kid with the long hair, also still close friends with Panther and Jeremy, chose to go into the NFL draft upon graduating high school. Played for the Nashville Fighters from 2004/2005 – 2010/2011, and then got transferred to the Chicago Gangsters in 2010/2011 and retired in 2018 back to Houston where he helps run a charity that picks up the slack across Texas after disasters when FEMA can’t get its act together to help people. He’s currently trying to build the charity up so it can function in multiple states.

Big Brother Gonzales – probably 36 maybe about to turn 37, biggest guy from the travel team and probably the oldest member. Played with the University of Kentucky from 2002/2003 – 2006/2007, played for the Denver Pumas from 2006/2007 – 2010/2011 when he had a career ending injury. Had his kanji tattoo covered up and started collecting more tattoos. Has also gotten the correct kanji tattooed on him at some point.

Little Brother Gonzales – probably 32, never really got as big as his brother so he never played football after high school. Had a few tattoos including the dumb one from high school.

Vague Summary:

Sena/Panther soulmate fic in which Kid and Tetsuma’s wedding brings most the gang and more together. Kind of a choose to stick together thing? Idek. See where it goes. Think of it like a romcom movie maybe?

Soulmate Concept:

In this world, soulmates are considered near-extinct but they really aren’t. Lots of people have a wide variety of soulmates, it’s just that their soulmarks aren’t very obvious. For example, Mamori and Hiruma both have a splattering of freckles on their hands that are actually a continuation of each other’s pattern, but it’s too subtle and freckley to really realize what it truly means. Other people might have birthmarks that fit together or have moles placed in the exact same places or mirrored places, etc…However, there’s a subclass of soulmate marks for those who have a truly deep bond. Those marks have a more distinct look to them. Sena has what looks like roses cascading down his Soulmate marks tend to start developing upon meeting your soulmate and evolve as your relationship deepen, so Mamori and Hiruma upon meeting in first-year were probably like huh freckles, and by second year it’s like lots of freckles but who cares it’s just mysterious high school freckles.

Flashbacks:

Panther and Sena:

2002 – Hanging out by the river bank after practice before Panther has to regroup with the others where they’re staying. Sena’s soulmate mark is on his right leg and looks like cascading roses except more impressionist since the mark is still forming. Panther’s looks like chrysanthemums following a similar pattern on his right leg. At the time they think it’s kind of weird, but don’t over think it. Sena’s dad told him that most people develop one in high school and he has something like he and his best friend have stuff like that on their arms.

2002 – Sena asks Panther for his number after the cat incident, but Panther doesn’t have a cellphone yet. He does have e-mail and AIM, so they exchange e-mails because Sena doesn’t have AIM. By this point, their soulmate marks seem more like flowers than birthmarks, but they’re still underdeveloped.

2009/2010 – Panther and Sena meet up to celebrate New Years and Sena’s belated birthday since they’re finally both living in the states now (even if it’s an almost four hour plane ride apart), end up deciding that they’re dating. They have a good idea what they’re getting in though because they’ve been long distance friends with a fourteen hour time zone difference so at least now they can more feasibly see each other when they don’t have football commitments

Kid and Tetsuma

2006 – Kid, being the only son of a noble family was going through arranged marriage hell. Texted Tetsuma, “Save me,” both kind of half jokingly, half for serious. So Tetsuma shows up in nice clothing (because Kid’s always talking about how people get overly dressed up to come over to their estate) and kind of just showed up during a marriage prospect meeting, held Kid’s gaze a long moment, bowed on his knees to Kid’s parents like a good wedding prospect, and then promptly slung Kid over his shoulder, and rescued him. They’ve been together ever since. Honestly probably would have dated in high school but social pressure got in the way.

Venue:

It’s a large, sprawling ranch/inn in Wyoming. It’s large enough to accommodate everyone. There are horses to ride, a functioning farm, and a view of mountains in the distance. Everyone chipped in money to secure it not only because it was in a location the press wouldn’t bother all of them, but also because it sounded like a fun time no one could pass up. Kid and Tetsuma helped organize the whole thing so nobody would be priced out of coming especially if they had to fly from Japan or elsewhere to come.

Wedding:

The wedding is set up outdoors with everyone gathered around the altar so it’s les syour side and my side and more umbrella shaped. Kid and Tetsuma enter together, Tetsuma breaks off at a full run and Kid quick draws the bouquet, shoot it towards Tetsuma, who catches it and holds it through the whole ceremony. The ceremony is kind of a mix of typical American wedding stuff said by the ordained and then the vows are Shinto, though there is no sake. Kind of a mix of Kid and Tetsuma’s love of the wild west and their commitment to each other which follows more of a love, respect, console, help, and protect than a love, honor, cherish, and obey.

Reception:

It’s in the great hall of the ranch/inn. Lots of wild west/ranch/cowboy chic happening. Variety of food, mix of American and Japanese traditions. Kid tells the flashback about Tetsuma rescuing him from an arranged marriage. Reception ends at sunset and they ride off into the sunset together, heading to a nearby campsite to kick off whatever their honeymoon will be.

#adventures in fic writing

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