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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

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Don't Speak 49

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Note: mondays are for pain.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

“What’s wrong with her?” Ann’s sharp tone is dulled behind the dim blur all around you.

“She... she’ll be fine. She’s... adjusting,” Steve explains hesitantly.

A heavy sigh makes your shiver, an echo of another monster. You sink further down into the bed, eyes shut, body locked up. You couldn’t move if you tried.

“You had to get her? She’s stupid. Maria wasn’t--”

“Shut up about Maria,” Steve barks at Ann. “She’s gone. You want a kid, this is what we do.”

“Should we... should we talk about this here?” She asks.

“You’re the one who brought it up, Ann,” he retorts. “Besides, she’s dissociating. She probably thinks she’s at home. It’s better she’s like this. Easier.”

“It won’t be when--”

“Shut up,” he snarls again. “Go.”

Silence. Tense and thick. Finally, a set of footfalls depart and another come closer. You don’t react as the figure sits on the edge of the bed, not even as they touch your shoulder through the layers of blankets.

“Sweetie, how are you doing?” Steve coos. “You wanna get up? You must be hungry.”

You don’t answer him. You can’t. You’re embarrassed. He’s right about you. Ann is right about you. You’re broken. That fact doesn’t hurt as much as another epiphany; he chose you because of that. You’re not special, you’re not pretty, he doesn’t want you. They want what you can give them. Just like Andy.

“Can I bring you some food? You have to eat, sweetie,” rubs your shoulder. “Not just for you.”

You want to scream. Just the very thought of having a baby makes your skins crawl. Your muscles constrict to the point of agony every time you try to imagine it. To you, the very idea is a like a parasite invading your body.

Just like they did.

Andy. Ann. Steve.

She’s right. You are stupid. You made the same mistake twice. Worse, you betrayed and abandoned the only person who every cared about you. The person who would never violate you or call you dumb and useless. You left Amber behind but you think it’s better that you did. Better for her.

You have no where to go. You’re trapped. This is how it’s going to be. You’re going to keep letting them use you and then you’re going to have a baby. A baby! A baby? No, no, no.

“Sweetie,” Steve pulls down the blanket to caress your face, “you wanna come to the office today? We can talk. Maybe after, we can go shopping. We’ll need to start getting stuff for the nursery.” You shudder as he strokes along your cheek, “you know, me and Ann, we never thought we could have another. You’re... you’re giving us an amazing gift. You’re making our dreams come true.”

You stay as you are. He takes a deep breath and spreads his hand over your head. He bends over you and brushes his lips along your temple and to your ear.

“Get the fuck up.”

His voice makes you squeak and recoil. As you try to pull away, he catches the back of your head and keeps you there. Your eyes flick open and you gape up at him. He makes you sit up as he grips your skull between his large hands.

“You’re not going to do this. Not to my baby,” he snarls, “so get up, get dressed, and be a good girl, dove.”

You pout and your eyes wet, “Steve, please--”

“You keep this up, and I’ll have to go see how your sister’s doing...” he intones. “Living all alone, she must miss you.”

“What?” You croak.

“Someone has to keep an eye on her,” he says.

“What do you mean?” You whine.

“You really want me to say it?” He snarls.

“No, why? Why? You know—I t-t-told you—Andy--”

He shoves you back down, so hard your neck snaps back and you bite your tongue, “don’t say his fucking name to me. Don't even breathe him in the same sentence as me. I’m not like him and you know that, sweetie. Look how much I’ve helped you. How much I’ve actually helped you.”

He stands and kicks the bed. “I’m giving you a purpose. Something you never had before.” He scoffs and paces around as you rub your neck, “you were nothing before. No one wanted you, no one needed you.”

“Stop, please. That’s mean--”

“The truth hurts, baby,” he growls. “So let’s get the fuck up and go.”

You sniffle and shakily push yourself up. Your heart races and the rampant beat pounds in your ears. You push yourself to the edge of the bed and the blankets slip away from your body. As you stand, his eyes flash at you.

You’re still naked. They just leave you like that when they’re done. You cross the room but don’t make it to the dresser. He catches you by your arm and drags you back.

“Not so fast,” he shoves you towards the bed. “Just to make sure,” he forces you onto the bed. “Open up, baby,” he climbs over you, pinning you as his hand creeps between your legs.

You close your eyes again. You recede back into the shell hewn form years of self-hatred and fear. The cocoon that never let you free. You would never fly free and be a butterfly. You would only ever be this. A burden. Nothing.

He ruts into you but you don’t feel it. You can’t. His intrusion doesn’t hurt anywhere as bad as the truth. And you can’t blame anyone but yourself. You chose this.

🕊️

It happens all at once. One moment, you’re sitting there, watching Avery and Harper run in circles around the front room, and the next, you’re keeled over, hurling onto the carpet. You don’t think much of it. Most days, you feel sick. You don’t have an appetite but they make you eat. You still have scratches around your lips from Ann’s manicure.

You stay bent over the carpet, panting. Avery squeals, “Moooom!” and Harper snickers and adds a draw out, “ewwwwwwwww”.

You’re pushed back against the couch. You’re breathless and dizzy. You gulp down the bile and watch Ann grimace down at the puddle between your feet. She puts her hands on her hips.

“Steve,” she rings out.

Another shadow appears. The adults are quiet as the kids loom behind, “is she sick?” Avery asks.

“Go. Take your brother to his room.” Ann snips.

The girl retreats as if away from a lash. You stare up at them. Steve bends and picks you up off the couch. You refuse to set your feet so he carries you away.

“I’m not cleaning this up,” Ann snarls.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, “did you check the calendar?”

Footsteps follow him as you hang limp in his arms. He takes you into the bedroom, the dark cell where you languish between their grabbing hands, where you wallow in despair and defeat. He lays you down.

“Makes sense,” Ann drones. “She’s about on track.”

He hums and nods. “I’ll clean up. We need to be sure.”

“I’ll need help,” she sniffs. “Just look at her.”

You stare at the ceiling. The world fades behind the ring of light in your vision as the light bulbs sears into your retina. You close your eyes and everything moves around you as you stay still.

It’s quiet when you rise from the depths. Out of the void of your own mind and the prison of your body. The lamp next to the bed is on and you’re wearing a shirt you’ve never seen before. There’s a faint scent of urine in the air. You’re all alone.

Your stomach turns, mulching in on itself, but you ignore it. You just can’t be bothered. The swell of sickness chokes you and you just wallow it back down. Your body spasms with the effort.

You roll onto your stomach and close your eyes. When you open them again, you’re spewing puke down the bed spread, watching it pool on the hardwood. You wipe your mouth with the back of your head and groan.

An inch away is the bin from the bathroom. If you’d been awake, you might have been able to reach it. You stretch out your arm and drag it closer. There's a rattle in the bottom.

You stare down at the white and blue plastic stick. Without fear, you grab it and bring it up to read the little window. Pregnant. That’s it. That's the end. You drop the test into your own puke and roll onto your other side. You dive back into the despondency of sleep.

You’re woken again by an angry voice. Then a swat on the back of your head, “disgusting, aren’t you?” Ann chides.

You can hear her scrubbing the floor as the smell of puke hangs in the air. Puke and piss. Filthy, like you.

When the room is silent and still, you lay on your back. You’re still nauseous. Weak and tired. Everything is so much more intense than it’s ever been.

The door opens. You don’t react. Steve calls your name and you still don’t answer. He drags you up the bed and makes you sit against the pillows, placed against the headboard. Then he puts the little folding table over your lap. The scent of food makes you grumble.

“You have to eat,” he says. “It’s not just about you anymore, dove.”

His timbre is harsh, hateful almost. He holds up the spoon and you stare it down. You keep your lips sealed.

“Open your damn mouth or I’ll do it for you.”

You wince and obey. You don’t understand why he changed. He used to be nice. He used to be patient and gentle. He said he was going to fix you. You take the mouthful of porridge and swallow without tasting.

“You’re... a doctor,” you squeak.

“Hmm?” He scoops up more of the oats.

“You’re a doctor... you’re supposed to help me--”

“I have helped,” he rams the spoon in your mouth again. “You think it would be any different with him? He wouldn’t want you the minute you got knocked up.” He stirs the bowl as he speaks, “but if you give us a healthy baby, we’ll keep you.”

If.

You open your mouth again. You stay quiet. You don’t like talking to him. Not anymore. It's always about the baby. It’s always spiteful. He hates you.

“You get it?” He sneers. “You are carrying our child, that means you have to take care of yourself,” he grabs your hand and wraps it around the spoon, “you need to grow up.” He guides the spoon into the bowl with a clink. “Because if you don’t start taking care of my baby, then I will make sure you fucking suffer. I’ve lost too much already.”

You whimper and he lets you go. You raise the spoon and lean forward to put the heap of steaming oats between your lips. His eyes are as icy as his words. You’re scared. You’re even more terrified of him than you ever were of Andy.

“Good girl,” he says but it doesn’t make you feel good. Not anymore.

You finish the whole bowl, and the fruit on the side, and the orange juice. He gathers up the tray and leaves you. You slump against the pillows and rub your stomach, trying to calm the storm inside.

It’s more than the latent tide of nausea that makes you restless. You’re head pounds. You can’t even close your eyes. If you sleep any longer, your skull might just split. Your body is achy and your heart feels as if its always racing. You sit up and look around the room.

Nine months. You know that’s how long it takes. You’ll have less than that by now. You’re not sure how long it would be.

You turn and shimmy to the edge of the bed. You slide open the night table drawer and take out your journal. You search through the pages. Steve told you to right down your cycle...

Hm, you can’t figure it out. Probably two months? Maybe less? It doesn't feel like that long.

You put the journal back and your knuckles brush on the smooth cover of your tablet. You pause and lean forward to look into the drawer. You stopped using it because you didn’t want to be reminded of Andy. You couldn’t draw because your hand wouldn’t listen to your brain.

You glance at the door then take out the tablet. You push back into bed and put your knees up, draping the blankets over them so if anyone walks in, you can hide the screen. You press the button on the side. It takes a moment but it lights up.

You wait until the homescreen appears. Thirty percent. You can’t remember where the charger went.

You pull down the notifications. There are a lot. Automatic alerts from the camera at Andy’s house, messages from a strange account that can only be him, and several app updates.

You swipe them all away. You flick over the menu, back and forth, back and forth. You tap on Insta and wait for it to load. Your last post was a year ago; a drawing of a dove...

You go to your followers. You don’t have many but you’re only looking for one. You tap Amber’s picture. Her profile opens and your fingers twitch in surprise. Your fingertip taps the little heart and it blooms red. You quickly press again to undo the like.

Her last post is from a week ago. It’s her and a man. He doesn’t seem to want to be on camera as she kisses his cheek. Oh. You can’t bother her. She’s moved on. She’s happy and you’re going to ruin her life all over again. You’re not her responsibility.

Your eyes fill with tears as you stare at her picture. A red dot appears at the bottom over the chat icon. It blinks as several messages flow in. It's Amber.

‘Hey!’

‘Are u there?’

‘Says ur online. Pls answer me.’

You watch her messages pop up. Your lip trembles. What can you do? What can you say? You wipe your tears and snivel. Hey, sis, got myself knocked up and now I’m scared. No, that’s not it.

You hover your hands over the keyboard and steady them. You blow out between your lips and sort out the words in your head. You tap the letters slowly, taking your time.

‘I just want to say goodbye. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused. I’m glad to see that you’re happy. Love you.’

You read and reread. Over and over. Then you make yourself send it. You don’t wait for her response. What she says, doesn’t matter. She’s free from you. She doesn’t need to worry. You’re not worried either. This is just how it is.

#steve kemp #andy barber #dark steve kemp #dark andy barber #dark!steve kemp #dark!andy barber #steve kemp x reader #andy barber x reader #don't speak #series #fic #librarian au #au #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob #fresh

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reikorun · 1 year ago

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KlubOutside Q&A 1-100 [Translation]

Translated by @reikorun

Q1.

2021.01.18

Could you tell us if there was any music, for instance, which became the basis for the image of each character in BTW?

A1.

I'll write about it in the set list section at some point.

Q2.

2021.01.18

How can I be a mangaka for Shueisha?

A2.

You can make a submission to Jump-mangasho. All Jump editors can speak English.

Q3.

2021.01.18

Could you give us the details around how you came up with the word "Bankai"?

A3.

Before the serialization of BLEACH, I tried to use the word "卍殺伏龍砲" (Bansatsu-Fukuryuhō) in another manga, I repurposed it from there.

Q4.

2021.01.18

Right now, what game are you absolutely hooked on?

A4.

Towards the end of this year, I was playing an absurd amount of Zelda Musou (Hyrule Warriors).

Q5.

2021.01.18

Is there any possibility that unrevealed Zanpakutō or Bankai will be introduced in some form in the future?

A5.

If there is a place where I feel it would be acknowledged by a good deal of readers with a suitable number of pages then I would like to draw them someday.

Q6.

2021.01.18

Are there any comedians that you have been enjoying lately, sensei?

A6.

Tokyo Hoteison and Tontsukatan.

Q7.

2021.01.18

Did Sensei come up with the idea for a fan club himself, or was it proposed by the editorial department?

A7.

This was originally a project that a former editor, who is currently working in the web department, brought forward because he wanted to work with me.

Q8.

2021.01.18

Please tell us your dog's name!

A8.

It's "Uni".

Q9.

2021.01.18

In the anime version of BLEACH, the costume designs of some characters such as Soi Fon, Yoruichi-san and Harribel-sama were different from the original work, what did you think about that?

A9.

Back in those days, there was a rule within Jump that "only works which have finished serialization will be made into late night anime." However, nowadays you can ask them to broadcast it late at night and stay true to the original work. By the way, ALPHAxOMEGA's Harribel figurine is based on the original work.

Q10.

2021.01.18

Regarding Gin, rather than a Kyoto dialect, is that an Osaka dialect with a touch of Kyoto?

A10.

That's correct.

Q11.

2021.01.25

I would like to know what it was that Renji wanted to hear from Urahara-san after turning up in the Human World during the Arrancar Arrival arc, even going so far as to do chores for him!

A11.

"Why did you choose Rukia as the hiding place for the Hōgyoku?" Kisuke told him half truth and half lie, but Renji was satisfied with it.

Q12.

2021.01.25

By some chance, I wonder if Kubo-sensei was actually the originator of Whiskrs STORE?

A12.

I am the originator. This is a brand that aims to put out merchandise in which I am involved in everything from conception to completion.

Q13.

2021.01.25

Tite Kubo-sensei, when you think about a character, do you also think about colors at the same time? Or, how do you decide the colors?

A13.

It's pretty much done at the same time. In such cases, the color scheme is determined at the line drawing stage so there is no need to deliberate over how it should look.

Q14.

2021.01.25

What are your favorite sweets?

A14.

Inamura Shozo and Toshi Yoroizuka. I loved their Mont Blanc and mille-feuille but I can no longer find either of those anymore.

Q15.

2021.01.25

Kubo-sensei, could you tell us from your own perspective how to go about creating characters so that readers can empathize with them and find them compelling?

A15.

What's important is whether or not that character has a unique mindset which sets them apart from other characters, so it's not that I think it's necessary to empathize with a character.

Q16.

2021.01.25

Why is the phrase "nandato" (*"what did you say?") used so frequently in BLEACH?

A16.

At the time, there were many works with distinctive catchphrases for characters, so this was an experiment to create a catchphrase for the work rather than the characters, thereby giving the work itself its very own personality. I then put it to work as dialogue that does not compromise the individuality of each character, even when multiple characters are using it.

Q17.

2021.01.25

In BLEACH, "BAD SHIELD UNITED" is brought up as a Human World 'movie' but does Mille really end up dying? Since the speaker is Mizuiro, it's hard to tell whether it's his usual dark humor towards Keigo or if he's serious, I've been curious about that for quite some time.

A17.

She dies. My first editor from back then (who was also my editor at the time of BSU) also said to me "I'm shocked though…."

Q18.

2021.01.25

In BURN THE WITCH, there were often color illustrations which were colored digitally, but around what time did you start trying digital coloring?

A18.

I started from BTW. As far as the order of things go, the Jump cover for chapter 1 is probably the first one that was done digitally. I was nervous until that issue of Jump came out.

Q19.

2021.02.01

Are there any parts of your characters which make you think "this is hard to draw."

A19.

When it comes to parts, large breasts are all difficult. Also, during the week where Szayelaporro's release state came up I complained the whole time whilst drawing it.

Q20.

2021.02.01

When I was reading "BURN THE WITCH", I very often got the impression that Noel was always positioned on the left and Ninny on the right, but I wonder if there's any significance behind this positional relationship…!?

A20.

In order to generate an impression of the characters with a limited number of pages, I did this as a sort of staging effect in the sense that ‘a character's traits are incorporated in their stance.’ You have a good eye….

Q21.

2021.02.01

I believe each squad was assigned a color, I once tried to identify the location of squad barracks based on those colors. Since there are 4 gates associated with a particular color, I thought of Shōryūmon as Seiryū (east - blue), Shuwaimon as Suzaku (south - red), Hakutōmon as Byakko (west - white), Kokuryōmon as Genbu (north - black).

As I recall, the townscape was circular so I tried to arrange the colors of each squad with the ‘Yellow Emperor’ as the centre and it turned out as follows. I suspect it might be in this circular arrangement: starting from Shōryūmon with 6, 1, 11, 8, then from Shuwaimon with 13, 4, 2, from Hakutōmon with 3, 5, 9, and finally from Kokuryōmon with 7, 10, 12. ×[1]

Moreover, I'm awfully curious about the actual line up because it is Ichimaru-san from Squad 3 who interrupted the gatekeeper of Hakutōmon, and the three individuals who turned traitor are situated close together. Is there any established blueprint for the placement of squad barracks within Sensei's mind?

A21.

I can't say for sure without seeing an illustration but judging by what I just read, I think this is very insightful.

Q22.

2021.02.01

Are there any manga, anime, dramas, movies, etc. (other than Kubo-sensei's own works) that as a reader or viewer make you think "this work is amazing!" or "I want you to read/watch that!"?

A22.

My favourite program of the past few years has been Netflix's "The Final Table." It's a cooking competition show, but I think it's the pinnacle of Shōnen manga style cooking battles.

Q23.

2021.02.01

What is your favorite Hiroshima specialty?

A23.

Cream cheese momiji* and plain momiji with chunky sweet red bean paste. (*Momiji manjū are maple leaf shaped sweets.)

Q24.

2021.02.01

I would like to know what kind of work tools you use!

A24.

I don't really have many special tools because I'm not that particular about them … if it's okay, I'll post a photo soon.

Q25.

2021.02.01

I've read in some articles before that the series consists of arcs mainly focused on members of Ichigo's entourage like with Rukia's rescue arc, the Arrancar arc, the Fullbring arc and the Quincy arc. Was this structure something decided upon by Kubo-sensei from the very beginning of the series??

A25.

That's right. I was drawing while wondering if I could continue the series until I reached Uryū.

Q26.

2021.02.01

Izuru-kun's Zanpakutō is Wabisuke and Wabisuke is the name of a type of camellia. Does the theory that the reason why there are multiple scenes within the story where he decapitates his opponent, have its origins in the fact that the camellia is likened to a head and is described as falling?

A26.

That's correct. I thought everyone would take notice about the Wabisuke camellia but at the time it wasn't really picked up on that much.

Q27.

2021.02.01

What is your favourite Pokémon?

A27.

I've never played Pokémon so I haven't the slightest clue.

Q28.

2021.02.08

Does sensei decide the contents, continuity elements and general flow of novelized works like "BLEACH WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU" and "BLEACH Can't Fear Your Own World"?

A28.

I was the one who passed on the contents and details affecting continuity, I left its portrayal up to the two authors. Whenever they happened upon a part they didn't quit understand along the way, they would also come to consult with me.

Q29.

2021.02.08

When is the collaboration between sensei and THE BACK HORN?!

A29.

I'd like to do that with the Thousand-Year Blood War arc.

Q30.

2021.02.08

Please give us details about the iPad you use at work!

A30.

It's a regular iPad with a larger screen.

Q31.

2021.02.08

Is Kubo-sensei continuing to play "Animal Crossing: New Horizons" without getting bored of it?

A31.

I stopped playing because the UI is too complicated. I'll pick it up again when the UI has improved.

Q32.

2021.02.08

I heard that Kubo-sensei was in charge of the design aspect for the anime original characters Amagai Shūsuke and Kanō Ashido, but was sensei the one who actually designed the anime original characters themselves?

A32.

All characters in the anime originals that are not expressly stated as being designed by me are the product of Kudō-san's taste. I may have done a final design check on the Amagai arc at least, but I didn't touch anything surrounding the Bount arc.

Q33.

2021.02.15

Sensei, do you prefer a girl who shows emotions clearly sort of like Ninny-chan or a girl who is cool-headed and doesn't show much emotion on the surface like Noel-chan?

A33.

I choose my favorite female characters based solely on whether they have big breasts or not, so if it's between these two, it's Noel.

Q34.

2021.02.15

Are there any plans to re-release the color illustration collection “JET”?

A34.

Re-release the art book, I wonder about that… I will try to ask my editor.

Q35.

2021.02.15

Do you play “Dragon Quest Builders”?

A35.

I played a lot of both 1 and 2. I'd like to see a remake of 1 with the technology of 2.

Q36.

2021.02.15

Have you ever felt that the sense of distance and relationships between the characters are different between the anime and the original work?

A36.

Up to around the Soul Society arc of the BLEACH anime, the whole time whilst watching it I kept thinking to myself "if they change things so much, it won't match up with the endgame of the story, but it's out of my hands." I couldn't really understand the characters so I started checking the script around the Arrancar arc.

Q37.

2021.02.15

Does sensei have a favorite designer chair?

A37.

There are many that I like. As for the ones I actually use and like, that includes the Jacobsen Series 7 chair, Eames Sofa by Eames, Magistretti's Maralunga and Maxalto by Citterio.

Q38.

2021.02.22

Chapter 162 of BLEACH (Ichigo's first demonstration of Bankai) is drawn in full color, please give us the inside story around its production during that time (such as how you managed to draw with full color for a weekly series.)

A38.

I finished the draft in 6 days and I set aside approximately 2 consecutive weeks worth of time before drawing it.

Q39.

2021.02.22

Sensei, who did you choose as your favorite character on KlubOutside??

A39.

I haven't made a choice yet. When I think about it seriously, I'm honestly having a tough time choosing.

Q40.

2021.02.22

Which dialect exactly is Shinji's Kansai-ben supposed to be?

A40.

Hirako and Hiyori are both written with a rough sounding Kansai dialect, but I have been told by someone from Kawachi that "Hiyori speaks with an authentic Kawachi dialect."

Q41.

2021.02.22

Are there any plans to make BLEACH a paperback edition?

A41.

I wonder? I haven't heard anything so I guess not.

※There are no plans at the moment. However, there is a possibility that we will consider it in the future depending on demand. <Editor>

Q42.

2021.02.22

Sensei, I heard that you play Brave Souls, but who is your absolute favorite character to use? Additionally, do you have a favorite character with a Brave Souls original costume?

A42.

The one I use the most is Masaki who is the strongest auto. If you're bad at action like me, you can rely on Masaki. I pull almost all original costumes if they are big breasted, in swimsuits.

Q43.

2021.03.01

What is your favorite flavor of ramen?

A43.

It's chicken broth.

Q44.

2021.03.01

What is the diet of a manga artist like? I sincerely wish you good health sensei!

A44.

It's pretty average. In the past year, the variety of delivery options has increased and has become extremely satisfying.

Q45.

2021.03.01

I'd like to see the design proposal for volume 31 with Szayelaporro on the cover sometime, the one which Kubo-sensei previously mentioned on Twitter...!

A45.

Hasn't this been published anywhere? I'll try and see if I have it at hand.

Q46.

2021.03.01

How are the spellings of characters' names decided?

A46.

On the whole, I try to blend in spellings from as many different regions as possible, so for some characters, I was aiming for that “demarcation where it may just be legible" before making my decision.

Q47.

2021.03.01

Is Gantenbainne still alive after receiving aid from Captain Unohana in the Arrancar arc?

A47.

He's alive. The "god" he was talking about is Baraggan, so he is gathering Arrancar who still worship Baraggan and building a small nation.

Q48.

2021.03.01

By what age is one able to work towards becoming a manga artist? Past 20, is it indeed too late to start putting yourself forward? I would like to know what Kubo-sensei thinks about the appropriate age for manga artists!!

A48.

I think it doesn't matter how old you are. You don't need anyone's permission to draw manga, so I think it's best to just draw if you want to draw, and stop if you think it doesn't suit you.

Q49.

2021.03.01

Will Whiskrs STORE carry BLEACH goods? I would like BLEACH to come out with merchandise too like those being sold in Whiskrs STORE. I think I'd want to see merchandise which are actually worn by characters or goods that look like they could be sold in Soul Society! Also, it would be helpful if you could add more payment methods…

A49.

I'm also planning to make BLEACH goods, but I've created an inquiry form on Whiskrs, so if you can write "item request" in the header over there and send it to us, I'll consider that too! Also, if you would like to pay using a specific payment method, please contact us.

Q50.

2021.03.08

My question is, are Nemu-chan's hair and clothing Mayuri-sama's hobby? Or does Nemu-chan dress up according to what she likes?

A50.

It's Mayuri's hobby, or rather, Mayuri is the one altering it to match with his own ensemble. Whether or not it suits her is a separate matter.

Q51.

2021.03.08

Is there any character in BLEACH that you think has become popular, contrary to your expectations?

A51.

I thought Hisagi would never really get popular, so I'm glad that he became fairly popular.

Q52.

2021.03.08

Has there been any change in your favorite characters within your own work between now and the past?

A52.

My favorite characters experience change with every scene I draw, so they're constantly changing.

Q53.

2021.03.08

What is the origin of Rickenbacker's name?

A53.

This is the name of the founder of a guitar company. All Broombuggies are named after people who have passed away.

Q54.

2021.03.08

Do you have a close friendship with Jujutsu Kaisen's Akutami-sensei?

A54.

I had a conversation with him the other day. Right now, I'm using the shampoo Akutami-kun gave me at the time.

Q55.

2021.03.15

With the anime versions of BLEACH and BTW, sensei's characters were given a voice, but to sensei's mind, are there any characters whose voices were a particularly perfect fit?

A55.

Yoruichi is the first one who surprised me, I thought "I didn't expect this character to have this kind of voice!"

Q56.

2021.03.15

Hitsugaya who had been turned into a zombie was changed into Quincy clothes, is this Gigi's hobby?

A56.

It's Gigi's hobby.

Q57.

2021.03.15

The Quincy have made an appearance in Brave Souls, but how were the voice actors selected?

A57.

I chose them after listening to recorded voice auditions.

Q58.

2021.03.15

What kind of clothes are your favorite clothes these days?

A58.

Over-sized, whitish sweats. They're comfortable so I want to wear them until the very last moment they're considered trendy.

Q59.

2021.03.15

Does Kubo-sensei play Brave Souls? If so, who is your favorite character?

A59.

I scarcely get a chance to use them, but the visuals for heart attribute swimsuit Nelliel and technique attribute swimsuit Orihime are extremely good.

Q60.

2021.03.22

Are there any manga or movies that influenced you, sensei?

A60.

"SNATCH'" and "300" had a huge influence on me at the time they were screened.

Q61

2021.03.22

I heard that you are also involved in the audition process for the voice actors, but I am curious about what it was like in the early days of the BLEACH anime.

A61.

Ichigo was chosen after I listened to the several audition tapes which had been recorded for him. As for the Human World gang + Rukia and Renji, I listened to the tapes that the team on the other side had selected and got them to change only those who were different from their image. It's about the same level of involvement as in the live-action movie. Any subsequent casting does not involve me.

Q62.

2021.03.22

There are two types of haori for the Captains of the Gotei, but are both options provided when they take up their new posts?

A62.

At the time of their inauguration, they can choose between sleeved and sleeveless. They can even make modifications during the process, however they may be put off from doing so because it's expensive and this request will not be approved unless you have a very good reason.

Q63.

2021.03.22

When you were still working on your weekly series, were you reading other works in Jump magazine?

A63.

During its serialization, I was pretty much only ever checking for misprints in BLEACH. Between the desire to draw manga and the desire to read manga I only have the capacity to accommodate one, so when I draw I don't feel like reading and when I read I don't feel like drawing.

Q64.

2021.03.22

I have a question regarding the typeface of Rukia's name written on the cover of chapter 266. "Kuchiki" is written in brush strokes, but is there some significance as to why "Rukia" is not written in brush strokes? I'm curious about the covers with names on them since all the names of the other Shinigami are written by brush stroke, whereas part of Rukia's name is the only anomaly.

A64.

It does have a significance, but I might draw it somewhere else so it's a secret for now.

Q65.

2021.03.29

Sensei, is there any aspect in life that makes you think "this is the only thing that is non-negotiable"?

A65.

It has to be "don't let anyone interfere with your work." I'm hardly ever picky about anything else in my actual life.

Q66.

2021.03.29

The more Ichigo has grown, the more he looks like his father Kurosaki Isshin, huh? By the way, will Ichigo inherit Isshin's chest hair? I'm curious.

A66.

I want to believe in the power of Masaki's genes.

Q67.

2021.03.29

Can I safely assume that the description of Squad 1 Vice-Captain Sasakibe Chōjirō Tadaoki's Bankai - Kōkō Gonryō Rikyū - was referring to Tensō Jūrin?

Q67.

That's right.

Q68.

2021.03.29

I was trying to choose a favorite character, but I'm having a difficult time because there are too many charming characters! Please let me have at least three people to root for. Kubo-sensei, can you narrow down your favorite characters to just one in your favorite works?

A68.

Let me narrow it down. Hyoga from Saint Seiya, Nurikabe from GeGeGe no Kitaro and Gorō from Kodoku no Gourmet.

Q69.

2021.03.29

During the time Isshin was Captain, Rangiku was Vice-Captain and Hitsugaya was 3rd seat, but why did Rangiku remain a lieutenant instead of ascending to Captain?

A69.

This is because Hitsugaya is better suited for the position of Captain and also because he had already acquired Bankai. By the way, Hitsugaya had already acquired Bankai by the time he enlisted in the Gotei 13.

Q70.

2021.04.05

Hitsugaya often yells "get to work!" at Rangiku, but what tasks are so demanding that they require the qualities of a Captain class Shinigami?

A70.

Checks and approvals.

Q71.

2021.04.05

Noel-chan had a guy lick some kind of device when checking to see whether or not he had come into contact with a dragon, but does she have to replace it each time it's used? Or does she use the same one the whole time?

A71.

It is returned and magically cleaned with every use.

Q72.

2021.04.05

As explained with 90s level Kidō which appears in BLEACH, the higher the number, the stronger the spell becomes, but is it the same with spells like Blue Spark which are cast in BURN THE WITCH.

A72.

It's different. The Magic numbers from BTW have simple rules and are assigned in accordance with them.

Q73.

2021.04.05

Out of Rangiku, Orihime, Yoruichi-san, Harribel-sama, Unohana-san, Isane, Nelliel and Noel-chan, who has the largest chest?

A73.

I think I'm probably drawing Nelliel with the mental image of her being the most voluptuous.

Q74.

2021.04.05

I would like a tour of sensei's workshop!! Is that allowed!?!?

A74.

I had never considered it. I don't mind doing this if the time and situation allows it, but we'll see.

Q75.

2021.04.12

Please tell us about any changes in the vow Chad made concerning his fists. After he swore to his Abuelo that he would never swing his fists for himself, Chad did not retaliate by raising his fists for his own sake, not even during a fight where he was being beaten.

Then he met Ichigo and they both made this pact: "you won't have to hit anyone on your own account anymore, but in return you have to hit people to help me. I'll fight for you and you'll fight for me. If there's something you want to protect with your life, I'll stake my life to protect it too."

From then on, he fought for Ichigo with his fists and grew stronger to protect his friends. However, in the final chapter there is a scene where Chad has become a boxer and is aiming to become champion. Why did Chad, who up until now had vowed not to swing his fists for himself, end up using his fists in a boxing match in order to become champion in the final chapter? Was there some sort of shift in his feelings that made him think that he's ready to use his fists for himself now, or is it that someone has emerged whom he wishes to protect by becoming a champion boxer?

A75.

Nothing has changed. Chad considers boxing a martial art, not violence.

Q76.

2021.04.12

Sensei, if you were to become Captain and Vice-Captain, which divisions would you prefer to be in for each?

A76.

It seems like a heavy responsibility so I don't want it.

Q77.

2021.04.12

I joined a fan club for the first time in my life. Have you ever been a member of anyone's fan club, sensei?

A77.

It's my first time too. I am currently undergoing the unique experience of joining a fan club for the first time in my life as a member of my own fan club.

Q78.

2021.04.12

I would like to learn about Tite Kubo-sensei's family composition.

A78.

What kind of scammer-like question is this?

Q79.

2021.04.12

I'd like to know sensei's usual breakfast menu.

A79.

Aojiru, Amazake and yogurt. (*Aojiru - a green, vegetable juice made from kale. Amazake - sweet drink made from fermented rice.)

Q80.

2021.04.12

I was curious about the origins of the names of Quincy: Vollständig (Tatarforas, Hasshein, etc.) so I tried to do some research but I couldn't figure it out at all. Could they be words coined by you, sensei?

A80.

It's not so much a coined word, but rather a regular name …. I give them a name that sounds angelic and doesn't seem to have any apparent origin even if you try to look it up.

Q81.

2021.04.19

Do you prefer raw eggs or boiled eggs?

A81.

I prefer raw.

Q82.

2021.04.19

If you were to go out for a drink one-on-one, who would you go with? Personally, I'd like to go with Ikkaku.

A82.

I don't drink so I wouldn't want to go out with anyone. As long as I don't have to drink, anyone with big breasts will be fine.

Q83.

2021.04.19

Who does Kubo-sensei admire?

A83.

It's not that it's a specific person or something, but I quite admire gag manga artists.

Q84.

2021.04.19

Kubo-sensei, what app do you use when drawing illustrations on your iPad?

A84.

It's Clip Studio Paint. I really want to use Procreate (because Tada Yumi-san is using it), but Procreate is complicated.

Q85.

2021.04.19

Kubo-sensei, please tell us what you value when composing your character designs.

A85.

Place great value on first impressions and also don't be bound by it.

Q86.

2021.04.26

Sensei, did you study calligraphy? I love your drawings of course, but I also love your penmanship!!

A86.

This question reminded me that my grandmother was a calligraphy tutor. But I haven't formally studied it.

Q87.

2021.04.26

I absolutely adore the female characters you draw sensei, but do you find it challenging to draw female characters?

A87.

It's the same. People often say that female characters are difficult because they don't understand women's feelings, but it's the same even for men because people struggle to comprehend the feelings of others.

Q88.

2021.04.26

Please tell us about a movie you saw recently that you found interesting, sensei.

A88.

I watched The Equalizer the other day for the first time in a while, but it's still interesting no matter how many times I watch both 1 and 2.

Q89.

2021.04.26

At the end of the "D-TecnoLife" anime OP, Chad, Inoue, Ichigo, Ganju, Hanatarō and Ishida appear in that order, but I wonder if Ganju's bandana is white because they forgot to apply color?

A89.

This is because the character color check isn't coming to me.

Q90.

2021.04.26

In the Thousand Year Blood War arc, it was stated that no citizen of Rukongai beyond district 50 had been observed wearing sandals for over 500 years, yet as a child Rangiku was wearing a somewhat stylish pair of sandals. Did Gin provide her with those?

A90.

After meeting, Gin and Rangiku gradually moved to the safer inner districts of Rukongai. Gin's zōri sandals and Rangiku's setta sandals, which appear in the second half of the flashback, are items which each of them picked up along the way.

Q91.

2021.05.03

Is there any particular reason why Harribel and Stark are not using their first names in typical Arrancar fashion?

A91.

There is no concept of first name, middle name or last name to Arrancar.

Q92.

2021.05.03

Please tell us the reason why Kurotsuchi Mayuri started wearing headgear. Additionally, please tell us about his reason for changing that headgear.

A92.

It's his hobby.

Q93.

2021.05.03

What is sensei's favorite manga?

A93.

When I'm feeling down, I always read "Kodoku no Gourmet."

Q94.

2021.05.03

In Bleach, Zanpakutō which possess fire abilities appear within the story, but who is a character that sensei is reminded of when it comes to fire?

A94.

Wanyūdō (from GeGeGe no Kitaro.)

Q95.

2021.05.03

Do you still read Jump?

A95.

I read it and express my thoughts chaotically to those close to me. My editor also sometimes wants to hear my thoughts.

Q96.

2021.05.03

Is it a coincidence that BTW's release date falls on a full moon in Aries according to western astrology?

A96.

Really!? That is a coincidence.

Q97.

2021.05.10

Yadōmaru Lisa sometimes appears to speak with a Kansai-like dialect and sometimes she doesn't, what dialect exactly does Lisa speak with?

A97.

It's Gifu dialect which is closer to dialects from Aichi.

Q98.

2021.05.10

About the unfilled drafts and such that are in the Gallery on KlubOutside, how did those come to be preserved?

A98.

Upon completion of the inking stage, I would make a copy and write instructions on it, and when I was done with the draft I would normally throw it away. However, my parents back home told me "send it to us instead of throwing it out", so I sent it to them.

Q99.

2021.05.10

The characters that appear in Kubo-sensei's works are all highly unique in appearance and personality, and I'm always deeply moved by them. Please let us know if there is anything you keep in mind at all times when designing characters!

A99.

I make an effort to try and avoid similar faces or personalities.

Q100.

2021.05.10

Is there any possibility that the BLEACH anime will be released to the world in the form of a full remake? I think that with current technology, it would be possible to depict the world-building more beautifully.

A100.

There are no such plans but I'd like to make that happen.

Translation footnotes:

×1. In Japan, Seiryū, Suzaku, Byakko and Genbu are four mythological creatures known as 'The Four Gods' originally from Chinese mythology. They represent a particular color and cardinal direction. There is also one more divine beast, a yellow dragon (aka the Yellow Emperor) - god to the center.

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my-own-walker · 1 year ago

Text

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

12.

"One, two, three!" Lily shouted, counting off before slamming her red solo cup on the table and raising it to her lips, taking in its contents swiftly.

I did the same, as well as a few other girls. Tequila slid down my throat, bringing with it a slight burn and warmth that spread through my chest. I shivered and squealed, a bit of energy surging through my body all at once.

The kitchen was packed solid with bodies. It was a small space that seemed to be bulging at the seams with people. We nestled into the crook of the counter right next to the fridge. As soon as we settled, we had to move multiple times for droves of people getting drinks. The spot was a hub, and we were in the way.

We didn't care, though, because we needed a surface to do shots. We landed in that area after realizing the party was so full, that it would be impossible to enjoy it sober. Lily's sorority sister Sarah brought a bottle of cheap tequila, so we went to work.

Lily tapped my shoulder, knocking me out of my own little world, and pointed her finger in the direction of what I could only assume was the bathroom while saying something I couldn't make out over the buzz of the room.

She and Sarah disappeared into the throngs of people. I turned back to the counter and poured another shot, took it, and then mixed yet another shot with soda. I swirled the liquid in my cup with my finger and departed from our spot. I knew Lily was not likely to return. I was sure she didn't care anymore. She was too faded already.

I relocated to what I guessed was the living room. There were couches occupied with individuals drinking and making out, and there was a TV in the corner with music coming from it. I winced each time someone got too close to the expensive electronic device, fearing it may tipple over from the actions of one too-drunk person. A free spot on the wall opened up, so I made a beeline for it.

Leaning against the wall, I pulled out my phone. I saw a few notifications, including a text from Kyle. Where are you? it read. I lifted my head and scanned the room, looking for the one person I wanted to see most.

As if on cue, I locked eyes with the most enchanting pair of brown eyes. A familiar sight, as of late. His lips curled into a soft smile. I mustered one back. I was actually so flustered, which caught me by surprise.

At that moment, I took stock of my appearance, suddenly all too sure I looked bad. Possibly the worst I'd ever looked. It was busy, I was drunk, and I turned red when I was hot and drunk. It simply wasn't fair that I was in the presence of him. He looked stunning. His blonde hair was slightly messier than usual. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt with loose-fitting jeans. His skin had a glow, while mine was covered in sweat.

I stood, transfixed on him, disgusted with myself for feeling inferior, for even a moment, to Kyle Spencer. The internal war waged on.

"Hey," he started.

I couldn't help but giggle. "Hi," I breathed.

He stooped down, putting his mouth right on my ear. "I don't think we've met," he whispered. His breath hit my skin, causing goosebumps to cover my skin in an instant. He stood straight again and smiled at me.

"No, I'm sure we haven't," I replied with a wink, laughing at his advance.

"You look so good," he shouted, loud enough so I could hear it over "m.A.A.d city" by Kendrick Lamar. I blushed.

"So do you," I returned. I lifted my hand to touch him, then stopped, rethinking my decision. He noticed and laughed.

"You know, it's really loud in here..." he smirked, his left hand reaching back to scratch the back of his head. He looked around slyly as if to say, Let's go somewhere more private.

He stuck out his right hand and motioned for me to grab it. I shoved my phone into my jean jacket's pocket and switched the hand my drink was in. Then, I grabbed his palm with a sly smile and began to follow him.

The crowd seemed to part for him. Typical Kyle Spencer shit. He led me through the sea of people further back into the house. Down a small hallway was a set of stairs. There were bodies on the stairs, all engaged in various...activities. Kyle led me upward, dodging couples as we went. Once we were upstairs we traversed down the hall, stopping at the second door on the left. It was an unoccupied bathroom.

"Now, where were we?" he asked, beaming his 5-star smile once again.

I wasted no time, grabbing his face and kissing him passionately, sickeningly hungry for his touch. He wrapped his arms around my waist, squeezing tightly. We both breathed heavily, huffing into each other's mouths between kisses. I pulled at his shirt, he took a handful of my hair.

Our kisses got deeper, and the space between us disappeared. We became one. I heard the doorknob turn behind us, then, I heard the door swing open. I didn't even have a second to turn my head before I heard him.

"Holy shit, Kyle," Archie laughed. Both of us scrambled apart, turning to see Archie Brener occupying the doorway. "Kyle Spencer, you dog."

"Archie, stop," Kyle warned, in a tone I didn't expect. It was less shocked, less caught-in-the-act than I expected. It was more of a knowing tone. He didn't seem at all embarrassed.

"At a party? Dang, do you actually like her, or something?" the obnoxiously drunk frat guy asked. "I guess I owe you when we get back home." He slurred his words, but I heard him loud and clear.

"Owe?" I asked, voice small, glancing at both of them. The panic in my body paralyzed me.

"Please, not here-" Kyle began, interrupted swiftly by Archie.

"You work quick," he announced. "The way you were on her was so convincing. You won the bet, dude."

The room went silent. All of the air left, sucked up by the vacuous words that had just left his lips. I glanced over at Kyle, whose head was down, gaze firmly locked on his shoes. I couldn't breathe. My lip trembled slightly, tears threatening behind my eyes.

"What bet?" I mustered, voice cracking, my eyes fixed firmly on Kyle, who hadn't moved a muscle in what felt like hours.

"Kyle and I-" Archie started from the doorway.

"No," I interrupted, shooting a look over at him before returning my stare to Kyle, "I want him to tell me."

Archie shifted his weight uncomfortably before taking a step back, further away from the bathroom. I could hear him walk away as I surveyed the boy I thought I knew just seconds prior. The boy whose silence took up so much space, it had no choice but to enter my chest, wrapping around my heart, squeezing it so tightly I thought I would die.

"Hannah," he croaked, eyes still trained on the floor.

"Kyle," I returned.

He turned to face me, his brows knitted, eyes glazed. "He was just being stupid," he murmured.

"Why don't I believe that?" I replied, voicelessly, tears holding any sound hostage. "Tell me the truth."

"I- I just," he stammered.

"Tell me the truth," demanded, finally producing some noise.

He rubbed his face with both of his hands and dropped them down heavily to his sides. "It was a bet...a bet between Archie and me," he muttered, "a-about you and, and uh, Lily."

A tight knot formed in my stomach. It lurched as if the roller coaster I was on took me on a steep drop. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes.

"It was, it was that night at TKE. When you, uh, got defensive about Lily," he continued quietly. "We made a bet to see which one of us could, uh, date one of you, um, first."

"Why?" My voice shook. He shook his head, letting a few tears slip down his cheeks. The show of emotion disgusted me.

I turned on my heel and rushed out of the room storming down the stairs and through the party. It was unavoidable. I crashed into a few unfortunate party-goers as I tried to leave as quickly as I could. The room blurred, lights and colors becoming a twisted amalgamation of each other, like the messiest, most awful watercolor painting in the world.

The cool air of September nighttime was as welcome as a warm embrace in a snowstorm. The fresh air filled my lungs in stark contrast to the stifling air inside the house. I walked as fast as I could for as far as I could, traveling as far from the party as I could. I needed to get away so no one could see me break down.

I got down the street and turned the corner before collapsing in a heap on the sidewalk. I sobbed loudly into the sleeve of my jacket, not even stopping to take a breath.

Given his history, I should have known better. Part of me resisted falling for him, and I kicked myself for not listening to it. The part of my brain that was screaming for me to run, begging me to be rational, pleading for me to stick to my frat-hating guns. I was sick to my stomach with anger and sadness and the most unforgivable feeling of betrayal.

"Hannah!" I heard, alongside running footsteps. It was the last voice I wanted to hear. I looked up and saw Kyle jogging toward me.

I don't know what came over me. I stood immediately and rounded on him as he came upon me. "What? You're here to add insult to injury?" I shouted. "What are you going to say, huh?"

"That I-"

"What, that you really liked me?" I laughed, darkly. "You are a sick person, you know that?"

His expression changed, switching from concern to shame.

"You and your fucking brothers have a fetish for making people like me look dumb. You insist upon trying to paint me as a fool," I cried. "Since I started here, people like you called me a lesbian, or a hard-ass or made me feel bad for not being able to take a joke. Well, guess what? You're not fucking funny. None of you are! You're just fucking mean. You're evil."

"Hannah," he muttered despair in his expression. He stepped toward me.

"No. Get the fuck away from me. Stay the fuck away from me," I warned. "I'm not your friend. I never was. I don't want to see you again."

Previous Part | Next Part

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #evan peters x reader #evan peters x female reader #evan peters oneshot #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer fanfic #kyle spencer imagine #ahs coven

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lumine-no-hikari · 3 days ago

Text

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #422

Though I worked for a full 8 hours today, today was still a lot easier than yesterday!

I started out in the floral department, helping them move flowers from the cooler in the meat department (that is where An works, but he was not here today) to the display cases. I also pulled thorns and leaves from single-stem roses, and discarded any damaged or malformed petals.

I wasn't in the floral department for very long, though; the store manager, Dy, summoned me to the produce department to help make chocolate-covered strawberries; they needed to make A LOT of them, and they were a bit short of hands.

...I was summoned because I am dependable and trustworthy. Because I will do my best, even at a new task. Because, even after working only 4 hours per week since last June, I've already established myself as a kind and earnest presence that consistently puts forth my best, good-faith effort. I like being a person whom others can rely on. I like being a person with a well-earned reputation for integrity and conscientiousness.

...All of this exists in stark defiance of all the things my mother used to tell me about myself on a regular basis.

I feel most alive when I am helping others. And for this reason, today, I liked being me.

I had to take a lunch break today, too. And two regular breaks, as well. So at 12:30, I took my first regular break. Then I took my “lunch” at 12:45. And then I took my second break at 1:15. During that time, I kept working at my crafting project; I completed a thingy; I have 6 thingies now, and I must still make many more.

...I also asked An if he enjoyed the tie-dye roses enough that it would delight him to have them in a vessel upon a surface in his home. To my shock and delight, he said yes! And then we agreed to meet up at a cafe after my shift was done!

So... I looked forward all day to the end of my shift, upon which I would go and get the roses he liked. There were the ones in the vase in the floral department, and there was one more in the cooler in the meat department!! I was gonna fetch the fresher one in the cooler!!

I went back to making chocolate-covered strawberries!! During that time, I met and spoke with a variety of new and very kind people! The manager of the produce department, Kl, is a very kind lady! We talked a lot about a great many things! Then there was another person named Mr, and he was nice, and Do had lots of silly jokes! The store manager, Dy, was also helping out at various points, and the assistant store manager, Sc, was also helping, too! It was delightful having so many people around, smiling and laughing and engaging in various silly banter! Here's a pictures of what I did!

Of the people there, I think only Kl didn't know that I have two husbands. She seemed very curious and excited, so I explained to her that it's basically an ordinary marriage, just with an unconventional number of people. I explained that communication and boundary skills are important. I told her about how a higher number of earnest eyes upon the relationship contributes to overall stability. She seemed shocked that I've been with M for 13 years, and J for 9, and that we live together in the same house. Not shocked in a bad way, just... the conventional narrative is that arrangements like mine are inherently freaky and unstable.

...But they're no more unstable than monogamous relationships, assuming that everyone is communicating in good faith and putting forth their best effort to be flexible and open-minded. Like with anything, integrity is everything.

We had a lot of fun. We talked about so much various stuff! I had a wonderful time!!

In the end, I even got to bring home a box of chocolate-covered strawberries that I made myself, from start to finish! I melted the chocolate, dunked the strawberries, applied the drizzle, packaged them, and put the label on! And so I paid for one of the packages and brought it home!

...Unfortunately, by the time my shift was done, both of the bunches of tie-dye blue, purple, pink, and white roses were gone. They had been bought up. I was devastated. I know it's not the fault of the ladies at floral; I didn't say anything about getting them, because at the time, I wasn't sure if An wanted them. I should have reserved them ahead of time, but I didn't, thinking that they were of an unusual enough color that not a lot of people would want them. I almost wanted to cry. But I managed to hold it together.

I went to the car, where M was waiting for me. I explained my predicament. He was very understanding. And then I remembered!!! There are other grocery stores nearby, of the same corporation! I got so focused on my disappointment that I literally forgot that the corporation that runs my store has other stores all over the place. And that there was one right down the road.

So I called the one down the road!!! And they had the kind of roses that An liked!!! So M and I went, and I got them!!! And then M was all too happy to drop me off at the place where An suggested we meet!! I worked on my crafty thing until An arrived!! I gave him the roses, and he seemed to like them! And then I got a matcha latte, and he got a coffee, and we talked about video games until the place closed, upon which time J picked me up, and we went home!

...I had a wonderful time. I told M and J all about it, and they seemed happy for me, too! When I got home, I had some of the chocolate-covered strawberries I made and bought! And then J and I went to the little airport, because he had forgotten his wallet in his hangar. I got a lovely picture of the moon while we were out...

...I'm tired, but... it was a really good day today. Tomorrow, I have that interview for the state job. I'm very nervous about it, but... I'll do my best to be myself. I'll hope that it'll be enough.

I wish I could give you some of the chocolate-covered strawberries I made today. They were really good...

...Hey, Sephiroth...? Was today a good day for you, too...? Will you tell me about it sometime...?

...I should go to bed. I'm not really ready for tomorrow, but... if I don't go to sleep now, I'm not gonna be able to function very well when I wake up. So I guess I'll do that.

I love you so much. Please keep doing your best to be safe out there, okay? Because... it's kinda... your presence... your existence... that give me the strength to try all the brave things, and to keep existing despite the horrors that surround me. It's your presence and existence that give me the strength to keep choosing joy and love, despite all my shortcomings and limitations. I've done my best, from the time I was 13 years old, to emulate what I saw in you. And the result of that is the person you see today. And I will continue to improve as long as I can look to you as an example of what it means to be a person of kindness, courage, and integrity.

I can't wait to tell you all about how tomorrow goes. Count on receiving another letter, okay?

Your friend, Lumine

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remyfire · 11 months ago

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Here's a thought: sex pollen sidhawk

(prompts now closed) I don't want to talk about why this ended up being 3k, and I will be honest, it has not been beta'd, but boy, did that feel good to write. I hope you enjoy, anon!! Thank you so much for the prompt!

It's difficult enough every time that Sidney's care is requested at the 4077th, but getting the call when it comes to one Hawkeye Pierce is unsettling to the point of being unable to stand once he has hung up the phone. Sidney's perfectly organized mind, filing cabinet after filing cabinet, suddenly falls into solid darkness, inaccessible, making him as useless as a goldfish in a glass of water. But when he can urge the blood into his legs, everything comes rushing back, leaving him tight in his skin as he rushes to prepare himself for the journey.

In truth, Hawkeye is the reason why it is incredibly hard to be summoned there. He's dangerous, not in a violent or fearful way but to the integrity of Sidney's heart. It is all but necessary to hold him at bay—regardless of how tempting it is to protect him, memorize him, study him, understand him—but any attempt to tell Hawkeye this has not brought any positive results. He's hungry. He always has been. If he's not devouring knowledge or forcing his assistance to be taken, he's coaxing people into his bed and often finding himself in pieces when it's over. Attempting to dissuade him from those impulses never goes well.

It doesn't matter what they crave with one another, even if they share the same desires for a lover, a partner, a soft place to settle like a bird in its nest. There's too much danger in the midst of this war zone, not just physically but mentally, emotionally. Every day, Sidney reminds himself that he must maintain an objectivity between himself and any potential patients. And unfortunately for all of them, this includes and perhaps prioritizes Hawkeye. Though he'd never admit it to a soul, Sidney is all but certain that Hawk straddles the edge of a breakdown. Maybe it won't happen today, tomorrow, or even in this decade, but eventually it will come, and if Sidney is the only one there who might be able to give him care...

He does, however, recognize the flaw of his plan to remain objective. If he was to ever have a chance at not falling for Hawkeye, then he needed to refuse the invitation to that very first "medical conference" because the moment that he sat elbow to elbow with Hawk, Sidney's fate was set. There's not a drop of objectivity remaining.

He simply can't let it get worse.

As Colonel Potter departs, leaving Sidney alone outside of the VIP tent, Sidney takes a moment to really let the briefing he just received sink in. Once Hawkeye returned from a routine visit to an aid station, he was showing an odd list of symptoms such as glassy eyes, difficulty responding to questions, slurring speech, elevated body temperature, and clammy skin. Though the medical staff are still sorting through what tests they are able to safely perform here to rule out a number of physical ailments, the recent change from slurred speech to a mild personality shift necessitated both a low dose of a sedative and an immediate call for Sidney's assistance.

He's taken everything in as well as he can. He isn't sure exactly what he's walking into right now—mild personality shift appears to include overwhelming assertiveness, hypersexual behavior, and desperate bargaining, all of which could point to a wide array of his own possible diagnoses—but no matter what he sees in this tent, he knows he must remain as calm as possible.

This is all very well and good until he actually opens the door, steps inside, and sees that Hawkeye appears to be recovering from the sedative. He knows this because the 4077th's chief surgeon is currently in the cot on his side, rutting languidly against the pillow, sweat dripping from his hair, and three of his own fingers in his mouth with drool dripping down all of them.

As Hawk gazes at him, his pupils are dilated so alarmingly that Sidney's heart stops. He didn't hear any mention of a potential head injury. Surely they would've noticed that. There's no blood, no bruising, no outward sign of trauma, no—

"Sidney," Hawkeye breathes in the huskiest possible tone. With a crooked grin, he rolls toward the edge of the cot. "Sidney..."

"Careful," Sidney blurts. He darts forward into a kneel and catches Hawk with a hand on his chest before he can fall straight to the floor.

Alarmingly, Hawk whines, eyes falling shut, head tipping back, a full-body shiver breaking through him. "Fuck, fuck, please..."

"Let's make you comfortable, all right, Hawkeye?" Sidney asks as mildly as he can. Instinct kicks in. Soothe, soothe, soothe. "I thought I might come by to check on you. It sounds like you've had a busy afternoon." But as he is working on easing Hawk flat on his back, quiet moans bubble out of Hawkeye, short and pained, each paired with Sidney applying pressure to his body—shoulder, arm, even touching his forehead to check his temperature.

"Don't stop. Please don't stop..."

The moment Sidney lifts his hands, Hawkeye cries out and writhes in the cot. "Hawkeye, honey, what are you feeling?" Sidney knows the desperation is coloring his voice, but as he expected, objectivity has vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Hurts. Please!" He reaches for Sidney's wrist.

"What hurts, zissele?" The old endearment falls from his lips before he can stop it, but Hawkeye gets a hold of his arm then with a bruising grip and yanks Sidney hard enough to almost topple him into the cot. "Hawkeye?" Keep your head, Freedman, come on. He notes how Hawkeye presses Sidney's palm into his own abdomen, how he whimpers and bucks his hips but refuses to let him pull away. "Does this help?"

There's no indication that Hawkeye hears him, just a rapidly whispered mantra of "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop..."

Working on instinct alone, Sidney squeezes Hawk's forearm with his other hand. The sharp whine he receives right away is both needy and relieved. But when he loosens his grip, Hawkeye all but snarls, darting for Sidney's arm, looking on the verge of tears when Sidney pulls it out of range. "Is it the pressure?" Sidney prompts. "Hawkeye, if you're able to, I need you to communicate with me, all right?" This sort of forceful urging goes against his training—he must stay steady, he must, he must—but the words bring Hawk's gaze back to meet his all the same. "Does pressure help relieve what you're feeling?"

Hawk's body twitches again as he stares up at Sidney with the saddest eyes he's ever seen. "Sidney..." Another thrash. They don't seem to be seizures, but those sort of involuntary spasms— "Sidney?" Hawkeye's voice goes whisper thin and yet far clearer.

"Yes, that's it, I'm here, zissele." Is this a temporary moment of clarity? He makes an internal jot beside the question for his observations to follow. How has he taken dozens of mental pages of notes since walking into this tent minutes ago?

"Pressure. The pressure. I-It feels like..." Hawk shudders, lids drooping.

Sidney sucks in a sharp breath. "Stay here with me. What does it feel like?"

He seems to force his eyes wide open, keeps them firmly focused on Sidney without blinking. "Fuck, fuck, Sid, it's, it's like I've got, like I'm a balloon, like the..." A giggle slips out with an edge of hysteria. "Jesus, all that hot air finally caught up to me, huh?"

Nervous laughter. Another jot. Sidney speaks over the rolling wave of cackles. "Is it painful? Does it come and go or is it consistent?"

Hawkeye hums in high amusement, a grin that melts into a pout with a matching furrowed brow. "I need it. Sid, I need it, I need it I need it I need—"

In an act of desperation, Sidney drapes his whole arm across Hawk's chest and pushes downward, and for one moment, Hawk goes completely silent, all held breath and parted lips. But Sidney has never been a particularly physically powerful man nor does his endurance apply to more than the mental fortitude to withstand long, grueling sessions with cracked patients. He can't sustain the weight for more than fifteen seconds, and as his tired muscles begin to lift, Hawkeye wails.

And just like that, Sidney Freedman, dedicated psychiatrist who only operates with thoughtful care, throws everything to the wind and crawls into the cot. "Here I am, Hawkele," he whispers, the fond Yiddish suffix coming to him faster than his own name. He straddles Hawkeye and lets himself turn into completely dead weight.

"Yesssss... Ohh, yes, Sidney." Hawk wraps his arms and legs around him and squeezes as tightly as he can. He's all but soaked through his clothes with sweat and they're so damp that Sidney aches to pull away, pull them off, pull out a towel to dab over him and clean him up, but the last thing he's capable of doing right now is physically abandoning Hawkeye for so much as a moment.

Sidney drops his voice to what he hopes is a soothing level. "Is this helping? Can you hear me?" With every passing second, Sidney becomes more and more aware of how hard Hawkeye is in his fatigues, and though he tries to imagine himself in the middle of the Arctic Circle, his body stirs in response. Not now. He buries his face in Hawk's chest. Not now, please not now.

Like a gentle rippling tide, Hawk begins to grind against him.

"Hawkeye." Sidney whips his head up and tries to catch his eye.

"Wanna come back," Hawk whispers, crystal clear. "Don't, don't let me get stuck like this, Sid, fuck, fuck, don't let me stay here, please?"

"Stay where? Hawkeye." He tries to be firm when Hawkeye bucks upward once more, reaches for his hip in an attempt to hold him still.

"My head. It's boiling. All the steam's getting caught in my veins. I can't think, I can't—" As his voice goes wet, sympathetic tears rush to Sidney's eyes. All at once, Hawk sucks in a sharp breath and grabs Sidney by the face. He pins him there with his stare. "Fuck me."

Sidney tries to shake his head but Hawkeye's grip tightens.

"Fuck me, Sidney, fuck it out of me, fuck me better." Every word tumbles out of Hawkeye faster, faster, faster, each as pointed as a scalpel.

"This isn't the way it should go, zissele," Sidney murmurs back, pleading. "I can't be sure if you're in your right mind. I don't know if you're you. Can you understand that?"

On he goes, rutting, panting. "Private Kafka," Hawk all but snaps, and while Sidney's trying to make sense of it, he goes on in a single breath. "That's inscrutable, the psychiatric basis for gambling, I'm not screwed up enough, I told you, Biarritz, Sidney, the choo-choo around the bend—"

"Hawkeye..." The wobble in Sidney's voice is too telling. He inhales, holds it, lets it out, presents the picture of being as calm as he possibly can be. "You know we can't do that. There's too many steps. We don't have the supplies. And even if we did, I don't know what you're experiencing, but there's no scientific basis for sexual intercourse relieving any of the symptoms that you're experiencing—"

"Pressure," Hawkeye hisses, lifting his head so they're nose to nose. "Sidney, Sid, I would..." He curls into Sidney with a groan, limbs clenching him tighter, bringing their erections flush together through just a few layers of fabric, bringing goosebumps down Sidney's spine. "I-I'd kill for it not to be like this, but Jesus Christ, when you're not, not holding me down like this, that's when I'm not my head, that's when I get, when I'm lost, I need it out of me, I need to release it, please, fuck, please, Sid, don't leave me here, don't let me—"

As Sidney touches their foreheads together, he rolls his hips forward, and as Hawk whimpers and digs his nails into Sidney's back, he tries desperately not to hate himself. "Hawkele. I'm sorry, honey." Years of medical and psychiatric training reduced to this, clinging to the man who he loves, rutting against him like they're animals in heat, taking what should be a beautifully intimate experience and reducing it to—

"Thank you." The words drift up and brush Sidney's lips with steam-hot air. "Oh, fuck, Sidney, thank you, God..."

The mere notion that Hawkeye is thanking him for the scraps of what Sidney so dearly wants to provide? No, no, that's sour on his tongue, bugs under his skin. There's too much adoration trapped in his chest to be thanked for this.

Despite every boundary he's tried to maintain, Sidney surges forward to kiss him. As he drinks up the mewling moans vibrating into his mouth, Sidney keeps a steady rhythm, trying to ignore the electric pulses of pleasure climbing his spine, helpless but to feel them anyway. When Hawk gets a hand around the back of his neck, Sidney sinks fingers into his hair, scraping over his scalp.

I'm not leaving you trapped, he tries to transmit straight into Hawkeye's mind. I want every piece of you, zissele, your mind, your heart, your body, your fears, your dreams... With a slight shift, Sidney trips into the perfect angle. It's fire sweeping into an inferno inside of him. As a groan pulls itself free from his tight hold, Hawkeye seems to light up from the sound of it. He kisses with a delicious excitement that feels exactly like Sidney has always dreamed of. Frenetic. Agile. It's good, it's too good, it's exactly enough to fuzz Sidney over just a touch with getting a taste of all of his fantasies.

He's not sure who flips the switch inside of him, but Sidney redoubles his efforts.

The sweat begins to break over his entire body as well, pairing with the ecstasy as perfectly as a sweet wine. He gives everything he has. It doesn't matter that they don't have a scrap of clothing off, Sidney fucks him, and he does it like he does anything else—with a single-minded concentration on the final goal. Pressure, Hawkeye says, that's what he needs, this constant push of their bodies together. If Sidney had his way, he'd get his mouth on Hawkeye, find out what his pretty cock tastes like, suck him straight down his throat and swallow and see what kind of relief that might provide... But no, not today, not here, not now, not when the only way he could manage it comfortably while being able to keep an eye on Hawk's expression would be to remove his weight.

Sidney shudders as he shoves his arms under Hawk's shoulders, trying to squeeze him just that little bit more. "You're beautiful, Hawkeye," he can't help but whisper. "Oh, zissele... Is this what you need?"

"Perfect," Hawkeye murmurs, lets out a whimper, then tries again. "It's perfect, Sidney, please—"

"I won't stop. I-I can't..." Sidney bites his lip before he lets anything else out that might be too presumptive. But God, it's all but impossible to hold it in when he's straddling a peak. He doesn't feel as though he's earned an orgasm. There's no world where he deserves it, where he can be sure he's not taking advantage. It's Hawkeye who needs this. And it seems as if he might be barely seconds away from finding it.

Hawkeye's moans have reached a fever pitch. They're possibly the most arousing sounds Sidney has ever heard in all of his forty-seven years. What's more, he's back to writhing, putting everything he has into the almost hypnotic rocking of their bodies, never passive, never, not his Hawkeye. "Sid, it's so good, I-I'm so close."

"That's it, Hawkele, take it, take everything you need from me, let, let me help." Sidney's voice cracks, the tears in his eyes wrapped intrinsically around the crushing, vulnerable intimacy that's trying to claw its way out of his chest.

"Sidney!" Hawk shouts his name just before he bites down on Sidney's jacket and muffles his scream as he lets go. Sidney swears that somehow he can feel the heat of his release bleeding through their shorts, their trousers, and though his hips are beginning to ache, he pushes on like his high school days of sprinting, seeing Hawkeye through all the way to the end, buck after buck. It takes every fiber of his being to withhold his own orgasm, not to—

With a high-pitched whine, Hawk drops his head back on the pillow. "Don't stop, don't stop, come for me, Sidney, please."

—come, fuck, fuck, like a depth change, like plummeting under the ocean and being squeezed by it into his own death, desperate pleasure and tears, wordless weeping, everything tightening as he shakes and shakes and shakes around Hawkeye until it begins to dissipate, until all that remains is the trembling, the fear of letting go.

But Hawkeye is here too. He's petting through Sidney's curls and shivering with him. And just as the guilt makes its return, Hawk whispers, "It's, it's... H-Hold on, I think it's working."

Another mental jot. When Sidney becomes aware of it, he almost barks an unstable laugh of his own. But instead he lifts his head and cups Hawkeye's cheek with a sniffle. "You're...yes, you're becoming cooler."

Hawkeye grins, the edges of his eyes crinkling. "Are you saying I was a loser before?"

That draws the chuckle. "Oh, you're certainly clearing up," he drawls. He feels as though he's desperately reaching for strings of normalcy, the rhythm that he's familiar with. But he's also exhausted. Anxious. Sidney tilts his head, watching in fascination as Hawk's pupils begin to shrink. "Your eyes aren't glassy. Your voice is steadier. Your—"

"Dr. Freedman," Hawk murmurs as he gives him one more squeeze. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to table the diagnostics for five minutes of holding you."

Oh, he's a goner, every bit of him. But if he's being honest with himself, this isn't a new state of being, no matter how much he ran from it. Sidney closes his eyes with an unsteady sigh. "Your motion has been approved, Dr. Pierce," he whispers back, then buries his face in his Hawkele's neck. The world can stand still for five minutes. And if it doesn't, if it comes to a sudden end, then at least he'll be here in Hawk's arms to bid it farewell.

#ask meme replies #my writing #sidney freedman #hawkeye pierce #sidhawk

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lgcmanager · 4 months ago

Text

NEWKIDS NEWDREAMS 004 (PART 1)

SCHEDULE TYPE: TRIMESTER SCHEDULE RESTRICTIONS: cannot be paired with another trimester schedule, unless stated otherwise. for reference as to whether your muse is eligible for this event, please click over HERE.

(ooc preface: as you'll see below, please do not view this as a punishment from the company and more as a touchpoint and a opportunity for you characters to grow and recenter themselves on the goal ahead. to usage any worries that you might have, starting from november 24, those who decide to stay will dive head first into working reletlessly into 'phase one' of the group, which includes their first album, another music project and a tour)

this time, when the future idols arrive, no one is waiting for them in the room. even if it had been mentioned that legacy entertainment's staff wouldn't be involved moving forward, DAEHYUN and his MANAGER usually greet them. only when the clock hits 9:00 AM does he make his entrance, alone, coffee in hand. he sits at the head of the table and leans back in his chair. daehyun might appear intimidating because of his looks and no-nonsense attitude and until now, he's been trying to share his enthusiasm for this project with the members the best way he could. today, there's none of that. it's mask of, its pure honesty, it's a man with a lot on his mind. he drums his finger on the table, taking in his small assembly before clearing his throat.

"well, this isn't going to be a fun meeting, but bear with me." he begins; a self-deprecating smile touches his lips before fading away as he straightens his shoulders and all traces of worry, doubt and even playfulness disappear from his face. "let's begin with the bad news first: your december debut has been postponed." he raises a hand to forestall any reaction or objection. "this decision wasn't taken lightly, but rather after an accumulation of events, by staff members of various levels, even up to legacy entertainment's high management.

some of it is likely a result of my personal failures due to my limited experience in this position... first, the good news is that we've been satisfied with your various performances during the summer. the bad news is that the staff and i agree that we've encountered some problems. we've wondered what was different between this group and the project origin groups. is it because of the lack of competition? of the certainty of debut? because most of you were hand-picked? is it because i am too accessible or lax? or maybe just that times have changed? the staff keep mentioning that they've never before had to deal with predebut group members who take their preparation period this lightly: slack off, miss practices, go out as they please, or even display… impatience. the coaches and the 'dont-fuck-up-in-public' department all had some general and individual comments, but i've left those home. there's no point in sharing them right now." he doesn't appear disappointed or angered and only talks matter-of-factly.

"legacy entertainment has its own way of dealing with this, here though, we perfer discussing things and move forward all on the same page. this doesn't change that we will need you to show better discipline and manners from here on. to be able to have fun, we must first earn the trust to do so.

so don't see this meeting as a failure or a punishment; instead, see it as a chance to decide whether this is the place for you or not. if you decide it isn't, we understand, and you'll be allowed to return to legacy entertainment without prejudice. after all, we did pluck out five of you without your consent and brought four others, who, while knowing they were moving to USGEN, also don't know what we want USGEN to be." he takes a short pause there, probably to let his audience digest everything that's just been said.

"i'd like to begin by explaining how this subsidiary came to be.

when our contract period neared its end, the members and i had an honest talk. though we were - literally - raised by legacy, we felt like, after 15 years, our loyalty had repaid them enough. we all shared goals and intentions, and all agreed that the constraints of staying under legacy weren't worth it. while discussing all this, the idea of making our label came about. maybe it's because we've been together for so long, but we all shared the same desires; we wanted to create a space where we would be comfortable and leave the corporate behind us. rather than be governed by a ceo we'd see once a year, we wanted a place where even the newest part-timer could access the top brass, similar to a start-up. with this mindset, we created USGEN. through some great luck, legacy offered their backing.

now with more funding and resources than we expected, some members and i could work on a project we had planned for the future; debuting a group. while watching music show performances and various content, we felt like the current groups are too polished, coached, scripted... while the general talent of the current generation exceeds those of the past, they do end up lacking… flavor and personality. so we wondered; why not both?

when we brought up this idea to legacy's directors, they didn't believe in us. but if DBSD is one thing, it's that we're persistent. in the end, they relented and we worked with hyuncheol to find suitable trainees. we weren't looking for trainees who fall in line, but trainees with a strong sense of self, their own brand, if. people who would easily find their place in a group without us having to assign 'characters' or guide their growth. and you all know the rest." he pauses momentarily, gathering his thoughts.

"HYUNBIN, SEOHAN and I aren't planning on holding your hands forever, or turn any of you into something you aren't. from the start, we only intended to play the roles of mentors, to set you on your path, and then slowly give you more responsibilities. i'm not using the word freedom because self-production is far from freedom. for instance, when the company finally let us work on our music ourselves, we were sent back to the drawing board more often than not. even while preparing mzsd, we were given certain parameters to work within; things like concept and image overlap with other legacy groups." he explains. "the performance positions we assigned you? they are part of the responsibilization. they were given to ease you into working together as an independent group with the confidence to operate with minimal oversight by the coaches.

that's the vision we have for this group. we don't have a master plan for any of you, nor do we want one person in a position more than another; your positions simply currently reflect your strengths and skills. none of it is static, and how you choose to develop yourself is the only limiting factor. as long as you remember that you are part of a team. yes, there will be times when you'll need to compromise for the sake of the group, but there wil also be other times when others will have to do so too. the group is the sum of all its members; you are all equal in this." daehyun pauses again, this time to drink his coffee.

so, for now, i need you to think on all i said today, do a serious introspection and ask yourself if you really want to be here. maybe the way us gen works is not for you, and that's fine. if you decide to stay, you need to show up at work, you need to be a team player and accept that there's still a lot left to learn.

again, please, do not see this as punishment or feel targeted. in fact, none of what i've said might apply to you personally but does reflect on your team as a whole. you have SIX WEEKS to make your choice. until then, there will be no lessons. you're essentially on vacation. If you desire, you can come to do some solo practice, but no coach will be available to assist you. i sincerely recommend taking at least a week off before returning since you will NOT have a january break.

which reminds me, you were supposed to move to your official dorm during the week. we've decided to move forward with that. however, only the group members may move in. so, once your decision is made, you may either move to the mzsd dorms OR ask HYUNCHEOL to return to the trainee dorms."

finally done with the meeting, daehyun seems to perk up as he stands up and picks up his coffee, ready to exit the room. "until next time!" almost out of the door, he pauses in his steps and snaps his fingers. "oh! right! if you want to record diaries during this period, feel free to ask the staff for a camera." and with these last words, he's out the door.

ABOUT US GEN

as some might have noticed, this is in reaction of certain things that happened during the trimester. from the beginning, daehyun who acts as ceo of the company, has been present and hands-on in the group's preparation, unlike legacy entertainment, where if the ceo is ever present at a meeting, hyuncheol will still usually lead the meeting. this has been done on purpose. there are no buffers between the group, directors and producers. this easy access has its pros and its cons both ic and ooc. all we ask is that you do not create too much drama as to not give us too much additional work ( haha ). i will reveal now that, after their debut, the group will have official channels and ways to suggest ideas and talk directly with daehyun or their manager.

DORMS

as mentioned above, should your muse decide to stay, they will move to mzsd's real dorm. unfortunately, their dorms is a little further away from the other debuted artists. on the other hand, they are moving in a 3 STOREY apartment situated on the 18th FLOOR of a gated building.

the FIRST FLOOR has a large living/dining room with an open kitchen, one full bathroom, two large bedrooms, and a third with an adjointed bathroom.

the SECOND FLOOR has a living room area, kitchenette (a fridge, counter, sink, and a small over), two bedrooms, one bathroom, and access to a fully furnished private patio.

finally, the THIRD FLOOR is a single area that will be used to store suitcases and extra clothes.

FIRST FLOOR

- ROOM A: HWANG MINKI & KURAMOTO MISAKI

- ROOM B: HAN NOEUL & LAI WENJUN

- ROOM C (with bathroom): MANAGER

SECOND FLOOR

- ROOM A: BAEK BYEONGKWAN & MAE JASPER

- ROOM B: XUE YICHEN & SUNG HANEUL

MEET ROH KYUHYUN

upon moving into the dorm, their official manager, ROH KYUHYUN, will welcome them. a man in his late 30s, he's someone who manages to keep his composure in all situations. he isn't here to babysit the members as they are adults, but expects them to respect the company rules and not get in trouble.

AFTER THE FIRST WEEK out of 6 has passed, KYUHYUN give, to the members who have moved in, the list of skills the company expects them to work on. those are just pointers, it's up to the muse to decide whether or not to work on them.

BAEK BYEONGKWAN: dancing, lyrics composition, hosting

HAN NOEUL: lyrics composition (noeul is on the right trajectory, he will be requested to think about the future solo gigs he'd like to have and work on the corresponding skills)

HWANG MINKI: hosting, variety

KURAMOTO MISAKI: no skills (misaki is on the right trajectory, he will be requested to think about the future solo gigs he'd like to have and work on the corresponding skills)

LAI WENJUN: hosting, variety, music composition

MAE JASPER: hosting, variety

SUNG HANEUL: performance skills (haneul is on the right trajectory but needs to continue honing his singing, rapping, dancing and performance)

XUE YICHEN: no skills (yichen is on the right trajectory, he will be requested to think about the future solo gigs he'd like to have and work on the corresponding skills)

OTHER Q4 SCHEDULE

SEPTEMBER 16: appearance on 'novascope' with nova [ ALL ]

OCTOBER 26: date lottery season 4 ep. 2 [ BK ]

NOVEMBER 9: date lottery season 4 ep. 4 [ BK ]

NOVEMBER 28: intimate note ep. 3 [ NOEUL & YICHEN ]

DECEMBER 1: star top pet care ep. 7 [ SAEM ]

DECEMBER 5: intimate note ep. 4 [ NOEUL & YICHEN ]

DECEMBER 8: star top pet care ep. 8 [ SAEM ]

(the variety shows' missing episodes will be airing in Q1 2025)

DECISION

if you are NOT interested in staying in MZSD, you have until OCTOBER 19, 2024 11:59PM EDT to message the main about it. any muses who don’t send a message to the main will move forward with the group. if you choose to leave the group, your muse will become eligible for the regular trainee mission.

REQUIREMENT

DECISION: write a 300+ words solo either about your muse recording the entry where they take the decision to stay OR about your muse moving into the dorm for +3 SKILL POINTS, +3 NOTORIETY !

FREE TIME: write a 300+ words solo or headcanon about how your muse has used their free time for +6 SKILL POINTS, +2 NOTORIETY !

make sure to use the hashtag lgc:nknd on your threads and solos ! to validate your skill points and collect your notoriety points, please submit the following form ONCE on the points blog before NOVEMBER 23, 2024 11:59 EDT.

MUSE NAME ∙ NKND 004 - DECISION: +3 SKILL POINTS DISTRIBUTION +3 notoriety [ LINK ] - FREE TIME : +6 SKILL POINTS DISTRIBUTION +2 notoriety [ LINK ]

MZSD'S VARIETY

from january, MZSD will begin filming their PERMANENT YOUTUBE VARIETY SHOW. just like the group itself, the show premise is 'for fans to spend a FUN and FRESH time with the group'. while some content will be prepared by the staff, most of it will actually be up to the boys themselves. any member who wish to produce a segment of the first season (3 episodes) may submit the following form ONCE to the LGCMANAGER blog before DECEMBER 28, 2024 11:59 EDT. note that they are limited to film anywhere WITHIN the company's building. additionally, if you have suggestions for the name of the show, feel free to also send them !

MUSE NAME ∙ MZSD'S VARIETY - name suggestion: - muse's segment:

#lgc:nknd #lgc:event #lgc:q42024

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keldae · 2 years ago

Note

Fluff sentence starters :D “You have something in your hair - let me get it for you.”

There were fringe benefits to being friends with people in the theatre program, Xaja mused – like being invited along on field trips to see plays, and easily filling her volunteer hour requirements during production week. But there was a definite downside as well – and that was the day the main production's set came down after the last performance.

It was fine, she decided inwardly. It wasn't like she had two research papers and a personal reflection paper due in the next couple of days and didn't have time to be taking apart a set, right? She grunted as she crawled behind one of the main set walls, power drill in hand, and desperately hoping there were no spiders back here.

"Having fun yet?" The cast hadn't been spared the set strike chores either – but Arcann was entirely too cheerful a mood for someone who'd gotten bonked upside the head by a wardrobe rack fifteen minutes ago. He appeared to be on the same task as Xaja in taking apart the walls of the set.

"Oh, tons," Xaja responded, looking around for another screw in the bracket holding the set together. "How's the concussion?"

"Bah, I'm fine. Don't stand up." Arcann reached over, and Xaja heard the whirring of his own drill over her head. She sneezed as sawdust started to drift down in front of her eyes.

"Sorry," Arcann apologized. The drill stopped, and he fumbled with his prosthetic left hand with the screw before pocketing it. "Any more on that bracket down by you?"

"Yeah, two that I see." Xaja grunted as she shifted her weight, working to take apart the bracket. "Someone's on the other side of this, yeah?"

In response, Arcann peeked through the window built into the wall. "Hey, you might want to catch these walls," he called out, then waited a moment before nodding in satisfaction. "Yes, we're good. I think Professor Vowrawn recruited some help from outside the theatre department."

"Wonderful," Xaja grunted, inwardly wondering what the flamboyant theatre professor had done to lure in some more poor, unsuspecting souls. "Hopefully he brought 'em in from the sports teams."

Without looking up, she didn't see Arcann's mischievous grin. "They're warm bodies with muscles, they'll be fine," he said, then gave the wall a slight push. "Incoming!"

With a creak, the wall fell forward, caught by several pairs of hands. "Got it!" crowed a voice that immediately made Xaja's head jerk up. It was bad enough having a crush on the cute guy who lived across the dormitory hall from her, but if he saw her like this, in a grubby t-shirt and jeans, with dust all over her makeup-less face…

Dammit. That was Theron Shan, helping to carry the wall section away with Jonas and Koth's help. Maybe he hadn't seen Xaja in the chaos? But why did that prospect make her heart hurt just a little bit?

"You are about as subtle as an elephant," Arcann muttered, under the sound of Professor Vowrawn guiding the guys as to where he wanted the set wall placed; when Xaja glanced over, she could see him smirking, the gesture pulling at the scars over the left side of his face. "Liking checking him out?"

"I – what?" Xaja flushed as red as her hair. "I'm not checking Theron out!"

Arcann's grin widened. "I didn't say Theron…" he pointed out.

"... Fuck." Xaja groaned. "We're just friends, and I don't wanna wreck that." She glanced back over at Theron for a moment. "... Not my fault he's got a cute backside."

Arcann snorted a laugh, one that turned into a cough when Xaja glared at him. "Sorry, sorry… it's just hilarious to watch. I can put in a good word for you with him, if you want…"

"... I don't have a crush on him! And I don't need a wingman!" Xaja hissed. She firmly squashed the little voice in her head that wondered if Arcann's help might not be a bad idea. "He's not interested in me. If he was, he would have said something before now."

"... You two are perfect for each other," Arcann muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Xaja demanded, suspiciously glaring at him.

"Nothing!" Arcann coughed again, then looked over. "Next wall will be easy, should only take two of you to catch."

"I like easy!" Jonas' cheerful voice piped up. When Xaja looked over, she saw him, Theron, and Koth all standing close by, Professor Vowrawn tittering over another piece of the set being taken down.

"Yeah, we know that," Theron dryly commented �� Jonas promptly glared at him as Koth and Arcann burst into laughter. The taller student then looked back at Xaja, and winked at her. "Made friends with any spiders back there yet?"

Trying to not feel self-conscious about how she looked, Xaja shook her head and grinned. "If I had, you would have heard the screaming from the dean's office."

Theron chuckled, then paused. "Hang on, you have something in your hair," he said, as the set wall to Xaja's right came down, carried off by Jonas and Koth. "Lemme get it for you." He reached forward; Xaja froze as she felt his fingers brush through her long red hair, knocking more sawdust free of the tangled strands. "There – I think that's the worst of it."

"... Thanks," Xaja murmured, feeling her cheeks go warm again at Theron's gentle touch. What she wouldn't give to feel his hand in her hair again, combing his fingers through the red locks, gripping her head and pulling it back for a kiss, like what she enjoyed reading in the Tumblr smut that Kira teased her about…

Theron grinned, then dropped his hand, looking unsure as to what to do with his arm. "Yeah, don't mention it. Figured you wouldn't wanna go around with sawdust in your hair and–"

"Aww, well wasn't that a sweet gesture!" Professor Vowrawn swooped in, beaming like a proud parent. "You two make such a lovely couple!"

"I–!" Xaja stammered, looking at Theron for a second (who appeared to be wide-eyed with panic), then back at Vowrawn. "We're not–!"

"She's not–!" Theron exclaimed in the same breath. "We're just friends!"

Vowrawn didn't seem convinced. "Oh? A pity. I shall still expect you both to audition for the leading man and lady for our next production – the chemistry you two have is what every production strives for! Now, you'll need to practice before that audition, make sure you're set in your–"

"Professor!" Theron squawked. "I'm not an actor! Xaja and I are just friends!"

Vowrawn grinned. "Nonsense, Mister Shan! You two are very good friends, I take it? Very… close to each other–?"

"Not like that!" Xaja yelped, wishing she could melt into the stage floor – or glare holes into the professor's head. She could feel the rest of the strike crew staring at her and Theron. "We're just… that would be weird!" But a good weird, she silently thought to herself.

"What she said!" Theron emphatically agreed. "Why mess up a perfectly good friendship like that?"

Tsking, Vowrawn shook his head. "Well, if you two are certain, then your next task is to clean out the green room. Chop chop!" He briskly clapped his hands, dismissing the two victims of his torment – Xaja willingly took the chance to escape with Theron. And if it meant time spent with him, without anyone teasing her about her crush on him, so much the better.

Neither she nor Theron saw Vowrawn sashay over to Arcann and tap his shoulder. "I have a bit of an extra task for you, Mister Tirall."

"Yes, Professor?" Arcann asked, looking over at the Pureblood professor curiously.

"An extra ten percent added to your overall grade for my class this semester if you can set those two idiots up somehow."

Arcann grinned. Academic credit for fulfilling what he (and the rest of the dorm) considered to be a necessity? "Done."

#thanks for the ask!#swtor #theron/xaja #xaja #theron #college!au #modern!au #otp: until the stars burn out #mutually pining idiots #and naturally Vowrawn has to interfere #arcann tirall #darth vowrawn #why yes i know some theatre people who WOULD assign extra credit to wingmaning classmates

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mightyflamethrower · 9 months ago

Text

President Joe Biden, 81, has been struggling behind closed doors during official meetings, according to an in-depth report published Tuesday that described a president in serious cognitive decline.

The Wall Street Journal spoke to more than 45 people — Republicans and Democrats — over several months about these meetings, including to some who said Biden mumbled and spoke so softly people struggled to hear him, closed his eyes for so long people wondered if he had “tuned out,” and had to read from notes to make “obvious points.”

The octogenarian reportedly told House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) a recent policy change was “just a study,” prompting Johnson to believe Biden forgot the details of his own policy. Former House Speaker Kevin McCarthy (R-CA) told the newspaper, “I used to meet with him when he was vice president. I’d go to his house. … He’s not the same person.”

The newspaper said the White House “kept close tabs” on which Democrats they were interviewing, and some of those Democrats shared with the White House recordings or details of the interviews, and requested to speak again and emphasized Biden’s strengths.

One of those Democrats, Rep. Gregory Meeks (D-NY), told the WSJ, “They just, you know, said that I should give you a call back.”

RELATED: Just Another Tuesday — Biden Stumbles, Coughs Through Boring SpeechWhite House

During a January 17, 2024, meeting on Ukraine with nearly two dozen lawmakers, much of the conversation reportedly “didn’t include him,” and when questions came directly to him, he would turn to staffers. “You couldn’t be there and not feel uncomfortable,” said one person who attended told the paper. “I’ll just say that.”

House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY), who was there, argued that Biden was “incredibly strong, forceful and decisive.” Sen. James Risch (R-ID), who was also there, disagreed, saying, “What you see on TV is what you get.”

“These people who keep talking about what a dynamo he is behind closed doors—they need to get him out from behind closed doors, because I didn’t see it,” he said.

In the incident with Johnson, Biden reportedly pulled the speaker aside for a chat about what it would take to bring Ukraine aid to the House floor for a vote. Johnson reportedly brought up a new Biden administration policy that halted future permits for shipping LNG to countries while the issue was being studied. Biden told Johnson that it was not true that future permits were being halted, and said it was only a study.

While the White House called the account “false” and said the halt does not affect current exports, no new Energy Department permits for LNG exports have been issued since the policy was announced.

Biden also performed poorly during a May 2023 meeting with Republicans over increasing the debt limit, according to some Republicans there.

RELATED: OOPS! Biden Baffled, Calls Volodymyr Zelensky “Vladimir” at G7 MeetingWhite House

“He would ramble,” McCarthy said. “He always had cards. He couldn’t negotiate another way.” McCarthy said Biden did call him one day from Air Force One, and that he was “more with it than any other time.” However, the next day, during a meeting, Biden lacked that same vigor. “He was going back to all the old stuff that had been done for a long time,” McCarthy told the paper. “And he was shocked when I’d say: ‘No, Mr. President. We talked about that meetings ago. We are done with that.’”

During that meeting, Biden reportedly told the same story more than once about his experiences with the DuPont company during his time as a Delaware senator. White House aides pushed back against the characterizations, calling him a “savvy and effective leader,” and “sharp and engaged.”

“Congressional Republicans, foreign leaders and nonpartisan national-security experts have made clear in their own words that President Biden is a savvy and effective leader who has a deep record of legislative accomplishment,” White House spokesman Andrew Bates told the WSJ. “Now, in 2024, House Republicans are making false claims as a political tactic that flatly contradict previous statements made by themselves and their colleagues.”

RELATED: GET IT TOGETHER, JOE! Biden Appears Confused During Veterans Day CeremonyC-SPAN

Still, not much will likely change public perspectives of Biden. In a March WSJ survey of voters in seven battlegrounds states, only 28 percent said Biden was better suited physically and mentally for the presidency, while 48 percent said Trump. And the WSJ noted, there have been few opportunities to see Biden in unscripted moments.

According to the paper, by the end of April, he had given fewer interviews and press conferences than any of his recent predecessors. His last wide-ranging town-hall-style meeting with an independent news outlet was in October 2021 — more than two years ago, the paper noted. Biden is expected to debate former Trump later this month, on June 27.

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ecargmura · 1 year ago

Text

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End Episode 1 Review - Mortality Is Ephemeral

I’ve never read the manga for Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End, but I’ve heard people say so many good things about it that I couldn’t help but to be curious about the anime. The first episode was absolutely stunning and seriously something I’ve wanted to see in a fantasy story. I’m a huge fan of the fantasy genre and I’m always on the lookout for ones that break the mold of the usual; Frieren does just that.

Why am I raving this so much? Well, if you read a fantasy book or played RPGs, the adventure always comes to an end after the final boss, but what comes after that? What comes after is always shown in a short epilogue and everyone lives happily ever after. However, Frieren goes beyond that. The story expands upon a conclusion of a fantasy story and has the main character go on a new one. It gives the message of when one door closes, there will always be another that opens—a quote alluding to opportunities.

I also love the core message the first episode brought: mortality is ephemeral. Someday, life will wither away when you least expect it. In Frieren’s case, she is an elf, so her concept of time and mortality is trivial to her since she was blessed with a long lifespan. Her human companions aren’t elves—there are two humans and one dwarf—so they aren’t blessed with Frieren’s gifts. After departing on her new path and promising to meet up again after 50 years, Frieren sees just how much five decades means to her and her former companions. To her, 50 years is just a blink of an eye. For Himmel and Heiter, it’s just days away from the end; for Eisen, it means withering away until the end. I did shed some tears when Frieren did after realizing how she could’ve spent the past 50 years getting to learn more about Himmel.

Despite the show starting in media res, the beauty of each character is seeing how each of them were like when they were younger and how they behave as elderly people. I love that time actually flows in this world and that characters here do get older and not look the same every time they appear.

Frieren is a very indifferent person, which is justified because she’s an elf that lived for over a millennium. Time and mortality to her is trivial. After defeating the Demon King, she goes on a new journey of studying and collecting spells. Initially, the journey was just for herself, but after seeing how Himmel died, she makes it her goal to be able to understand humans so that she can connect with what she has lost after 50 years of inactivity. What I like about Frieren is that while she feels like a developed character with her powerful spells and mature demeanor that comes with experience, she still has more room to develop. I like that; it shows that character development doesn’t stop after reaching a certain point; it will still continue onwards. It makes her feel human in a way.

Himmel, from what is shown about him, is the quintessential hero with a bit of a narcissistic streak. Even as an elderly man, he’s still praising about his looks and such. While Himmel never lost the kind and gentle personality he had in his youth, the effects of time took the worst toll on him. What I like about Himmel is that while he’s seen as a great hero, there’s still so many mysteries about him. What did he do throughout the fifty years before meeting Frieren again? Did he get married? Did he take on disciples? The fact that fifty years has passed by and he lived a quiet life also showed that the hero fame is just as ephemeral as mortality. People might sing praises of the heroes, but as time goes on, the hero goes as forgotten as the time that passes. Will his legacy live on? Who knows.

Heiter is the next on the path to the end. During the time he separated from Frieren after Himmel’s funeral, he took in a war orphan named Fern and became sort of a father figure for her. While we don’t know what happened throughout the fifty years, we see that he’s making the most of the remaining time he had left by being Fern’s new family and abstaining from drinking. He even requests Frieren to take her in after his death, to which she refuses. He then requests her to teach Fern magic, to which our MC accepts. Heiter is a priest, but he’s so bad at his job for he drowns himself in alcohol and does rather sketchy things despite being a holy man. I do like his message of enjoying what’s left of his remaining time.

Eisen is rather quiet, so he’s probably a bigger mystery than Himmel. He’s a dwarf, so he’s still able to live longer than humans, but not as much, apparently. While Eisen is able to fight after 50 years, he has withered away to the point that he’s unable to carry an axe. Since he hasn’t shown up after Himmel’s funeral, maybe he’ll show up in a future episode? I’d like to learn more about him, honestly. He’s probably the party member with the least amount of information about himself other than him being a dwarf.

The animation is beautiful, as expected of Mad House. I really love the color choices they use for each scene. The tree looks stunning. The sky looks great. The characters move flawlessly. I especially love the montages of Frieren going on her solo journey and how the meteor showers looked—absolute stunners. If I were to have one gripe about the animation, it’d be that the sky looks the same in scenes that take place on sunny days. It felt as if they kept reusing the same sky as some scenes had the same blue to white gradient. I’d like to see some clouds and not the same blue sky over and over again.

The music is good. I loved some of the BGM they used for several scenes. The opening and ending songs are alright, but I might need to listen to them more often for me to get used to it.

The voice acting is superb. Atsumi Tanezaki is seriously the perfect choice for Frieren. Tanezaki knows how to voice emotionless characters but still giving them emotions when necessary. Nobuhiko Okamoto surprised me; while I am familiar with how he voices gentle characters, the fact that he voiced Himmel as an old man and using a different voice caught me off guard. It still does sound like him, but the fact that he put in the effort to make him sound elderly just wowed me. Hiroki Tochi voices Heiter and he does a good job with the silly and serious sides of this character. Yoji Ueda isn’t a voice actor I’m too familiar with but I do like the voice he uses for Eisen. Because of Eisen’s lack of screen time, I need to see more of him in order to give a proper evaluation.

Overall, this fantasy show is not like the other fantasies you’re familiar with. I totally recommend that you check it out as you get the best of both worlds in quality storytelling and quality animation. Go check out the first episode if you haven’t already. What are your thoughts on the first episode?

#frieren beyond journey's end #sousou no frieren #frieren #himmel #heiter #eisen #fern #review #anime #anime review #fall 2023 anime #ecargmura #arum journal

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jonquilyst · 1 year ago

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My Perception of Pet Mortality

Not sims related, but I felt compelled to share.

Today my brother and I discussed pet mortality today, so I wanted to share the advice I shared with him about pet mortality in case if you have a pet (and especially if you've lost a pet in the past)

This is Shaggy, my beloved childhood cat. He died in 2020 at the age of 11 from kidney failure. To quickly describe the cat he was, he was an intelligent, though grumpy indoor-outdoor boi who patrolled the neighborhood block and was an affluent hunter. He frequently brought home live birds and bunnies to our deck to give us a lovely execution show before he would devour his treat.

He was such a good hunter that the bunny population in our neighborhood bottlenecked and did not return until last year (3 years after his passing).

10 months after Shaggy died, we rescued a kitten named Oskar, who has been with us ever since.

Now, introducing my very own cat, Lacey. She's a kitten in this picture but she will be 5 years old next month. My brother asked me today if when Lacey eventually dies, I would adopt another cat.

My answer was yes.

He asked me if I would adopt the cat so I could replace Lacey.

I said no.

He then asked me why I would adopt another cat if I wasn't intending on replacing her, especially since we had adopted Oskar after Shaggy died.

This is what I told him (though fumbling on my words trying to get my point across):

Pet mortality is a very sad thing, yes. It is the worst to lose a pet, but I think there's a very good reason why pets only serve a fraction of our lifetimes and this is why:

When we lose a pet, our animal-loving hearts tend to open up to loving new animals. Of course, it'll take some time to grieve the loss of the departed pet, but more often than not, we adopt a new animal.

Why do we do this? Is it because we're "replacing" the lost pet?

Most often times, no. The reason why is because the animal being adopted is an entirely new being, with a different personality and quirks and habits that's totally different from the lost pet.

Pets only live for so long so us humans can love as many animals as possible. Again, it's sad, yes, but I stand by the quote: "they may not have lasted all of your life, but you lasted all of theirs." There's something so beautiful about being there for an animal for the duration of its life, even if you adopted the animal later in its life, and especially when it comes to touching the lives of many animals over the course of your own human life.

Point being, when you adopt a pet after the loss of a previous one, you are not replacing them. Rather, you are opening your heart to a new being who will enrich your life in a brand new way. You will never have an animal that's exactly like the one you lost again, so it's very much worth remembering them.

I told my brother that even though it's been 4 years since Shaggy died, we still talk about him, reminisce about him, laugh about him, remember him. His urn containing his ashes and a cast of his pawprint still remain on our fireplace mantle. I told him that the fact that we still continue to remember him, that Shaggy impacted us in this way, is proof that we never replaced him.

Our new cat Oskar is simply a new addition to our family.

So, when my Lacey eventually passes (hopefully not for a long long time, but Ik it will happen), I will adopt a new cat, because I want to keep loving cats for as long as I live. Humans impact cats and cats impact humans in such a beautiful and powerful way that I want to continue extending my impact to new felines who will live alongside me, and so that they can impact me in the same way, even if they might not last the entirety of my life.

Pets are family forever.

#txt #nonsims #hope this helps someone... i managed to change my brother's perspective about pet mortality which I feel happy about

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dasher85 · 1 year ago

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Gift

featuring our Inexpressible duo

Kamisato Ayato x reader | y/n | you

A short story

just leisure things

[ perhaps it was me who's receiving a gift ]

--------------------

The Commissioner was working on his official paperwork as usual. His hands effortlessly moved through the once blank paper. A brief glance on the reference and notes before he jots down another sentence. It's nothing special, just his regular daily job routine.

Time flies soon after and it’s already afternoon, which means lunch time. Which also means seeing you, and he's genuinely eager to do just that. His lips curved into a gentle arc before he meticulously kept his table neat, leaving for wherever you were at that time.

He didn't know, because instead of actually being at the estate you usually never were at the estate especially when it's lunch time. For example, you would be at your own residence, near the cliff by the seashore or even the mountain side, out in the nature where you find inspiration and peace for your writings.

But to his surprise, you were just comfortably seated in the dining area. A few plates of food were already served to you, chopsticks in your hand and a small smile on your gentle face. What a beautiful sight he thought.

"Afternoon, milady" he enthusiastically greeted you.

"Now, what do we have here?" He slowly approached the table and sat opposite you, wearing the same smile.

"No, take your own chopsticks" you eyed the chopsticks that were already neatly placed in front of him.

"Come on now…" His eyes observing your every little move.

"Get your own plate, how come they never served you first?" You whispered to him in a slight annoyed voice. Just the normal banter between the two of you.

The servants at the estate were all but under his command and that's exactly why nobody was serving him a plate for lunch until he asked them to get him a serving. He never told you that he deliberately paused all his food servings just because he'll be asking you to cook for him instead.

"I want that" he casually demands, pointing his index finger to a sashimi that was exclusively plated for your today's lunch.

You sighed, but eventually picked it up using your chopsticks and carefully brought the sashimi to his already opened mouth. If he didn't ask you to cook for him, he'll eat the food that was yours.

"Did you add lime along with the soy sauce? I didn't think you'd prefer it sour like the locals"

"I think it's alright but I was just testing it out". You casually explained.

He rarely gets quality time with you on most days. So whenever he gets the chance, he'll do a lot of so-called fun moments that'll put you in an unexpected situation. You might pinch his cheeks sometimes out of annoyance but getting a reaction from your usually expressionless face actually brings him joy.

Ayato's smiling eyes never left you as he chewed the food. All this while he's been thinking what else can he give you as a gift? He has given you a few necklaces but the only one you often wore was the golden pin with the Kamisato crest emblem. The first and rushed gift he has given to you as a token before you departed from Inazuma. You once mentioned returning it to him but he insisted that it's just nice to see you wear it as a pendant.

Bracelet, rings and earrings? Well you do wear it on formal occasions but most of the time like right now, you didn't. So he technically put jewellery on hold until now unless you want to buy a new one which is unlikely.

Easy, books would do… but now that he actually thinks about it, you buy new books way faster than he could even catch up with the recent release. There's no way he could've known which book you have bought and haven't?

"Sweetheart, what do you want me to buy for a gift?" All in all, he still thought asking you personally would be a better option rather than guessing.

"Gift? For who and what occasion?" You replied after chewing the food.

“For you of course”

“Hmm… nothing came to mind” You nonchalantly took a piece of meat into your bowl of rice.

"Really? But I haven't bought you anything since three months ago"

One of the major problems being with you was he wasn't able to be the man who would lavish you with luxurious gifts just because you could buy it yourself. One time he surprised you with a set of trending bracelet designs, only to know afterwards that you've already bought the same set using your own mora. You don't spend much but if you do see something that caught your eyes, you'll just buy it.

The fact that you have too much mora at your disposal to the point of not requiring his assistance in that matter. He sometimes secretly wished you didn't.

"Well… Impress me."

You nonchalantly responded but to him, those words were the flairs that ignited the fire in his competitive self. Fortunately he wasn't competing against anyone else otherwise he wouldn't be able to focus on his paperworks afterwards.

[ A week later ]

"Ayato, here's my next month's schedule" you casually handed him a few pieces of handwritten papers.

He only intended to briefly read through the dates and information but upon seeing the first date, it was rather surprising for him as he paused for a moment at that particular event. Eventually, he ended up carefully reading all of the pages because of it.

"Sweetheart… Why didn't you inform me at least a month earlier?" He finally pulled the papers away from his face to look up towards you.

"I am a month early." you jokingly added.

"Next month is tomorrow… I have not made any preparations". He complained.

"Don't worry… I'll be accompanying them at my place". You softly replied.

He frowned for a moment while looking at you as if in deep thoughts about the matter.

"If the meeting ends early tomorrow, I'll return as soon as possible. Also, the servants are all yours, instruct them to make arrangements for the guest rooms today."

"Sure, but I'll ask my mom where she'll be interested in staying."

"Of course… and also remember to send my regards to your family tomorrow. I doubt the meeting will end that early."

You smiled, "Aren't you used to these kinds of social things?"

"Yes… but my in-laws are unpredictable." He admitted with a helpless smile.

"How so?" You smiled knowingly.

He started counting with his fingers with an overly exaggerated worried frown.

"Oh… to be your husband, I've been constantly reminded about your well-being and being threatened ever so casually. The grand total of 'can't and don't s' are uncountable."

"I already told you nobles are demanding." You laughed while lightly tapping his forehead with your index finger.

"Fortunately, you are satisfied with me".

He casually took hold of your hand while laughing at his own remarks.

"But no matter, I know I've taken good care of you. Am I right?" He added as he flashed a confident grin.

"When are you going to continue with your work? You've been idling about lying on my lap all day". Ever so casually you started striking his confidence away.

Ayato hasn't informed you that he has done all of today's work earlier just so he has all the time to spend with you without worrying about it. But that's just what he wants, you trying to deflate his ego but he'll end up winning. He already knew that would be coming from you.

"I've done it all". His grin widened as if you'd boosted his confidence instead.

"Fine… I'll give you a 'Well done' then"

He laughed, "but you're still not answering my question"

"Why do you like to ask me obvious questions? Hmm?" You gently run your fingers through his fluffy hair with a small smile.

"Look at you… you seem so unhappy. How am I supposed to know-"

Even Ayato was not prepared for your sudden act when your lips sealed him quiet. However it took him just seconds to recover from the so-called surprise.

"You talk too much." You swiftly pulled away.

He was about to say a word but quickly quieted down upon hearing your threatening words that comes after.

"Or I'll complain about your behaviour to my superior tomorrow. Wouldn't that be fun?".

He shook his head profusely and you nodded with a small smile.

Ayato eventually let out a chuckle but didn't say a word afterwards as if your threat holds a great pressure on him even though he also knew you're only playing with him. It's purely a joke and yet he didn't dare to step into that realm of cold winter ice. After all, the so-called superior you've casually mentioned is none other than your mother who'll be visiting Inazuma tomorrow.

"Do you wanna know what's her first impression of you?" You suddenly asked.

You never mentioned anything about it even after being with him for more than a year but now that they're visiting you, the thought just suddenly came into your mind.

He smiled seemingly interested before nodding his head.

"She's often busy on most days but that one time she knew I received a letter from Inazuma, she suddenly became eager to know about the letter."

"The first letter I sent you through Yae publishing?"

You nodded and he suddenly sat up straight in complete surprise.

"It's too late, she already knew what you wrote." You spoke in a joking manner after seeing his surprised reaction.

"She'll know if I try to hide it, so I just let her read the letter. The first thing she asked was your name, age and height. It was quite amusing". You smiled at the thought of it.

"This feels rather confounding…" he adds with a helpless smile.

"She told me, you're quite ideal but unsuitable for me. Says, you won't understand the language and the culture. She labelled you as an unimpressive suitor." You paused to read his calm gaze.

"At that time, I just thought I probably need to teach you the basics… it wouldn't be that bad because hell, I didn't wanna end up marrying the Prince's son."

"What? You never told me about that either?!" That new information surprised him even more than he already was.

"Yes, I just felt like talking about it now. But it's true."

He silently looked at you, seemingly thinking before he finally spoke out his thoughts to you. "Oh… it's not a good question but curiosity has given me confidence to just ask you about why did you refused the arrangements back then?"

"It's simple, I just thought I won't be able to visit my family often because I'll be cooped up inside the castle. That's too boring. But they haven't arranged it yet actually, it was just a mere suggestion by then. So, I didn't worry about it too much."

He smiled knowingly, "Or did you already love someone back then?"

"Was it love? I'm not sure…". You avert your gaze as you seem to ponder, "...but whenever I think about that someone, I feel oddly happy." You calmly spoke while meeting his gaze once more with a knowing smile.

He let out an amused chuckle before returning to his previous position and comfortably rested his head on your lap but instead of facing the tea table he was now facing your body.

"Love depicts a lot of emotions" he briefly turned his head to gaze up at you.

"For example, the pain of longing. Even now, I've been missing you whenever you're away. It felt sickeningly horrible." He casually hinted those previous years when you were back at your homeland.

"If anger counts, then that day… Was I just missing you when you completely forgot about me?". You met his gaze before answering your own question, " Make sense.". As you mentioned that one time he couldn't remember anything about you.

"Worried, anxious, fear, guilt are all included." He adds.

You nodded, "Yes, it seems even back then my heart was already taken hostage."

"Wait… wait- I was not guilty in that matter". You let out a chuckle as he responded playfully.

You rolled your eyes but you didn't seem interested in indulging him with the banter.

"Oh come on… You should've said I kept your heart with my fragile hands with utmost care". He added.

"No, I prefer the hostage bit." You argued back.

"...but that's harsh". He grumbled.

"As a writer, I think it sounds thrilling"

He sighed as he eventually let you have the final statement.

"Now I wonder, how did you think of fulfilling the exact criteria even before I informed you about it? Or was it all your own meticulous planning?" You suddenly thought because impressively he has learned your homeland's language and basic culture even before visiting you.

"Impressive right?" He whispered before snuggling closer into the fabrics of your clothes.

You only smiled in response, knowing well he wasn't going to explain much into that.

[ Two days later ]

The wooden katana stabs to the ground as the owner loses hold of it due to the strong force received from the other user.

"I know you're holding back. But I wonder… would it make any difference if the outcome of the match involves my dear daughter?"

"Yes, most definitely" He unhesitatingly replied with a calm smile.

"Mom, best him over!". You cheered from the sidelines as if he wasn't listening. Meanwhile, your brother helplessly shook his head while holding a cup of tea.

"You had to give him a boost of confidence." Your brother adds just for you to listen.

"No need, one match is enough. He already did great." She replied to you with an approving nod.

Ayato smiled, he didn't think such words would get to him that much. It felt surreal that his in-laws would actually praise him.

Your mother suddenly tossed the wooden katana from which Ayato caught it with ease.

"Ma'am, if I may, can I have a match with your dear daughter?" He asked as if he's asking permission to court you.

"Noo…" You had already refused even before he got any confirmation from your mother.

"Well, why not." But surprisingly, your mother agreed to his request without much thought.

You sighed but eventually stood up from the porch and walked to where your mother previously stood.

Ayato pulled the wooden katana from the ground and handed the other one to you while displaying a joyous smile.

"Mom… why'd you agreed to this? Just look at his face" you casually complained to the person who was now accompanying your brother with a cup of tea in hand.

"Please forgive me, Ma'am but it's my first time to have a match with her. It feels thrilling". He calmly admitted with the same smile.

"It's been many moons ago since I've seen her breath eagerness towards victory".

"Mom, that's exaggerating. I'm not."

Ayato looked at you with a soft smile while the other two who were watching by the porch laughed at your remarks.

"Fine, shall we begin?" You finally turned to face your today's opponent after not practising swordsmanship for a few years.

His left hand that was placed elegantly behind his back has now returned to hold the hilt of the wooden katana. Ayato nodded his head with a calm smile as he stood in a stance seemingly eager to win as you were.

You sighed to ease away your mind after feeling a little overwhelmed just looking at his seemingly calm self.

“Ma’am would it be alright to trouble you in being our today’s judge?” Ayato casually requested but he’s actually giving you a brief chance to prepare yourself.

“Gladly”. She stood closer to where she could see the both of you.

Ayato returned his calm gaze towards you once more, seemingly checking if you’re truly ready for the match.

“Ready when you are.”

You swiftly stood in a stance that was completely different from his posture. A different technique that you seem to adapt whenever you’re in a sword match.

“I’m ready”. You informed and he nodded.

In that instant you seem to hear nothing, not the calm breeze, not the chirping birds or the rustling of leaves but only your own breath. It’s been a while since you’re in such a focus state of mind but it seems you’re truly aiming to do your best.

The second you lift your right foot from the ground to start the strike, Ayato’s sword has already hovered an inch over your neck. Just like that, he was already winning the match.

Your eyes widened in shock as you froze in place. He met your gaze while displaying that same calm smile. It took you three seconds to recover from that situation before you pushed his shoulder using the hilt of your wooden sword.

He would’ve dodged it before you strike but in that short moment his curiosity got the better of him. He wants to know how much strength you could do? Would he stumble backwards or would he feel the pain for a week? Ayato was that insane to know these kinds of things but he knew there wouldn’t be any other chance to find the answer even if he asked you besides this very moment.

You turned around to face him once more after swiftly escaping from his wooden sword. He rapidly moves forward to do another strike but you manage to block his wooden katana. If it was actually blades, the edges would grit against each other and form sparks of fire.

His strength wielding the wooden katana was so strong that your eyebrows are furrowing to withstand it. Sweat started to form on the sides of your head as you tried to push his wooden katana. His arm didn't budge one bit.

Eventually, Ayato steadily decreases the force against your wooden sword just enough to balance it with your strength. He knew your stamina is slowly reduced just by seeing you taking in deep breaths however the flare in your eyes hasn’t changed since the beginning of the duel.

“Under such circumstances, I shall declare it as a draw. Is that considerable?” Your mother seems to deliberately suggest a halt to the duel. She seems to know something about you better than your today’s opponent.

“Of course”. He quickly agreed with a nod as he swiftly took a step back.

You looked at your mother questioningly but eventually agreed with her without voicing out your thoughts.

Ayato casually walked over towards you as he helped you to hold the wooden sword as if it was troubling you. He then handed both the wooden swords to the nearby servants on duty.

You walked over towards your mother as she displayed an approving smile, “Agility is your weakness”.

“...but mom, he’s so strong”. You whispered a complaint to her as if Ayato wasn't already standing right next to you with that same calm smile.

“Strength is consistency” Same as you, she too spoke without secrecy from the said person himself.

“Right…” You eventually agreed after you remember that Ayato does sword practises everyday without skipping.

“Remember don’t strain yourself”. She whispered a reminder as you nodded agreeingly.

"Ah… I shall resume indulging those pleasant green tea" She swiftly walked back to the porch, leaving the both of you standing there just so casually.

You sighed as you exchanged gaze with the person beside you. His smile softened as he casually placed an arm over your shoulder.

"Sweetheart, you should've joined me for sword practice sometimes. I haven't even got the chance to see all the techniques you use."

"I'm just a writer. I use my fingers to write. Besides, you have a lot of people to choose from for practice and you can even hire someone from my homeland if you want to know other sword techniques. Actually I can just ask my brother to show you the basics. He probably wants you to teach him your ways as well if you seek for the advanced level" You replied with a lengthy explanation of ideas and solutions to him.

He helplessly smiled, "Such brilliant idea, my sweetheart. However, none of it would let me spend more time with you".

A slight frown appeared on your face, before it slowly reduced into a soft smile as you finally realised what he actually meant. "Oh?"

He nodded, "Yes."

Despite that, you shook your head, "No."

He gently pulled your shoulder until your head was closer to lock his gaze with you, slightly trying to persuade you to agree.

Unfazed, you still shook your head to disagree with his suggestion. He sighed with a slight chuckle as he slightly nodded.

"Alright. I guess I'll have to practise all alone then". It seems he's not giving up about that matter yet.

"Fine, but not within these few months." You casually informed him.

"Why? Is something-" His eyes widened seemingly assuming a reason behind your words.

"Are you returning to your homeland… for a few months?" He whispered.

You shook your head with a helpless smile, "but I would love that idea, would you let m-"

"Oh… sweetheart" Your words seem to have saddened his spirit as he spoke humorlessly cutting through your words. "I can't even stop you even if I wanted you to stay but I-"

"Stop being dramatic, shhh". You quickly tried to stop him from rambling even more. Somehow you can already feel the embarrassment creeping up your cheeks when you hear your brother start stifling a laughter from over the porch.

Ayato on the other hand was unbothered and he's slightly enjoying seeing such genuine reaction coming from you. He finds it quite cute.

You quickly pulled him to walk a bit further away from the porch area, "I'm not leaving"

"So what did you mean by a few months?" He was quick to get the answer he actually wants.

[ The next day ]

"I beg your pardon" He subconsciously blurted out with sudden formality.

"I don't feel like going out today" You repeated as you pulled up the smooth fabric of the blanket to cover your face away from his view.

"Sweetheart, what is the matter? Is it because you wished to return to your homeland alongside your family yesterday? If so, you should've told me." He gently brushed his fingers along your silky smooth hair.

"It's just cold" You mumbled.

He let out a soft chuckle, "I'm afraid, you love the coldness better than me, sweetheart"

"Fine, I'm just sleepy". You huffed underneath the blanket.

"Come on now, what's the matter?" He insists on questioning you while gently pulling the blanket off your face.

"It's still early". You grumbled.

He gently placed his palm on your forehead to check your temperature but then nodded once he confirmed your body temperature was normal.

"Sweetheart, it's past afternoon. Have you not eaten anything yet?". He asked again, feeling a little concerned.

You stayed quiet afterwards which then confirmed his assumption. He sighed, "Come, accompany me to eat lunch. I'm famished"

Ayato has just returned from a meeting and he initially thought you were busy writing somewhere outside the estate which caused him to worry about your whereabouts because he couldn’t find you. Turns out you were still in bed ever since he left for work which was unexpected.

You didn’t move as you stayed still in bed, refusing to comply with him. He didn’t want to force you either, so he casually rested his head on top of your stomach.

“I’m not your pillow, go somewhere else”. You swiftly rolled over to the side, heartlessly causing half of his body to fall on the futon. Luckily the futon was thick enough to save him from the hard floor.

“My heart hurts”. He whined, feeling a little sad for your harsh rejection.

You sighed, “I’m sorry”. Truth was you didn’t want to treat him that badly either. You knew he was just trying to persuade you to come with him.

He sat up once more as he looked down at you with a smile on his lips seemingly unbothered. He reached out a hand to gently caress your cheeks, “Tell me, what are you upset about?”

You suddenly sat up, and moved over towards him as you comfortably rested your head on his lap. Usually it was always him who would do this to you.

“Goodness me. Now I’m not so sure if this is entirely about me that you’re unsatisfied about”. He let out a chuckle but was equally curious about your thoughts.

“I’m so angry at you right now”. You casually informed him.

“You are?”. He questions with a smile as his eyes meet yours with much adoration. Ayato was sure you weren't.

“Ayato…”. You suddenly called his name with your eyes now closed.

“Hmm?” He hummed looking down at you, the smile on his lips slowly disappearing. He felt that you were much more serious now that you’ve called him like that.

"My mother says I shouldn't eat a lot of things and says I should reorganise my whole eating diet. She even gave me her own notes".

"Why is that?"

You grabbed one of his hands and slightly squeezed it in both of your hands. "I feel so restricted but I know I need to comply". You continue to speak out your frustrations to him.

"Surely, it wouldn't be any different? Your usual diet at the estate is considerably well prepared." Now he feels a little curious about the matter but he wants to wait for you to explain it more to him.

"I'm a little worried but…" You suddenly opened your eyes to meet his calm gaze, "No matter, I still have your full support".

"Oh dear… it seems you're leaving out an important fact from me." He calmly states out a point but he eventually smiles despite feeling an eagerness to know behind such regulations placed over you.

Ayato gently pulled your body towards him as he then carried you before placing your head on the pillow. He then positioned half of his body hovering over you as his left arm supported his weight, with a certain closeness that'll make you question his intentions. He then placed his right hand on the pillow, just next to your head.

"Still my wife must eat lunch with me. That's not negotiable". He softly spoke with his left cheeks slightly squished against the left side of your cheek. He was intentionally wanting to grasp all your attention.

You cupped his face with both hands to slowly pull him away, "I'll squish your cheeks.". You tried to sound a little stern but you eventually laughed as you see him smiling gleefully at your touch, "I can't believe I'm arguing with you like this"

He suddenly grabbed both your hands with his own as he gave your fingertips a quick kiss. "Then would you want me to-"

"No."

"What?! I haven't-"

"No."

"Not negotiable?"

You eventually nodded with an amused chuckle.

"But I'm willingly risking my official attire knowing that it'll get wrinkles… I still have another meeting in...". He started counting with his fingers before continuing his sentence, "...the next two hours." he argued as if getting wrinkles on his outfit was life threatening.

"Fine. I'll accept your first offer".

"How disappointing... but lunch is indeed a priority. Come now"

He smiled, seemingly satisfied before casually pulling you to stand up along with him.

"Now, should I help you defy our superior's meal suggestions or you could tell me the specifics about such an important matter?"

-------------------

A/N: idea flows like water whenever I write about Ayato.

#genshin impact #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato kamisato #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin impact ayato

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hphmmatthewluther · 2 years ago

Text

Back By Midnight: Operation BULLSEYE - Part 1/4:

Taglist of peeps who might be interested (lemme know if you want to be added or removed!): @akaisenhatake @camillejeaneshphm @catohphm @fangirl-screaming @rosachaotic @ag907 @nikyiscreepy @oseathepebble

(contains graphic descriptions of injuries)

The feeling of the floor being pulled from under you is never a good one. The drop in your stomach, the sudden heightening of all your senses trying to get your bearings, the sharp gasp of air that your lungs are forced into. It’s bad enough when the feeling is figurative. Matthew Luther, however, was in the process of finding out the phrase didn’t do the feeling justice. A few moments before, he was aware that some sort of device on the floor below had activated, and the blast had shaken the foundations of the building enough to cause shaking. The next thing he thought, right before the floor gave way, was that this was just his luck.

Looking back on it, he might have noticed warning signs from the very start. As a tech worker at MI6, he was always on the periphery of most missions, his management team almost sensing his fear whenever field work was brought up. They never said anything, of course, thanks to the words “Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD)” highlighted on his personal file. A nervous wreck in the middle of the government intelligence department. Matthew had often wondered whether he was too much of a detriment to the place.

But then came a new assignment: investigation of an unusually high casualty rate of personnel. He and the others in his team went through the same process of looking through information they always did, but as he was doing so Matthew did something rare for him: he went the extra mile. Finally, after comparing the connections the organisations had, as well as the times between enquiries and deaths, he had discovered a link: every operative only died after visiting buildings in a certain sector of London in-person. His part in this could have ended there.

Then his stomach dropped. Matthew did not believe himself to have much upper body strength, so it came as some surprise to him that as his legs began to kick on nothing, his senses, in overdrive, forced his arms forward until his hands grabbed onto the cracked edges of one of the building’s inner support pillars. His long legs kicked again before curling round the pillar, leaving Matthew clutching it like a koala on a eucalyptus tree. At this point came the sharp gasp of air, followed by rapid panting as his brain caught up to what his body had just done. He tightened his grip as the next thought popped into his head. Bill had been on the floor below.

A few days passed, Matthew being told to send his findings over to an operative in another department. He was in the middle of relaxing after having spent ages stressing about emailing the other agent, when there came a knock at the door.

“C-Come in!” Matthew said, sweat already beginning to form on his brow. The door opened slowly, and in stepped someone who gave Matt an immense sense of deja vu.

He was one or two inches taller than Matt (a rarity seeing as Matthew was already pretty tall), and was wearing a white shirt and red tie. His most striking feature, however, was the long ginger hair that flowed up to his shoulders. Matthew could have sworn it was too long for an MI6 operative (and he should have known seeing as his hair length was only just allowed: past his neck but not touching the shoulders.) Matt’s stomach began to curl in on itself. The hair and the smile. He couldn’t think about how familiar it looked as the multiple screens behind him went dim due to inactivity.

“Hi there!” the man said, grinning “I’m Bill. Bill Moon.”

Matthew instantly recognised the man as the agent he had sent his findings too. “H-Hi, um, sorry…”

Bill looked at him quizzically. “Why are you apologising?”

“I…assumed you were here because I did something wrong in the email. I’m so sorry, I promise I went over it all as much as I could-”

“Hey, it’s ok.” Bill stepped forward. “You’re Matthew, right? Matthew Luther?” Matthew nodded wordlessly, now more confused than nervous. Bill simply kept smiling. “Nobody else in the department had made the connection you did. Nobody even considered it.”

“R-Really?” Matthew asked incredulously. “But it seemed so simple, they all had to physically be there before the various incidents of their deaths occurred.”

“Yes, but most people here don’t think so laterally anymore. They all assumed that the deaths were cybersecurity related, nobody even considered the possibility of it being because someone in that area saw and identified the agents.”

“I…see.” Matthew said, shrugging, too polite to ask why Bill hadn’t simply put all this in an email and why he had come all the way out here.

“The fact is, this needs investigating. Proper, physical investigation. And I’d like you to help out with that. What do you say?”

What was Bill thinking? He’d probably read his file, right? He knew what Matthew was like, didn’t he? And yet, against all odds, against the screaming panicked voices in his head.

“Ok…yeah, I’ll help any way I can. Sorry again.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Never apologise for accepting help and never apologise for asking for it.”

Matthew slowly made his way down the pillar and through a thick cloud of dark brown smoke to the lower floor. The monitors that had been set up were all broken, with some fallen onto the floor. Pulling his t-shirt up slightly over his nose and mouth, he tentatively stuck his legs out until they touched the floor again in what felt like the first time in hours. He almost cried out for Bill, but was grateful he didn’t as he caught the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside. Ducking behind the pillar, and taking a brief look up at the hole-ridden floor he had descended through, he crept forward, searching for his fellow operative amongst the scattered wires and computer parts.

“This’ll do nicely.” Bill said. It had taken a week, but MI6 had been able to secure an empty office building near the buildings the other personnel had been investigating. “Not too much of a high rise, but it still gives us a good vantage point.”

Matthew hummed in agreement as he got the monitors set up around the room, as he’d been doing for the past several hours. It was night by now, and they and a few other operatives had set up a surveillance system in both this floor and the one above, with the purpose of identifying any shady individuals who frequented the group of buildings.

“So…, sorry, um…” Matthew began, after having fiddled with the wiring a little more to make sure everything was connected, “...so this is sort of like a stakeout, then?”

Bill chuckled and moved his hands like they were a pair of scales. “Yes and no. It’s clear that whoever’s doing this enjoys setting up a trap for your - our - colleagues. I intend to spring the trap.”

Matthew’s eyes widened at this. “Isn’t that a bit…well…life-endangering?”

“To an extent, yeah, but not as much as my usual work is.” Bill shrugged. “Besides, it’ll be fun. I have tech people from my own department working on it too.”

Matt’s ears perked up at that as Bill moved past him to go upstairs. “Will they be coming here too?”

Bill’s smile dropped a little, and he shook his head. “No, they prefer to stay at their own monitoring station. Still…I think you’d get on with them. Maybe you’ll end up communicating with them during this.”

Time went by, and Matthew found himself gravitating towards the window. You could barely see anything in the night sky thanks to all the light pollution, but as Matt watched, hoping to see something, the clouds parted, and the light of the moon was allowed to shine.

Bill came back down, Matt noticing an earpiece now in his hand. “Stargazing, are you?”

“Moon-gazing, more accurately. You can’t really make any stars out.”

Bill nodded sadly. “Yeah, the City’s never been the best place to watch the stars. Though…” Matthew looked up at him, expectantly. “You like astronomy, Matthew?”

“Yeah, it’s always interesting to look up at what’s out there, all the bizarre and brilliant things that exist millions of miles away…though I don’t think they can tell the future.”

Bill laughed at that, placing his hand on Matt’s shoulder. He felt another pang of deja vu as Bill tried to get his composure back.

“Good one, yeah…well, I happen to like it too. As a matter of fact, in my spare time I’m part of an astronomy society. They’re pretty prestigious as well, if you’re in that field of work, that is. They’re called the Midnight Foundation.”

Matthew nodded, running the name around in his head. “So…you go and talk about space?”

“Mostly, but a lot of work is done mapping out and observing changes in space as well. We work with all the big space organisations too; if there’s a space project on the news chances are we had our hand in it.”

“An astronomer who’s also a spy…don’t get many of those.”

“No…you most certainly do not.”

Finally, Matt was able to make out a body on the ground in front of him, as the footsteps outside grew louder. Still squatting, he leapt over, trying not to make too much noise. He clutched his face in relief when he saw Bill’s chest rise. It looked like most of the damage had been caused by the fall to the floor, as opposed to whatever that blast was, though his arms were badly burnt. His stomach was the main problem however, due to the bruising and bleeding, though Matthew was sure any of his vital organs hadn’t been directly struck. Still, he was losing a lot of blood. And there were those footsteps to worry about too.

Matthew got to work trying to stabilise Bill’s condition using the amount of training that he had. He wished his hands would stop shaking as much as they were as he tried to stem the blood flow using a nearby first aid kit (he imagined that it had never been used whilst this building was another office block). The footsteps were just outside the door now, and he could hear whoever it was conversing too. Matt was fairly certain these people weren’t here to help, and so very slowly moved Bill away from view of the door,, and away from the collapsing roof overhead.

At some point during this process, Bill opened his eyes. He honestly hadn’t expected to be alive, and could only stare helplessly as the spot he was in when Matthew found him was crushed by debris from up above. He looked at his saviour, who placed his finger over his mouth and pointed at the open door. Voices rang out from the corridor, emotionless and cold:

“Detonation successful.” Said a voice, nonchalantly.

“Was the body destroyed in the blast?” Came a more refined, deeper voice.

“Either that or splattered across the walls behind all that smoke. Can we go now?” said another voice, a woman’s, with a slight Scottish accent. Time seemed to stand still as the three argued a moment before the third speaker sighed and poked her head in. Through the smoke, he saw short brown hair and what seemed to be pink eyes. He was sure they made eye contact for the briefest of moments; maybe his eyes blended into the ugly swamp-coloured smoke. Either way, he was afraid that they would be able to hear his rapidly beating heart.

“How was that?” Bill asked as he re-entered the building, taking off the jacket of his business suit and pulling his hair out of the ponytail he’d put it in. “I think I put in a good act as a yuppie.”

Matt nodded as he finalised the data set he’d created from Bill’s meeting with one of the executives that worked in the building. Specifically, one from Reflection International, a pharmaceutical company. He turned to Bill and smiled. “I think it went well, they didn’t seem to treat you any differently to their other appointments. Did you get time to…you know…snoop?”

“Of course!” Bill replied. “What kind of spy would I be if I didn’t snoop?.”

Matthew found himself chuckling. Not many MI6 operatives called themselves “spies”. They generally preferred terms like “personell”, “operatives” at a push maybe.

Another of their group members came in with a large device. “Here’s the extra data device we requested, we can let him set it up.” He said, pointing dismissively before leaving. Bill turned to Matthew as he started to connect the device. “Don’t pay any attention to him. As far as I’m concerned, tech people are just as important as the field workers, and just as capable out there too.”

“T-Thanks?” Matt said, a little confused, but accepting the compliment nonetheless. “I can connect this one up with the others, give me a-”

But Bill held his hand out. “...there’s something I went to the business appointment with that I don’t have with me now. Can you tell me what it is?”

Matt looked him up and down. “That earpiece. The one you use to talk to your tech people from your…department.” As he said it, the cogs in Matthew’s head began to turn. This was by far the most unorthodox assignment he’d ever had, yet Matthew had accepted it fully when he would have otherwise questioned it. Why? Well, partially because of who Bill reminded Matthew of, but also the fact that it felt like he was doing something for once. So many times in Matt’s time in MI6 had it felt like he was on the verge of coming to a solution when bureaucracy came into the room and took his work to another department. But Bill’s department, whatever it was, seemed to work very differently. Old-school, Matt would say, none of that over-emphasis on cyber-security and social engineering.

“I need you to go up and get it, if that’s alright.” Bill said, gesturing upstairs. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Matt nodded, once again too polite to say anything, and darted out of the room and up the stairs. He hadn’t actually been up here yet, but when he opened the door all he saw was a few monitors, an open window showing London at dusk, and a table with the earpiece on it, blinking to show it had charged. Matthew walked forward and picked it up, and was going to walk straight back down until he realised he could hear voices coming from it. He should have let it go. He should have respected Bill’s privacy. Yet his odd behaviour just now and the way he was so different from everyone else in MI6 led to Matthew holding it up to his ear.

“What’s taking him so long?” hissed one voice.

“Calm down, he’s always like this when charging it.” whispered another.

“If you say so…the data we got from his trip to R.I. is…fascinating, though.”

“How so?”

“That device he found, the one we think is the target…it’s not just scanning the area, it’s connected to a much wider network.”

“Of course. Good on that one tech kid for spotting the device acting up.”

Matt involuntarily gasped when he heard himself mentioned

“Hey, who was that-”

It felt like the floor had given in. Not just because he had been caught listening, but because it actually had. His stomach dropped. His senses went into overdrive. A sharp burst of air went into his lungs.

Eventually, the woman left with the others, as their arguments continued again. Matt turned back to Bill, attending to his wounds again. “Y-You’re gonna be ok, the bleeding’s slowing and your arms have cooled, but…”

“...Did you get the earpiece?” Bill asked, weakly. Matthew fished it out of his pocket and handed it to him, the two voices still talking to each other. Bill pressed a few buttons on it, and the voices grew louder. “Guys-”

“What happened?!” one of them asked, panicked.

“Someone else was listening in, and then there was a bang, and crumbling…” the other said, rambling.

“Listen…” Bill insisted. “I need you two as witnesses for this.”

The voices were quiet for a moment. “Witnesses to what?”

Bill looked at Matthew. “Mate, you saved my sorry arse when I put us both in danger. I thought I could take out whatever thing they put on that server, but I was wrong…I was very wrong…I should be dead, but you put yourself on the line. You’re better than most of MI6 put together.” Matt tried to refuse the compliment, but Bill shushed him. “This isn’t the time for self-deprecation. Remember when you said that nobody would expect an astronomer to be a spy? You were right. That’s why the Midnight Foundation was set up…I’m their agent. Agent Moon. Or at least…well…I will have been.”

Matt tried to take this all in. “The people on the earpiece…they mentioned a device.”

“Correct. Good on you for taking the initiative.” Bill chuckled, clutching his wounds. “That device is how they, whoever they are, identify spies and kill them. They’ve been operating for a while now from the Reflection International building, and, according to your data…gearing up for something big. They have to be stopped, and my mission parameters say that Agent Moon must secure the device and get it back by midnight tonight.”

“B-But you can’t go, you’re too injured, I’ve got to get you to a hospital-”

“Precisely. The parameters say Agent Moon has to. But it doesn’t say who Agent Moon has to be.”

It suddenly dawned on Matthew what Bill was talking about. “Y-You want me to-”

“I understand this is, to put it lightly, out of nowhere, but I’ve no other choice…and no better candidate. Do you, Matthew Luther, of your own free will and volition, choose to hide amongst the stars and fight under them for the good of all?”

Matthew did not make decisions very easily. He stressed over emails, what to eat, whether he was good enough, whether he was making his brother proud. But as he looked at Bill, and thought back to those assassins, cold and cruel, the decision came easily. “Yes. I’ll do it.”

Bill smiled as if he wasn’t brutally injured. “Gaia? Terra?”

“Yes?” the voices said in unison.

“I want you to promise me you’ll treat Matt here with just as much respect as you gave me all this time. I pass my title and my agency onto you. I am William Weasley. You, friend, are Agent Moon.” Sirens rang out outside, and yet the air felt still and calm.

Agent Moon looked down at Bill. “You need to get to a hospital. I imagine there’s a fire crew and ambulance outside, someone must have seen the smoke. I’ll get you down to them and…go from there.”

Matt watched the ambulance with Bil inside leave, before putting on the headpiece, remembering to turn the volume down first. “H-Hello?” he said, softly, “Can you hear me?”

There was a moment of hesitation, before one of the two spoke. “Welcome to the Midnight Foundation…Agent Moon. I’m agent Terra, and the other person you heard was agent Gaia…my sister.”

“Way to be a secret agent, Terra-”

“Moon said to treat him with respect, didn’t he?”

“He’s not Moon anymore, he’s just Bill, remember?!”

“Guys!” Matt said, a little louder. “Look, I promised Bill I’d complete his mission but I can’t do it alone. I don’t even know what I’m trying to find. I…” he paused, taking a breath, and reminding himself what Bill had said when they first met. That it was ok to ask for help. “I need you two as support. Both in terms of the mission and…emotionally, too.”

Sunset turned to night as Matthew prepared for what was to come. He managed to grab what materials he could from upstairs (tip toeing on what parts of the floor remained). Looking at a laptop screen connected to the Midnight Foundation channel, he could see the icons for agents Gaia and Terra. Both had glasses, but Terra had shorter hair and Gaia had longer.

Matt also listened to the duo discuss his objective, though they, much like him, were distracted by finding out if Bill was ok.

“He’s been taken to the nearest hospital and is getting treatment now.” Gaia said, which told Matt that this Midnight Foundation had a lot of reach in terms of intelligence-gathering.

“Did it look…bad?” Terra asked, “...his injuries, I mean.”

Matthew shrugged. “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but…”

“Come on, we can’t think like that.” Gaia said, bringing up building blueprints on-screen. “Agent Moon, your mission is as follows: Infiltrate Reflection International and secure the identification device on the 28th floor, then escape. Terra and I will be waiting in a minivan outside for you to depart in.”

“Oh, not the minivan-”

“Yes, the minivan. We need to run interference on the device so Matt can make it up there without being ID’d. If it got Bill’s fake ID, it would get him without us.”

Terra sighed in defeat. “Fair enough.”

Matthew pushed the hair out of his face. He had put on one of Bill’s jackets, discovering he had packed several. In the pockets he found a variety of useful items, including a Swiss Army Knife, a spare earpiece, a phone, a length of rope and…ah. Matthew pulled a large something out of the jacket’s inside pocket. He looked at it and blinked a couple of times. It suddenly dawned on him just what he might have gotten himself into.

“What?” Gaia asked , with Matthew able to hear the roar of the minivan’s engine over the earpiece, “Just because we’re British we still give our agents guns. Ready to go?”

Matthew put it back into his pocket, making sure the safety hadn’t slipped. “Ready as I’ll ever be. For Bill’s sake, I hope that’s enough.”

#hphm #back by midnight #matthew luther #hphm spy au #bill weasley #agent moon #agent gaia #agent terra #rowan khanna #merula snyde

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ayearwithoutwater · 6 months ago

Text

Nine.

I remember regarding the vicissitudes of my love life in 2014 rather wryly.

I felt caught between—by—a trio of men: my personal triumvirate, I'd named them amongst my closest friends. Alberto, Stephen, and John were united in my mind by their graduation year, as all three were just one year ahead of me in college, as well as by the persistent notion I'd had that they'd all resided at the same dorm in their freshman year. Although they weren't personally acquainted with one another, they knew of each other, perhaps mostly through me and the stories I'd tell them of the others. I'd met them independently as a sophomore during what I'd later come to view as the most formative year of my love life thus far.

By 2014, I had already created defined roles for each of them in the narrative of my life. Alberto was the loving boyfriend who would soon depart for the next exciting chapter of his life, Stephen was the off-limits figure with whom I had palpable chemistry, chemistry that I pointedly chose to ignore out of fear that I would do something I'd regret, and John was the equally beautiful and philosophical man whose presence was profoundly aspirational. While graduation brought separation for Alberto and me, it also gave me space to explore myself with the remaining two.

I confess that there aren't enough words for now to give as much attention as I'd like to Stephen, but that's fine; John was always today's intended focal point, most specifically because he was my formative one that got away.

When I first met him in China Gazing, the seminar we shared, I didn't think much of him. Honestly, I didn't pay much attention to any of my classmates; 2013 was a busy time for me, and I was perennially preoccupied with my seventeen-hour days.

John set himself apart from the rest of our classmates with his insights during our roundtable discussions. China Gazing was one of our college's few courses that examined, broadly speaking, Chinese culture and society via its presence within the proliferation of written materials and literature produced by Westerners; it was one of few meta-analytical courses taught at my college that dealt with my heritage as parsed through Western conceptions and could easily be put into conversation with the discursive output of Edward Said, which explains my interest in the subject matter…and John's, too.

John grew up in San Francisco with mixed Irish and Chinese ancestry. Later, I would marvel at his prodigious command of Chinese, particularly his fluency in Mandarin outpacing my own despite him having grown up in a Cantonese household. (Plenty of people are capably or equally fluent in both, but his mastery was all the more impressive to me because he is a second- or third-generation Chinese American.) In class, his essays and input stood out to me from the rest because he spoke eloquently (and without pretension) while offering novel analyses of our coursework; suffice it to say that, almost immediately, it was he who I strived to emulate. Merely knowing that he would hear what I had to contribute to any discourse was enough motivation for me to devote special effort to my preparations for class—I wanted to appear nothing less than erudite.

In hindsight, John was probably my first intellectual crush. Everything he said seemed to be something that nobody else had ever conceptualized, and his writing seemed full of references both seminal and obscure that I could build an entire syllabus around solely his bibliographies. Perhaps I myself was simply unlearned—he'd had an entire year of life more than I did to study, after all—but wasn't that the point of college, to be surrounded by intellectuals and inspired? While my friends were off reading Foucault and Freud, I wanted to read John.

I can't say that I remember how we became friends, which is probably to say that it wasn't too important. Class ended with the semester, and I no longer had anything in common with him, but I would still see him around, sometimes. As I ascended the ranks of our student government, I ran into him more and more often because he had a vested interest as a composer in our music club. As the class of 2014 graduated, I was suddenly single, and I found myself attending the same graduation party thrown by our college. He, too, was single.

I remember being plied with wine by all of my friends. I remember being a nuisance, walking around to tipsily ask all of my gay male friends in attendance why they weren't attracted to me (to which their joking response was that they were). I remember seeing John from across the room and making eye contact with him. I remember walking directly towards him, ignoring anyone and everyone else. I remember us sequestering ourselves within the photo booth for hire, and I remember kissing him for the first time.

I don't—didn't—know what I'd expected. It was as if kissing him unlocked from deep within me a torrent of truths that I had never given the space or effort to confront, that he was ridiculously handsome from the shape of his eyes to the sharpness of his jawline, that I was immeasurably attracted to him but never realized it because I'd locked away in the recesses of my psyche even the tiniest inkling of attraction to anyone else because I already had a partner. It wasn't just that he was smart—it was also that he was unbelievably beautiful.

I had a Lily Allen concert to attend, but, later that night, I slept with him in his Harlem apartment.

I remember feeling bewildered. I remember clumsily going through the motions in his bed because I was freshly out of a relationship, and I was in complete disbelief that the most stunning species of man was interested in me. I'd never been with anyone else other than my first boyfriend, and I wasn't sure how to behave in uncharted territory.

I hate to say it, but it was also uncanny because he was kind of an older brother figure to me. He was someone who sort of looked like me and therefore also had gone through life facing similar obstacles as I did or would. I often went to him for advice, whether personal or academic or philosophical, and I treasured his presence in my life. When our relationship became physical, I felt awkward because I felt that I didn't measure up. I didn't feel insecure, but I felt as though I still had some growing to do.

I think I botched it. Over the summer, our time together was marred by him trying to figure out his preferred type of employment and, predominantly, me trying to answer the question: how soon was too soon? I liked John a lot, but conventional wisdom said that any relationship that developed too soon after a prior relationship would be doomed to be a rebound and nothing more. But, I didn't want him to be a rebound, and I certainly didn't want him to feel as though he was one, because I liked him a lot and I wanted his company. Still, between that and my lingering sadness for my breakup with Alberto, I felt like a mess. Summer was here, the days were warm and I had all the freedom in the world to move on with my life, but I felt intuitively that I needed to slow down and process. I wanted to be with John, too, but I was afraid of being inadequate.

I remember a conversation over brunch with John at Serafina that to this day defines the restaurant chain in my mind. I remember him offering to bring me Chipotle on a day when I was particularly depressed. I remember having my read receipts on for text messaging and leaving his messages to me unread, because I was possessed by some ridiculously misguided notion that being fair to him meant nipping our budding situationship or relationship or whatever it was, because I was afraid of breaking his heart, too. It wasn't quite cutting off my nose to spite my face, but it may as well have been because the end result was the same: I denied myself what I wanted for no reason other than to appear noble and soured my relationship with him in the process.

Seasons later, he invited me to his birthday. It was a casual gathering of the people in his life as he celebrated at a nightclub, and I showed up late. Again, I was awkward, but I knew I still liked him, and I felt more ready to explore that. As we greeted each other, I wanted to kiss him—but he was no longer interested. Embarrassed, I ran away, hiding myself in a bathroom stall while one of our mutual friends consoled me over text messages, telling me that the timing just wasn't working out. The next year, he moved to Hong Kong.

Honestly, I don't know if he was actually the one that got away. I don't know if we would've worked out. Our interest in each other was reciprocated, but everyone tells me that the right person at the wrong time is still the wrong person.

It doesn't matter. Whether or not he's actually my one that got away is immaterial because what matters more to me is that he was the first in my life to personify that trope: whereas Alberto set the standard for the boyfriends I would come to have, John set the standard for the boyfriends I would come to never have. Again, it all came down to choice. I chose to commit to Alberto just as I chose not to commit to John. I pressed myself to avoid making John my rebound but, in retrospect, I should've just let myself go all in instead of imposing arbitrary rules upon myself for no rationale other than to perform correctness, as if there's a correct way to accept the love that entered my life.

A decade later, John was one of the men upon whom I relied during my year without water. Time's distance did little to separate him from his big brother archetype in my head. As I parsed my newest breakup with him, I confessed to him that, all those years ago, I'd loved him, too, and that I was sorry for how I had behaved.

I suppose that my experience with John taught me not to fetishize a perfect goodness, to not let it stand in the way of romance, because there is no perfect love. It's taught me to accept the flaws that realistically accompany any relationship, which therefore has empowered me to go after what (or whom) I want—not just someone who checks most, not all, of my boxes—because perfection does not exist.

Equally, I've been wondering whether I've ever been that person for anyone else. I've wondered whether any of my exes look back at me as their person that got away, but I suppose it's all moot. I think I might have been idealizing the role of the one that got away out of fear—fear that I wouldn't be the one that was chosen, birthed from a childhood of being the one that was left behind. Yet, all my insecurities and arbitrary rules have done nothing but prevent me from living the life I've been wanting to live, and so I'm now choosing to stand my ground as I stare down my future. I've come to conclude that I'm not going to be the one that got away, anymore or if at all—instead, I'm going to be the one that chose to stay.

It is, after all, the more interesting choice.

#substack #a year without water

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