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stusbunker · 4 years

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Hunters’ Crossing: Moving In

A Kinky Swingin’ Supernatural AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader

Written for: @spnkinkbingo

Word Count: 3535

Square Filled: Teasing

Summary: Dean and you work on moving into your new house. Which just happens to be Sam and Rowena’s old place. A neighbor stops by while Dean is out, welcoming you to the cul-de-sac. As the day goes on, you enjoy distracting your husband until he has had enough.

Warnings: 18yo+, shower sex, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, fingering, anal sex, analingus, dirty talk, just happy couple smut.

Pre-read by @cracksinthewalls & @thoughtslikeaminefield (who also made the awesome header).

Dean had been up and itching to get the show on the road for over an hour. The only things left unboxed in the two bedroom ranch, you had been renting since moving back to town, was the mattress, bedframe and a change of clothes. As of sometime after midnight, Dean and you were packed and ready to go. Unfortunately for your husband, you were still sound asleep.

He started pacing, or what sounded like pacing from your exhausted face-down state. It turned out he had started moving the boxes from your room to the driveway.

Dean wasn’t being loud, but it was really fucking early for that.

You crawled out of bed just after eight, shrugged into the old top and leggings you had left out the night before, and prayed he had gotten coffee.

“And she’s up,” Dean snapped his fingers in excitement. You grumbled your good morning, but snuggled into his side as he dialed Benny, his lead mechanic and the guy who was bringing the trailer. You nursed your coffee (with all the right fixings) as Dean finished his call.

“Can you believe where we’re gonna be livin’?” Dean kissed your temple, then looked down at you like a kid on the way to Disneyland.

“Uh, yeah, so can the bank account. You’re lucky you’re so cute and Sam’s lucky you have a soft spot for him,” you finished on a mumble.

“You love that house, don’t be like that,” Dean tisked at you.

“I do! I do. It’s just, I could have slept for like four more hours,” you whined. “Thank you for my coffee.”

Dean rolled his eyes at you, but you could tell he was pleased he had done good. You left a quick kiss on his jaw before he walked away to start hauling more things outside.

Barely ten minutes had passed when Benny and Bobby sauntered up the walkway. Before you had even metabolized the caffeine, the first trip was underway.

Hunter’s Crossing was the last cul-de-sac at the end of Lawrence Lane. Which ran the length of the development known as the Ethereal Estates. The four bedroom, three bathroom McMansion that you and Dean had purchased from his younger brother Sam was on the northern corner, facing south. Dean pulled the Impala into the garage with Benny and Bobby with the truck and trailer filling the driveway right behind you.

As you climbed from the passenger’s seat, Benny let out an impressed whistle.

“Damn, Boss, you’ve gone full country club on us,” the large man drawled.

“Can it, nimrod, or you’ll give him an even bigger head,” Bobby warned. Benny and you both laughed.

“You done? Cuz, last time I checked you can walk and talk,” Dean snipped, only half-heartedly. Bobby gave you a gentle smile as you shivered against the early spring air. You all fell in line behind Dean and awaited your assignments.

Two hours into hauling furniture, Garth showed up to give a hand. Unlike Bobby and Benny, who worked directly for Dean at Winchester & Son’s garage, Garth, a long time friend, was an accountant who helped Dean learn the books when John retired. His wife Bess was the kindest person you had ever met.

You were settled into organizing mode when the guys left to pick up the last round of boxes. Then, the doorbell rang.

A man stood on the front porch, draped against the doorframe like he had known you for years, tucked into a fitted black suit paired with the softest looking tee shirt you had ever seen. His mischievous eyes crinkled above a flirtatious smirk as he introduced himself.

“Baz, hi, I’m at the center of the loop. Welcome to the neighborhood, wish it were over better circumstances, but happy to keep it in the family, as it were,” he rolled off before you could even reply. He must be in sales, you thought.

“Hi,” you gave him your name, finding it easy to smile under his charms.

“You're the sister-in-law? So where’s brother dearest?” He teased in a tonal accent.

“Oh you know, sent him to do the heavy lifting. They’ll be back before long.” You stood up straighter.

“Right, well, we’re having a dinner party next week. It’s kind of a regular thing, we take turns hosting, and my wife’ll kill me if I don’t pass on the invite. Friday at seven? We have cocktails, and get gussied up for one another,” he mentioned passively, but you caught the drift. It wasn’t a backyard barbecue. “It’s all a bit pretentious if you ask me-- Well, who am I kidding, right?”

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at his expense. “It sounds great--- Bash?”

“Baz,” his voice sizzled along the last letter.

“Baz, sorry. Uh, I’ll have to check with Dean, but I don’t think we have anything going on.” You gave him your best customer smile.

“How about I’ll just pop back when you’re better settled? I didn’t mean to pressure you, love,” Baz waved as he backed off the porch.

“You’re fine, really,” you apologized. “It’s just the first day, a lot to sort out.”

“Of course! Take your time. Right, well, I’ll be seeing you, ta ta,” Baz waved with a tight lipped grin.

You closed the door and exhaled. That was more than you had heard from your neighbors in the three years you had lived at your last place. It was kind of exciting getting an invitation on the first day, now if you could just convince your husband to go. But Dean didn’t really get ‘gussied up’ for much.

Dean found you in the kitchen, kneeling on the counters as you sorted the plates. There was so much space, everything was able to get its own shelf. You heard him start the tap, just out of your line of sight. Quickly, you sensed his amusement as you continued to stack and place the piles by size.

“Don’t laugh at me, it’s easier this way,” you said without looking at him. When he didn’t reply, you grew curious to what he was up to, slowly you turned around to find him leaning against the island which held the double sink, eyes firmly on your ass. You sighed, but leered back at him, down to just his t-shirt after the last of your belongings had been unloaded. He wiped his wet lips with the hem of his shirt, flashing the sweaty plane of his abs at you.

“Don’t mind me, carry on,” Dean sassed, waving you back to the task at hand.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, pushing off the counter with an exaggerated arched back. You broke down the box and moved onto the next, knowing Dean was enjoying his water break more than he should.

“Why don’t you call for pizza? Get the guys fed for all their help,” you suggested as you climbed back up to stock another set of cabinets, this time with glassware.

Dean nodded before he finished off the last of his water. As he scrolled through his phone for a number, you remembered your visitor.

“Babe? You got anything going on on Friday?” You watched him think.

“No, why?” Dean didn’t look up, brow scrunched in concentration.

“We were invited to the neighbors’ for a dinner party,” you sing-songed the last words, emphasizing the level of chic.

“What neighbors?” Dean paused.

“The ones in the big house in the middle. Baz, was his name. Said they do it a lot and take turns hosting,” you shrugged. “Could be fun. It was nice to be welcomed to the neighborhood.”

“How long was this guy here?” Dean’s face froze in suspicion.

“He just stopped by!” You chuckled aghast, but you couldn’t hide the blush Dean’s interrogation had brought back.

“So, what, he just conveniently shows up to check out the hot new neighbor when he saw us leave?” Dean shook his head and stood straight, squaring off. “I don’t know, sounds like a creepy thing to do.”

“Shut up, he’s married! He said his wife would kill him if he didn’t extend the invitation. Calm down, would ya?” You hopped down to face him. Dean grumbled and went back to his phone. “Hey?”

“What?” Dean huffed.

“I love you.” You placed your chin on his shoulder as he got over his temporary pouting.

“Yeah?” Dean cocked an eyebrow, and smirked at you.

“Yep.” You popped the p.

“You want the usual?” Dean put his phone to the opposite ear.

“Please?” You grinned, as he settled against the sink once more.

His fingertips swatted the curve of your hip as you walked away.

You had left an entire room for the empty boxes. Without enough furniture to fill the space and after Sam and Rowena sold off half of theirs to cover the costs of the divorce, it was easy to let the cardboard pile up as the day went on. As you waited for lunch to arrive, you trudged through the living room to drop off another few flattened boxes.

Dean asked Benny and Garth to reassemble your bed and the guest bed upstairs, while he and Bobby organized tools and lawn equipment in the garage. You could see Dean and the older man talking through the window in the study, or the current box depot. Your husband had a fantastic profile and you took a few moments to appreciate it.

Slowly you tore yourself from your reverie and started to break down the remaining intact boxes. You quickly grew overheated and bent over to crack the window. You caught Dean’s eye as you wrenched the stiff windowpane up. He was watching you from the tops of his eyes, mouth open as his tongue played with his top teeth.

He always had such a sinful mouth.

The glint of chrome flashed from his window up to yours, the wrenches he was lining up nearly forgotten as you ducked your head out the window, strategically pinning your breasts between your folded arms. He was not shy about taking in the show, his eyes grew dangerous with want.

There was a sudden pounding on the front door. Just as quickly as you draped yourself out the window, you rocked back and away from Dean’s hungry glare.

The beer bottle was cold against your lips as you let the tangy liquid wash down the mouthful of pizza you had practically inhaled. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the smell wafted in from off the porch. Best pizza around and you were finally in the delivery radius, suburbia already had its perks.

“Save some for us, darlin’,” Benny teased, as he cracked off the top to his bottle.

"Hey, I'm not the one driving anywhere, you get your one, the rest are mine," you sassed back.

You took another sip, locking eyes with your husband across the table. He licked his lips before taking a generous swallow of beer. A familiar heat sizzled in his eyes.

"Good to know who's really in charge," Bobby nudged Garth to hand him his beer, which Garth passed on.

"I don't want to get drunk," the skinny man reasoned.

"Yeah, and I don't want to have to call Bess to pick you up," Dean agreed and took the offered beer from Bobby, though his was nearly full.

"Somebody's ready to celebrate," Bobby teased.

"They're ready for something," Benny taunted. "A little horizontal mambo seems to be in the cards."

"It has been a long day, a little might be all he's got left," Bobby agreed.

You almost spit out your beer as you giggled with their banter. Dean chugged his beer and rolled his shoulders.

"Mind your business, or I'll have you work late every Friday until I'm sick of looking at ya," Dean said after a faint belch.

"Yes, sir," Benny nodded, smirking at you with a little wink. You shook your head and sighed. The food quickly disappeared alongside the beer, leaving you all stuffed and lethargic. You rolled your shoulders and followed the guys out through the garage. Dean shook hands goodbye while you leaned against the double wide door frame, smiling and waving. You were grateful for all they had done to get you settled in.

“Have a good weekend, boys!” you called, watching them climb into the truck. Dean sauntered back to your side, sweat stained shirt rumpled, hair askew, and handsome as ever.

“Ready to go break in that fancy shower?” he asked, fingertip dragging your hair from your pulse point. A devilish chill ran down your spine, you couldn’t help but shiver from his touch.

“I am beat, Hot Stuff,” you lamented. “A shower does sound amazing though.”

“Let’s get you naked, then we’ll see who’s beat,” Dean punned horribly.

You groaned and then gave him a meager chuckle. “Do you even hear yourself sometimes?”

“I’m fucking hilarious, it’s one of the reasons you married me,” Dean insisted, leading you back into the house by the small of your back. You stomped through the mudroom and passed the kitchen to the stairs, every step up felt like you had concrete bricks for feet.

“No rush or anything,” Dean teased, hands firmly on your hips, always so supportive.

“Why did we buy a two story house?”! You fell dramatically forward, slumped on the landing, with your legs and arms askew like limp noodles. “Can I just nap here first? It’s so far!”

Dean stood two steps behind you, hands on his hips and bitch face on. “Really?”

You rolled to your back, knees bent and propped yourself up on your elbows, as if it was the hardest thing in the world. Starring up at his annoyed face, you got creative.

“Please? Just take a little break with me?” You opened your legs suggestively, seeing his eyes rake over your body before he rolled them in mock annoyance.

“Five minutes, then I’m getting clean, with or without you,” Dean warned. He fell into the cradle of your thighs, his chest was flush with your heat, as his face burrowed into your cleavage. His arms snaked around your shoulders, holding you up to him like a pillow. It would have been uncomfortable, if he didn’t feel so damn good squishing you into the plush carpet.

Every inch he touched burned through your clothing, the radiant heat of his body oozing into your tired muscles, turning your blood into molten sludge, pooling at your core. Dean hummed and shifted above you, the tip of his nose teasing a nipple.

“I can’t wait to fuck you in every room of this house,” Dean murmured, voice husky and full of promise. “Gonna make you scream my name until there is no doubt every inch of this place belongs to me.”

“To us,” you replied, pulling his face up to look at your lust blown eyes.

“Just you and me,” Dean agreed, kissing a clothed tit, and then the next. He slid up on his toes until his hard edges crooked against your welcoming curves. Then he kissed you blind.

You twisted your hands into his hair and the back of his shirt, clinging to him as he sucked every memory of exhaustion from your mind. The satisfaction of a day’s work done and the hope of new beginnings flooded into your already happy existence, filling you with a blissed out giddiness as Dean began to grind his hips against you. You gasped, breaking the kiss, before dragging his shirt over his head.

He leaned back and placed a swift kiss on your lips. “Five minutes are up.”

You groaned in dismay as Dean untangled himself from your limbs and climbed the last six steps to the second floor.

“You coming or what?” He barked at you, belt already flapping open, erection poking his shorts out of his fly.

Dean usually hated shower sex, too many slippery surfaces and not a lot of space to get things done. But now that you had a walk in shower stall, custom-made for his giant brother, Dean had become an enthusiast.

What started on the stairs, led to him staying dressed on the bottom half until you were completely bare. Then he started the water, letting it get as close to boiling as he could stand and how he knew you liked it. He escorted you under the massive showerhead and pulled back your hair, letting the water soak every inch of your skin.

He wouldn’t let you touch him.

Then he started to scrub, louva sudsy and soothing over your shoulders, under your arms, around your breasts, leaving the parts that needed him most tight and wanting. Once you were as clean as he was going to let you get, Dean brought out the shampoo, letting you finish, not trusting himself to be gentle enough with your tresses.

It took him less than five seconds to finally get naked.

Once your hands reached above your head, Dean started his attack. He lapped one nipple into his hungry mouth as you groaned. Dean watched you the entire time as he mouthed your tits, wanting to push you to the edge as many times as he could get away with.

Fucking tease.

Then he moved between your legs, and the way he left parts of you unwashed all made sense. Because he wanted to taste you, not your floral body wash. He fell to his knees and hooked a thigh over his shoulder, leaving rough kisses on each thigh. Back and forth he went until you were dizzy and whimpering. He rinsed his hands and licked his finger tips for good measure, watching you wait for him to get on with it.

Then he began to stroke your folds. Ever so carefully, he pulled you open, cherishing the way you quaked for him. Your wetness only aiding in the tortuously slow glide of his fingers, front to back, back to front. After more breaths than you could keep track of, Dean pressed into you, two calloused fingers as deep as they could go.

You grasped his neck, desperate to hold on, because as soon as he would, you needed Dean’s tongue on your throbbing clit.

“Whoa--- everything alright up there?” Dean said with laughter in his voice.

“God, fuck, Dean,” you begged.

“Yeah?”

“Please, stud, I need you,” you panted, nails digging into his back.

“Might want to think about how you were acting all day then. Climbing around like a jungle cat. Practically flashing me and Bobby in the garage. Flirting with the neighbors,” Dean tisked at you. “I’m just giving you what you gave me.”

Then he shut up and put out. That sinful mouth decadently pulled and puckered every inch of flesh, until you were screaming over the torrent of the shower. Once his tongue joined his fingers, you were gone. Liquid heat squeezed out of you as your body shuddered out the aftermath, thanking his skillful digits for their efforts.

At long last, you were bent in half, hands braced against the intricate tile as he speared into you from behind. Your body fighting to keep the water out, which only pushed Dean to thrust harder against the unrelenting tightness. Your legs were going to give out soon, it was all too much, the warmth of the shower and the way, even on your tiptoes, Dean had to crouch with his bowed legs to hit your sweet spot with every single stroke.

When he smacked your ass, you faltered, elbows bending and falling forward. He caught you, slowly easing out of your abused cunt, until you were back on steady feet. You turned to kiss his pink lips, still heady with your juices. Carefully Dean reached behind you to turn off the water, brushing his chest against yours. You reached up and pinched his nipple. In return, he let his hand drop down to cup your mound, tapping a gentle rhythm across your slit.

“Ready for that nap, now?” He offered, kissing your temple.

“Definitely.

You spent the rest of the weekend unpacking and screwing, just like Dean wanted: in every room of the house.

He ate you out as a pre-breakfast in bed, first thing Sunday morning, slow and dirty. The noises that came from his plush lips made you writhe just as much as the work his tongue put in. You sucked him off while he made you a proper meal, but only during the prep work as bacon spatter is nothing to toy with.

You rode him while he tried to watch opening week baseball highlights in your new living room, your bare legs deliciously smooth against the leather of the couch. He took your ass after he watched you doing laundry, bending down to pull the hot towels out of the dryer was too much for him. So, he dragged you up stairs to a spare bedroom, licked you clean and then worked you twice over before slamming home and filling you filthy.

Moving was the best idea you’d ever had. You loved the house and couldn’t wait to get to know your neighbors. Life was good, you just didn’t realize it could get even better.

Tagging: @dolphincliffs @fangirlxwritesx67 @foxyjwls007 @akshi8278 @dontshootmespence @smi727 @ericaprice2008 @deandreamernp @mrswhozeewhatsis @itmighthavebeenintentional

Let me know what you think?

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2020 Kink Bingo Masterlist

#hunters' crossing #spnkinkbingo #dean winchester smut #dean/reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester au #spn au series #spn smut

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1200

Have you ever felt a baby kick? Yeah, when my mom was pregnant with my brother.

What color pants/shorts are you wearing? I have red shorts on at the moment.

When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Last Friday, I’d say? Hahaha. Counted down the hours and minutes before the Butter MV drop, celebrating and freaking out with Army when it finally came out, watched the OT7 VLive that happened that afternoon, and streamed the video for nearly 24 hours straight so we could break some records, all of which we ended up achieving. It feels great to stan a group again after being out of the loop for so long lol.

What was the scariest moment of your life? A few men have lunged towards me - just to get attention, I guess? - in the past, while I was just peacefully walking. I always hear them snickering once I’ve flinched, and I always ended up crying once I’ve processed the situation.

Have you ever heard of Leonard Cohen? I know of the name, but I have no clue who he is or what he does (did?).

Pancakes or flapjacks? I don’t even know what flapjacks are, so let’s go with pancakes.

What kind of computer are you on? I’m using a Macbook Air.

Do you eat Chinese food? If so, what's your favorite dish? Yes. Minced pork with eggplant.

What are you usually doing at midnight? On weekdays, I spend it in bed, either watching videos or already reading fanfics to get ready to turn in. On Friday nights and weekends, I will usually be found on the rooftop taking a survey or two.

Have you ever developed feelings for a friend, but you were already with someone? No, I’ve never developed feelings for another person while in a relationship.

If so, how did it turn out?

Give me your brief definition of love. I will always stick by this quote, “Love never says, ‘I have done enough.’”

What is the most beautiful part of the human body, male or female? This is subjective, of course, but personally I find it to be thighs.

What kind of shoes do you wear? I’m not wearing any at the moment; but in general, I like to wear sneakers.

What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Physical violence.

Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? Nope.

Do you like the smell of coconuts? Not so much. I like coconut milk, though.

What is the heaviest you think you can lift? I think my personal best was like 60 or 70 lbs, back when I had weight training classes for PE in college. I remember being in so much pain once I gave the 80 lbs barbell a shot.

Do you take Tums? No.

Have you ever walked on a pier at the beach? ...Ugh. I’m pretty sure I’ve taken this survey very recently but I might as well just take it again because I don’t feel like searching for another. Anyway, I haven’t... at least not that I can remember.

How about under one? Definitely not.

At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? I was around 12 when I was starting to feel confused about getting nervous around Andi.

Do you feel that way around anyone now? I don’t.

Do you ever talk to yourself or think deep thoughts while on the toilet? No haha but I usually bring my phone with me to keep me company.

Do you ever sing to yourself? Pretty often.

What is a sound that relaxes you? Ocean waves.

How hard has it been to reach your main goal in life? I don’t have a main goal set in life. I just live in the now and try to do things or make decisions that would keep me consistently happy.

Do you remember the song about hoes in different area codes? HAHAHAHAHA definitely took this recently; this is so embarassing. No, I still don’t know about this song.

What is your main heritage? Filipino.

What kind of pickles do you prefer, if you like pickles? I hate pickles and I find them absolutely nasty, but there are other pickled things I like, like radishes.

What kind of cheese do you prefer, if you like cheese? Mozzarella and feta.

If you could have a sea creature as a pet, what would you want? No thanks. I’m not capable of providing them proper care.

How about a farm animal? I would just stick to dogs.

So, do you have hoes in different area codes?

What is the most annoying song you can think of that came out recently? I’ve been in a BTS bubble for a solid month or so and I honestly can’t tell you my opinion about songs that have recently come out, because I literally don’t know any.

What is a song that you hate to admit you like? There isn’t any I’m guilty about.

What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? Knowing I’ll feel accomplished once I do it.

Do you ever use Urban Dictionary? Never anymore. I used to browse through it only when I was a lot younger.

Do you find the definitions on there to be generally funny or stupid? Both.

What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'transformation'? The Transformers series, lol.

What was something you regularly played with as a child? I always liked clay and I never really graduated from that interest, since I find the texture fascinating and fun to play with.

Have you ever given in to peer pressure? Sure.

If so, what did you do? I had my first sip of alcohol at Kaira’s 18th birthday and I was feeling left out since literally everyone else was drinking. For vaping, Gabie introduced it to me; and for smoking, it was another case of FOMO that made me want to try it out.

What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? My back.

Do a lot of people check you out when you're in public? Idk? I don’t take note of that kind of attention, anyway; I would find it creepy.

How many people do you know for sure to be interested in you right now? Zero.

What is a good name for a turtle? I think it would be the same process as the way I think it would be for any other pet; it would depend on their personality, their aura, etc.

Can you imitate any accents well? If so, which one(s)? Not really. I can read Hangul and am familiar with the different tonalities used in Korean but I wouldn’t say my imitation would be considered spot-on.

Do you like having your ear nibbled on? Yes.

What makes a good kisser a good kisser? When they know how to use their tongue in a teasing way, for one. Eugh it’s too early for this lol

How many times a year do you have a family thing? What even is a family thing?

What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I don’t like smoothies.

Do you ever eat with your eyes closed and just focus on the taste? Yup, especially when I’m either eating somewhere pricey or when I’m eating at one of my favorite restaurants.

What do you dislike most about where you live right now? It’s a pretty uneventful city, and if I want to have some fun I always have to go to Manila.

Has anyone ever given you a rose/roses? Yup.

Are you watching your weight? No.

Have you ever became really good friends with someone you found online? Yes. Aliyah and I are still friends and I’m glad we’ve been able to maintain our friendship even after mine and Gab’s falling out. It’s a shame the three of us didn’t get to meet in real life though, and it will 100% never happen now. I also used to have a group of Twitter friends back in my wrestling stan days but it’s been a very long time since we’ve gone our separate ways. I have yet to find friends on Army Twitter but I really doubt I would get to build established friendships any time soon because EVERYONE IS SO YOUNG OVER THERE

What makes your best friend your best friend? They understand me better than anyone else does.

Do you have a drunk uncle? I have a couple of them.

Do you hear weird noises in your house at night? Nope.

What is something you do that is generally more like something the opposite sex does? Ignoring this question.

What is the girliest thing you do, if you're a girl? Also ignoring this.

What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? I find line tattoos to be pretty cool and beautiful in general. The minimalist look it goes for works really well.

Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? That vase I molded during my Vigan trip :) It was the first (and so far) only thing I’ve made from scratch, and even though I didn’t get to take it home, I’m still glad I had the opportunity to try pottery.

Do you only eat the middle of the oreo, if you eat oreos? No? That’s pretty wasteful. I eat the whole cookie.

Do you know anyone with a huge ego? Hahahahaha. Yes.

If so, is there anything else about them you actually like? Not anymore, no.

Have you ever used a racial slur, even jokingly? Most likely as a stupid teenager when I didn’t know any better.

Do you have any friends who are more like siblings to you? Angela and Laurice.

If so, what about them do you like most? They’re very easy to talk to, and they’re both selfless and generous.

What is everyone else in your house doing right now? My mom is making dinner while I believe everyone else is just on their phones waiting for the dish to be made.

What is the most money you've ever had at one time? I don’t remember the exact amounts anymore but my mom used to hand me cheques and regularly assign me to pay for me and my sister’s tuition back in grade school and high school, since she had work during the day and didn’t have time to stop by the school herself.

How long do you think it would take you to run a mile? I don’t know but definitely longer than what would be considered a decent duration for a fit person.

Look down. What do you see? I can see my legs but just barely since it’s dark out.

What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Topics I don’t know too much about.

What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? BTS, my field, and history.

What kind of mood were you in most of today? Comfortable. We had the aircon on all day and I just watched BTS MVs and live performances, and I don’t really feel bad about being unproductive for once.

Has anyone ever walked in on you naked? Just once or twice.

Tell me an inside joke you have with someone. Togepi.

What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Tell me hurtful words.

What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Idk...maybe cut them off unexpectedly? I'll usually have no problem doing this with people who make me uncomfortable.

How do you feel now about the first person you ever dated? Nothing. She’s not in my life.

How about the last person (your last ex)? She’s the same person.

What is the best invention ever invented? The internet.

What is something that needs to be invented? Not a completely new invention but I wish programs that can identify songs for you, like Siri, can be more improved to be able to recognize songs just by humming the tone. So far they can only name songs if you play it clearly for a few seconds, but it can be a hassle if I wanna have access to a certain song but only remember the melody and otherwise have no idea what the lyrics are or who sang them.

Describe your eyes. I don’t think they’re anything special. I don’t count them as a striking feature of mine.

What always makes you burp? Eating quickly. And beer.

What is something you hate doing that most couples do? There isn’t anything.

What's your astrological sign? Taurus.

What are you doing tomorrow? I wanna finally watch the Friends reunion special since I didn’t feel like watching it today. I also have a press release to write for one of my clients – they requested for it Friday and want it by Monday :(

#survey #surveys

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menswearmusings · 4 years

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Profile in Style—Ahmed From Qatar

One of the nicest things about the age we live in, with the technology we have, is being able to connect with people we’d never in a thousand years prior have made connections with. Not only that, but to learn and find common interests with those people. In Florence at Pitti last month, I met all kinds of people I instantly had a camaraderie with simply because we were both Styleforum members, or followed each on Instagram. It’s something truly wonderful that’s somehow easy to take for granted.

One man the miracle of the Internet has connected me with is Ahmed from Qatar, who goes by the handle _a_1970 on Instagram. I’ve been following him for about a year, ever since the guys at Anglo-Italian posted a photo of him (cropping his head, as he often does) in their shop. Besides Anglo-Italian, he posts photos wearing clothes from bespoke tailors like Dalcuore and Zizolfi.

His style is compelling to me for its easiness and simplicity. Sometimes I feel like I need a bit more in my outfits: another accessory, or another layer, or something to make it stand out. But seeing Ahmed’s fits reminds me that finding your uniform and nailing the basics is about as radical act as you can do.

Ahmed in a bespoke jacket by The Anthology. Photo courtesy Charles Yang.

You’ll typically see him wearing a sportcoat, open-collared shirt (or polo or turtleneck) and odd trousers. He doesn’t usually wear colors outside the menswear pantheon of navy, forest and olive greens, maroons, tans, browns, and grays. But what I like in particular is how he combines those colors in a way that I wouldn’t think to do, making it look natural and effortless. Often I’m too afraid to wear more than one dominant color, so I tend to go subdued or tonal with everything else. You’ll see Ahmed combining two or sometimes three colors with ease, naturally pairing complementary or tertiary colors, and it doesn’t look busy nor do the undertones clash.

I also think part of the appeal of his style to me is that he subtly subverts expectations one might have for someone his age. Pairing a polo shirt or washed denim button-up with a jacket isn’t something you see every day on an older man; on him, it adds a little youthful energy to his tailoring (as he says below, 1940s/50s elegance with a modern twist).

I also think he’s a poster child for soft Italian tailoring. Even devoid of personal context, I can tell he is comfortable. Once again, one might think someone his age should be wearing strong-shouldered, structured jackets to compensate for his rounded, slightly droopy shoulders. The subversion of that expectation makes his style appealing as well. Basically I want to dress like Ahmed when I grow up.

I reached out to him to find out a bit more about him, what got him interested in clothing and what some of his favorite pieces are.

Mitchell: Where do you live?

Ahmed Khalifa: Qatar

M: What do you do for work?

A: I am a developer, in the property business.

M: Have you always dressed in tailored clothing, or only recently?

A: Dressing up for work is a personal choice because I work privately. It depends on the occasion—sometimes I dress up for meetings. I have always been interested in tailored clothing, but I only found my proper style in 2016. Before, I was interested in classic menswear, but it was more about buying certain brands, not necessarily quality and fit like from a bespoke tailor.

M: What caused you to move from buying simply based on brands into choosing classic tailoring in bespoke?

A: Firstly is the fit, especially the back and the collar around the neck. It is more comfortable when it fits better. Secondly is the uniqueness of getting to choose your own fabrics and colors; I love that it’s specially made for me.

M: Who is your style icon?

A: I don’t have a particular style icon, but more of an era, which is the ‘40 and ‘50s for the classical style of people like Clark Gable and Cary Grant; I also love Steve McQueen’s casual wear. If I did have to choose an icon I would say Gianni Agnelli or Prince Charles, though honestly I get inspired by any well dressed gentlemen.

M: How would you describe your style?

A: I would consider my style a classic style with a modern twist. Like I said I have an interest in the look of the ‘50s, so I like to wear something like pleated high rise trousers with a turn up, but bring in a bit of a twist with modern colors and texture of fabrics.

M: What are your favorite shops, tailors and/or brands?

A: It’s very difficult to chose between tailors as they each have their own style, like how Neapolitan design differs from Florentine. As you can see on my Instagram I mention a lot of tailors, brands and stores. Some of my favorite brands include Anglo Italian, Spier and Mackay, Drake’s, No Man Walks Alone and Ring Jacket.

M: What are your 5 favorite pieces of clothing, and why?

A: To be honest I love everything I own! But if I had to choose I would say:

Pomella Napoli trousers in Fox Brothers cavalry twill

Polo camel coat by Anglo Italian (made to measure)

Palazi flannel suit by Giannluca X Fox Brothers, trouser by Pomello, jacket by Sartoria Ciro Zizolfi.

Raglan coat also by Sartoria Ciro Zizolfi

VBC double breasted suit by Sartoria Dalcoure.

#gallery-1 { margin: auto; } #gallery-1 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-1 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-1 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Pomella trousers in white Fox Bros. cavalry twill.

Polo coat in camel by Anglo-Italian.

Double breasted suit by Dalcuore.

Raglan coat by Zizolfi.

Suit in Fox Brothers Palazzi Flannel, jacket by Zizolfi, trousers by Pommella

M: What’s on your wish list of clothing that you want to acquire next?

A: Next I’d like to get:

A double breasted made to measure suit in midnight chalk stripe flannel by Fox Brothers heritage

A double breasted linen summer suit

A summer safari jacket

M: What’s your go-to outfit, the one you tend to put on over and over again whenever you want to look your best?

A: Mid-grey Anglo-Italian flannel trousers (or any of my Pomella trousers) with a Luca Avitabile “Friday polo” (or maybe a nice Davino shirt) and a Ciro Zizolfi jacket.

M: Your bio mentions you love watches. Of the ones you own, which are your favorites?

A: My favorite watches include Vacheron Constantin 1955 ultra thin, the Jaeger LeCoultre Reverso (1930’s), and my A.Lange Söhne Saxonia

#gallery-2 { margin: auto; } #gallery-2 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-2 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-2 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Vacheron Constantin ultra-thin.

Jaeger le Couture Reverso.

A.Lange Söhne.

M: And what watches would you still like to acquire?

A: I would like to acquire the Patek Philippe 5140P and a JLC ultra thin.

M: Do you pick your watch based on your outfit, or pick a watch first and choose what else to wear?

A: I don’t exactly chose my watch based on my outfit. Since I tend to dress classically, I wear classic watches rather than sporty ones.

M: What about shoes, which you also mention in your bio? Which are your favorites?

A: One of my all-time favorites are the Edward Green Dover on the 606 last in brown suede. They are my go to. I also love the Saint Crispin Oxford on the classic last in snuff suede.

M: Do you pick your shoes first, or your outfit first, when getting dressed?

A: It depends on my mood—sometimes it starts with the shoes, and other times it starts with the shirt or even the trousers.

Many thanks to Ahmed for taking the timehs to answer my questions, and to Charlie for letting me use his outstanding photos of Ahmed from Pitti!

(Help support this site! If you buy stuff through my links, your clicks and purchases earn me a commission from many of the retailers I feature, and it helps me sustain this site—as well as my menswear habit ;-) Thanks!)

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letterboxd · 5 years

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TIFF Premieres.

We reveal the highest-rated world premieres at Toronto, and unpack the Letterboxd reactions to the TIFF People’s Choice winner, Jojo Rabbit.

The ten highest-rated narrative feature films at TIFF this year were, in order: Parasite, Bacurau, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Marriage Story, The Lighthouse, Knives Out, Uncut Gems, Pain and Glory, Honey Boy and Jojo Rabbit.

Of those, only Knives Out and Jojo Rabbit had their world premieres at TIFF; the others have had the chance to climb the Letterboxd ranks over the past several months (with the exception of Marriage Story, which premiered at Venice, and Uncut Gems at Telluride).

But when we looked at the ten highest-rated narrative features based purely on TIFF world premiere status, that shook things up. We get some Midnight Madness, several local Canadian features, three women directors, and Riz Ahmed speaking both in English and American Sign Language. We made a list:

The top ten premieres at TIFF 2019 as ranked by the Letterboxd community.

Unpacking the People’s Choice winner

The Taika Waititi-directed Jojo Rabbit won TIFF’s coveted Grolsch People’s Choice award, a gong that often points directly to Oscar success, as outlined in this IndieWire explainer. The first runner-up was Noah Baumbach’s Marriage Story, and Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite claimed third spot.

We were at Jojo Rabbit’s world premiere screening, where the atmosphere was buoyant and the jokes landed just where Waititi intended (for most audience members, but we’ll get to that).

A still from Taika Waititi’s short film ‘Tama Tū’ (2005).

Considering Jojo Rabbit in the context of Waititi’s earlier films, it’s rewarding to see threads that run through his other work all tied together in this. War, and the ordinary people who get stuck in it, is a topic of fascination, from the silly humor juxtaposed against a tense waiting game in Tama Tū, his short about a small contingent of the 28th Māori Battalion fighting in Italy in World War Two, to the scene on the beach in Boy, where Boy, his brother and their wayward father Alamein play at “war” with sticks. (The name is no accident: El Alamein in Egypt was the site of the longest WWII campaign fought by New Zealand soldiers, including members of the Māori Battalion. It's telling that Alamein prefers to go by his Crazy Horses gang name, "Shogun".). Then there’s the epic finale of Hunt for the Wilderpeople, which literally involves the New Zealand Army.

Te Aho Eketone-Whitu, James Rolleston and Taika Waititi in ‘Boy’ (2010).

Children in sticky situations—usually caused by adults—is another common thread, whether they’ve been left to fend for themselves outside a rural pub (watch that one here), or lifted from the city and fostered out to a remote farm, or sent to a Nazi Youth boot camp. These are horror scenarios, but by focusing on the worlds and friendships that children create for themselves in these circumstances, Waititi invites us to see how ridiculous grown-ups are; often more childish than the children they’re supposed to be parenting. That stupid Terminator argument between Ricky Baker and Paula the child welfare officer in Hunt for the Wilderpeople; the “foolish sucka!” scene in Eagle vs. Shark; the debate over whose turn it is to do the bloody dishes in What We Do in the Shadows.

A still from Taika Waititi’s short film ‘Two Cars, One Night’ (2003).

Colonialism and its consequences sit heavily beneath all of Waititi’s work, even Thor: Ragnarok, in its examination of the bloody history of Asgard, the events that precipitate a refugee crisis, and what it means to lose your land, and your people. Absent parents—and the effects of yearning for father figures in particular—are common themes, too. This is true even when a parent is present. Witness Alamein's plea in Boy: “Can you stop calling me ‘dad’? It sounds weird.” And the slow transformation of Sam Neill's "man alone" Wilderpeople character.

Waititi said at the Jojo Rabbit premiere that the film is a love letter to solo mothers. This applies off-screen as much as on: his mother introduced him to Christine Leunens’ book Caging Skies, upon which the film is based, and his wife, producer Chelsea Winstanley, who spent many years as a solo mother, provided inspiration for the imaginary friend storyline. Finally, Jojo Rabbit is also an ode to freedom, especially the freedom of one’s own mind in the face of inappropriate heroes and dangerous ideologies.

One thing the Letterboxd reviews out of TIFF agree on: the brilliant young actors (Roman Griffin Davis as Jojo, Archie Yates as his best friend Yorkie, and Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie as Elsa). “One has to congratulate Waititi for his—once again—great casting. The child actors are a joy to watch,” writes Jesse, with Brock praising McKenzie in particular: “Thomasin McKenzie smashes it again, proving with this, and last year’s underseen masterpiece Leave No Trace, that she is one of the best young actresses working today.”

What’s more debatable, looking through the reviews, is Waititi’s command of the film’s tonal shifts. "This is stupid and smart at the same time and is made with a great big heart," writes Ella. “Some things happen that are so heartbreaking that it would be difficult to imagine how the film could go back into joke mode a mere two scenes later, but it does, and it works,” observes Justin. This was all a pleasant surprise to Matt, who writes: “I had no idea Waititi was capable of landing such diverse and effective tones while still keeping things (relatively) fun.”

“Taika’s skill is to masterfully weave humor, sweetness, the absurd and goofiness right alongside weightier issues and tragedy,” Jennifer elaborates. “He does it with such a deft hand that you might miss how incredibly talented he is. He is my modern day Frank Capra.”

Sam Rockwell, Scarlett Johansson and Roman Griffin Davis in ‘Jojo Rabbit’.

However, not everyone was charmed by Waititi’s style. Keith Uhlich took issue with the way the director “prefers to treat his audience like drooling cretins who need their hands held through every shift in tone, reassured that everything, even in a world off its axis, is going to work out”.

“Anti-intellectual nonsense,” writes Jesse. “Waititi claimed to have made this film in order to remember the horrors of nazi Germany and WWII, instead it joins the ranks of narratives that [revise] history… belittling them from their ideology.”

This was concerning to Awilmc: “I was shocked to read a number of negative reviews that said it glossed over the details of WWII… I mean… it was a satire and told through the perspective of a child who clearly wasn’t aware or, at the very least, did not fully understand the circumstances of the devastation and evil around him… Jojo was after all in every single scene.” Adds Karsten, “If there was a film that truly felt like it needed to happen in 2019, it was Jojo Rabbit.”

At several points in the film, characters note that, within the horrendous circumstances of war, people "did what they could". The same is true of Waititi, from whom nobody expects a straight-up drama. In what other movie would "Shitler" be portrayed with a shabby German accent by a Jewish-Māori from the South Pacific?

‘Jojo Rabbit’ is currently sitting at 3.9 out of 5 stars on Letterboxd; higher than any other aggregated score for the film. It opens in US cinemas October 18 and over subsequent months around the globe.

#letterboxd #taika waititi #jojo rabbit #peoples choice awards #tiff 2019

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marginalgloss · 5 years

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the shaded hollows

‘To persons standing alone on a hill during a clear midnight such as this, the roll of the world eastward is almost a palpable movement. The sensation may be caused by the panoramic glide of the stars past earthly objects, which is perceptible in a few minutes of stillness, or by the better outlook upon space that a hill affords, or by the wind, or by the solitude; but whatever be its origin, the impression of riding along is vivid and abiding. The poetry of motion is a phrase much in use, and to enjoy the epic form of that gratification it is necessary to stand on a hill at a small hour of the night, and, having first expanded with a sense of difference from the mass of civilised mankind, who are dreamwrapt and disregardful of all such proceedings at this time, long and quietly watch your stately progress through the stars. After such a nocturnal reconnoitre it is hard to get back to earth, and to believe that the consciousness of such majestic speeding is derived from a tiny human frame.’

I read another Thomas Hardy novel, not long after my first. I can’t be entirely sure why — I liked The Mayor of Casterbridge quite a bit, but it wasn’t the kind of book that instantly promotes its author to a top ranking in my mind. I think it might suffice to say that I enjoyed the feeling of reading it more than I thought it was an exceptional novel. I’ve now read Far From the Madding Crowd, however, which has probably cured me of my past notion, because I enjoyed it a good deal less.

The plot is, like most over-encumbered stories, best summarised quickly. Bathsheba Everdeen is a local woman who has come into the ownership of her own farm; Gabriel Oak is a well-read young shepherd with ambitions towards independence; Boldwood is a wealthy local farmer. After certain misunderstandings and outpourings a love triangle of sorts emerges between these three, and is interrupted by the shameless figure of Captain Troy, a dashing and not infrequently ridiculous officer in the army. Bathsheba falls for Troy, but he is cruel and stupid, and he has secrets that threaten to destroy them both.

It is a book of fine moments that barely cohere as a single narrative. I suppose it works best considered in the context of how it was originally published: as an episodic drama, not unlike a modern TV series. In that way the stark tonal shifts and shapeless plot seem to make a kind of sense. I don’t call it ‘shapeless’ only to denigrate it — I mean it only in the sense that it has no direction, drive, or symmetry. It wanders; there is no hero and heroine, really, and there is certainly no quest, no particular beginning or end to the tale told here. It might end with a marriage but it is hardly a romantic one, even though this book is somehow celebrated as a love story.

A certain sense of plotlessness, or pointlessness, is certainly part of the point, as when Captain Troy comes to realise that he is perhaps not the protagonist of his own life:

‘He had not minded the peculiarities of his birth, the vicissitudes of his life, the meteor-like uncertainty of all that related to him, because these appertained to the hero of his story, without whom there would have been no story at all for him; and it seemed to be only in the nature of things that matters would right themselves at some proper date and wind up well. This very morning the illusion completed its disappearance, and, as it were, all of a sudden, Troy hated himself. The suddenness was probably more apparent than real. A coral reef which just comes short of the ocean surface is no more to the horizon than if it had never been begun, and the mere finishing stroke is what often appears to create an event which has long been potentially an accomplished thing.’

Some of this book is barely readable. It is too long, and the last fifth or so goes off the rails entirely. It is frequently boring: there are winding sections of dialogue here which add next to nothing to the story. Bathsheba is a compelling figure haunted by a dismal spectre of authorial misogyny, while Gabriel Oak’s goodness is creaking in its contrivance. He is allowed to be both worldly and wise, to be smart and self-sufficient, and to cap it all, a human being in need of affection; Bathsheba cannot have half as much as he without floundering, always hampered by some weakness conveniently assigned to her gender.

And yet there are moments of startling brilliance here. The gap between Hardy at his worst and at his best is perhaps greater than in any other author I know. His descriptive writing, whether it touches the consciousness of his characters or the landscape of Wessex, is frequently stunning. There’s a startling beauty in his throwaway lines, like the description of Bathsheba’s hair, ‘…black in the shaded hollows of its mass’. The range of his style is remarkable: at times he comes across as an early literary impressionist, at others an even earlier modernist. One could take a quirky little passage like this and transplant it directly into Ulysses with no adjusting:

‘We turn our attention to the left-hand characteristics; which were flatness in respect of the river, verticality in respect of the wall behind it, and darkness as to both. These features made up the mass. If anything could be darker than the sky, it was the wall, and if any thing could be gloomier than the wall it was the river beneath. The indistinct summit of the facade was notched and pronged by chimneys here and there, and upon its face were faintly signified the oblong shapes of windows, though only in the upper part. Below, down to the water's edge, the flat was unbroken by hole or projection.’

At times there is almost a surfeit of style. The omniscient narrator’s mannerisms are occasionally overbearing in their verbosity. The sudden dashes between high and low registers of language seem intended to mimic Shakespeare, in their quality of making a dramatic address to the reader that iterates as it explains. Sometimes this works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it is pleasantly droll, as when the narrator describes the fate of a dog who drove a quantity of sheep to their demise through over-enthusiastic chasing:

‘George’s son had done his work so thoroughly that he was considered too good a workman to live, and was, in fact, taken and tragically shot at twelve o'clock that same day—another instance of the untoward fate which so often attends dogs and other philosophers who follow out a train of reasoning to its logical conclusion, and attempt perfectly consistent conduct in a world made up so largely of compromise.’

Sometimes the only way to explain something is to really explain it, and so when Hardy puts on his lecturer’s hat and taps his lectern, you have to listen. The writing in the passage below is airy, abstracted, distant, and it could even be called emotionally detached by today’s standards, but the shape of the syllables and the cascading sub-clauses have a rhythm that suggests an intellect possessed by a greater music — precisely how Boldwood feels:

‘The great aids to idealisation in love were present here: occasional observation of her from a distance, and the absence of social intercourse with her—visual familiarity, oral strangeness. The smaller human elements were kept out of sight; the pettinesses that enter so largely into all earthly living and doing were disguised by the accident of lover and loved-one not being on visiting terms; and there was hardly awakened a thought in Boldwood that sorry household realities appertained to her, or that she, like all others, had moments of commonplace, when to be least plainly seen was to be most prettily remembered. Thus a mild sort of apotheosis took place in his fancy, whilst she still lived and breathed within his own horizon, a troubled creature like himself.’

And yet sometimes I still think Hardy is at his best when he hits you like a bullet:

‘When Bathsheba's figure shone upon the farmer's eyes it lighted him up as the moon lights up a great tower.’

#books #thomas hardy #far from the madding crowd

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candidateofloyalty · 4 years

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2019 Fic Retrospective

I saw a number of people doing this, and since I’m always up for talking about my own writing, I decided to imitate them. Admittedly, I’m a bit late, but since I didn’t have computer access for a decent part of this week I think it’s justified.

Apparently I wrote 55k words of fic this year? Given that I spent half the year out of the country, that is higher than I expected. I guess suddenly allowing a podcast to become my entire personality is a powerful motivator.

1/31

The Clock Strikes Midnight, Fire Emblem Echoes, 3.5k words

The prince is throwing a ball to find a spouse, and Faye just knows that this is her chance to make her dreams come true. There's no time for her to worry about the messenger who brought her the news, not when she can finally live out her fairytale.

My birthday gift for star, this time only posted one day after their birthday. Someday I will figure out this timing thing. They wanted a Cinderella AU, and as someone who read approximately 5 million fractured fairytale novels in high school, I had an immediate idea of where I wanted to take the plot. I’m pretty pleased with how this one came out, especially since I never actually played Echoes. It’s also one of my rare fics where the title isn’t a song lyric.

2/14

Sacred Simplicity, Dangan Ronpa, 900 words

Sakura and Aoi meet up for their weekly donut date, but Sakura's mind is elsewhere.

I can’t believe it took a fic exchange to get me to write Sakuraoi. The request was cute and I had a good time, though. I’m always a fan of the concept of Hope’s Peak practical exams. The whole premise of the franchise is that these kids have crazy skills, so let them use them.

3/3

My Fantasies from Long Ago, Persona 4, 5.2k words

While walking home from work, Yosuke is hit on the head by a mysterious cat-dog-thing. This is the least weird thing that happens to him over the course of the next 24 hours.

Apparently I had a lot of outside sources of inspiration this year. I guess that’s what all fanfic is, but even so. This AU is from kawaii-bunny-mel, and is ridiculously fun to write. This one sticks pretty close to the source material, since I intended it as an introduction to the AU. I wrote most of it on trains while cross-referencing the original episode. As it turns out, writing is much faster when you don’t have to worry about pacing or coming up with original events.

5/4

The Present You's Daydreams, Persona 4, 7.2k words

Yosuke's been doing magical girl temp work for about a month, and it's pretty much the best thing that's ever happened to him, even if it does mean having a weird bear roommate. Then Souji invites him to a party, and Yosuke has to face something even scarier than magical enemies: social interaction.

The second part of the BAPC AU, and the one where I went off and did my own thing. As much as I love the source material, I wanted to fit the rest of the IT in somewhere, and there are like 6 characters in the entirety of BAPC. Really, though, a significant amount of this fic was an excuse to have Yosuke use his customer-service voice on a dragon. I’d also meant for this to be the one where they got together, or at least showed mutual interest, and then Yosuke went and made things awkward. I don’t know what I expected. I got to write Hamuko being cryptic at Souji, though, which was even better.

5/19

Dazzling Blue Sky on the Window, Persona 3, 3.9k words

After Erebus, Metis is prepared to vanish, but Igor suggests another option.

This one was my birthday present to myself. You might wonder what that means when all of my fic is incredibly self-indulgent to begin with, and the answer is merging two universes and saving my favorite minor character in the process. It was only after the fact that I realized how much projection was involved. It’s fine.

6/16

Bright-Eyed, Tireless One, The Adventure Zone, 2.2k words

Minerva is here, physically present, and Duck's so glad to see her. The only question is what to do with her. They've got enough people hidden in the Amnesty Lodge basement as it is. (Immediately post Episode 28)

I caught up to Amnesty right after episode 28 was released, which is what we in the writing business call good timing. I immediately wrote this in a haze of love for Minerva and have not thought about it since. I think episode 30 confirms it as canon, though.

7/8

Not So Nec-Romantic, Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun, 1.7k words

Nene's been studying to join the Healers' Guild for years, and it's finally time for her admissions test. It doesn't quite go as planned.

Star egged me on to write this and then wrote their own, funnier take on an RPG AU, which would have been rude if it weren’t for the fact that I got to read the better fic without having to write it. My favorite part of this fic is Mitsuba and Kou charging in from their epic fantasy quest without noticing that they’ve landing in the middle of a comedy of errors. I kind of want to write what they were actually up to but also it’s funnier this way.

8/25

Open Seas and Ways Of Life I've Forgotten, Friends at the Table, 3.5k words

Cass is adjusting just fine to life on their own, thank you.

They'd be doing even better if their new teammate wasn't so eerily reminiscent of their sibling, but that's all right. They're definitely coping.

And here we hit the fatt tipping point of my year. The Kingdom Game was probably the point where I fully devoted myself to this show, and a large part of that was the ability to conspiracy-board all of Sokrates’ influences on Cass’ personality. I have not stopped thinking about the Pelagios siblings since.

9/29

Not the Only Ones Pretending, Friends at the Table, 1.2k words

It sounds so nice, in theory. Mako's just running into an old friend while going out for fried chicken. But even though the Chime has broken up, two of them in the same place can still throw the simplest of missions into chaos.

I wrote this in an hour after listening to the penultimate episode of Counter/weight because the Orth-Mako scene ended right where things got good, to my mind. I just wanted to know more about how the Chime interacted after the timeskip. This also marks the start of me defaulting to Mako’s POV in every other Counter/weight fic I write.

10/14

A Magic That Won't Go Cold, Friends at the Table, 4.5k words

Jacqui doesn't normally like being sent on bodyguard jobs, but then, she's not normally working for Joypark darling Aria Joie.

I’ll just come up with a fun Jacria AU to think about in my spare time, I thought to myself. There’s a lot to explore with an Aria who never left Joypark. I can come up with some neat bullet points and it will be a good time. Then I started connecting the bullet points and at that point I had an entire outline for a fic. It’s what they deserve.

10/18

Questions Ricochet Like Broken Satellites, Friends at the Table, 2k words

Kobus' entire life had been pointless, but for once, they could see exactly what they needed to do. Then Vicuna pulled them out of Liberty and Grace.

I could not tell you why I latched onto Kobus so hard, but that didn’t stop me from doubling the size of their ao3 tag in a month. This fic ended up pretty depressing, which is ironic since the whole point was to give them a happier ending than they got in canon, but at least they’re alive at the end of it.

11/4

Detect My Sudden Existence on Your Sonar, Friends at the Table, 3.1k words

AuDy didn't intend for the rest of the Chime to move in with them. They didn't object when it happened, though.

I had a lot of trouble trying to write from AuDy’s perspective but I’m pleased with the end result. Maybe next I’ll figure out how to do pacing and/or tonal consistency. I do like the Cass stuff at the end but I think my favorite scene from this fic is everyone helping Aria unpack her stuff and being goofy.

11/11

Telling Dreams from One Another, Friends at the Table, 1.3k words

Mako shows up on Kobus' doorstep holding a Divine, and doesn't even have the decency to bring fried chicken.

This started because I kept thinking about how Kobus’ form of Ambition would have been Faith and how close that comes to Loyalty, and then the more I wrote the more I liked the dynamic between Kobus and the younger Makos. A lot of it can be summed up as Mako being the mid-twenties upperclassman who looks at the freshman and goes “oh look, a baby” much to the freshman’s annoyance, except instead of being in college they’re both secret agents raised as weapons since they can remember. It isn’t addressed in the fic but I imagine this ends with Kobus following Mako back to Kesh and ending up with eight identical older siblings.

11/24

Find Out What Broke Me Soon Enough, Friends at the Table, 1.9k words

Kobus is still reeling from their failed attack on Grace, but when Aria Joie asks for their help, they can't think of a good reason to refuse.

Continuing the theme of “what if Kobus had friends,” I like the idea of Aria being worried about Righteousness consuming her and going to the one person she knows of who’s successfully stepped away from a Divine. Like the last fic in the series, I tried very hard to give Kobus a happy ending and they categorically refused. As it turns out, when you’ve been raised to see yourself as a sacrifice for the greater good, it’s hard to find other ways to make a difference, and Aria doesn’t know them well enough to push it. One day I will find the right combination of characters and circumstances to let Kobus rest.

12/7

Take Our Time 'Cause It Feels Like We're Dying, Friends at the Table, 1.7k words

When Cass coughed up the first flower petal, all they could do was stare at it in disbelief.

Yes, I know, hanahaki. I am surprised at myself too. I was just thinking about what it would take to get me invested in hanahaki and because of who I am as a person my brain immediately applied that to Counter/weight. I know where I’m going with it but I want to finish F&M before continuing, so keep an eye out maybe in February. Also, doing this retrospective made me realize that this is the second time I’ve used a line from this song as a title for a Counter/weight fic. Whoops.

12/17

The Movements of My Mind, Friends at the Table, 1k words

On his way back to Auniq for the negotiations, Throndir stops by the cave where he met Kindrali.

My first non Counter/weight fatt fic, and once again it is introspection about a Dre character, because without realizing it I ended up with a favorite player. I just like coming up with in-universe explanations for things that were probably mistakes on their part, and I’m always interested in how the Kindrali connection works. Even if I am now incapable of thinking of Kindrali without going “I wonder what day he remembers??”

12/25

Fantasy and Microchips, Friends at the Table, 9.2k words

Five times Mako hacks things accidentally because of Cass, and one time it's intentional.

The year ended as it began, with me taking someone else’s AU and writing a fic about it. In this case, it’s a comic done by drowzydruzy on twitter. I looked at it, went “that’s pretty funny, maybe I could write a fic about it,” and then two chapters in I realized how to exploit it for angst and pretty much didn’t stop. The trickiest part so far has been making Rigor references without getting too heavy-handed. I’m halfway through writing the last chapter now, so naturally I’m procrastinating by doing this meme. It’s actually a meta-narrative about defeating Rigor by not being too beholden to your own projects, or something.

#ignore me #fic retrospective #this will only interest me but i had to talk about my thoughts on a kobus-mako relationship somewhere

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lord-of-some · 5 years

Text

The Demons Within Ch.1-3

This was it.

The straw that broke the camel’s back, and what an enormous straw pile was on the back of this camel.

And so, as it all became too much, I felt my control slipping and my vision was going fuzzy around the edges and I knew that I couldn’t hold it back for much longer.

I gave all I had to hold this back, and as the last of my effort drained out through the tips of my toes and the ends of my fingers,

I threw my head back and let the feeling wash over me,

And I relished in the feeling of giving up control,

As the tidal wave of relief finally washed my brain clean of my resistance, I knew that this is one feeling that I’d never be able to return from.

CH.1

They’d never been particularly remarkable in any meaningful way, they were the youngest of five children and so everything about them was either overshadowed by their siblings own achievements or ignored and written off as being a symptom of being the youngest child. That didn’t mean that they weren't a valued member of the family, and I’m sure I’d heard their parents tell them that, at some point, maybe.

But that wasn’t important, although it does explain how Johnathan’s family could go on without realising what was going on beneath what was visible. If there was one thing I’d known Johnathan to be good at, it was hiding things, and not just physical things, although those too, but John could do whatever he wanted and then talk both of our way out of it, despite this we kept our noses clean, most of the time, but seeing that gleam in his eye as I saw him constructing an argument as to where Mrs. Johnson’s apples had gone or spinning a blanket of tall tails so that Mr. Franklin would leave our parents out of it was something unearthly. He’d look whoever had the problem directly in the eyes and tell them exactly what they needed to hear to turn around and leave without even considering that their point may have had some merit. God, it was like John became a completely different person from the quiet, relaxed and rather shy boy that would ly in a field with my in the middle of the night to watch a meteor fly across the sky. I’ll never forget his reaction the day that I asked if he’d like to have dinner with me, with nothing but romantic intentions in mind, he started blushing so heavily that I was sure that he’d lose feeling in his toes and he got more flustered than I’d ever seen anyone get, particularly the ever-confidant-in-the-face-of-danger John that was now before me.

It was that night signaled a tonal shift within our relationship, suddenly we got used to lying in each other’s arms and holding hands as we walked through the aisles of the local supermarket, but what more can you expect of a rural town when your boyfriend loves holding your hand while you walk, and you happen to be a boy as well. We never cared, our displays of affection remained as open as ever and if anybody had a problem with it, John would relax his shoulders, drop my hand and walk over, and after a very small amount of time, they’d walk away and John would slip his hand back into mine and we’d get back to what we were doing. He had this energy about him that just seemed to cause people to relax, and I wasn’t immune to this. Not that he ever used that fact against anyone or for his own gain, apart from keeping us safe from other people.

As we got older we dreamed of moving out of the small town which we had spent our childhood in, and by the time we’d both turned twenty-one we were out of that place and on our way to our apartment in the not to distant city. I’ll never forget the way he looked, wind blowing through his hair as we were flying down the freeway singing along with songs that we barely knew without a care in the world. He looked truly happy in that moment.

Ch.2

Our apartment wasn’t huge, obviously two students couldn’t afford anything too extravagant, that’s not to say it was a dump. It was a two bedroom close enough to campus to ride, but not so close that we were surrounded by other students. John was completing a course in medicine and I was in the midst of a degree in symbology and the history of religions throughout the world, planning to head into academia at some point, but for now we were both working part time, him at a local cafe and me at a nearby supermarket. Our parents had assumed that the two bedrooms would be used by each of us, it didn’t matter if they didn’t know we’d taken on a roommate to cover some more of the rent, it let our own money go further and what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, if only I’d known what would happen later on.

Mitchel was a shut in, not that we minded, but we barely saw him and he always kept his door locked, so weren’t exactly on perfect terms with him, but he paid his portion of the living costs and didn’t eat any of my cereal. Something that I’m certain John is guilty of however I’m yet to find any proof of this fact. Occasionally I’d wonder what Mitchel was in his room all day, but ultimately I cast these thoughts away, it’s not like I ever expected to find out and figured that if he tried something violent them John and I could take him.

While university was underway John and I would go out, neither of us was particularly into partying, so it left us with plenty of time to visit all of the city sites in the dark of the night. On the full moon we spent the night lying on the perfect lawn of the park with the lake sprawling in front of us and as we were laying their he turned his head to be closer to my ear and quietly whispered “You know Jay, I love you”. I think at that point I just about died. My mind went blank and it took what felt like centuries before I was able to form coherent thoughts, and when I returned to myself and was able to understand what I was seeing I saw John standing above my looking rather worried. I shook my head clear and jumped up throwing my hands around him and held my head close to his ear before whispering back “John, I love you too”, this seemed to calm him down significantly. I think he thought that he’d broken me. Believe it or not, that was the first time we’d said that to each other in the few months since we’d been getting more, romantic.

That wasn’t the last time we laid by the lake, and certainly not the last time we said those words to each other.

Once winter descended upon the city we stayed inside more. That time was also the first time I noticed that some of my notes had gone missing, they weren’t relevant any more seeing as the course had moved on and they were from the previous semester, but it was odd none the less. I chalked it up to them being misplaced someone under the pile of my current notes and documents.

We found ourselves celebrating the mundane more so in winter than summer or spring, with more nights spent cuddling on the couch watching movies, and less time spent by the lake. We still went out for dinner, occasionally we’d go somewhere nice, nice not expensive, and enjoy each others presence out in public with good food and lovesick grins.

There were few things that I knew in this world, but I knew I loved John, that’s not to say that we were a perfect couple, we still fought. The worst fight we have ever had is still burned into my memory like a horrible scar that I knew would never be forgotten. You see, losing an argument or taking the blame for something I didn’t do are two things that I refuse to do, apparently John is the same.

Ch.3

I woke up one morning after returning from work well after midnight, it turns out the night before the fridge at work had broken down overnight and nobody had noticed until it was too late and most of refrigerated or frozen products were unsalvageable, turns out it takes a long time to completely clear out an entire stock of milk when the nearest skip is a five minute walk away and you have to do it all by hand. When I walked into the kitchen to make my morning coffee, I noticed that all my notes for my next assessment in a mere two days had disappeared from the kitchen table and I was furious, admittedly at the time I didn’t consider Mitchel at the time, but at that time I don't know what I was feeling behind the heavy curtain of sleep deprivation. Although now I can see that John would have had no use for them, but in my state of despair I called for the one person who I desperately wanted to see, and for some reason that to this day still eludes me, instead of throwing myself into his arms and breaking down, I pointed an accusatory finger at him and demanded that he tell me where he’d moved my notes.

To this day I still feel a pang of regret whenever I see a pointed finger. He threw his hands in the air claiming to not know where they’d gone. That didn’t stop me shouting the question over and over at him, each time he replied with “I didn’t touch them” or “ maybe you moved them” or something to that likeness. I felt myself breaking down, and then I saw a tear roll down his cheek and the reality of what I was doing set in. I started to walk over to him, intending to attempt to calm him, but once I began to move closer he turned and ran into our room. I couldn’t stay in the apartment. I left.

I left my boyfriend, the man I loved alone, crying in our room because I hurt him. I couldn’t blame that pain on a homophobic family member or the death of a pet, that was me. I had hurt him, and then I had left him. These thoughts chased each other around my conscience for god knows how long, but when I eventually returned to myself I felt a dampness covering every inch of me. It had begun to rain, and rather long ago considering how wet everything around me was. My toes had gone numb. I turned around and headed home.

I tried to enter our room when I got home, to apologise to John and attempt to comfort him if that was what he needed, but as it turns out, while the energy that was running through my veins had fermented into the bitter feeling of regret, leaving the tang of mistakes on my tongue, apparently his had hardened into the liquor that was anger, and rightfully so. I stood there as he unleashed it upon me, and once he had been able to calm down, he turned and walked back to our room, calm on the surface but I could see that beneath his skin the anger was still strong as ever,

That night I slept on the couch.

The next day we talked, I apologised, he apologised, I insisted that he had no reason to apologise, he insisted that he did, I apologised that I’d caused him to feel that way. We talked through what happened and I made new notes, it took all afternoon, but I finished with enough time to make something nice for dinner for John and I, we ate it on the couch in front of a ridiculous looking movie that neither of us had ever heard of.

That night I promised myself that whatever happened I would never allow myself to do that to him.

#gay #mlm #mxm #romance #love

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