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thereoncewereflwrs · 3 years

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in where i try to date a professor, and we never get to the point

A few years ago (in 2019, although we had known each other since 2015) I fell in love with my ex roommate in Brooklyn. He was, in fact, the total opposite of anyone I had ever had a remote or deep feeling towards prior to him: a white, Jewish, red curly haired, thin, freckly, trans man from upstate New York who had studied at the University of Chicago and knew fancy words in Russian. Regardless, or in spite of this great gap between my taste in men and his entire being, he had been the only man I had ever truly seen myself happy with. With him I learned new things about myself, words like ‘fat’ and ‘ugly;’ I learned that I was not a socialist because of its existing inability to reconcile the impact and affects of the industrial revolution; I learned I liked traveling with him and embarking in mindless and meaningless traditions in ways I had almost sworn myself off to. I had thought ‘well, I don’t ever want kids, but I’d raise his,’ or ‘I’ll never find a singular partner to spend the rest of my life with, but I don’t need that when I want to spend the rest of my life with my best friend anyways.’ Funny how it only takes one particular bundle of culminated cells to eradicate years of logical conclusions that have led you to the ideological and pragmatic decisions made. During a trip to New York that involved a very chaotic Passover dinner that led to an even more chaotic, and much more dangerous, outing in the middle of Manhattan at a lesbian dance club at 4 in the morning, I came to the realization that maybe the love I felt for him was beyond the kind one feels for friendship (up until this point I had convinced myself, and everyone around me, that I was living into the values of radical friendship....). On that trip I drunkenly confessed my newly realized feelings, clumsily putting together words the way a small child puts together lego blocks for the first time with sticky hands. That same trip his boyfriend gave me two books as a gift. I’ll never know why he did this, or what they really meant, but the awkwardness of the moment has stayed with me almost as if it happened yesterday.

Yesterday, in all actually, I scrambled through the piles of books in my small library and stumbled upon the selection of poems by Ocean Vuong that he had given me. As a general, personal rule I dislike poetry. Most often then not I don’t understand the different scraps of sentences cut and pasted together in strange formats to describe, what really? Hardly a plot, hardly a set of characters. A feeling, or sensation, or a set of things subjectively and rhythmically important but lacking in context or deeper development. Vuong is not the exception to this rule, but rather one that cleverly supports my self developed premise. Of course, my ex roommates boyfriend did not know any of this, and probably, he liked poetry and Ocean Vuong very much and thought it was a very nice gift indeed to give to his partners best friend (at the time). I feel inclined to say that Ocean Voung is a beyond amazing writer and I thoroughly enjoyed the few pages I did read of his novel “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous.” Anyways, I perused the pages on his poetry book with slight amusement. More then the words on the pages, I relived my ex best friends face as his partner handed me the gift, his expression as he described how annoyed he’d been by the uncalled gesture, and how intrusive he had found the entire affair. I imagined his laughter, his comments, how his silence felt like so much presence that it felt like being home. That’s what it was like to be with him: home, being my own, authentic home, and always having him to gently guide me to that conclusion over and over again.

The only pages that stood out from the book go as thus:

From ‘Night Sky with Exit Wounds’ by Ocean Voung, Part 1:

‘Tell me it was for the hunger

& nothing less. For hunger is to give

the body what it knows

it cannot keep. That this amber light

whittled down by another war

is all that pins my hand to your chest.’

A few months ago, while driving up from South Florida after having picked up my mother from the airport, I confessed to her that I had been dating for the last 4 months, and had recently broken up with a Married Man. It had been the early hours of the dark night, and we had just passed the traffic infested city of Atlanta and were making our way through curved roads that led deeper into rural Georgia before it met Southern Tennessee. Tennessee was a new home away from an old home that had never been home to begin with. My anxiety came from the obvious places - a fear that she’d disapprove of my actions, that her judgement would lead to scrutinizing all my past decisions and actions until they became morally ambiguous to us both, and a fear of anger. More and more I think that in reality I feared seeing what I had been feeling all along: that I’d made a cliche joke of myself. Even through that haze, however, I could still feel the overriding, desperate sensation of being utterly heart-broken and sad. I had carried this feeling with me for the entirety of the 21 hour trip, and once the first words tripped over themselves to be heard, the watershed of memories and experiences flooded the car. It was both unbearable, like drowning, and overwhelmingly relieving, like being seen for the first time. Of course, this wasn’t the first time I’d told this story. But it had been the first time with my mother, and that, for some unrecognizable, instinctual reason, was different.

She held her tongue - an unusual practice for my mother - as I recounted event after event of the last 4 months. I was as honest as I could be: we’d met on tinder after my break up with my previous partner of almost a year, I had wanted to have casual sex, he had wanted more, and (I emphasized) I had not known he had been married at the time. More importantly (I *double* emphasized) when he did tell me, he had confessed that the marriage had been one of convenience. As a fellow immigrant, and as a person who had witnessed a few of these kinds of entanglements, I had cleared myself, in almost the same quickness as I draw breath, of the moral implications of the situation. “As long as you’re not *cheating*” I had muttered, and he had nodded emphatically, “I’m not.” His reassurance was short lived. Soon after that the realities of his “entanglement” became less clear, and more obvious. He had a 4 year old daughter, he had been married for several years (technically, more years then necessary), he couldn’t, as a matter of convenience and then as a practical, legal afterthought, tell his wife where he was or what he was doing (he was lying, that is). I knew very early on that he was indeed cheating on his wife, even if the beginnings of their relationship had started as a marriage of convenience. But by the time I came to that conclusion, it had felt too late, almost as if I had dug too deep into the ground and could now fight my way through mud and dirt until I asphyxiated, or enjoy the eternal rest that was promised.

Loving the Married Man (because yes, I had foolishly loved him) had not been like loving my ex best friend. Married Man’s love had been wide but shallow - not in the way that denotes a superficiality, but in the way that one sees on the surface of a lake small things grow fast and move away even faster - small tadpoles and water lilies, the creeping of little reptilian noses and little ducklings floating on by. It was the kind of love that felt strongest when we touched, as if my physiological sensory threatened to spill in words and phrases that put together sounded like ‘I love you,’ ‘please don’t hurt me,’ and ‘yes.’ Married Man was married, and therefor there had always been the foreshadowing of a great plot twist, one were he (very unoriginally, as to be expected from men) promised to leave his wife and start a life with me. I rejected this almost as much as I desperately and willingly fell into it. In the same breath taken to tell his lies, almost as if our tongues collided from the desperation of wanting to believe our own delusional narratives, I gave him everything I possibly had in me. My energy, my time, my body, even my money. His wife, you see, had been away for a few months, seeing family in Baltimore with their baby daughter, while he had stayed to work. I had known from the beginning that we weren’t going to end up together, I had righteously, almost superiorly, thought that I knew exactly where we were heading and therefor had control over the entire situation. He had persisted he loved me, didn’t want to lose me, didn’t want to see me with anyone else, needed me there, and that he was in fact preparing the divorce papers as we spoke. I upgraded my status from a casual fuck to his girlfriend, and shamelessly introduced him to my best friends (who, true to who we all are, did not judge but made room for my own dramas to unfold). It took me a while to see that I was a mistress playing the role of pretend-girlfriend. Even more, I was a clown donning on mistress attire.

I can understand, in subtle and in abruptly immediate ways the ‘hunger’ Vuong speaks of. Married Man did not create the conditions for this ‘hunger’ in me, it has always existed. Before Married Man there had been My Ex, and before My Ex there had been my Ex Best Friend, and before him there had been every other man I’d engaged with romantically and in a familial way.

I know this ‘hunger’ inside me craves what can only go right through me. I have stubbornly, recklessly and without analysis, allowed myself to feed it with emptiness disguised as bountifulness. I have sat myself in a table that is all together wrong for me, in a chair that has been made too small for my thick thighs and bulbous belly, looked up at faces that have not smiled back, and taken a bite of food that has not been prepared with love, not really. This is no ones fault. I do not remove myself from accountability by saying this. What I did in a lot of ways can be considered hurtful, immoral, disdainful, distasteful, etc,. I also know that I am learning, still always learning, and need to be graceful and gentle with myself. Today, through a configuration of thoughts, I have realized I have been feeding my body meals foreign to me and my well being. And that I must now learn, or re-learn by tapping into what I hope is some collective, ancestral knowledge, how to make the meals that will nourish and settle in me forever.

From ‘Night Sky with Exit Wounds’ by Ocean Voung, Part 2:

‘I wanted to disappear - so I opened the door to a stranger’s car. He was divorced. He was sobbing into his hands (hands that tasted like rust). The pink breast-cancer ribbon on his key chain swayed in the ignition. Don’t we touch each other just to prove we are still here? I was still here once. The moon, distant & flickering, trapped itself in beads of sweat on my neck. I let the fog spill through the cracked window & cover my fangs. When I left, the Buick kept sitting there, a dumb bull in pasture, its eyes searing my shadow onto the side of the suburban houses. At home, I threw myself on the bed like a torch & watched the flames gnaw through my mother’s house until the sky appeared, bloodshot & massive. How I wanted to be that sky - to hold flight & fall at once.’

In October of 2020 I went on a date with a Professor from a State University. His profile on tinder promised 1 free joke if you matched with him, and I had casually indulged in the free entertainment. He had sent me 2, neither of which were funny, and instead had proceeded to insult me through a flurry of scattered presumptive discourse that I, true to my very nature, found anxiety inducing and oddly attractive. He had originally chosen to withhold his profession from me, having stated that he had “too many people under him” and wanted to keep the information hidden “for now.” I shrugged it off. I could trick myself into finding this level of secrecy mysterious, or I could see it for what it was, a waste of time as most tinder conversations tended to be. Through further indulgence he had confessed that he was a teachers assistant (here on by known only as the Professor) and was doing research on something or other in history (I really wish I could remember, but it was THAT obscure). I wanted to ask him what the impact and reasoning, and really, the justification he gave himself, was for embarking in studious, rigorous research and reading for a subject matter so far removed from our every day realities, especially during a pandemic and the mass murders of black and brown people at a national scale, but I kept silent. Instead we bantered a bit, exchanged ideas around Imposter Syndrome, and settled on an evening to see each other in where I’d drive to his apartment and he’d cook for me.

I wore my ‘date dress’ - a simple, black dress that hugged my torso and spread over my hips, tricking the eye into seeing less fat then there was on my body. I dressed this way not to obscure my fatness (although I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t sometimes don the dress in part because it had the added bonus of doing so) but because it was an easy ‘fuck’ dress. All I had to do, I knew by then from practice, was lift the skirt part and bring my underwear down. The efficiency of the dress, and how it made me feel, gave me confidence enough to walk into a complete strangers apartment and make casual conversation as if pretending to be old friends who were excited about catching up. This is always the pretext that is built. I pretend to be captured by the magic of his words - he being whoever he is - and ask question after question in the hopes of digging deeper into who the person really is. I didn’t really care that he was from Ethiopia or that his parents had been revolutionaries or that he was stressed about his profession although he got paid almost double what I did, but I didn’t *not* care either, which made all the difference. He had been the *presumably* smartest man I had talked to during my time in Tennessee, and I have always liked feeling like I knew less then the male partners I had. I had my period that day, but after a few awkward moments in where he asked to kiss me (I said no, then felt horribly guilty about it and relented), grabbed my boob, and had his dick out while still in the couch, he came. It was one of the few times I have had casual sex with someone where I didn’t finish. In a strange, almost methodical way, I could give men my attention, my emotional presence, my intellectual capacity, my dry or dorky humor, even my body willing or unwilling, but I found it unacceptable to not finish while having sex with a cis-hetero-male. For this alone I was vexed by the entire interaction, and after taking him to buy cigarettes at the near by gas station and back (he was a Professor without a car), and after he had reassured me that he liked me, that he had had a nice time and that he hoped to see me again, I made the 30 minute drive home. We texted sparingly after that. We tried to make plans but he always flaked, claiming to be too busy and stressed with work (I don’t disbelieve this) and apologizing profusely about it. Saturday, October 31st had been our last text exchange, until two days ago. There’s no reason to berate this long winded summary with the details of that conversation. Suffice it to say that he once again asked to meet up with me, and then today canceled with the familiar excuse of work and stress. I think about him now and write about him because it took everything in my power to not text him reassuring words, to not ease his expressed anxiety at potentially “wasting my time.” To not ease his turmoil of using me by sending him a song and being witty and casual. I have felt, in fact, that my time has been wasted. That he got way more out of the flimsy arrangement we had concocted, and that after having had sex with my hand and mouth, he had no longer felt a genuine interest in talking with me. Of course, he owes me nothing and I am not entitled to his time or presence. But all together this story feels too similar to the many random encounters one has with ‘fuck-boys’ in where they feign interest until they are sexually fulfilled and then suddenly no longer remember your name. I don’t type any of this with bitterness. At most, I feel a slight comical annoyance at him. More importantly, I feel things for and towards myself.

Where does this hunger that needs fulfilling come from? Where was its conception? It’s birth? I wonder if I’ll ever be good enough for myself.

As Nina Simone once said, “you’ve got to learn to leave the table when loves no longer being served.” Tables and chairs and foods and a hunger. That’s all I can think of today.

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 years

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Quick Thoughts on TRFTP Book 1 Chapter 16

• Remember how I dubbed the book The Royal Fast-Track Pregnancy last chapter? Well, yeah. That’s my title for this book from now on.

• If you don’t want to see these posts on your dash, here are the tags to block: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post.

• We’re now in the MC’s third trimester, celebrating her baby shower. Her in-laws show up, she gets gifts, she barely notices that her corgis have had puppies (but why am I surprised, this is the same MC who didn’t care enough about her corgi in Book 2 to notice he was with Liam to help with his proposal). And a couple of nosy royals come to visit.

• Over here in India, we do this ceremony around the 7th month, and it’s called different names in different places but with similar traditions and setups. Up North it’s called godhbharai (which literally means “filling the lap” - since the mother’s lap features prominently here as a symbol of maternal care, therefore the gifts are placed on a cloth over her lap - symbolizing her fulfillment once she reaches motherhood and the blessings she takes with her), and mostly fruits and sweets are placed on her lap as a blessing for prosperity and luck. You have games…but the mother isn’t exactly expected to participate in them - she’s the guest of honour, she sits and enjoys!

• She definitely isn’t there to submit to such a thorough interrogation of her political choices either!!

• The rest of the world treats a baby shower like a time for the mother-to-be to relax and be pampered within an inch of her life. Cordonia treats it as an opportunity for her to beat non-pregnant people at their version of egg-and-spoon and pass personality tests.

• Screenshots:

Hana: The Universal Studio 77 YouTube channel

Maxwell: The rash rec YouTube channel

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and The BizzysChoices YouTube channel

• Title: Great Expectations

Alternative Title: The State of My Bladder Is of Far More Importance Than Any of This Nonsense.

• Believe me, during your final months of pregnancy your bladder will be virtually non-existant (which is why you’re recommended kegel exercises early on). In medical terms they call this “urinary incontinence”, which is due to those muscles facing way more pressure than usual). At one point I recall joking about how we should add “The Bathroom” at the top of my home address, coz I was almost taking up permanent residence there 😐 I wouldn’t be worrying about politics and intrigue at a time like this, I’d be worrying about my kegels!

• Kiki doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to flex her diplomatic muscles in this story, but when she does, gosh does she deliver. Following her advice this time is what allows us to buy time for ourselves.

• Unfortunately that’s all the space PB will allow Kiara, we’re now back to our regular schedule of treating her like she doesn’t matter.

• Either Maxwell or Hana (in Maxwell’s playthrough) will lead us to the boutique to pick out an outfit.

• On a level of having more gold (therefore bling) than peach, that diamond option already wins. At least in the silhouette I can pretend the peach parts of this dress don’t exist. (I still wound up using the free peach outfit for my failplay of this chapter though)

• Me before meeting Hana: pls don’t make her wear that awful lbd again pls pls pls i beg

Me seeing Hana wear the silver one: …okay that’s not too bad. I’m just going to keep headcanoning this one as a gown though.

• Liam wears his official black tie outfit, Hana wears her silver dress, Maxwell wears his black suit and Drake his deep blue one.

• In everyone else’s playthrough besides Hana’s, she is the one in charge of this “planning committee”. Penelope is in charge of…throwing confetti, which annoys Olivia to end.

• Marguerite from THM steps forward with her good wishes, and asks us about the sex of the child - at which point the narrative lets us know that it’s tradition in Cordonia to not know until the delivery. Which makes sense, since we’ll probably be allowed to customize this in a different book? And in some countries (like mine, where it’s illegal to find out before delivery) there are really, really good reasons to not give anyone - especially the family - that information.

• We meet the rest of the royals: Eirik is as self-centered as he always was (either that or Khaan really desperately needs to make sure no one knows he’s that VR game developer from San Francisco who ran away from Eros), Lerato and Lesidi are cupcakes as always, and the Three Big Royals are shady as always.

• The good thing about the scene where Isabella tries to touch your belly is that it is established as out of line straightaway. You win or lose no points however you react, and while you’re expected to be diplomatic and impress them - the narrative is clear on how wrong Isabella is on doing this. And even if you don’t show a reaction, your LI most certainly will.

• PB is trying to convince me that Amalas has a better sense of boundaries, as if she didn’t stalk me in Texas and squeeze out every possible detail about my past life like an orange in a juicer. She only seems better because the Auvernese have all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

• Most of the LIs have lost a parent, but have a sibling (except for Hana, who is an only child with both parents living. Liam has lost both his parents, but has a stepmother in Regina so she fulfills that role here) - which means that in every case besides Hana’s, we see one parent and one sibling who has become a parent (optional, in Leo’s case).

- Liam: Regina and Leo (YOU EXIST! I WAS ALMOST CERTAIN PB FORGOT YOU WERE THERE). The two lightheartedly tease each other, which is phenomenal progress considering they were at each other’s throats in RoE! Leo comes to wish the MC in all playthroughs.

- Hana: Lorelai and Xinghai. Hana has sent them an invitation but wasn’t sure they’d make it, and depending on whether she is married or not their response varies. In the friendly playthrough, they respond positively but the focus is still very much on seeing the MC. In the romantic playthrough, however, Hana is allowed to show her nervousness and slight fear (how generous, PB!), reaches out to the MC for support, and the parents are tentative in their approach, with Xinghai even assuring Hana that they will cut short their stay if she wants them to. To which she confirms that she does indeed want them here. The two come to wish the MC in all playthroughs, as Leo does.

- Maxwell: Bartie Sr and Bertrand. Bartie Sr tops even King Eirik for self-centeredness (“make way for House Beaumont!”) and is…just plain weird in the way he greets the MC and his younger son (even Maxwell notices this, commenting that ol’ Bartie is “laying it on a little thick”). Bertrand is the more normal, sorted one, which is a sentence I thought I’d never say in this series. The team was pretty smart in how they scattered BertVannah between two LIs - Drake gets a visit from his sister, Maxwell gets a visit from his brother. Neither Bartie Sr nor Bertrand make an appearance in any other playthroughs which is just as well coz I saw PLENTY Bertrand for 7 whole chapters.

- Drake: Bianca and Savannah. Bianca asks the MC if Drake has been “pulling his weight around the house” while the MC has been “worrying about that baby” - nice to know she expects the same of her son as she did for her son-in-law (or perhaps a little less than what she expects of her son-in-law, considering Bertrand had to get back an entire saddle from the person she sold it to just so he could win her favour, after she allowed her sister to treat him like crap for his entire stay at her home). Savannah mercifully doesn’t get a lot of dialogue and merely compliments our glow. Savannah only appears in this playthrough, while her husband Bertrand only appears in Maxwell’s. Which is a good thing. I’ve had enough of that couple to last me a lifetime (sorry Bertrand). You see both Bianca and Savannah only in this playthrough, and I’m EXTREMELY relieved we don’t see Leona.

• It must be clear to anyone who has read all the playthroughs by now - only Leo, Lorelai and Xinghai make appearances across playthroughs, which could either be because they haven’t been shown at all in the books until now, or possibly because they may feature in Lythikos.

• Okay it’s egg and spoon time but with apples. This is Cordonia. It wouldn’t be anything but apples.

•

When you’re a new mom the last thing on your mind is grace and poise ok. Put really really simply and not in too much detail…your brain will feel more scrambled than scrambled eggs esp in the initial weeks, coz half the time you’re trying to make sense of your kid’s sleep schedule and the other half is your body just….feeling WEIRD (hormonal shifts, postpartum bleeding, and generally the overall effects of childbirth - whether it is vaginally or via C-section, both of which come with their own set of challenges). Your own sleep schedule is going to be all over the place and even after the kid starts sleeping all through the night, sometimes your brain has already been wired to wake you up at 2 AM or something. Your back is gonna hurt like a bitch. Your hair will become a hornet’s nest within the first two weeks coz what even is combing (okay, okay, that was probably just me 😅😅). And this is just when things go normally, okay.

You don’t need grace and poise to take care of a kid at this stage - you need stamina and a strong support system. Cordonia (I mean YOU, TRH team) you really need to talk to more pregnant people 🤦🏽‍♀

(on a more serious note…this is why I feel there needs to be more dialogue on parenthood. What it’s truly like and how it really feels, without the kind of fear that holds especially new parents back from admitting to their feelings about it. New parenthood with all its mess and stresses, its frustrations and confusions. No matter how prepared you are, no matter how much reading up you’ve done, there will always be something about that experience that will knock you sideways. I’ve learned that the less shame there is around admitting that parenthood can be messy, can be trial-and-error rather than perfectly executed every single time, can be imperfect, the better it is for everyone. And maybe this is a lesson that parents in some places have had the space to learn already - and that’s amazing - but there are a whole bunch of places where that’s not the case. And there is so much pressure to make it sound better, to convince people this is an easy happy journey even when it isn’t, or to believe that your well-being isn’t as important as that of your child, that many new parents don’t speak up…believing they’re the only ones who feel this way).

But I digress. I do know that “grace and poise” is expected of pregnant royals and even pregnant celebs. I do know that often they’re expected to step out looking picture perfect after having to battle lack of sleep and insane hormonal changes. They’re expected to have “fit bodies” just months after they’ve delivered. This happens in the real world. And the more we talk about it? The more we can help parents, esp new parents who might struggle more to articulate this experience.

• So…where was I? Oh right, grace and poise. In a race involving a spoon and an apple. A spoon and an apple. Excuse me while I facepalm🤦🏽‍♀

• My bladder would never survive this race in a real-life pregnancy situation, I just know it.

• Self-centered or not, at least Khaan-in-disguise points out the obvious: that everyone else has a physical edge over us. But Leo assures him that speed doesn’t help you in this game (does that make me the tortoise among a bunch of hares if I win? 🐰 🐰 🐢 🐰 🐰)

• Scarlett-Emerson-in-disguise is an angel coz she’s the only person apologizing for bumping into my bump.

• Now…if you bought the diamond scene where we drank wine with Isabella, you’d get intel about Bradfraud that could throw him off in the race:

Now…I really like this bit, okay. I like how thrown off he is that we know his secret. But I’m not entirely sure how wise of a decision it is to let him know so soon that we know, or whether it will bite us in the ass eventually. Could we have maybe waited for a better opportunity? Idk.

Anyway, so that definitely works. But IMO in a petty, inconsequential way that means little in the long run (or could be dangerous too idk). This is intel we could have saved for a better time.

• This is why it makes more sense for the MC to be told what Olivia (and possibly Liam) is investigating. Or at least for her to actually keep asking until one of them caves in and tells her. If she’d known about an Operation Swan maybe she wouldn’t openly goad him so easily (or maybe she would. It’s the MC after all).

• There’s a funny sequence in this where everyone falls on each other like ninepins. And another one where Olivia gets impatient and just throws her apple over to the finishing line, asking Kiara if she won and Kiki is like “non. You’re extremely disqualified.” Oh Kiki. Never change 😂

• ….exactly how large are these spoons. It’s an apple. That would cross over from spoon territory to ladle!

• Once the race is over, we’re back to our tables for lunch. The MC’s bump almost knocking a plate over sparks a conversation among the mothers in the table about their baby bumps, and then about labour. Lorelai in particular speaks about her delivery being “more…grueling than what I expected” but quickly assuring the now-nervous MC that once the child is placed in your arms it will all be worth it. That description could cover a whole range of experiences…from mildly stressful to extremely terrifying. I always hope it’s the former.

(I have another question though: so if Lorelai was so ecstatic over Hana’s birth, where and how during/after this euphoric period did Hana’s parents suddenly begin to feel “devastated” over not having a son then? Coz I distinctly recall Hana speaking about that in Book 1. Or is this another retcon?)

In any case…it’s nice to hear that at least for Hana’s sake.

• If you’re married to one of the guys, then it’s Hana who put together the tiny hors d'ouvres (“personally tested all the options for deliciousness and visual appeal!”). If you’re married to Hana, Madeleine is in charge of this part of the baby shower (“spent a week focus group taste-testing the sides for both aesthetic and delectability”). In any case, it’s all tiny food that’s too cute to eat.

•

…isn’t this the guy who constantly complained about tiny portions? Why wasn’t he just taking extra helpings then? (though he also still complains about food from another country looking like “abstract art”. First Hana’s meal in China, now this. No one cares for your uninformed, unwanted opinion on their cultural dishes, Drake. Good thing Maxwell shut that nonsense down immediately)

• Isabella and Bradshaw’s communications with us have always used strength, might, power as a central factor in their dealings with us. Amalas’ approach is no less insistent, but in a different direction. Culture, cuisine, these are the things that seem to stand out to me atm. If the Auvernese mindset reminds me somewhat of Lythikos and Olivia, the Monterisso one looks like it could bring to mind Castelserraillian, Kiara and her family, and Liam + Hana who are more inclined to explore art and culture.

• Everyone’s kid likes grapes, apparently.

• The dish Amalas presented for the guessing game is what they call a “Sweet Potato Surprise”, but you gotta admit the ‘mango’ option is the most entertaining 😆 (with the carrot option, she claims that she mentioned a root vegetable, which would be close enough)

• A pair of cute corgi puppies make their way to our table, and depending on whether you bought both adult corgis or not, the puppies are either theirs, or strays. Like…why are you paywalling the CHILDREN of two dogs if we actually bought the dogs. I could actually justify this level of greed if it were backed up by an equal amount of effort in the book overall, but it isn’t.

• Anyway, they only feature together, so you have to decide on two names that will fit in one space. It kind of reminds me of how they’ve drawn Merlin and Morgana - in one sprite. I’m guessing at some point there will be an option to allow Penelope to clothe them as well.

• Like most of the fandom has already said by now, Bastien and Mara can’t even be trusted with a pair of pups.

• If you don’t buy the pups, Penelope offers to have one of her friends “in the canine couture world” to adopt them.

• Here’s the parenting advice from all the in-laws!

Liam: Regina speaks of the importance of regulating sweet intake closer to bedtime which is true because a child on a sugar rush will transform into the Energizer Bunny and go on forever. Like, this is very much how a child on a sugar rush reacts to the notion of sleep:

Hana: This one seems to highlight Hana’s competitive nature, perfectionism and ambition, and I guess there could be a lesson there in that you need to give yourself time to grow into things you want to do, and that means allowing yourself the space to topple over or struggle once in a while, the space to make mistakes. But I doubt it because weren’t these the same people who deemed her a failure for things that were beyond her control??

Maxwell: Maxwell is sorta kinda called out in this one, both for being “peaceful looking” and for wrecking havoc with those House documents lol. I’m guessing Bartie Sr is here in our baby shower mostly to look suspicious. What exactly was in those House Documents, ol’ Bart?

Drake: Bianca gives us some age-old advice about sleeping while the baby sleeps, which is something my mother and aunt (who looked after me post-childbirth) swore by. They would insist I spent whatever time kiddo was sleeping to be when I got my shut-eye too, because if you don’t take that and pull an all-nighter feeding the child, it’s going to be near-impossible to function. But you really, really need to have lots of support around you during such times because that kind of schedule leaves you little to no time to do much else besides occasional eating, small routines and light exercise (thankfully the MC has staff and a strong support system who can help her). In this case Bianca quips that Savannah was the easy one, and Drake the really fussy one. Drake isn’t quite convinced (who are you kidding Drake you’re still fussy).

• You get two extra pieces of parenting advice from the rulers, pretty characteristic (at least in Auvernal’s case since we’re more familiar with their culture) of where they come from. Amalas’ is “know your baby’s moods, and you can spot a tantrum before it happens”. The Auvernese “pearls of wisdom” say “to show weakness is to admit defeat” - Jesus, these guys have lost already, then.

• Olivia now has plans for a dart playing game - where she plans to use her daggers instead. You can either refuse to join, or enthusiastically participate. The LI warns you to be careful in the second option.

• If you join in: Isabella and Amalas hit near-center, both claiming different things in the face of their defeat (Isabella claims Olivia’s dagger to be a “terribly balanced weapon”) and Amalas tries to throw Olivia off by claiming her “aim was off”. Both of them are clearly thrown off by the unfamiliar weapon. At this point Olivia counts on the MC to “show them what Cordonians are made of”. If you succeed, you get a glimpse of your LI going all John Mulaney on the foreign royals (“that’s my wife!”)

• If you don’t join in: the LI and the MC’s friends form a protective circle around her, and Olivia chooses to stick to the usual darts. Isabella and Amalas are both in their element, with tools they’re familiar with using on a dart board. Isabella’s is still just near the target, Olivia’s is even closer, and Amalas’ is the closest - almost knocking off Olivia’s dart.

• Either way, we’ve effectively pissed off Isabella who angrily asks for “best of two?” 🤭

• Time for presents!

• Uh oh. The rattle comes from Auvernal. And it’s the same rattle as the one on the book cover. Soooooo…what does that hint at? Will our hand be forced, somehow? And will we eventually have to make a secret pact with Monterisso to get out of it, since the narrative is really really trying to push Amalas as the better option? (maybe not, but it’s fun to theorize).

• I don’t trust Amalas but they clearly gave her the nicer gift (at least, a nicer explanation for her gift). It’s a blossom “from the oldest apple tree in Monterisso, a tree that Cordonia helped my people plant long ago”. She hints at a closeness that the countries shared way back and offers the gift as a way of asking if that could happen again. The story kind of reminds me of the Regatta one Liam told us in Book 1, where Cordonia helped its neighbours at sea with supplies, during a time when they were ravaged by storms.

• Eirik gives you a bust of his own head, Lerato and Lesidi give you glass bottles and Marguerite gives us money, which puzzles the LIs. (though culturally I’ve been accustomed to cash being given as gifts or even in blessing, esp by elders, and I know at least one or two other cultures where cash can be the norm for gifts too). Kiara confiscated Olivia’s gift which she argues would help with self-defence 🤭 which happens to be one of my favourite moments in this chapter, and reminds me of this post an artist made of the MC’s baby shower long back. Idk why everyone sleeps on Kiara’s sheer entertainment value coz that girl possesses it in droves.

•

From our in-laws, we get a gift for the nursery - a cot mobile to place above the baby’s crib. These things are incredibly useful in the initial few months of a baby’s life when their visual development, eye-hand coordination and control over head and neck muscles are just about beginning. (and it’s cute and fun. What’s not to like). Unfortunately…unlike the nursery itself and the crib, you don’t get a free option for the cot mobile. You get a royal and rustic option + plus a neutral one with stars that I liked, but you have to pay even for that lovely neutral one. I’m guessing that the first two things from our nursery were “essentials” and whatever else we get now will be considered additional perks, thus paywalling even the options that don’t fit into your “royal or rustic” theme.

Each of the in-laws refer to a local/Cordonian craftswoman who made cot mobiles for the LIs. Leo gleefully tells us that Liam’s had “sparkles for days”, Bianca teasingly acts secretive about Drake’s. Hana never even knew she had a mobile coz she hasn’t seen a lot of baby photos of herself (I’m not sure what it’s meant to be an indication of yet, but I’m taking note of it). The one that really puzzles me is Maxwell’s. The writers don’t bother telling us what Maxwell’s is and instead make the bizarre choice to tell us what Bertrand’s cot mobile was instead. Why…the hell…would a Maxwell stan be interested in THAT. The writers don’t even specify if it was a hand-me-down (why was a family that rich and titled giving their younger one hand-me-downs) - nope, somehow it was a better choice to let us know that Bertrand’s was “silver grapefruit spoons”.

They should have done this for Drake also then, no? Talk about Savannah’s mobile instead of his? But noooo, Drake is too important, right. So let’s have his mother act all coy about his but make sure the sequence still centered around him.

At this point the writers should just nip this entire series in the bud if they’re not going even to bother writing equally good romances for all the LIs. One decently-done romance route doesn’t a good romance book make.

• In the middle of all this, the LI calls the MC into the hedge maze, presenting her with their own gift - a deep blue baby blanket with gold embroidery. How very Cordonia of them xD

• It’s a cute free LI moment where they show you how much they appreciate you, even in the midst of all this chaos and pandering of nosy royals.

• Once we’re back, it’s time to see if we passed our little diplomacy exam with these guys. Depending on the points you have with them, they will either back down convinced that even a normal alliance would work with Cordonia, or they will pressurize you further.

• Interestingly enough in the failplay, Amalas’ responses seem to imply that she would have more open to the idea of simply an alliance with the rulers sans marriage, but you can’t tell yet whether this is the writers trying to indicate to us that she is the choice, or whether she just isn’t being as ham-fisted as the Auvernese are. They lack subtlety, she’s more persuasive, but is she still someone you can trust? Since we’ve only seen her like twice before this sequence, I can’t quite tell yet.

• Kdjhshshsjssj @ Liam confiscating Maxwell’s armory access pass.

• The sales of “that book about us that has Maxwell’s face on it” are fantastic, and the publishers want Maxwell to do a book tour, the first signing of which is in Lythikos.

• We’re in Lythikos…for a book tour. Not even because Olivia found some information there or whatever (though I’m sure that will come up at some point next chapter), we’re there for a book tour that could have been done ANYWHERE.

• Places we could be having this book signing:

- Ramsford: Yknow, the author’s birthplace which we haven’t bothered visiting since our first Beaumont Bash in Book 1.

- Castelserraillian: Yknow, like the seat of art and culture and literature in Cordonia?? If there is one place in all of Cordonia I could easily picture as a literary hub it would be this one.

- No Valtoria coz we’ve seen plenty of it.

- Applewood: Yknow, that place that has many farmers, lots of commoners, who doubtless would have read this story of a commoner woman who climbed the ranks into royalty and glory. Applewood even has a public library that Queen Eleanor and her son regularly supported and visited. I’m sure many of the commoners in Applewood would have found that story even a little inspiring.

- Hana’s mysterious Cordonian homeplace: Just because the team is whack and we deserved better. They could have really made an effort to show her other home somewhere, yknow, considering they did such an awful job of Shanghai the last time.

• At this point we’ve seen Lythikos more than we have seen any other estate in this story. Sure, we can all spout out all sorts of excuses for why - plot, intrigue, Olivia’s character development (work on your own female LI first, PB!), but it all comes back to the same point: that the team is more willing to rob Hana of her rightful space and place it on Olivia’s lap. Setting this in Lythikos is re about the fact that, now that Drake has had more than his fair share of space, it’s Olivia’s turn to fulfill the role of secondary character but be treated like a main (all while Hana is thrown in as their token female LI + default POC LI, but treated with far less respect from her writers than even a secondary character).

• Overall, this is meant to be a light chapter - which most Chapter 16s (except for Book 2) are. Chapter 16 tends to be sandwiched between intense sequences, and is often seen as the point where the group and the LIs and MC can have fun but relax from court intrigue as well. It was the Beaumont Bash in Book 1, Vegas in Book 3, now a baby shower in TRH Book 1.

• Hana meeting her parents again (especially on her own playthrough), was nice, I guess. A little extra time is spent during the cot mobile scene having her parents acknowledge how they’d failed her, and the narrative shows us glimpses of her nervousness and discomfort while having the parents state that if she would rather they leave, they will respect that. It’s a tiny bit more progress compared to all the times Lorelai was continually repeating her mistakes and thinking they could be fixed each time with a paltry apology. But it’s still not enough.

• For one, we have just 4 chapters left in a book where half the time we were pandering to Drake’s family for chapters on end. We’re 16 chapters too late in addressing this. I have zero faith that things will improve.

For another, Hana getting this type of validation from her parents isn’t something that should be restricted to the playthrough where she is married alone. In both cases she invited them along, so in both cases they should be showing an equal level of caring and tentetiveness.

For a third, the whole angle with her parents seems to have such a disconnect. It’s almost like the writers were trying to prove something but didn’t do enough work to make it all sound coherent. Like you have this somewhat-healing relationship, but even then you have these moments that just don’t seem to make sense within Hana’s narrative, like Lorelai giving you that generic answer about your feelings suddenly becoming positive the moment they place the baby in your arms (which, btw, doesn’t always happen), or Xinghai talking about Hana’s ambition but there’s hardly any indication of how they controlled the directions her ambition would take. Overall they all sound like nice sequences by themselves but very disconnected to Hana’s actual story.

Why Hana hasn’t seen many baby pictures is something I want to see more of. I’m hoping that the fact that we see Lorelai, Xinghai and Leo in all the playthroughs, means they may accompany us on the book tour and perhaps we will get Hana-centric flashbacks and Liam-centric ones too.

• With next week, we’ll have only three chapters left, the intrigue is still in its nascent stages, the pacing is grossly uneven, and most of the LIs still don’t have a clear-cut arc. Some may claim that, well, it’s a series so maybe everyone else will get their “arc” in the next book. Except that if that were the case, Drake’s playthrough shouldn’t have been having the kind of focus on family that it’s been having this entire book. Others may claim that, well, it’s okay coz the story is about the baby and the romance - but they didn’t exactly do any justice to either of those. So what was this whole book about then? Besides Walker worship?

• The holiday special for TRR…is this going to be in Lythikos? Again??? Isn’t it bad enough that I will be going into TRM foolishly hoping to see Castelserraillian to get fair rep but know I’ll be confronted with with the reality of duchies like Lythikos getting a lion’s share of the story??

• That’s it for this chapter, guys. Until Saturday!

#long post #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #the royal heir #king liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #trr kiara #olivia nevrakis #drake walker

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shardminds · 4 years

Note

Hey so since you just read Kiss Me, Judas, mind sharing some thoughts on it??? :D

SORRY, I HAD THIS ASK SAVED FOR SO LONG! i didn’t mean to leave you hanging!

i finished kiss me, judas and, honestly, what a fucking book. at first, i wasn’t too keen on the first-person narrative but as the story continues, and you realise how much of an unreliable narrator phineas actually is, it comes into itself so much better. the way he questions himself and his thoughts flit about from topic to topic gave me whiplash on more than one occasion.

baer’s lack of punctuation to indicate speech really annoyed me at first but really it plays into the whole mood of the reader not knowing what’s being said and what’s in phineas’s mind. there’s one part, on the train, when phineas is talking to jude but he’s also thinking some heavy shit on the side (but baer has formatted it to seem as though they’re having a conversation) but then jude says something along the lines of “oh dear, are you hearing voices again?” and it completely threw me.

it was at that moment i reconsidered everything i’d seen from phineas’s perspective and stopped trusting him as a storyteller.

the ending though! the ending! all that build up with the kidney and the heroin and the trip to el paso and whatever the fuck it was that happened in vegas. it was all for nothing! the inevitability of death comes for everyone in the end. doesn’t matter if there was a kidney in that box or a billion dollars, it would mean sweet fuck all to horatio. i was sad about henry though because i liked his contributions throughout, specifically in the final third of the book when he revealed his intentions (which were a lot purer than i’d anticipated!) and helped them to meet with gore.

the book also left me with so many questions! like what actually happened with lucy? what part of the boat story is the truth and what is phineas’s delusions. same with rose white. did isabel kill her and take her place in an attempt to get to phineas or is that just phineas’s paranoia jumping to conclusions? same with eve’s rape. eve knows it wasn’t a man that assaulted her, swears to phineas that it was a woman, and jude tells him it wasn’t her but do we trust her? was it isabel? who do we trust?

i’m gonna leave it a while before i jump in and read the next book but i enjoyed this one a lot more than i thought i would! the writing style isn’t my favourite but it fits with the tone of the character. it’s choppy and brittle and jumps around from topic to topic like it might break. it’s... an experience.

and, because it’s out there that colin will be playing phineas in the movie adaptation of kmj, here are a few things i’m hoping to see on screen:

the distortion of phineas trying to remember what happened the night jude took his kidney

phineas telling eve he’d drink her bathwater

when crumb gives phineas an ultrasound to check for drugs in his belly

the bowling alley bathroom with pooh

knife play sex

the scene where henry, jude, phineas and isabel are on the train drinking tequila

the fight between phineas and blister in vegas (along with opening the ice box to reveal what’s inside)

phineas getting new clothes in el paso while high as fuck and reminiscing his experiences with men.

the kiss with horatio

#kiss me judas #lillpon #shard ask

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kwrittink · 6 years

Text

Hidden Majesty (3)

Pairing: JEON JUNGKOOK X READER (Prince!JJK AU)

Genre: FLUFF

Warnings: Language (...yeah, that’s about it for now)

Words: 3,316

Part 1 Part 2 ----- Part 4 Part 5

The ride to the secluded place Yoongi had told them about was rather short; they reached the woods on the border of the village - which was one at the far end of the kingdom - before it started to snow lightly, just as the sky changed from dark purple to black. They all were quiet in a way, and wasn't for Taehyung's deep humming of a lullaby beside Y/N, the silence of the forest would have made her scream in agony.

- How are you holding up? - the calm voice of Namjoon puller her out of the doozing off state Y/N was in, and she smiled at the tall man.

- Not so bad. How long till we get there? - she asked, and Namjoon shrugged.

- Yoongi didn't told me a thing. But does he ever? - the knight quipped, and Y/N laughed softly. The baby was moving a lot that night, and she imagined it was because of the whole commotion.

- This one has been kicking my hands away from you a lot now. Seems like this child has the jealous nature of the father huh? - Jimin commented behind her, and she snorted.

- Oh, I haven't felt it kick yet, can I? Does it hurt you? - Namjoon asked, reaching out to softly place his hand on her swollen belly. Whenever they did that Y/N felt like crying, because all she could think about was how she'd like to see JungKook do that to her.

- No, it usually don't. But take it easy, your blessed hands may play some tricks today. - Y/N teased her friend, which made him roll his eyes. He was very known on his clumsiness on ordinary situations, and more yet the cause of everything that was replaced on Y/N's shack those months to be broken. As she laughed, the baby took that moment to kick her, and Namjoon jerked his hands away, amused

- Shit this one is strong! I'm going to have to teach him some fighting moves thought. - Namjoon whispered loudly, grinning so hard it made his dimples appear. Jimin snickered behind Y/N, muttering something about being better if he just stood away from the baby.

- Alright now, we're getting near. Don't get scared with anything you see, it all has an explanation. - Yoongi's voice sounded louder above the silence, and it served to startle them all at once.

Y/N wondered what he was about, while clutching her chest as she recovered from the fright. She wasn't sure, but if they were in escape and hiding, Yoongi shouldn't be talking so loudly.

- Yoongi, where are we? - Hoseok asked concerned, voicing the thoughts on the rest of the bunch.

- Oh is this... - Taehyung started, and Y/N saw the spy turn to the Archer with a grin, as he cut open his way through a thick curtain of leaves, making a path to somewhere.

- Yeah. Is that place, the village we nearly died on. But did you know it is actually a Kingdom? - Yoongi said, and they all remained silent while walking inside. Yoongi has so much to explain I'm actually getting a headache just in fear of listening. Y/N sighed, looking around the well lit stone path where they found themselves on, which lead to what she tried to make out as a mirage of a castle.

- What on earth... - she asked herself, and heard Jimin scoff in disbelief.

- So... We're invading a kingdom? You made us avoid the Queen's guard so we could be arrested by this other ones? - Hoseok was to start scolding him, and Y/N wondered if he was scared, mainly because all of this wasn't planned by him or he didn't had any knowledge of what was going on. Since he's second in command, he might feel a little uncomfortable without having some control on the situation.

- Well, why would we get in trouble in this kingdom, once we're friends with the Queen herself? - Yoongi stated, suddenly turning with his horse, and they all stopped in a halt, watching bewildered as Yoongi bowed to Y/N.

- Wait, what?! - she shouted, frowning surprised. Is he... What does he mean by me being Queen?

- What exactly is this commotion, my father? - JungKook asked, walking inside of the King's common room, still tying his robe around himself.

- JungKook my son, where have you been, why are you in such clothes? - his mother was the one to talk first. He dismissed her questions - he had just walked Yoona to her bedroom after a long night on the library and was just preparing to sleep himself when a guard warned of his parents discussion - as he walked to his father, seeing he had a very displeased expression on.

- I was just inquiring your mother, the Queen, about her orders to her... No, our troops to search for a mere commoner! - he exclaimed, voice hard but not yelling at all. That was something JungKook admired, but feared on his father, the way he made his words heard without elevating his voice. That is, by all but my mother.

- I've told you my King, I sent a small group, of the men that were sent with me on the occasion of our marriage, to search for a maid which stole two diamond rings that could buy her a small castle! - she explained, and the King perhaps never looked so enraged in his life as he stood, walking up to her.

- Then I presume you have at least the name of such woman, that made you act so desperately without my knowledge, spread panic into the villages and make me look like a fool? - the King's face was red, almost purpleish, and maybe JungKook would be a little bit more worried, if his mother's answer didn't interested him so much at the moment. There's something wrong with this, I don't really like it...

- I only have a surname, Tantalas... - the Queen muttered, looking to the ground, signaling she was sorry. JungKook wondered why did that surname sounded so familiar. The King exploded into laughter after a few seconds, and his son frowned, wondering what had happened to him.

- Did you heard your mother, my son? - he barked another laugh, walking away and plopping again on the couch he was initially in. - Fooled by a woman with the name from a tale's Kingdom! Might as well go on a search for their cousins Humpty Dumpty! - the King laughed, but the Queen didn't looked like she was happy to have provided such amusement to her husband.

The tale of Tantalas... My tutor had told me about that, but he taught me like it was something that had really happened... JungKook pondered, and deciding to leave his parents to their discussion, he hurried back to the library, wanting to search for a specific book, that he hadn't touched in ages.

- Prince JungKook! - the little voice of Yoona startled him to no end, when the heavy wood door banged against the wall. She was back to the same spot where they had spent several hours quietly exploring the gigantic shelves, hundreds of books in huge rows, surrounded by books of diverse themes.

- Oh it's you, Yoona! Damn you surprised me. What are you still doing up? - he asked the girl, walking up to her as she got up and did a small measure. She was wearing her nightgown, only covered by a cover - the one in her bed, he assumed -, and barefoot.

- I'm sorry, my prince but I just couldn't sleep... I had to read a little bit more and - she looked just about to sob, and JungKook was quick to put his hands in front of him, signaling he was okay with that.

- No, it's okay I... Well, since you're here, you can help me search for a book, I need to find an old tale. - he smiled lightly at her, which perked up at the mention of a book search. The hours that they had spent there made him notice the little princess was really avid to read and learn, but mostly, was thirsty for an adventure of some sorts. Makes me wonder if... If Y/N was like that when younger... No, I betn she was the type of kid to make her own adventures. With that wit and genious of her, I can only imagine what troubles she had got herself on... JungKook snickered to himself.

- Hm, if you don't mind me asking, prince JungKook, do you know the name of the book we're searching? - Yoona brought him out of his thoughts, and he whipped to meet her curious eyes. She was endearing, looked so small and fragile that made him feel some kind of way. Not like love of some sorts, but maybe... Well right now, Yonna definitely feels like a little sister.

- If I'm not mistaken little princess, - he began, seeing how her cheeks blushed from being called like that, but mostly because it was annoying to her, and he wanted to see Yoona react in another way than just putting on a fake smile and bowing - This book is called "Tales of Southern Kingdoms". I wanted to see the one called Tantalas, have you heard of it? - JungKook inquired, as she stared at him, thinking. He realized Yoona had an habit of biting her lip while doing so, something Y/N did often too, whenever she was concentrated on something.

- Well, I know about this, but from where I come, it isn't a tale. - she said, and JungKook frowned. There was another person who said that the narrative wasn't just that, but actually made part of History. Yoona must have seen his confused face, and chuckled. taking his hand, she asked him to follow her, since she had an idea where the book could be. The prince was surprised for a moment, but the same feeling of care and fraternity washed over him. The funniest thing is that this girl is supposed to be my wife, but I don't think we both don't have any will in fulfill those parts. He thought, smile fading out a bit when he was reminded of Yoongi's note.

- "... After such dreadful attack, the aunt of the Queen - which was sword fighting her own blood with fierce determination - ran away with the only child, a little girl which was the very next Empress of the Great Kingdom of Tantalas." - Taehyung's voice lowered as he finished, the silence downing on them as they sat in the grass.

- And here are the letters. Queen Gabrielle received these in her deathbed, to know her little baby was safe. - the couple of elders that recieved them on the gates of the castle said, and then handed the letters to Hoseok, while they all waited for him to read them. Y/N was still shocked with the whole place, which looked like a day hadn't passed since the previous Queen was alive. A kingdom reigned by Queens, not Kings...

- "I Anya report to our Queen Gabrielle, to say that Tantalas princess' is now on Alabaster's Kingdom, we are now in a sort of a shack provided by your friend Fae, the current..." - Hoseok's voice faded, and only then Y/N turned her eyes back from the royal guidon - it had a wolf and a rose etched, and for some reason she felt like she had seen it before - to look at the knight that seemed to shiver a bit as he swallowed dryly.

- What is it? "The current" wh- Y/N was about to ask, but then his words sank in. Fae... It can't be, the Queen?!

- You mean the Queen?! - Jimin exclaimed, voice filled with the same surprise of them all but Yoongi, that sighed tiredly, picking the letters from his teammate's hands.

- Yes, but that's not really the important issue right now. Aren't you curious to know who that child was? - he asked almost impatient, searching through the papers the exact one he wanted them to read. Once he did, he handed it directly to Y/N, which gripped it with trembling hands.

- Yoongi, I have a feeling you know too much already, and I don't really know if I like it... - Y/N admitted, making the spy snicker.

- Well, I'm telling all this from the middle but believe me, his is pressing matters. The rest of the explanation comes later. - he spoke, and Y/N swallowed dryly. She trusted him blindly, as well as he others, but that didn't made her any less scared. - "I Anya report to our Queen Gabrielle... I heard that your Majesty's condition worsened. Your baby misses you, but the princess is strong as her mother." - Y/N stopped, gulping the growing lump on her throat. She looked around, from her friends, that were anxiously waiting her words, to the elder, which sported a soft smile towards her. Breathing out deeply, she then decided to continue.

- "Queen Fae was really gentle with us, provided us food and clothes, and she's the only one who knows from where we came, but advised us to get documents, just to avoid questioning, if... Anything were to happen. So today I'm not longer Anya in this kingdom Majesty, but Hani Tolouse, and our princess doesn't carry the Tantalas surname anymore - only the blood, and by the goddess this no one will spill it -, being now "adopted" as my child, so called Y/N. Y/N Tolouse." - as she finished speaking, the clear image of her aunt Hani came to her mind, the old woman in her last breaths making her swear that she'd find her path - her true path. Before I had no idea of what aunty Hani meant, but now...

- Y/N, correct me if I'm wrong but your surname is Tolouse, isn't it? - Seokjin asked her in a whisper. She turned her face to look at the oldest knight, and was to open her mouth to speak, but the next thing she ever saw was her world spiraling to black.

JungKook only listened as Yoona read the supposed tale of Tantalas to him. She had a beautiful voice, and so soft if almost made him fall asleep at some moments.

- Prince JungKook, I hope you're not bored, since you were the one searching for this story... - the princess sassed, and he snickered, shaking his head at her ways.

- Not at all, you have such a sweet voice... But then, what happened after the Rose Warrior ran away with the princess? - he asked, trying to understand why did his mother mentioned that tale.

- Well this isn't written in here, but I remember my tutor saying something about a Queen Fairy helping them hid when they got to the South Kingdom, and there the princess would be, till the day it was safe to go back to her Kingdom, and reign as the Queen. In resume, of course. She also had a beautiful name... Princess Y/N or something, I'm not sure. - the girl explained, and JungKook nodded slowly, the words sinking in and shocking him one at a time. This is too much of a coincidence. Princess Y/N?! But... Fairy Queen? What does it have to do with my mot...

- Queen Fae! That's it! Not fairy, Fae! You're amazing, Yoona thank you so much! - the realization hit the prince, and he got up, picking the girl up and twirling around with her, in an access of happiness. She squealed content, holding herself in his arms as he laughed.

But... Does that mean Y/N is the Tantalas princess?

- Well look what we have here, aren't you two lovely? - the voice of the Queen replaced the noise of laughter as it died down, and JungKook almost dropped the girl, surprised.

- Ah my Queen, I'm sorry I hope we weren't making too much noise... - Yoona reversed it a split second to the shy and submissive girl she was whenever there was other people around, and it only made JungKook realize how afraid of his mother she was. The Queen, on the other hand, looked very pleased at how much power she held over the little princess, as well as most of her people. But me and my father. JungKook thought, an old anger burning low within his chest.

- Not at all, I was just curious to what you two were up to, I really haven't seen you get long this well till now. - she said, her sweet voice making his skin crawl.

- We were just exploring the library, Yoona really likes books, and I wanted to show it around a bit. - JungKook stepped forward, trying to look anything but defiant as he touched the princess' shoulder, so she would stand straight. - But now I'm taking her to bed, it's late already. If you'd excuse us, mother. - he spoke, noticing the pleased expression of the Queen as she watched him grab Yoona's hand and walk with her towards the doors.

- Good night, you two. Sleep tight, little birds. - she seemed to almost singsong, and JungKook asked himself what was on his mothers mind, to be suddenly so sweet.

What does she thinks, that even after all this time I'd forget about the one who owns my heart?

- Prince JungKook, I have to thank you for the amazing afternoon. - Yoona brought him out of his thoughts once again, and he looked down, where she hugged his arm almost awkwardly. - I know you didn't really liked me at first, but I just wanted to thank you for getting along with me. It means a lot - she said, and JungKook wanted to kick himself in the face as he saw the sad expression she had on, even if she tried masking it with a smile. She has nothing to do with my situation, and I was being a prick to her. I was more childish than I ever claimed her to be.

- No, it's you that I have to thank, Yoona. And apologize. For being so stupid, you don't deserve this. - he patted her head as Yoona shed a silent tear. - You didn't wanted to be put in this situation as much as I did, and I failed to understand that. But now, we're here. And to be true, if not a friend, you can count on me as a brother. Since we're family anyways. - he scoffed, trying to be funny. Yoona sniffed once, then looking up to him with a smile.

- I guess you're right, prince. And well, to be honest, fraternal love would really suit us better. No offense but... I can't for the life of me see you as more than that. - she retorted, her spirits up high again. JungKook chuckled, ruffling her hair as he assured her no offense was taken.

They bid their goodnight to each other, and Yoona entered her room, doing a quick measure before closing the door. JungKook was supposed to go to his own chambers, but he had still an itching of curiosity on the whole Tantalas issue, so he decided to just go change into something more composed, because he'd be spending a lot of time there on the library, researching.

I'm going to get to the end of this. If my gut is right and Y/N has something to do with this, I'm going to find her.

#jeon jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #BTS jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #HIDDEN MAJESTY FC #jungkook x reader #jungkook/reader #jeon jungkook x reader

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fcllenflowers · 6 years

Text

Description: Progression drabble leading towards the climax of this arc (Finally xD). Lots of backstory here and Bibi experimenting with the first person narrative. Hope you enjoy!

Words: 3.352

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, mentions of child abuse, bullying, mild violence, smoking, drug use, racism, racist slur, misgendering, possible triggers within

‘The first years of my life I went to school, like other kids. The kids in my class didn’t pay me much mind. They left me alone and I did my thing, playing with my pens and bugs. The teachers ignored me in class, because I was a bad student. I couldn’t read and I was bad at writing words. My letters were too small or too big. My drawings were never on the classroom wall, the teachers took them to the special teacher, you know, the one bad students get after school. He always asked me stuff about my drawings.’

‘ My momma never came to parent meetings. The teachers stopped asking me t’a tell her after a while. They asked if m’ah pappa wanted t’a come, but I said he works a lot. The moms of other kids would point a’ me 'cus I smelled bad. They didn’t want their kids in the same school as me.

Around second grade a girl came close t’a me a day, her name is Sam. She was nice an’ very pretty. She sat next to me on the desk. I felt embarrassed, ‘cus I smelled bad. But she didn’t say anything ‘bout it. She helped me find the page on our reading book. I felt embarrassed, 'cus I couldn’t read. But she didn’t say anything about it...

The next days Sam joine me on the grass on breaks. I met bugs there. She liked bugs too and we met ‘em together. Sam had long hair, blonde, an’ very clean. She had nice clothes, a nice shirt wit’ a dog on it. I liked that shirt. She told me, on my birthday, I can do a party so she will give me a shirt like that for gift. I didn’t kno’ when my birthday was. She told me ‘cus I had ginger hair, it must be autumn. I said, maybe November.

Sam had other friends too. She was smart and pretty. Everyone wanted t’a be her friend. The other girls, tho, they didn’t like me very much. So one day, they came to the grass and they told her ‘Come play with us!’. Sam told them ‘We can play all together, on the grass. I like hunting bugs!’ The other girl made a face, she was disgusted. She said “Bugs are dirty...Come play with us on the playground!”

Sam looked at me and got up, then held her hand out for me. I reach to take it but, the girl said, “Wew, no, not you! We don’t want gypsies in the playground! You’re going to steal our lunch and get dirt on the swings!”

The other kids laughed. Sam looked at them and then a’ me. I don’t remember, but I don’t think I cried. I had heard my pappa’s boss call him a gypsy. I knew it was a bad thing to be called, something about my family I thought. The girl took Sam’s hand and pulled her along. “It smells bad.”, she pointed to me. “Come, let’s play hide and seek!”

I wanted to take her hand. I wanted to tell them I wash up twice a week sometimes even! I use the pool showers! I shampoo my hair! But Sam took her hand away and walked with them. She didn’t even look back a’ me.

For a week I’d run to the school bathrooms first thing in the morning. I’d get there earlier to wash my face in the sinks before other kids came. I thought, maybe if I did that she’d come back and play with me. I saved her the seat next to me in class...but she sat with another girl. And she never sat with me again.

It was the first time I felt it. That pain in the chest. I thought I was sick and stole some medicine from school doctor’s office. But it just made me sleep. I missed school for a few days. I lied to mom and ran off to the park nearby and hid on a tree. I didn’t want mom to know, I felt so embarrassed that I smelled bad! I tried to steal a perfume, but got caught. The officers let me go when they found out my dad was a gypsy. ‘You can’t deal with these people’, they whispered. ‘They don’t even have papers, the lot of ‘em.’

Things at school got worse in the third year. I was already 9, a grown man. The other boys had gotten taller too, though, and more angry. They liked pushing me around. If it was one of them, I’d push back. But more..I knew I couldn’t win. So I just sat there and took it, hoping they’d get bored if I didn’t react. Sometimes it worked.

That year wasn’t nice. But now I know the reason. Destiny was preparing me; shaping me to accept the first sign of Purpose.

One cloudy day I found a matchbox on my way home.

And everything changed. ‘

Seth had begun to notice those small changes in the way Steel acted around the other kids lately. It didn’t make much sense to him. For all he knew, they hated everyone in that school almost as much as he did; especially the popular groups, the ones that had outcasted kids like him and Martha that didn’t live in Barbie doll houses and lead perfect lives with their perpetually smiling American Dream family. It’d be a lie to say he hadn’t felt betrayed by that sudden change of action, but what bothered him more were those annoying voices in the back of his subconscious pointing out how suspicious Steel’s behavior was.

Especially after that one news report.

Recently, two of the girls from the popular cheerleading group had started to hang around Steel a lot. They said it was to use him as revenge for Robert, Martha’s old bully and nemesis, since Steel was a friend of Martha and someone Rob despised. Seth had reasons to doubt Steel was talking to them out of any reason other than vanity. Until recently, with those news reports...He’d started to think maybe the shift in Steel’s behavior was fueled by something other than just a sudden desire to be part of the popular group.

It was one of those days Mathilda would pester Steel after school, following the trio all the way up to the gateway and clinging to Steel with her giggles. Seth hated her long hair and her pretty smile and he wasn’t shy to admit he was jealous of her. She was much prettier and closer to earning the boy’s affections than he could ever be, after all. This time, however, Mathilda was becoming particularly persistent to drag Steel with her to smoke.

Steel’s initial response had been a dry ‘no’, but she kept pushing. Seth just wished he’d shove her off and get out of there already, honestly.

Mathilda insisted and grabbed Steel’s arm, a movement that should have earned her a nice slap across the face. But Steel barely turned around to glance at her. Even though he wasn’t very tall or particularly buff, he was obviously stronger than her and could shove her off across the schoolyard if he wanted to; Seth knew. He’d now been left to wonder why he didn’t, why he put up with the touch and didn’t even look uncomfortable.

Steel’s hands remained on Martha’s wheelchair, pushing it forward as he kept walking and ignoring both the girl latched to his arm and Martha’s confused glances.

“Come oooooon, Steel, show us the vape tricks! Please?!” Mat begged, leaning her head against his bicep. She looked like she had jumped out of an anime, with her little skirt and small, cute face laced by dyed orange bangs. Perfect words to describe her included ‘neko’ and ‘stereotype’. Steel finally pulled his arm away and opened his good eye just a slit.

“’K Imma show ‘ya if ‘ya promise t’a stop bein’ such’a cutie. ‘Might melt m’heart an’ all.” There was a small snicker. Mat faked a squeal and grabbed both her cheeks -they weren’t even pink, because the excitement was fake, just like anything else about her. Seth felt vomit crawling on the back of his throat. He was jealous and bitter, sure, but above all he was confused and angry. He wanted to push Mat aside and demand an explanation for this odd behavior. His hazel eyes turned to Martha, that was also watching with bewilderment. She didn’t seem angry, however, because despite all Martha wasn’t bitter towards anyone at the school.

Steel didn’t return the looks anymore, but closed his eye and let go of Martha’s wheelchair instead. The girl turned her wheels around to look at him and was about to say something, when Mat’s enthusiastic ‘bestie’, Tina, showed up. Tina was as skinny as a sixteen year old could get and always liked to show off her belly and the jewel around her belly button. Steel liked that jewel and had been inspired by the piercing to get one on himself. Of course, Tina had gotten in a shop, with sterilized equipment and a piercing specialist. Steel had gotten it for 2$ from a homeless man in an alley, with a knitting needle.

Tina grabbed Mat’s free arm and leaned on her shoulder, throwing Steel a playful glance and smile.

“Come oooon weed kid, we know you like showing off!”, she stretched her words and clicked her tongue, playfully poking Steel’s chest. The boy raised a thick brow slightly and looked to his hands before giving a small shrug.

“A’ight. You gots a vape?”, came the raspy response.

Seth’s eyes had gone wide by then and he took a few steps closer to Martha to whisper-yell a ‘what’s going on’ into her ear. The girl shrugged in confusion. Tina reached into the pocket of her baggy bomber jacket and pulled out an e-cig, full of vanilla scented liquid. She held it out between her forefinger and thumb with a smirk.

“Come with us in the back yard, if y’want this, baby~”

The lack of expression on Steel’s face made things pretty awkward for the two onlookers. But he finally nodded and muttered an “I’ll catch ‘ya later guys.” towards them before following the girls. Needless to say Seth already knew that he’d spend the rest of his day obsessing over this and cry himself to sleep. But he couldn’t really say any of this out loud. Martha turned her wheels around and set off, as if this situation wasn’t troubling her. Part of her was glad that Steel was being social. That’s a sign of a healthy psychological development, right? She wasn’t possessive, much unlike their other friend.

Worn out leather boots quietly followed the girls’ matching white sneakers to the back schoolyard. That was where all the cool kids hang out. Steel had been there before, once, to smoke weed with Seth. But he hadn’t liked it that much, hence why they never repeated the experience. The only ones there apart from him and the girls was Rob’s gang of seniors in the football team and a couple of their girlfriends that’d strayed off to gossip and smoke in a corner. All these kids had one thing in common; they were from middle-class or wealthy families and had nice clothes. They all followed the trend of 80s grunge, but compared to Steel’s outfit they suddenly looked like cheap rip offs. Steel carried the authenticity of a broke punk teen, because their pants hadn’t been bought torn, they’d just gotten ripped to shreds in some parts after countless falls and fights. Their plain white tee had stains on it that weren’t painted on, he just wore the same shirt all through the week and got it dirty. Their oversized leather jacket hadn’t been purposely and carefully scratched, it’d just gotten ripped in tree branches. They also wore a variety of different cheap jewellery including a fau golden chain around their neck and multiple rings on their fingers. All in all, these kids wanted to be outcasts. But Steel, a born and raised alien to society, desperately wanted to be like them.

Despite appearance being a key factor in most teenage relationships, his style didn’t earn him respect. If anything, the kids hated him even more for daring to attempt a cheap imitation and regarded him as poor and filthy. He was used to that. Save for the occasional misgendering, nothing about it bothered him much at this point.

The trio received various glances and glares as they made their way to the brick wall behind school. Steel leaned his back against it and stomped the bottom of his boot into the bricks. He stuffed both hands in his pockets, tugging the low-hanging jeans even lower despite the belt and stretching back slightly, stomach exposed as the white tee got pulled along with his shoulders. Tina stood opposite him while Mat approached from beside. The vape was handed to him and he worked it between his fingers before popping it in his mouth for a long drag. Tina and Mat had already sparked up conversation about the upcoming school football game. They were cheerleaders. Steel thought they were both very pretty despite having the iq of a broccoli- no, wait, maybe broccoli is actually smarter than them, he thought, while puffing out a thick cloud of pure white smoke. He started blowing a few rings and the girls seemed impressed already. Then he pushed his jaw forward a bit and blew the smoke up into his nostrils, recycling it before blowing it out. Mat clapped her hands squealing “Do the ghost inhale!”

Of course Rob’s gang was sending poisonous vibes from across the schoolyard. Rob was already pissed, because Steel for one belonged to the loser club and not in the backyard and for another, even though he’d been the one to break up with Mathilda, this didn’t mean some filthy sissy ‘boy’ was allowed to hit on her. His smoke tricks weren’t even impressive -though Rob didn’t know any vape tricks, because vape tricks were stupid and not his kind of thing. However, his pride had been insulted now so eventually he gave into impulse and stomped his way over there, followed by his little gang.

Those were football players, apart from two senior girls. Steel knew them by name but never talked to them, but they were big and bulky compared to him and could probably send him to the hospital. Regardless, he just kept doing his tricks without much care and Tina was the first to turn around and glare at the boys. A hand rested on her waist as she bent it to rest her weight on one leg.

“Ugh, what the fuck do you guys want here? Don’t you have a game to catch or whatever?”, she spat out. Steel noticed that an odd accent had suddenly appeared in her voice, like she was chewing bubblegum whilst talking, even though she wasn’t at that moment.

Rob was busy staring at Steel, who had his eyes closed so he wouldn’t return the glare anyway, and then to Mat. His voice was laced in bitterness and poison, though he didn’t sound angry, there was powerful malice in it aiming to wound Steel’s soul.

“Fuck, Mattie, didn’t know you’re a lesbian now.”

“Stop it Rob!”, Tina steps in. She grabs Rob’s arm only to be violently pushed back. Mat scoots from Steel’s side to grab her friend and hold her up. The opening is exploited by Rob’s friends, who instantly surround Steel and tower over him meaninglessly. The boy doesn’t move much, if anything he seems uninterested in the situation.

“Careful guys, she’s gonna steal your wallets.”, Rob laughs. His friends snort. Steel finally opens his eye just a bit and throws a lazy glance towards Rob. If he tries to move, his friends will surely grab him.

“Did you really think Mat would be interested in you? You’re not even a real boy. And we all kno’ how much she loves to suck dick.”

More laughter. Steel’s eye momentarily darted to Mat, who was sobbing now. Of course she couldn’t care less to help him. Maybe she seemed like Rob’s victim now, but Steel wasn’t stupid. He knew full well that she was at fault too, for leading him here, for using him to make Rob jealous, for dating an asshole like that to begin with, just to be cool and make a name for herself. She deserved this. He didn’t, but it was okay. It’d be worth it in the long run.

“What are you looking at shit scum? Why don’t you crawl back into your rathole and die? We don’t want gypsies here.”

At that Steel’s eye finally returned to Rob and he swallowed lightly, the corners of his lips flinching. His hands were now in his pockets, shoulders loose, relaxed. He didn’t seem alert, unlike the others, because he knew he didn’t have much to fear from them anyway. They’d just beat him up.

“Y’kno they say hate is jus’ love gon’ wrong, Robs. How’s yo’ momma, by the way?”

“Hold his arms.”

There wasn’t much of a resistance. The other boys were much larger than Steel anyway, but he didn’t put the merest effort to resist their hold. The first punch sunk straight into his stomach, forcing him to fold in two. He stumbled to the side, shoulders strained from the pull as Rob’s thugs held him up on his feet by force. The second punch spun his jaw around, he winced lightly and choked back a tear that threatened to emerge. It was pure reflex, however, because Steel wouldn’t lie if he confessed to feeling nothing at that moment. They felt absolutely empty of emotion, even as Rob got more violent and laughed at them, joined by his thugs soon after. At some point, after he’d been ridiculed for a few good solid minutes, Mat finally screamed something at Rob that Steel’s blurred senses barely caught onto. The boy pushed her aside but retreated soon after with a scoff.

The next thing he felt was his knees crush against the pavement and then Mat’s breath close to his cheek.

“Are you okay?”

A weak smile, a nod of the head. His jaw was bruised and stomach hurt like hell. He wanted to retch, but swallowed it along with his pride. It’d be worth it, in the long run. He was so close-

“Oh, Frisk, I’m so sorry! So sorry for dragging you into this mess...”

There it comes. The confession. Her voice is full of guilt, she’s crying softly. Steel’s hand reaches out to cup her wet cheek and brush some tears away with their thumb. Mat looks surprised by the compassion, the affection in his act.

“I’m so sorry, I’d do anything to mak-”

“Can I com’ see ‘ya tomorrow...at practice?”, they ask.

Mathilda’s eyes shine, glisten from both the tears and surprise. She bites her lower lip and whimpers, finally giving in and crushing her body against the boy’s with a loud wince.

“Yes! Of course...”, she’s shivering. She must have really felt bad for this, he thinks. In the momentary glance they shared, he saw something change in her expression. Steel’s one hand reluctantly rises to cup her back and squeeze her lightly against him. Unlike her, he feels no guilt whatsoever for what he’s about to do, what he’s planning. He thinks she probably feels guilty just because he made it sound like he’s more interested in her than getting beat up, just because it’s about her.

Does it matter if she feels bad now, anyway?

She’s going to be ash soon, like the lot of them.

#tw; child abuse mention #tw; child abuse #tw; bullying #tw; smoking #tw; possible triggers within #tw; long post #❁.: Can't spell reason without ARSON | MainVerse Arc :.❁#*Backstory*#tw; g slur #tw; racism #tw; racist slur #tw; pyromania #tw; misgendering

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lids-flutter-open · 7 years

Text

brideshead, after reading art of cruelty

Charles --if that really is his name, and if that really is what this is all about-- Is not handsome or rugged but he has a certain mass about the shoulders A certain curving volume just at the top of the belly The barest suggestion of pectorals on his scrawny chest. His hip-bones exist admirably underneath the ridiculous high Waistband of the period. He ought to stretch more, as you can see how he is tense around his neck The muscles stand out, kind of, but also the tendons. He wants God. He wants God, but it’s perverse how he wants him. He wants God in terms of wanting all the weights and trappings that have been affixed to God. He has a hint of the deep power of the natural, the ever-present, the cold stream or animal sweetness, but by the time he finds that Charles is in a well which he can’t climb out of. He stands ankle-deep. There is a floor That won’t give way. He goes and he paints in South America, but the warmth doesn’t touch him. All he wants is to be contained, to be embalmed, and so he contains and embalms what he sees in front of him. If there are ever hands which travel down Charles’s spine, they do not open him up but rather make him more tense and bent. Is there a terror in him? There is a terror in him. The walls of the church Charles admires are not things God made, but are stones piled up By hands rather recently In certain corners of England, with little runes on them which stop you from leaving or dreaming And which definitively stop you from getting really intimate with people you love. Not to say that getting intimate with people you love is possible Merely by taking apart all the different stones. Outside the well there are other things stopping you-- But if you can’t even get out of the well, well. Charles, in the well, finds his hands are always cold. He wants God sort of, but he also thinks he wants Everything to stay as it was and for revolutions to stop. He has the capacity to commit little acts of brutality In order to make revolutions stop, or slow. But if someone threatened the stability of the noble peasant’s perilous existence, what then? And does Charles like the underclass of non-rebellious laborers? Lunt? That part of Charles, that ability to serve with a gun in hand… Does that make him trade? Charles is not the kind to like Futurism. There are too many bodies? There are too many bodies belonging to men? He doesn’t actually like war, and he is in the end aware of his own deep distaste for violence But he likes-- I was going to say something trite here, but we press on. Sebastian pisses in Charles’s mouth. Wait, is that right? Is that how this would go? Sebastian pisses in Charles’s mouth. The most satisfying scenario I can think of. I am not sure That was ever who Sebastian was, But it’s nice to imagine Charles on his knees, in the large rich house, begging not for the strap Or the cane (Which are overindulged And don’t make a coherent picture anyway) But for Sebastian to urinate on him, down his face Maybe on the roof or in a bathtub or possibly as they are naked in the field. Charles’s face is taut with his cheekbones poking out, the outline of his skull and his wide dark eyes More enchanting than Sebastian’s features or face Even though as kids we were always more into Sebastian. Charles is the beauty submitting, unbeautiful. Charles is the pathetic boy To feed peaches and piss on. You know you could become him but also revel in watching his degradation and his love For the thing that isn’t a symbol of The thing he thinks it is a symbol of. His knees are bruised. Remember when you thought Brideshead was just about two boys imperiled by homophobia and then you were like a year older And were like Oh no but they’re rich white boys I am problematic Maurice is a better book Even though it is more naive and clumsy in its happy ending. Maurice is the movie you make your boyfriends watch in the part of your relationship where you feel deliriously happy and believe in true love and the promise of a utopia The part where you can put off the future or pretend that you can find revolution in just love Brideshead is what you are thinking about the rest of the time. It’s more of a faggoty piece of media for its sorrow and complication. Being a faggot is seeing the whole shape of the matrix of capitalism and the machine of death And not leaving Oh wow, that’s pretentious. Also can’t you be a faggot and a revolutionary? No, you can’t exactly. One destroys the other. I don’t know that faggots exist In Herland Or once Wittig is all done. Maybe this is a lexical error. Someone correct me, please. I don’t want to be a reactionary. There’s things this model doesn’t even deal with You get closer with Another Country and Rufus and all that? Do you have to go to France? You can’t leave even if you’re in France. So back to the scene with the piss. Cum isn’t really it. Cum’s involved, but cum doesnt convey the utter abandon with which this whole montage needs to be assembled. Somehow piss makes the longing Charles feels to be owned and completed by Sebastian more visceral. You crawl like a dog and are tense before your lover You love him and are cowed by him Rinsed by piss But more and more it is a choice to be cowed by him, there’s no real command or imperative And you crawl back into this largely imaginary container of obligation ever more desperately until you find it is no longer there and you are not needed And also are not even ruined, like you sort of hoped you would be And then you turn to God, because nobody is pissing on you any more and you think that through God you can get that really good sense back, of being owned and belonging. You spend the rest of your life hearing people whisper through windows at you. I guess that’s one way to get to God. Would it be as satisfying, this picture, if it were instead the main male characters from Women In Love? No. That’s because DH Lawrence thinks coal miners and plants are all sexy and objectified and phallic and doesn’t even really want God And probably likes Futurism And probably was actually into piss And like, I don’t know, they’re fascists. You just wish they’d both gotten bashed in the head with that geode or whatever by the woman in the first part of the book. With Brideshead it’s the more complicated Maggie Nelson thing about NUANCE. It is NUANCED because neither Charles or Sebastian is quite beyond the pale into the realm of evil even if they are annoying and flirt with evil and you would not like them in person. And the whole slave/master thing between those two awful men in Lawrence was already so baldly stated. All that wrestling, all those words about white octopi! Evelyn Waugh would be outwardly condescending about depravity and piss, Would deny the whole slave/master dynamic Would resist any sort of narrative about classes of men needing to reaffirm their position And if pissed on at any age I think Evelyn would be dismayed. That is why this is a fanfiction And why it is such a deeply satisfying one.

#brideshead revisited #piss/

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lethesomething · 7 years

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Let’s do a tag thing

Hello, hi, I was tagged by @littlecrow-headcanons. Thank you!

10 random facts about myself:

I own a cat bed shaped like a shark and it is my fondest purchase.

Technically, I was taught how to belly dance, though I only know like two moves.

Also on my list of weird skills: fencing and stage fencing, which are completely different. One entails very formally going backwards and forwards. With the other you get to swing from chandeliers while reciting witticisms (note: I have personally never swung from any chandeliers).

One time I got lost in a bog in Scotland and my friend and I spent the entire afternoon making morbid jokes about bog bodies. It is still one of my favourite adventure stories.

Just being in the presence of chocolate makes me want it, which is annoying because I live in Chocolate Country.

I’m a fairly polite and calm person, except when playing video games (at which point I scream barely coherent gibberish and also very coherent insults at my screen).

I have a hard time keeping plants alive.

Spiders freak me the hell out and I will throw cat treats at them (to summon the cat, not to, uh, bludgeon them with treats).

When desperate, I will eat Nutella from the jar with a spoon.

I wrote my graduating thesis on the meta narrative in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series. This topic was picked solely on the basis that it gave me an excuse to read a lot of Terry Pratchett.

5 OTPS/SHIPS:

Sousuke / Rin (Free) is the first ship that ever sailed for me and the reason I’m in this mess

Mustang / Hawkeye (Full Metal Alchemist)

Kuroo / Anyone (Haikyuu)

Bakugou / Kirishima / Kaminari (Boku no Hero Academia): This is entirely @franeridart ’s fault

Atsushi / Kyouka (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Birb’s 11 Questions:

One dish you know you can prepare no matter what? Pasta with some kind of tomato sauce. Mostly because I always have the basic ingredients in a pantry somewhere.

One musical artist you discovered in the past year?

youtube

One film you wish you could’ve starred in? And why? Lord of the Rings, because the whole thing feels like some kind of cosplay summer camp and it looks like it would have been a blast to be in it.

One quality you look for in close friends/partners? Loyalty: the willingness to accept who someone is and to really get to know them

One talent you wish you could have and one talent you’d offer to trade it for? What I want: casual conversation skill, like the ability to just go up to people, start a conversation and keep it going What you can have: I have an uncanny amount of spacial awareness when in cities. You can drop me in an unknown city and I’ll find my way, even without a map. This is a fairly useless skill, since most cities also have 4G.

One fictional character you’d take along on a road trip? I have a feeling taking Bokuto Koutaro anywhere would lead to Shenanigans and I’m down for that.

One person that really inspired you in your life? Can I say my mom? Probably my mom. She’s badass.

One fictional character you’d love to have over for dinner? Not to go all goth on you, but Neil Gaiman’s Death. Because she’s canonically a super fun and friendly person, and also she probably has a ton of cool stories to tell.

One fictional character you’d want to have as your partner in crime – literally? Chuuya Nakahara. If I’m going to become a gangster, I’m going all the way.

One thing you’d wish for if you saw a shooting star right now? This is gonna sound super sappy but I find it very hard to find someone that loves me in the same way, and at the same time, that I love them. That would be a handy thing.

One thing that is always in your bag/pocket? I literally have a life sustaining kit with me at all times: phone, flashlight, battery pack, basic medicines, water and some kind of cake/cookie.

My 11 questions

Which piece of fiction do you wish you’d written, and why?

Coffee or tea?

What’s your favourite game of all time and why?

If you could have any kind of hairdo, what would it be?

Your de-stress method of choice?

Favourite guilty pleasure? That book, film of album that you really love but kinda have to hide when the cool people come over?

Biggest anime crush?

Which dish or recipe do you wish you knew how to prepare flawlessly?

Chinese or western horoscope?

Is there a song that inspired you in life? If so which one?

Is there a historic figure you’d like to have coffee with? Who?

I’m tagging @leeva-z-kai, @bittersweetoranges and @mistersunshinesprinkles because I know they won’t mind. And @fangmich and @atsushihimuro because these people are all over my feed and I have no idea who they are but I’m intrigued.

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ashley-incharge · 4 years

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Being Real? | Ashroo

Ashley and Roo discuss plans for the future... [Dated: May 27th]

@littlemister-roo

ASHLEY:

Ashley did not want to see Roo again. Not after the last conversation they'd had. She had learned to process through it to some degree (she was having a boy, she knew she was having a boy), but it was still new. She had actually bought herself parenting books, books on baby boys and what they might need. Ashley was scared. She didn't want Roo to be right about her.

She made her way over to the park where they'd been meeting for these pictures, a hand resting protectively over her ever growing belly. It was starting to be at a point where she couldn't help but trace over the shape of it. It was a strange wonder, even when she felt like she was completely out of her element. As she wandered into the park, she caught sight of Roo, forcing herself to take a deep breath before she called out. "Hope you're ready to get a good shot of this."

Roo:

Look, Roo was not a fan of being around Ashley any more than absolutely necessary, but the truth was—he felt bad about their last conversation. Sort of. Kind of. Like, not for pointing out that it sounded like she was applying her crappy anti-boy narrative to their kid. He couldn't just sit back and let her go on like that, not if it was an attitude that could carry on into the baby's life.

Anyways, the point was, he felt bad for yelling at her. So when she'd texted him about the weekly photoshoot, he agreed to meet. He fidgeted as he waited for her to arrive, wondering what he might say. Sorry usually worked, but thought apologies might be seen as a sign of weakness with the Ashleys.

When she approached, he pasted on his usual smile, though it was a bit awkard and forced. "I'm a professional," he said, puffing out his chest with mock confidence. "I'm always ready."

Ashley:

Ashley couldn't help but snort. "You're a child, but sure." She could accept the help and get some pictures taken. "Make sure you get it properly. I feel like this week it's especially..." Well she didn't even know how to put it. While she knew every week she was gaining weight and the baby was growing, this week it felt like more of a jump. It felt sharper than it had before.

"Well whatever. Let's get this over with, I'm really hungry."

Roo:

Roo rolled his eyes. She was barely a year older than him, so it was kind of silly for her to insult him with a term that applied just as much to herself.

He looked her over, smiling a bit. The baby was definitely making himself known, it was kind of incredible, really. To know that his son was growing and seeming so healthy and strong. Not only that, but he had to admit, begrudgingly of course, that Ashley was...well? Glowing. Sort of. In a weird way. But he wasn't going to tell her that! She'd either bite his head of or let it go to her head, he honestly wasn't sure which was worse.

"Alright, lets do this," he replied with a nod, looking around and gesturing to an open shady spot. "How about over here? By this tree?"

Ashley:

Ashley hummed. "The tree will work I guess." She didn't care too much as long as it looked good. So far the pictures all turned out pretty good. She knew because she'd made sure to check them before she started putting them in the baby album she was putting together. And Ashley was definitely making an album.

"Do you feel like it's really starting to happen now?" She asked after an awkward pause, turning so he could get her side profile properly. "I just...it might just be me. And the feeling that I've eaten like a pig lately."

Roo:

They'd been doing this for a few weeks now and Roo was starting to get the hang of this photography thing. To him, it was an art and he wanted it to be good! Plus, ya know, it was for their son. And if he could get a head start at being a good dad, well, that was good, right?

"Hmm?" he hummed, gesturing for her to move her hand over her belly a bit and to turn into the light just a hair— "Oh, well, yeah? I mean, every time I see you, baby boy there seems to be getting bigger by the minute." He sighed, choosing to ignore the eating like a pig comment—he couldnt' think of anything to say that wouldn't either sound like brown nosing or get him killed. "But yeah, between that and us meeting up every week, its definitely feeling less like a crazy dream and more like 'oh crap this is really happening'."

He paused, wondering if he should just leave it at that. "But—how are you feeling? About it feeling more real, I mean?"

Ashley:

Ashley followed his instructions like a pro. What? She'd briefly considered modeling as a career path too. She'd done a few photoshoots with her girls. She knew how to pose when she wanted. "It does feel like he's getting bigger. I just...I think I can see it but I feel like it might be easier to see from an outside perspective." At least for now.

She knew the time was coming where she'd end up ballooning out. She hadn't reached that point yet. At least she didn't think so. "Oh...um. Well. I guess it hits me more that there's an actual person growing inside me you know?" Ashley laughed, though it was a sharp little thing. "I don't actually want to be a shitty mom. I think about what my mother must have been like when she was pregnant but I don't know...I can't picture her..." she paused, shaking her head at herself.

Why was she sharing this? What would that add to say that she couldn't picture her mother happy while she was pregnant with Ashley or her siblings. "Sorry. Does your mom talk to you about it?"

Roo:

Roo blinked, lowing the cell phone and half wondering if he was dreaming. Ashley was—being real? And honest? With him? It was surreal to say the least.

He regarded her a moment, his gaze softening just a bit. He'd always known there was more to Ashley than the mean bitch she presented to the word. He'd even suspected that even the way she was with her friends was and act, sort of. Like he knew she loved her friends but still had a reputation to maintain. But this person underneath all that who was hurt by her crappy parents—he saw her.

Clearing his throat and trying to shove the sudden rush overly affectionate feelings away, he replied, "Well, yeah. She does. But ya know, only like recently. I never thought to ask, you know? Until all this happened," he gestured between them, "I was just a dumb kid who took everything she had done for granted."

He paused, glancing away as he worried at his lip a moment before meeting her eye and saying quietly, "For what its worth—I don't think you'll be a shitty mom. I think you care too much to be that."

Ashley:

Ashley couldn't help but snort, though she also didn't blame him for that. Ashley had never asked her mother about that sort of thing either. Then again, even if she had the questions, the woman had never been around to answer them. She didn't have the same space to do that that Roo did.

"Yeah I get it. That's what kids do in general. Leech off the financial and emotional support of their parents." Her lips curled up into a slight smile, though it faded just as quickly at Roo's words. Ashley wasn't sure she believed him. He was the one who said she was fucked up and that she wouldn't love her son enough.

She glanced down at her stomach, a hand tracing over it as she'd been starting to do lately every time she was uneasy. It helped soothe her a little. "You sure about that? You were pretty convinced I was the world's most fucked up mom last week."

Roo:

Oof. Yeah. It was true. Roo had been pretty harsh after the appointment last week. He'd allowed himself to get upset and well, as with any involving opposing Ashley's opinion on anything, had become a chaotic mess, fast.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he replied carefully, crossing his arms. "I—well, to be fair, I was really only trying to point out how hurtful what you were saying might be to our kid if he could hear you in that moment. But I don't think that one mistake defines you. If you say you want to be a good mom, I, well? I believe you."

He sighed, looking away and running an awkward hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, by the way. I should have given you space to think instead of—whatever that was." He met her gaze again, adding with a small smile, "Its obvious that you care, even if we don't always see eye to eye."

Ashley:

Ashley narrowed her eyes. So he thought she had made a mistake for reacting? Seriously? God Ashley hated everyone who was overly self righteous and thought they knew what the right thing was all the time. That drove her crazy. It annoyed her that he'd call her response a mistake rather than a perfectly reasonable reaction to disappointment. At least in her mind.

"Well luckily our kid can't hear that, because our kid is still developing all of its stuff. So that's a very ridiculous point to make." Ashley would never say something like that to their baby when he was born. But she was allowed to be disappointed. She didn't like that Roo made her out to be horrible for feeling that way.

She took a breath and let it out again, letting out a bit of a sigh. "You're forgiven I guess. Just acknowledge that I'm allowed to be disappointed. I might have overreacted a little, but it did take some processing." Ashley glanced down at her stomach, worrying at her lip a little. "This baby is going to need us to have our shit together. I'm not feeling very optimistic right now." May 31, 2020

Roo:

Roo pursed his lips but ignored the first comment. She was missing the point. Because, of course she was missing the point. Just don't call our kid stupid, idiotic and untrustworthy when he is here! he wanted to snap. But it would probably just cause another fight and that would ruin whatever understanding they were having right now.

"Thanks, and of course you're allowed to feel disappointed. I get that, believe it or not," Roo said quietly, huffing out a breath. "And I agree—its hard to feel like I have my shit together when I don't even have my history homework together. Though I suppose," he grinned crookedly, "it might help if we could somehow find a way to go five minutes without insulting or provoking each other before baby boy arrives."

Ashley:

Ashley wasn't sure that he did get it. But she'd let it slide for now. If only because he wasn't going overboard with his stupid morality stuff again. Making her feel like she was horrible for having feelings. Ashley refused to allow that any further.

"Yeah maybe," Ashley agreed reluctantly. "I can't help some of my mood swings though. You know that's part of the package." Not that some of what she said was hormone related but still! It was part of it. "But we do need more of a plan. We have half of this to go really and we haven't figured any of it out yet."

Roo:

Roo really didn't think that mood swings and name calling were a package deal, but whatever. This was Ashley and she was the singularly most stubborn person he'd ever met. Nothing he said would make her see his perspective if she didn't want to.

"Well, first I guess getting you settled in to your own place will be step one. You know so we can start collecting the baby's things and making a place for him," he said reasonably, thinking more out loud than anything. "And have you thought about us signing up for the childbirth class at the hospital? My mom was telling me about it and apparently couples can go and get a tour of the baby department and learn what to expect and stuff."

Ashley:

Roo was absolutely right about that. Ashley desperately needed her own place. There was no way she could subject Ashleigh Q. to a newborn baby in her place. Not to mention Ashley A....well she needed her own space for the kid. For herself too. She didn't like living off the charity of others. "I know. I'm waiting on my trust fund. Just another week or so and I'll have what I need."

That would be step one. It would allow them to prepare and make a nursery and all. "Are you going to prep a nursery in your house? I mean I hope so. I can't have the baby all the time." Or at least she was pretty sure. She'd go mad if she didn't have some relief here and there. The hospital stuff though? That was a little intimidating. Childbirth was a terrifying concept that she'd largely been ignoring. Probably not smart on her part.

"Right...um...we should probably do that soon. How soon do we have to sign up for that though...realistically speaking?"

Roo:

Roo did, indeed, plan to set up a nursery at his house. He'd been talking about it with his mom and they had agreed to use the small extra room they had. They weren't sure how often the baby would be with them but he knew his kid would need some kind of space.

"Yeah, we're setting up a nursery," Roo replied. "We're probably going to go check out the children's consignment shops in NTO next month. Um—" he paused, running a hand through his hair. "You, er, could come too. If you want?" He didn't know why he was inviting Ashley to go shopping with him, just—he figured she would need to start thinking about buying baby stuff too.

"And as for the classes, the birth class probably isn't for another month or two. My mom said around six months was a good idea. But the newborn care class—we could probably sign up for that one sooner rather than later." He shrugged. "Never too soon to learn how to change a diaper, I guess."

Ashley:

Ashley hummed. "I think that's a good idea. I..." she rubbed the back of her neck. "I want to be sure we agree on what's safe for baby." She didn't mean it as an offense there really, but they both probably had ideas on what they thought would be appropriate. It would be better if they discussed it and picked stuff out that would be relatively similar in both nurseries.

She would have to make a note of that. The childbirth stuff worried her a lot more than the other stuff. Ashley was sure she'd figure out how to be a good mom. Not to mention.... "I know how to change a diaper," Ashley remarked coolly. "I did it with my siblings." And maybe that was a lie, but she'd felt like she'd basically raised them. Diapers had to be simple enough. "Admittedly it's been a while but It think...hmm...I should probably be able to do it better now."

Roo:

Roo raised an eyebrow, but again, let the comment slide. He planned to completely defer to his mother's advice on what to pick out for the baby. Honestly it would be stupid not to seeing as she had done all of this before. But, whatever. If being in charge of which crib and stroller he kept at his house made her feel better about all of this, he guessed he could deal with that.

"That was just an example," he snorted, rolling his eyes. "There's a lot more to newborn care than diapers you know." His mom had told him about swaddling and feeding and colic and so many things that made his head spin just thinking about them.

Though..." he raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Your siblings aren't that much younger than you are. Are you telling me that you were a diaper changing expert back in kindergarten? Somehow dealing with poop and spit up doesn't seem like your thing, even back then."

Ashley:

Ashley sighed. "Of course there's more to it than that. I assume there's how to feed them and so on and so forth." She was a little worried about that. She'd read about how babies could have a better immune system if they were breastfed for a while...but Ashley also wasn't sure she liked the idea of the baby hanging off her boob. Maybe she was being ridiculous about that.

She made a face at Roo, shrugging her shoulders. "Well maybe not that exactly...but the nanny could only do so much with the three of us. I looked after them. Alright? So I'm not completely clueless. That's all I'm saying."

Roo:

Roo laughed when she made a face at him. "Eh, either way, a class is probably a good idea, even if its just a refresher course for you. And it would probably be less awkward if we did it together." He shrugged.

His mom had done that stuff alone at their age, but she'd had no choice. They have a choice and, who knew? Maybe going through those slightly embarrassing classes together would be good for their relationship.

"And I know you're not clueless. But it wouldn't hurt you to admit that you don't know everything." He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I know it's hard to beleive, but I'm not your enemy here. And I would never laugh at you for not knowing something, particularly about this baby stuff."

Ashley:

Ashley couldn't help but sigh. Okay. Maybe Roo had a point. Or several points. At the least they were coming to reasonable conclusions. They'd have to work together to some degree. Ashley didn't want to be in on this on her own.

"Alright fine. I will admit I don't know everything. As annoying as it is to say that. And I definitely don't know enough about boys. So you win on that front too." Ashley ran a hand through her hair. "So we sign up for the classes then, and do the shopping. I'll let you know when I have a place and uh...is there anything else?"

Roo:

Roo grinned. "I think that's a great start. I'll even add that I know almost nothing about little kids, let alone babies. In case it wasn't already obvious." Honestly it was the farthest they'd managed to come since all of this had started and this sort of alliance, uneasy though it was, between them gave him hope that maybe, just maybe all of this was going to be ok.

"I'm sure more stuff will come along that we'll need to talk about, but for now the only thing left to decide is if you are ok with these pictures and if I'm allowed to take a selfie with you this week?" He put on his most hopeful smile, complete with puppy dog eyes. He was sure she'd say he was ridiculous, but he didn't think he was doing his job if he didn't try to make her laugh once in awhile.

Ashley:

Ashley couldn't help but snort. "That does level the playing field a little bit." And it made her feel a little bit better somehow. They were both completely clueless. And in a way they were in this together. Did that bother her at times? Definitely, but it was nice in this moment where the reality came in and threatened to overwhelm the peaceful ignorance she'd let herself sit in.

"You know...I'm willing to bet the pictures are fine." He'd been doing pretty well so far at least. Ashley considered him for a long minute and then sighed, reaching out for her own phone and moving closer to him, draping an arm around his shoulders. "Fine, but this is a one time thing okay? And don't smile at me like that. It's unnerving."

Roo:

Roo smiled at his small victory. Moments like this reminded him why he'd liked her so much. It was actually kind of confusing, but he refused to let the confusion in and just reveled in the nice moment together.

He let her pull him in and tried not to grin too widely as he slipped his arm around her waist and tried to smile as if they liked each other. It was for their son, after all.

He couldn't help but think about how his smile made her uncomfortable? Well, that was interesting. He didn't know why it surprised him, but it did. He tucked that information away for later. "I make no promises," he laughed, looking into the tiny camera lens as she snapped the picture. "The smile is kind of a package deal. But I'll do my best."

Ashley:

Ashley sighed, forcing a smile of her own to make the picture look nice. Or at least nice enough. She couldn't promise pure goodness for their kid, even if they did take a selfie. She and Roo weren't in love. They weren't a couple and she wasn't going to pretend they were content with each other just to make their photo album nicer. But she took the picture and quickly pocketed her phone.

"A package deal. Oh please. You always do that when you're all...." she vaguely gestured with her hand. "Charmer. It's ridiculous." NEW

Roo:

Roo smirked and stepped away. He was not Ashley's biggest fan, not not really. Not anymore. But times like this, he could almost imagine being something more. What that might be? He had no idea. He couldn't imagine ever really being in love—they were far too different in ways that rubbed both of them the wrong way for that. But a family? Of sorts? Maybe.

There was hope anyways.

"Charmer, huh? I'll take that as a compliment." He laughed and glanced at his watch. "Looks like my lunch break is almost up, I should probably head back to the Barn. Text me when you want to meet for next week's pics." He waved. "See ya around, Princess."

#p: being real #r: ashroo #littlemister-roo

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dannychristiepopularperform-blog · 7 years

Text

Developing My Script

Having spent a lot of time working on everybody else’s ensemble pieces i was unsure how to go about mine. All the other pieces in our show were performed by one person with the help of the rest, using our bodies to create shapes, or our voices to build up tension etc. I felt I needed to do the same.

I wanted to do something self expressive with my rap skills, but I knew it was not enough to just rap. Tori in the other group had built a skit for her variety show where she got to act out a scene of trying to get a job in a strip club, so she got to show off her belly dancing. I thought I could maybe do something similar but take a real piece of my life, something autobiographical. Not only did I want to preserve a moment of my life and capitalise it, i wanted to honour my Grandma who raised me. I had re-watched a video I uploaded to youtube of her singing, and I felt it would be nice to make something out of that. However, my idea never felt Cabaret enough considering what the group and I saw at the Proud Cabaret.The acts were very self expressive, there was more jokes than narrative from the compare. It was not like watching a play like i’m used to or watching a variety show on the BBC. It was a series of dances, with nudity, skill and novelty. I definitely had skill but the rest did not appeal to what wanted to achieve.

Pressing on, I decided to create a performance which had Divine playing my grandmother stuck in a hospital bed, interrupting me while I tried to record music in my room, then had the others in my group popping in to play nurses during the performance of my final song, then have a moment where that before mentioned video would play and end the section. I was nervous about this however, as I thought the movements and the changes looked a little messy in rehearsal and my group played along but I could tell they weren't so serious about it. We tried it a few times and had something we were OK with but I really wanted to see how the rest of the class would receive it in a feedback session.

I performed this in front of the class and was surprised with the feedback I received. Ad’s and the rest of the class agreed my performance would be better stripped back to just having me performing on stage. At first I found it hard to visualise as I felt like I needed a visual representation of my Grandma. but as I did impressions of my Grandma it seemed people warmed to that more than having Divine there. I was massively inspired by Conrad Murray’s performance (There are clips on this feed). It would be a kind of stand up, but with a heart. I was relieved, and more inspired when I begun to put a script together.

This is what I came up with:

Dan & Nan

-1st light

I was raised by my Grandmother in Coventry who went blind when I was around 11 years old. That’s when I became a young carer.

Funny thing is even when she went blind she was stubbornly independent. She would cook, do housework, even go shopping and walk faster than anybody who dared to accompany her.

Grandma was the strongest woman I knew, she raised 8 children with my grandfather, then took my brother, sister, and I in when we were young and raised us too.

Grandma was a real old-school Jamaican Christian woman. Our Sundays were ruled by church and women in hats bursting out in the Holy spirit (impression). I was a good kid too, I was the top of Sunday school. Then I became a teenager.

-1st Soundtrack (low volume)

8 mile came out and we went mad. Every lunch and break time at school we would rap battle each other and if you lost at break you had better write something in 3rd period. Then, I was probably 13 when my friend james introduced me to Channel U (which is now called AKA) and I was exposed to Wiley, Crazy Titich, and a whole roster of grime pioneers. Grime had swept the UK and suddenly there were gangs of boys in every school huddled around a Sony Eriksson phone bluetoothing instrumentals and showing each other their new lyrics.

-1st Soundtrack stops

When I got my first job I spent most of my money on recording equipment for my bedroom and some turntables. I started being known in my area for my music and I wanted to do more. In the meanwhile however Grandma became sicker and sicker until she was bedbound. She had lost the independence she was famous for and proud of and totally reliant on my siblings and I, and the district nurses. Of course, I didn’t mind, but it could be annoying at times, especially when I was trying to record.

-1st song till it stops

-2nd light 2nd soundtrack

Grandma; Daniel!

Me; Yes Nan!?

Grandma; Daniel!

Me; Yes Nan!?

Grandma; Daniel!

Me; (Under breath) Fuck sake.

Me; What’s up Nan?

Grandma; Fix this pillow fi mi.

Me; Again? I just fixed a second a go I told you I’m trying to work upstairs you can’t keep doing this.

Grandma; You nuh understand. Its such a terrible thing when you cant move.

-1st light soundtrack off

So I fix the pillow and its like trying to get the right picture on an old broken television or find the right frequency on an old fm radio but eventually I get it and I’m free again. So I run back upstairs.

-2nd song till it stops.

-2nd light

Grandma; Daniel!

Me; (to self) rassclart. (Out loud) Yes Nan!?

Grandma; Daniel!

-1st light

Back down stairs I go. This time she needs a cup of tea. So I make her a cup of tea in her beaker but it’s a long ting because she can’t hold it herself her fingers and arms are rusted up by arthritis so you have to feed it to her. Of course its too hot. So I put it aside to cool.

I try another song but I get interrupted again to go give her the cool tea, which is now cold so it has to be done again. This time I wait until its just right and just before she takes a sip she says;

-2nd light 3rd soundtrack

Grandma; Thank you Jesus.

Me; Did Jesus make your tea?

Grandma; What you mean?

Me; I mean what about us? We do all this stuff for you do we get a thank you? No, but Jesus gets all the thanks and all he does is hang on the wall looking like Noel Edmonds.

1st light soundtrack stops

I’ve done it again. Tripped the Jesus wire with my insolence. I get an earful about how nothing is possible without God and Jesus. But to be honest since Grandma has got like this I just refuse to believe in it all. Not to mention I’m a grown rudeboy now, I haven’t been church in years I blaze weed, link gyal and keep a butterfly knife in my sock in case Jesus doesn’t save me when it kicks off in a house party.

I’m also quite annoyed with Jesus. If he has any power at all she shouldn’t be in this condition. Shes been repping Jesus since she was born, she knows the Bible like the back of her hand and she has never let him down. But time and time again he lets her down. He lets my whole family down. I can’t stand to hear his name to be honest.

She’s such a soldier such a trooper. All I can see is her strength and her resilience, and I am living in her accomplishments. The house Grandfather and her worked years to buy and raise 8 children in. Jesus didn’t pay for that, or help raise none of them. Only 2 of them still do church. Everyone else is fucked up like me.

I shoot Jesus down every time she mentions him. It’s brainwash from slavery. Turn the other cheek and all that stuff slave masters would tell their slaves so they would work day in and day out and not fight back or fear the hell of a whip across their back for disobeying the master. I’m learning that once upon a time black people weren’t slaves, we weren’t Christians we were pharaoh and kings of empires. I try to tell her, and its interesting but not quite registering.

I love you Grandma but I wish you believed in yourself as much as you believed in Jesus.

-3rd light

-Final song

-video

end

-My script makes use of the Self Expressive mode, mixed in with the Representational mode. It is essentially a one man show where I act out all 3 of the characters which include:

-Myself in the Here and Now (Narrating)

-My younger self as a teenage rapper (Grime artist) Performed

-My Grandmother

My piece is definitely a Storytelling performance which could use techniques from book: Popular Theatre A sourcebook (p114 paragraph 4 Storytelling the languages of Topeng) where it speaks of storyteller character Penasar Kelihan from a play called Badbad it says:

“The first storyteller to enter is Penesar Kalihan. His entrance, accompanied by the usual shaking of the curtain and flourishes of the cymbals and drums, reveals him to be proud, flamboyant and commanding. He has age heart laugh of an enthusiast and dances n an exaggeratedly macho fashion that pushes the dance to the edge of parody.”

My narration and character while playing a younger me would require me to have a certain amount of charisma, and a certain amount of youthful bashfulness especially as a young grime MC. Most Grime MCs and rappers are stereotyped to perform with a level of aggression depending on what their style is. Grime was for the most part an aggressive genre when I was growing up and reflected the lives or experiences of young boys involved in gangs or street culture in the city.

On the other hand as a narrator and schizophrenic actor (portraying myself and my grandmother) I would exaggerate things, exaggerate my teenage machismo, and also exaggerate my Grandmothers’ behaviour somewhat. Mainly to make the performance comedic, and show the contrast between the two sides of myself i am portraying. On one hand I am a young teenager being aggressive and ‘cool’. On the other hand I am portraying the struggles of a young carer, and the struggles of an elderly woman. I would not be wearing any costumes (apart from the essential hoody) so my quick transformations would have to be fluid and easy for the audience to follow.

I indicated lighting in my script but that was abandoned. I wanted to do as Conrad Murray did in Denmarked, I had planned to use lighting show the changes, but feedback from the group changed that. I was advised to try using my position on the stage to illustrate the different characters and move in a triangular way in the boundaries of the one stage light.

-I would be slightly stage left as the narrator

-I would slide centre and slightly further back in the parts between my grandma and I

- I would use most of the front stage to perform my rap parts

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