#also the pictures are receiving because it was raining quite heavily the whole day and we got lucky with maybe 15 mins of drizzle in betwee

[ailendolin]

I visited a certain haunted house yesterday 👻

As a little belated birthday treat, my family and I went on a trip to Kerpen and Bergheim to visit Burg Bergerhausen (where the first series of the German adaption of BBC Ghosts was shot earlier this month) and Schloss Paffendorf.

Burg Bergerhausen - or Burg Donnerhall as it will be called in the show - is gorgeous. A wedding reception was held there yesterday so I did not take a lot of pictures but you can walk around the whole house which is surrounded by a beautiful moat and observe the local wildlife living there. It is smaller and more compact than West Horsley Place but definitely feels like the kind of place you could inherit and be overwhelmed by. As I mentioned in this post before, the house is not open to the public but the park area around it is.

And because it's only 15 minutes away, we also visited Schloss Paffendorf which is quite a bit larger and more impressive than Burg Bergerhausen. It's also not open to the public but there is a little café there and you can walk through the park behind the property which features huge ginkgo trees, sequoias and magnolias and is breath-takingly beautiful, even in the pouring rain. My whole family agreed we have to come back when it's not raining one day.

So if you're planning on visiting Burg Bergerhausen, make sure you go to Schloss Paffendorf as well because it's really close by and well worth a visit (even little Thomas thought it was nice 😉).

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Protea (Part 8)

Mohi knocks on her door for the fifth time that morning. “C’mon now, girl ‘s time to git brek’fes.”

Snapdragon buries her face further into the pillow and bunches her fingers up in its ratty cloth. “I don’ wanna, Mohi.” She doesn’t want breakfast or lunch or dinner or to go to her factory or to do anything at all. She just wants to lay down with her cheek pressed against the pillow.

“Kaz says ya come in las’ night all soakin’ wet.” Mohi calls through the door. “Ya catch sickness out there?”

“Maybe.” She lies. “I don’t feel so good.” And she doesn’t, but it isn’t a matter of sickness so much as a tummy tickling sorrow. She bunches herself into a little ball. She had finally found someone willing to tolerate her odder quirks and she’d managed to push too far. She should have known better than to try to push those quirks on someone who isn’t quite interested.

She forces herself out of bed and makes her way out into the backyard. Zenyul and Kaz are already out there, sloshing through puddles and mud as they show off their bending. It would be mighty nice to join them. She doesn’t much feel up for a trip to her factory today. Maybe they can teach her to fight; even if she can’t bend it would still be nice to pick up a normal hobby. Maybe if she does that, she can have someone nice like Mai.

Snapdragon ducks back inside and removes her necklace. She gives the thing one last look over. It doesn’t seem so pretty now. She drops it in with the rest of the trash and wanders back outside. “Zenyul, Kaz, I want you to teach me to do that stuff!”

The boys take pauses.

“I thought ya said ya couldn’t bend?” Zenyul cocks his head.

“Anyways, don’t you have a building to scramble up?” Kaz asks.

Her face grows hot. “I decided I’m done doin’ that. I wanna learn to…” She gives her best imitation of their bending.

“Yer serious?” Zenyul asks.

Snapdragon gives a firm nod, expecting to be met with a similar one. Instead Kaz bursts out laughing, “you can’t bend.”

“But I can do all’a them jumps ‘n flips, I do it all the time when I’m explorin’ the city.” Her face grows redder still.

“Ya need fire ta firebend.” Zenyul quirks a brow.

“Fine, ferget it.” She bunches her fists and kicks the nearest rock. She’ll teach herself to do those silly tricks. She’ll be better than Zenyul and Kaz both. She doesn’t even have fire but somehow she’ll manage it.

.oOo.

Mai supposes that nervousness beats boredom. She doesn’t fancy walking in this part of Capital City alone. And she isn’t sure that Mohi will take well to seeing her at her doorstep after upsetting Snapdragon so thoroughly.

She gives the door a quick knock. She hears the unlatching of a bolt and the turning of a lock. Mohi lumbers over her. Silently. Overbearingly silently.

“I’d like to speak with Snapdragon.”

Mohi’s eyes narrow. “She been sulkin’ all day ‘n nite coz’a ya.”

“It was a misunderstanding, I assure you.” Mai replies carefully. Perhaps more carefully than is needed.

The woman has a bladed stare that bears a likeness to the sharpness of the knives tucked under Mai’s own sleeves. “Some misunda’standin’. Talk ta ‘er, but if ya make thin’s worse…”

“I won’t make things worse.” She promises. “Is she in her room?”

“She out back.” Mohi gestures.

Mai slips outside to find Snapdragon throwing kicks and punches at the air. Every now and then she stops to observe Zenyul and Kaz. It would seem that she is trying to bend. Her face scrunches up and she throws another punch.

“Hey.” Mai greets lamely.

Snapdragon jerks before turning around. She forces a smile. “Oh hi, Mai.”

“Don’t look at me like that.” It is somehow worse than Mohi’s glower. She can still feel it on her back, burning into her. She steals a peek over her shoulder and catches Mohi lingering at the window. “I’m here to ask you if you wanted to go out for dinner. I know how much you loved the palace food.”

Snapdragon tilts her head.

“And it just so happens that I have a new necklace that...well it doesn’t go with any outfit I own but I still wanted to wear it.” She holds up that ridiculous trash necklace.

Now Snapdragon is beaming from ear to ear, a true picture of delight. Her eyes light up and it as if she has been jolted with a shock of energy; she grabs Mai’s hand, “come with me to the factory and help me find something to wear!” She tugs Mai past Mohi.

“Where’s yours?” Mai asks with a gesture to her own accessory.

“Oh, I, uh…”

She hears a clacking from behind. “‘S right here.” She holds out the necklace.

Snapdragon takes it from the woman’s hand and puts it around her neck.

“That was in the garbage.” Mai points out.

“That’s where some of the charms came from in the first place.” Snapdragon shrugs.

Mai sighs, she supposes that, that much is true. She wonders how many pieces of her necklace had been found in a rubbish bin. “I’m taking her for dinner. We might stay at the palace if Snapdragon is up for it.”

“Stay where ya like, long as ya ain’t hurt muh girl again. Don’ ya leave ‘er walkin’ alone in the rain like that anymore.” Mohi gives Snapdragon a little pat.

“It’s a sunny day, trust me, I’m only this nauseous when it’s this cheerfully bright. Snapdragon is going to have a great time.” Mai promises. The woman is already jittery with excitement. Mai isn’t sure if it is for the upper class meal she is about to receive or simply the prospect of going on a date.

Mai comes to decide that it had to have been the food that Snapdragon was excited for. She finds that the woman is somewhat clueless. Oblivious. Mai waits for her to swallow her drink before inquiring, “you know that this is a date, right?”

“A date?” She asks. “With...with me?”

Mai nods.

“You ain’t embarrassed to be around me?”

Mai wouldn’t exactly go that far. It isn’t exactly comfortable to have so many eyes upon her. Especially eyes that do little to conceal the judgment within them. She thinks that they have been watching them since they arrived. And suddenly she reconsiders letting Snapdragon pick out her own outfit. All the same, she needs Snapdragon to know that she is loved for exactly who she is All the same, it might be better if she learns to deal with eyes that judge. She could use a bit of Snapdragon’s spunk and creativity. The confidence it takes her to be truly herself; Mai wishes that she could have that.

“Maybe a little.” Mai admits. “I don’t want you to change though.” She isn’t sure how to articulate it. “I guess that I wish other people would.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wish that they wouldn’t look at you like that.” With crinkled noses and upturned chins.

Snapdragon shrugs. “I’m kinda used to it.”

She coughs awkwardly, “okay, there is one thing though.”

Snapdragon looks up from her soup.

“Can you eat with spoons and chopsticks instead of your hands?”

Snapdragon frowns but she reaches for the chopsticks.

.oOo.

Her tummy does all sorts of flops and flutters as they near the palace. She supposes that it isn’t quite as intimidating as it was the first time, but the jitters are still quite heavily present. She fiddles with the rusty cog on her necklace.

“You’re slowing down.” Mai observes. Snapdragon shuffles to keep pace. “Don’t tell me that you’re still nervous.”

“I ain’t sacred. I ain’t scared of anythin’.” Except for nobles and their passive-aggressive stares and remarks. She can already hear them complaining of her scent. “Do I get to use the palace bath again?”

“Do you want to?”

Snapdragon nods. “I like the soap bubbles.” She also likes those pretty delicate scents. Something about them is comforting. Something about them feels right.

“Well the sooner you get inside, the sooner you can have a bubble bath.” Mai replies. “I can go for one too.”

“I asked first.” She darts up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She waits for Mai at the top.

“Alright, you can take the first bath.” Mai agrees. She takes Snapdragon’s hand and gives her forehead a little kiss. Snapdragon’s whole face goes red. “But only because our first date went so well.”

“It did?”

“Did you have a good time.”

She nods vigorously, “it were wonderful. We gonna do it again?”

This time Mai kisses her nose. “You can pick the location next time.”

[ikenbar]

Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice CH4 PT2

Warnings: tips for the swear jar, fluff, and angst. like a lot of it. from almost all the boys. Lucien’s out. Sorry Lucy stans. also cliffhangers. not as epic as the Chapter three but cliffhangers nonetheless

(Chapter Four (Victor and Gavin) Prologue, and part one, and part three coming soon!)

Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D

Chapter four:

Part two:

“Hello?” Kiro’s agent, Savin, answered in a business-like tone.

“Hey Savin. It’s… uh… Super Stranger.” I cringed, avoiding eye contact with the curious Adri.

“Say no more.” Savin’s smile shone through the phone. Music played as he put the call on hold. Savin held on to Kiro’s phone when he was filming. I prayed I wasn’t interrupting anything, but I also couldn’t wait to hear Kiro’s voice again. 

After a few long and agonizing seconds, the call was picked up again.

“Hello?” Kiro’s voice sounded both panicked and expectant. I kept Adri in my peripherals as took a deep breath.

“Hey Kiro. It’s me.” 

Adri’s head snapped to attention.

“Super Stranger!?” Kiro exclaimed happily over the phone, “Oh thank goodness you’re alright! Are you ok? You weren’t hurt were you?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” I reassured, “Just... a slight cough. From the smoke.” Kiro sighed deeply.

“I’m so glad.” His voice was devoid of the obvious tenseness that it had before. I cringed and tapped my leg nervously.

 “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Don’t be. I’m just relieved to hear you’re doing alright.” Kiro sounded earnest. I felt the tension in my shoulders ease slightly. “Where are you? Let me come visit you!” Kiro giddly added. My heart jumped. The tension was back.

“A-aren’t you in the middle of a shoot? Wouldn’t Savin get mad that you’re leaving?”

“I’m sure Savin would understand if I cut a little early to visit you! Especially if I use my patented Kiro puppy dog eyes!”

“I would hate for you to get into trouble because of me.” I cringed slightly. I had raised my voice and the burning in my throat returned. I cleared my throat softly and continued, “Besides, I need to keep my secret identity, right?”

“I think there is an exception when it comes to explosions.” Kiro laughed but I could tell it was forced, “...Stranger, I want to make sure you’re ok. Can I please come see you?” My stomach turned. Who could say no to that man?

...

 I could.

“You will see me. In two weeks.” I said in my usual tactless tone. “As much as I want you here, it’s just not safe. People will find you and end up causing a riot at the hospital. We could be putting the lives of the patients here at risk. I’m sorry, Kiro, but my answer is no.” After a moment of silence Kiro sighed again.

“There you go again. Thinking of others’ well being before your own.” Kiro sounded as if he were smiling but his tone made it obvious that he was disappointed in my response, “Alright. I’ll stay. But you need to promise me you will call me everyday you’re in the hospital. And then everyday after that!!” I sighed, relaxing my shoulders once again.

“Ok. You have my word.”

“Good! Then I will be a faithful sidekick and answer!” There was some distant noise on Kiro’s end of the phone, “My break’s over so I’ll have to talk to you later. Make sure you call me, ok?” 

“Alright. Talk to you soon.”

“Drink lots of fluids and stay down, ok?”

“I will!” I rolled my eyes. Those words were getting old, “Goodbye, Kiro.”

“Bye, Super Stranger!”

I put the phone back onto the keypad and cleared my throat. I needed some water... 

After a moment of stalling, I finally looked over to Adri. Her eyes were huge and her mouth hung open. “Close your mouth please, Adri, we are not a codfish.” I casually returned my voice to whisper as I plucked the cup from her hands and took a drink.

“YOU KNOW KIRO?!” Adri shouted. I winced.

“Not so loud!” I hissed, covering her mouth and looking at the door. She pulled my hand from her face and spoke in a quieter tone.

“When?! How?! Where?! Wait, why didn’t you want him to come here? Is it because I’m here because I can leave as long as you take pictures-”

“Adri,” I held my hand up, cutting her off, “I met him a few weeks ago. I saved him from a car accident so he agreed to play a role in one of my upcoming shows as compensation. We are meeting in a couple of weeks to start filming. As for the reason why I don’t want him here, it isn’t because of you.” I avoided continuing the topic as I reached for the phone again. Adri stopped me.

“Then why?” She pressed. I paused.

“... He doesn’t know I was the one who saved him.” I said, looking down at my cup and avoiding Adri’s eyes, “In the office, I'm ruthless. I treat my employees with a little more harshness then Bart because that’s how I receive good results. But, because of that, it has tarnished my reputation as a person. People outside of the office think I am some sort of soul sucking tyrant. Hell, Victor thought I was a man at first. When I saved Kiro, I had my motorcycle helmet on. It masked my face and thus, my identity. If Kiro knew it was me, he no doubt would have refused my offer to have him on the show…" I paused a moment, thinking over that day, "... He called me his hero. I would do anything to keep that title.” 

Silence fell between Adri and me. I cleared my throat and reached for the phone again, but, before I could life it, I was stopped once again by Adri. I looked eyes with her. Her expression was soft and earnest.

“I don’t think you’re a soul sucking tyrant.” She said honestly. "And I'm sure if Kiro gave you the time then he will see it too. In fact, I'm sure that he will see you are the same hero that saved him that day. Even through your steel exterior, you can't hide that you're a good person." My heart skipped, stalling all of my movements momentarily.

“...You know,” I said, tilting my head slightly, “I have spent my whole life waiting to hear those words. Who knew it would come from some bratty teenager?”

"Hey!" Adri slapped my arm. I smirked and reached over to her, patting her head softly.

"Thanks, kid." I said earnestly, "It means a lot."

"Yeah, well, I mean it." Adri said, pulling my hand from her head, "You can talk to me about anything you know! Like, boys, your job, the reason why your company fucking exploded-"

"Woah! Swear jar, young lady!" I exclaimed, causing my throat to burn.

"I'll listen. After all, that’s what sisters do, right?"

I paused, "... you know, I've had tons of sisters before you but none of them have been so cool."

"Yeah, well," Adri leaned back in her chair, "I'm a rare breed."

I rolled my eyes and grinned. She sure was a keeper. Before I could be stopped a third time, I picked up the phone again and dialed the number I had dialed so many times before. I held the phone up to my ear, but didn't have to wait long as the line was picked up almost immediately.

“How is she?” Gavin’s voice was serious and resolute. He sounded as if he didn’t pick up the phone for small talk.

“...is this a bad time?” I asked warily, “I can call back later.”

“... I’m on my way.” And with that, Gavin hung up. I sat in shock for a moment, unable to fully grasp what had just happened. Nonetheless, I put the phone back down on the pad.

“He sounds like a hoot.” Adri said, her sarcastic tone returning. I hummed in mutual sarcasm and picked the phone up one last time. I dialed the number I had seen play on my screen numerous times in the rain. I prepared for a dial tone but was instead immediately met with the sharp voice of a machine. 

“I’m sorry but the person you have dialed has their phone off. Please leave a message and try again later.”

Lucien must be in a meeting. I moved to hang up...

 But I paused. 

I moved the phone back up to my ear and waited for the machine to finish it’s instructions. Once a sharp beep played, I spoke again, “Hey Lucien. It’s Ike. I don't know what you’ve heard but Ike ‘n Bar Productions… burned down. I’m fine. Bart’s fine. The company is ok. I’m just calling to let you know I’m-we are ok. I’m in the hospital but not for long. I know you would be telling me to rest and drink lots of fluids... but if you could give me some advice to speed up my time here, I’m all ears. You’re probably very busy with your trip so I won’t call you again until you call me. Goodbye.” I hung up the phone and sighed, then I grimaced and clutched my neck. My throat felt like it was going to catch flame.

“You should stop talking and rest.” Adri said, her voice noticeably softer than before as she handed me the cup, “But when you wake up, I expect more details on Kiro and the other boy you just called.” I smirked and nodded. Taking a drink, I layed down and closed my eyes. I didn’t sleep though. Thousands of thoughts plagued my mind. Ones on my employees and their well being, my company and where to go next, my family and how they’d be effected, Minor and the last I had seen him, Gavin’s serious tone, Lucien’s absence, Kiro’s disappointed voice,... Victor’s worried brow...

I must have been lost in my thoughts for quite a while before a knock came to the door. I opened my eyes and sat up. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by Adri. “Come in!” She called.  I flashed a frown at her, but she was quick to combat it with a snarky smirk. 

The door opened and a heavily armored police officer walked through it. He supported a bullet proof vest with various tools attached to the front of it. One of which being a radio playing the sound of static and an unfamiliar voice. The officer turned his radio off and approached my bed. His helmet blocked his face and made the sense of danger that he radiated even more intense. 

“Officer,”  I straightened myself in the bed, “How may I help you?” The officer froze. After a moment, he seemed to realize something then took off his helmet. I coughed slightly as I gasped, “Holy crud, Birdcop!? I almost didn’t recognize you!” 

Gavin looked around the room then locked eyes with Adri. Her face suddenly burned a bright red. “Would you mind giving us a second?” He asked Adri seriously. Adri swallowed and nodded quickly as she stood up.

“I sh-should r-refill her water anyway.” Adri chuckled nervously. She looked over to me, eyes wide and lips thin, “I’ll be outside if you need me.” Adri took my cup and walked briskly out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Woah,” I grinned slightly, “That is the first time I’ve seen her that flustered! You must have a way with teenage girls.” Gavin stalled by the end of my bed. I looked up, locking onto his eyes. He cleared his throat and took a pad and pencil from one of the pockets in his vest. He walked around the bed and took a seat in Adri’s chair. Gavin started writing something down, avoiding my eyes. For some reason, I had felt a strange presence from him. The same presence I would feel in an interrogation room. But, for some reason I felt like the suspect instead of the victim. 

“You look pretty heavily suited up for a hospital visit.’’ I joked, trying to lighten the tense air.

“I was in the middle of a mission when you called.” Gavin deadpanned, eyes still on the paper.

“Oh,” Guilt crushed my chest, “I’m sorry. If you need to leave-”

“What can you tell me about the bombing?” Gavin interrupted, finally looking up and locking eyes with me. His tone was serious, making me feel even more uneasy.

“Which one?” I teased, fidgeting under his stare.

“Both.” Gavin squinted his eyes slightly. My stomach dropped. Gavin studied my face for a moment, then continued, “Back at the warehouse, in the room where the bomb was hidden, there was something there, wasn’t there? Something that you’re keeping from me.” My body tensed and my expression fell. Gavin’s stare deepened.

“Why are you bringing up the warehouse now?” I asked, voice deeper then I intended. My throat burned slightly, “I’m in the hospital for a different reason.”

“You were in two explosions within the span of a week.” Gavin snapped, “That is no coincidence.”

I hurriedly searched for excuses. “The one in the warehouse was a demolition bomb. The bomb that hit me a couple of days ago was an incendiary bomb.”

“That doesn’t change a thing.” Gavin was getting impatient.

“On the contrary.” I adjusted myself in the bed confidently, “The incendiary bomb was thrown into my office. Whoever threw it had to know it was my office.”

“Yeah, and?”

“I fired a man a couple of weeks ago. He threatened me just before he left.”

“What?! Why didn’t you say anything to me about this?”

“Because, genius, a couple of weeks ago I hated you. In fact, it was that very day that we ran into Hickman.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“The man I fired couldn’t have known that I would fire him weeks prior to setting up the attack with Hickman. Not even I knew I was going to fire him then. They aren’t connected but my old employee has motive to throw a ‘fire’ bomb at my office. Because I ‘fired’ him.” Gavin’s expression didn’t change. I pushed further, “And besides, how was the man who made the bomb in the warehouse supposed to know that I was the one who was going to find that hidden room first?”

“There could have been a camera.” Gavin finally said.

“Why would he have a camera if he was planning to blow the place up anyway?” I retorted. Gavin thought for a moment longer, then sighed.

I was trapped.

“All of those points are purely speculation unless you can find proof for it. But you still haven’t answered my question.” Gavin leaned closer to me, “What was behind that wall, Ikamara?” Gavin’s eyes had locked on to mine. There was no way he would let the question slide this time. 

“...Pictures.” I almost couldn’t get the words out.

“Pictures?” Gavin pried, clicking his pen in preparation.

“Pictures of… evolvers. Taken in precarious places as if the photographer was unwilling to be seen.”

“Was there anything else?” Gavin returned his eyes to his notepad, scribbling a few notes and making it easy for me to twist the truth even farther.

“There was a map of Loveland… and… something else.” I sighed and tapped at my leg, “The words, ‘Operation Montu’ were hung on a banner on top of the wall. As if to say whomever had put all that stuff there has more planned.” Gavin finished writing and looked up to me, the once serious face now held anger.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

I looked back and forth between his eyes, holding back my tongue. Gavin’s expression shifted slightly. Eventually, I just sighed resignedly and pulled my eyes away from him.

“... there were pictures of me on the wall. I didn’t want to tell you and then be taken off of the case. You risked your life at The Wall when evolvers’ lives were put on the line. You left without me having a say in anything.. I know what it’s like to not want to be talked down from something. I just… didn’t want you to do it again on your own.” 

A pregnant pause weighed heavily on the room. I clenched my fists in response and tried to calm my beating heart enough to stop Gavin from hearing it.

“... I didn’t put my life at risk for the sake of evolvers at that night.” Gavin’s voice was gentle. I looked up at him. His expression had dramatically softened. His shoulders also looked as if they had relaxed and he seemed to have gotten a little closer to me. 

His eyes immediately locked onto mine, causing my heart to skip a beat and for me to involuntarily avert my eyes from his and back onto my bed. After slight movement from next to me, Gavin reached over and tugged at my face. His fingers were warm from being in his gloves for so long. The warmth made me lean into his movements and bring my eyes back onto his, settling like they had before.

“Ike,” His voice had become an octave lower, “I’m a cop. I put my life at risk everyday for the sake of the city. But that night… you were the only one I was thinking about.” My heart leaped to my throat. Gavin looked me seriously in the eyes. Much too seriously. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed by doing that.” I smirked slightly and pulled his hand from my face. Gavin chuckled and slid his fingers into the palm of my hand.

“It would have been worth it.” He said, squeezing his hand in mine. My smile raised slightly as I directed my eyes back down to our hands. I could feel the warmth of Gavin’s calloused fingers tingle through my hand and up my arm… 

I had missed that warmth.

The last time I had felt it was-...

 An image of Gavin’s lifeless body flashed in my mind. Suddenly the hand in mine felt foregin. 

“Welp,” I cleared my throat and straightened myself, letting go of Gavin’s fingers, “I don’t want to hold you from your work any longer.” Gavin cleared his throat as well and nodded.

“Right.” He said, standing up, “I’ll let you know when I am back so we can discuss this case further.” 

“Right.” I leaned back onto the bed, lost in thought, “Thanks.”

“No problem. And don’t worry about being kicked from the case.” Gavin said reassuringly, “As long as it wasn’t just your picture on the wall, you’ll be ok.”

“Cool.” I said, avoiding his eyes and nodding, “Good to know.” Gavin popped opened back up the pouch for his notepad... then paused.

“...One more thing.” Gavin sat back down and pulled my arm towards him. He reached into his pouch and pulled something from it. Before I could get a good look at it, he set it in my hand. In the middle of my palm was a silver chain with a small dove sitting on it. Memories of when I was thirteen came flooding back to me. Memories of sitting at the park, bandaging my new scars and shoving away tears from my eyes. A flourish of wind and flower pedals greeted my face as a group of beautiful doves flew in front of me, beautifully…  freely…

“Ike,” Gavin broke the memory I found myself lost in, “Are you ok?”

I slowly nodded and pulled my gaze back to him, “Why are you giving me this?”

“I put a tracker in it.” Gavin took back the bracelet, “The next time you are in danger, I’ll be able to respond instantly.”

“Next time?” I asked as he wrapped the bracelet around my wrist, “Are you making plans that I should know about?” Gavin flashed me a raised eyebrow and a smirk as he messed with the clasp. After a bit of fumbling, he finished clipping on the bracelet, allowing it to dangle from my wrist nicely. I pulled it closer to me, touching the charm delicately.

“It’s beautiful.” I found myself saying without realizing it.

“I’m glad you like it.” I looked up and caught Gavin staring at me. His eyes were just as gentle as they were before. I held on to them a moment longer before pulling myself from them.

Gavin stood back up. “I should get going.” I hummed in response, admiring the charm once more. Gavin walked to the door.

As Gavin watched Ike struggle to maintain her tough image, memories from before flashed in his mind. It was hard to think that just a little while ago, they were at each other’s throats. But now, 

“Be safe.” I said quietly. Gavin stopped in his steps. Realizing what I had just said, I added, “Or don’t. You know. Do whatever you want. It’s your life. Don’t listen to me...” My voice trailed off. I shoved my hands together as my face burned. 

>

“I will.” Gavin reassured, redirecting my attention to him, “I promise.” A soft smile rose on my lips. I moved to cover it up but it was too late. Gavin’s ears burned as his smile grew as well. What had happened to us? We went from anger, to bickering, to teasing, to...

He hadn’t remembered the last time he had felt this drawn to someone.

>

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Two-Meters-Too-Thick-Vest!” I scoffed.

Gavin cleared his throat and turned back to the door. “That hospital gown makes you look fat by the way.” My smile dropped.

And we are back to teasing.

“I’m just saying that you should try to get out of it as soon as you can!” Gavin held his hands up as he opened the door, “I’ll let your sister back in.”

“Thanks,” I rolled my eyes then paused a moment, “...hey.” I called to him. Gavin paused at the door, “...Your vest doesn’t really make you look fat.” Gavin turned back to me, his eyebrow raise handsomely. “You do a good enough job of that on your own.” I added. Gavin’s smile fell as mine raised. He sighed and rolled his eyes as he left the room,  closing the door behind him.

That man… 

Footsteps came from the door. I looked over and watched as Adri walked into the room, red faced and holding my newly refilled water carefully.

 “What’s with the face?” I asked, knowing full well what the answer was. Adri dazily looked up to me, eyes dreamy and smile soft.

“Who was that?” She asked, dazed.

“My neighbor, Gavin." I said, struggling to suppress an ever increasing grin, "He’s the police officer working my bombing case. Why?” 

“If you don’t invite him over for dinner, I will.” Adri sat back in her seat and held her face in the palm of her hand.

“Oh really?” I finally released a grin and folded my arms, “I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Don’t!!” Adri lunged at me to stop me from picking the phone up.

>>>

It had gotten dark outside by the time Maria had come to pick up Adri. I was left alone in the hospital room with nothing but the tv to keep me company. Even then, I wasn’t paying attention to it. My mind was still all over the place. More specifically, it was on the black mask with a green scarab. 

Montu’s mask. 

Something about it was familiar. Why was it familiar? Where had I seen that before? And the name Montu. Where was that from? Where had I heard that name?

"The Ike 'n Bar company's fire has finally gone out."

Hearing my name come from the tv, I snapped out of my thoughts and focused my eyes on the screen. It was a news story about my company's building. I cringed as they showed the footage from what had happened before. I grabbed the remote to turn off the channel when my eyes locked onto a figure behind the reporter. He was tall and in a black suit… and strangely familiar. He seemed to be running around, helping people in the street. I squinted at the screen, trying to make out the face from the bed I was bound to. Before I could finally focus on him, his attention snapped to the front of the burning building. An aerial shot revealed a blooded, soot covered, feminine figure coming from the building. She stumbled and leaned on the front door for support. The man moved to her but the footage seemed to glitch as he was suddenly by her side, helping her up and off of the ground.  The man scooped up the woman and carried her away. Not to an ambulance or to a police officer but to a nearby car. 

I furrowed my eyebrows and kept my eyes on the screen, unsure of what to make of what I had just seen. From the blood stains on the girl’s shirt and the matted brown hair, it could have only really been one person. And from the suit to the raven colored hair...

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice snapped me back to the attention of the room. I looked over to the door.

(Next)

[marunalu]

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs from 1937

Okay, this is one of my first childhood movies I’ve ever watched, so my option may be based more on nostalgia and maybe I’m a little bit biased.

Enjoyment: 

Even after all these years, I really enjoy this movie. The atmosphere and music, the lovely animation and the lovingly designed characters. Everything just fits together. You actually feel like you've landed in the middle of a fairy tale by yourself. There are a few scenes that scared me as a child, such as the transformation of the queen into the old beggar, or the scene as Snow White flees into the woods and sees all the grotesque faces and creatures. These scenes still give me goosebumps. This movie is not particularly action-packed, but it’s not trying to be anyway. It’s more a movie to relax from a stressful day and let yourself be carried away into a fantasy fairytale world. The evil queen's death scene is still one of the most iconic movie villain deaths to this day. Another interesting detail that I found out is, that the two vultures are supposed to be an allusion to Nazi Germany. If you look at the eyes of the vultures, you can see the colors of the German flag black-red-gold and these animals are also a symbol of death and evil.

Animation: 

I just love the animation in this movie. Yes, it's a little bit outdated, but there's so much love and detail behind it. You can really see how much work and time the animators put into it. Great details like the astronomical signs of the zodiacs above the magic mirror, or while Snow White still lives in the castle, it lies in both sunshine and shadow, which is supposed to represent the presence of good and evil living together behind the walls, but as soon as Snow White has left the castle, the next time we see the castle, it’s wrapped in deep darkness, since only the evil queen is still present inside of it. The landscapes look like realistic nature scenerys und honestly, the animals have no fucking buiseness to look so damn cute. I like that the animators gave humans a look with more realistic proportions, while the animals and dwarfs look more cartoonish, cute and funny. That creates a good balance. I also enjoy how the animators try to express feelings und moods with pictures, such as after Snow White was "killed" and the dwarfs and animals mourn over her and it's raining so heavily outside as if the whole world is crying together with them. Scenes that are supposed to be sad are sad. Scenes that are supposed to be scary are scary and scenes that are supposed to reflect hope and happiness do just that. Really, they did a great job!

Music:

Just like with the animation, I can mostly say good things about the music in this movie. Although it’s also somewhat outdated, it fits perfectly in every situation and scene. In creepy moments it’s scary, in carefree moments it’s light and bright and in sad moments it’s sad. Some of the songs are also really good mood-lifters, like "With a Smile and a Song" or "Whistle While you Work." Seriously, if you feel depressed or don't feel like doing chores, just listen to these two optimistic songs, I'm sure you'll feel better afterwards. At Heigh ho I still have to whistle with the melody, I just can't help it and "The Silly Song" and "The Washing Song" are also two very funny and mood-lifting songs.

Funny:

There were actually some funny moments in the movie that made me giggle or chuckle. The funniest scene in my opinion was probably when the dwarves were forced to wash themself and panicked. Dopey and Grumpy are definitely the funniest of the dwarfs, although Grumpy clearly doesn't intend to. Among the animals, it is probably the turtle. The poor guy is always the last to arrive, after all the action is already over and is always the one to whom something stupid happens, be it falling down the stairs or being overrun by the other animals. Interestingly, none of the funny or silly moments come from human characters, only ever from the dwarfs or the animals. Fun fact: there was a kind of competition among the artists that was even fueled by Walt Disney himself. It was kind of a contest among the artists who created the funniest scene involving the dwarfs and which Walt Disney would like the most in the end. The winner received a special bonus from him.

Characters:

This movie is full of lovingly designed characters, whether Snow white, the dwarfs, the animals, the hunter, or the evil queen. However, it must be mentioned that none of the characters has a really complex personality. Snow White is just a pure-hearted angel, the evil queen is just an evil bitch (and I love her for that), the personalitys of the dwarfs correspond to their names and the prince was completely wasted material. I think the hunter and Grumpy have the most complex personalitys of all. The hunter shows loyalty to the queen, but does not follow her blindly and lets Snow White flee instead of killing her, knowing that the queen's mind is evil and twisted. At the beginning of the story, Grumpy has a misogynistic attitude, although unfortunately it’s not discussed in more detail why. I think it would be interesting to find out. The movie only mentions that he thinks all women are evil and try to wrap men around their little fingers. He is always portrayed as grumpy (heh) and in a bad mood, but deep down he cares for the other dwarfs and later Snow White too. He is also the bravest of them and has leadership potential. He reminds me a little of my late grandfather, maybe thats the reason why he is my favorite character in the movie XD

Inequality & diversity:

Fortunately, as far as I could tell, there were no racist hints and moments in this movie. Grumpy's misogynistic behavior at the beginning may a bit annoying and as already mentioned, I think it's a shame that it was not dealt with in more detail. Maybe he was in love with a woman once and she broke his heart? Fortunately, however, he takes this behavior off after a while and shows that he actually cares for Snow White and wants to protect her like the other dwarfs. There are people who think that Snow White is degraded as a useless little housewife, because she does the dwarfs’ housework and that's sexist in their eyes. Although I can understand where this kind of thinking comes from, I disagree. Snow White clearly shows dozens of times during the movie that she greatly enjoys doing housework, cooking and baking, unlike Cinderella. It’s even more important to mention, that Snow White doesn’t consider it obvious to be allowed to live with the dwarfs, even though she is a princess and could simply order it. No, instead it’s important to her, that she has to work to be allowed to stay. The dwarfs give her a place to stay and protect her, so she helps them with the housework and cooks for them. And the most important thing is that she likes to do it. Another point is that Snow White is definitely portraied as the boss in the house. She makes it clear to the dwarfs that they should adhere to certain rules of decency and can also be quite strict with them, almost like a mother. The dwarfs listen to her (albeit reluctantly when it comes to washing) and are grateful for her help. I personally don't see anything sexist about it. It would be different if the dwarfs forced Snow White to cook for them and doing all the housework stuff.

My conclusion:

Watch it! This is not an action-packed movie, but more suitable for relaxing and freeing yourself from stress. This movie is full of positive messages as always trying to stay optimistic, even if you are going through dark times (always remember that Snow White had to leave the only home she knew, was demoted to a kitchen maid by her stepmother and who also wants to see her dead, just because she is more beautiful then her and still Snow White manages to look positive into the future). It also contains an important message to children: don't just welcome every stranger into your house and above all, don't eat (and drink) everything that a stranger offers you! I give this movie 7 out of 10 stars!

[heyyyharry]

Date 

(from the Flatmate!Harry Series)

...in which Harry and Y/N go on their first day, and it turns out quite unexpected.

Warning: language, mention of smut, fluff, boyfriend Harry.

Harry’s never done this before.

He’s done some crazy shits in his life (he’s got more than just a few meaningless tattoos on his body to prove it) and never been afraid of taking risks, but now when it comes to Y/N, Harry must admit he’s a little bit frightened. He’s never taken a girl out for a romantic dinner or bought her flowers or written love notes. That’s not who he is, well, was, in past tense. Because with Y/N now in the picture, he kind of wants to be that person for her. He’s more than willing to change, which, he believes, shouldn’t be too hard since he hasn’t been the same since they first met. However, he cannot help but feel like there’s still so much more to work on. After all, he doesn’t want Y/N to leave him, that’s the thing he fears the most.

“I want to take you out on a date,” he says to her the next morning, one day after their first kiss. “I stayed up last night to plan the whole thing, you just need to say yes.”

Y/N, still in her PJ, stares at Harry from her bedroom door with her eyes widened.

“You really didn’t have to.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “We hang out all the time, and we’re also living together! I mean, you fell asleep in my bed last night during The Notebook! We already look like a married couple to me, we don’t need a fancy date.”

“Are you kidding me? Yes, we do.” Harry scoffs. “If we’re going to be boyfriend and girlfriend, you’re getting a proper first date!”

They’ve never discussed this topic before, but Y/N honestly finds him referring to them as boyfriend and girlfriend kind of sexy. She immediately walks up to Harry and throws both arms around his neck, as a result, making him smile so wide.

“I like this Harry. Let’s keep him.” Y/N’s comment makes her flatmate chuckle. He cocks his head to the side and rests his hands gently on her lower back.

“He’s not going anywhere. I guarantee,” Harry tells Y/N with certainty.

...

Y/N spends almost two hours digging through her closet, trying on clothes for her date with Harry tonight. She eventually comes to a decision to wear this basic flowered black dress she hasn’t worn again since her sixteenth birthday, because her boyfriend back then said it made her look old. But when Harry finally sees Y/N in that dress, he tells her without a second thought that she looks ‘very beautiful’. He could lie and she wouldn’t care, she’s never been more sure of her feelings for anyone else.

On their way leaving their flat, Harry and Y/N run into their next door neighbor Ben who just came back home from work. In contrast to the cheerfulness on the young couple’s faces, the man appears a bit irritated and upset, though he immediately hides that look behind a smile when he sees them.

“Good evening, lovelies. Where are you going?”

“Uh...Dinner,” is Harry’s answer as he exchanges looks with Y/N, such behavior can never pass the eyes of their experienced neighbor.

“Oh my God, are you two going on a date?” he gasps, only receiving two smiles as a confirmation but that’s all he needs.

“Finally! I was rooting for you guys!” Ben squeals, clapping his hands excitedly. “Wait until the gossip lady downstairs hear about this! She thinks getting money from me is easy? I’ll show her!”

Harry stares at the older guy with bulging eyes. “Ben, you made a bet on us?!”

“Nooooo, I actually made a bet on you. That woman said you would chicken out but I believed in you mate.” Ben gives Harry a pat on the back, making Y/N crack up whilst Harry just stands there squinting his eyes, unsure whether he should get upset or say thank you.

“So which one of you made the first move? How did this happen exactly?” Ben asks, quickly switching his finger back and forth from Harry to Y/N. 

The pair just look at each other, shrug and speak at the same time, “long story.”

“You know what they say! Couples who speak together stay together!” Ben says as he turns the key to open his front door. “Sorry, that was rude of me to take so much of your time. You kids have fun on your date, okay!”

“Have a lovely night, Ben!” Y/N tells him with a smile, and when she turns away, Ben secretly winks at Harry and gives the young man, who’s grinning from ear to ear, an encouraging thumb up.

...

It only takes fifteen minutes driving to their dinner location, but Harry swears those fifteen minutes seem like a whole fucking lifetime. He remembers his first time going to school, his first time going to the hospital after breaking his arm, his first kiss, and first time having sex, none of those things made Harry as nervous as he is now. Just the simple thought of Y/N not liking the food or service at the restaurant makes his palms heavily sweat. Then he starts to wonder to himself how some of his friends can make going on dates look so easy. 

Harry’s worry doesn’t go unnoticed. As soon as she sees him puckering his forehead while tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, she immediately reaches for his shoulder. 

“Don’t stress too much. You could just take me to McDonald’s and I’d still be very very happy.” 

“Fuck,” Harry blurts out. “I love you.”

It was supposed to be a thought in his head only, but the words slipped right out before Harry could even stop himself. As a result, his face turns bright red. Little does he know, Y/N swoons over those words just like the first time he said them to her. She leans over from the passenger seat to kiss him on the cheek, then lets him know that she loves him too.

The traffic is clear tonight so Harry and Y/N arrive at the restaurant a little sooner than scheduled. When they walk in, the place is already packed which is understandable for it’s Saturday night. Harry’s told Y/N that this is the best restaurant nearby, he knows it because he came here once with his sister when she was still in town and he’s wanted to take Y/N here ever since.

“Table for two. Harry Styles. 7 PM.” 

“Sir, I apologize for the inconvenience but your table may still not be ready yet. You would have to wait another five minutes, would it be alright?” says the small lady in the uniform.

Harry presses his lips into a smile and tells her they don’t mind at all, then watches her hurry back inside, probably to take care of his reservation. Harry takes a quick glance at Y/N, who’s holding his hand and grinning to herself, that’s all it takes to boost Harry’s confidence to the max. Usually he’s not into sappy stuff like this, but now he finds going on a date strangely enjoyable. As long as she’s happy, he’s happy.

However, the enjoyment doesn’t last long for Harry, because he quickly recognizes a familiar face in the crowded room. That young waitress is too busy writing down orders to spot Harry at the entrance. The problem is, she’s not just a familiar waitress.

“Let’s not eat here! I’m taking you somewhere else, okay?” Harry speaks fast and grabs Y/N by the hand to pull her out of the waiting line. 

The lady from earlier calls after Harry to say his table’s ready, still he ignores her, and keeps on walking away. Poor Y/N doesn’t know what’s going on, too confused to even protest and just lets her date lead them back to the street without any clear explanation.

“What happened?” She asks once they’re already outside. 

Harry heaves out a sigh as he reads her facial expression, thinking they haven’t got to dinner yet and he’s already made her mad. There’s no point making things up now, so he straight off tells her he knows a waitress in there and is not comfortable of running into her. 

He wants to curse himself out loud for the look on Y/N’s face when she comes to realization. He wants to change, but he cannot change his past and he feels threatened by the possibility of it one day being the reason Y/N walks away from him and never returns. He hangs his head and apologizes for what happened, even though it wasn’t his plan to run into one of his one-night-stands.

“It’s okay really.” Y/N takes a step closer to Harry then presses her palm to his cheek. “Thanks for being honest with me. Let’s just go back inside, I won’t mind.”

It’s confirmed, he thinks. She’s an angel.

“No, I don’t want to have her serve us dinner. It’d be really weird and uncomfortable. Tonight should only be me and you, no other distractions.”

“Then do you have a back up plan?”

“Of course I do.” Harry nods with confidence. A wise man always has a back up plan, and he believes he’s a very wise man. 

Harry’s back up plan is his second favorite restaurant in this area, he also went here once with his sister, to whom he owes a thank you after tonight. This restaurant is smaller and cheaper than the first one, but it’s outdoors, which he thinks Y/N may like since they’ll be eating in a garden, surrounded by fairy lights, under the stars. If this isn’t romantic, Harry doesn’t know what is.

“This place is beautiful,” Y/N exclaims as she grabs a menu on the table. Harry does the same with a huge smirk on his face, pretty proud of himself for successfully planning out this perfect dinner. It almost seems like nothing else can go wrong.

But...

Yes, there’s been a lot of ‘buts’ tonight. The biggest problem Harry doesn’t seem the notice yet, is the fact that they’re sitting outdoors with no roof above their heads.

Harry’s scanning his eyes through the menu when the first rain drop falls down on his shoulder, he doesn’t feel it. Then comes a few others on his arms and face causing him to look up at the sky. Large pillows of dark clouds are forming, a very bad sign indeed. Five seconds are all it takes for the rain to come pouring down like a water fall. Harry grabs Y/N’s hand as they run to take shelter under the nearest roof, unfortunately, they’re not as dry as before when they get there.

Harry brushes his wet strands of hair out of his eyes, trying to catch his breath as he turns to Y/N, who doesn’t look any better, all soaked from her head to toes.

“Harry, I’m wet, let’s just go home,” Y/N says and Harry stares at her with his eyes and his mouth wide open.

“Y/N Y/L/N, we’re in public!” he gasps, instantly receives a playful swat on the chest.

...

The heavy downpour obscures the view from Y/N’s bedroom window as the wind and raindrops beat on the glass with violent force. Harry’s a bit glad that they got home just before the heavy shower made it impossible to drive, still and all, he’s also disappointed for their date was canceled halfway. It was all perfectly planned out in his head, if it hadn’t been for the series of unfortunate events, tonight could’ve been amazing.

Y/N’s kneeling on her bed in front of Harry, drying his hair with a towel after she’s finished drying her own. 

“I like rain, always sleep better when it’s raining outside,” she softly says.

Harry stays still with his legs crossed and hands on his lap, like a little puppy as Y/N takes care of him, and she knows he loves being taken care of. At moments like this, he’s just glad they’re living together.

Y/N puts the towel aside then grabs Harry’s face to peck him on the lips, telling him he’s good to go, but he’s certainly not going anywhere now that he has her under his fingertips. As Y/N intends to rise from the bed, Harry slides his hands up to her hips, making the young woman flinch and blush a little bit when he slowly guides her to sit on his lap, facing him, legs wrapped around his torso.

“Why are you wearing this tank top, huh?” he asks with a husky voice when his eyes make a trip down from her lips to her chest. Y/N swallows hard, shifting a little bit in her flatmate’s lap while his eyes are burning holes on her flushed skin.

“Because it’s comfy?” she almost whispers.

“It’s too revealing. It does things to me.” Harry literally growls as he starts nosing at her jaw, she smells like lavender, and he cannot get enough. Y/N’s eyes fall shut. Her fingers soon find their way to his hair then she feels herself melting into their eager kiss.

“Harry, we-”

“I know,” he whispers against her lips, his eyes are close, too lost in her scent and taste but he’s aware of his own intentions. “We’re not gonna do anything you don’t want to. I just want to kiss you.”

Harry’s thoroughly surprised by his own words. Of course he’s always got good self-control in situations like this, but whenever he was making out with a girl in bed, one way or another, they ended up fucking. This is something different on a whole new level. He’s not gonna lie, he wants Y/N without a doubt. Sometimes when he’s alone, he even lets his imagination get a bit too wild with the thoughts of them having sex. But Y/N is not one of his hookups, she’s special, and he cannot risk losing something so special by rushing this. 

When Harry lays Y/N down on her back, she’s already a mess beneath him, half-heartedly wanting him to take her all at once, but for some unknown reasons, she’s afraid. She’s afraid that this is only special to him because they’re not having sex. As soon as they have sex, it’s very unlikely that everything stays the same. Having gone through all those shitty past relationships, Y/N didn’t want to fly too high to come tumbling down at the end, but now there’s no turning back, so she can only hope he won’t leave her alone.

“Harry, stop!” Y/N nearly shouts as she sits right up, forcing Harry to do the same. He looks rather shocked than confused by his girlfriend’s reaction when just a few seconds ago she seemed like she really enjoyed it.

“D-did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” Harry asks, a painful look displays upon his face. Y/N, now is already standing by the bed, shakes her head no as a response. 

“You didn’t hurt me. I...Well...”

Her sentence is left unfinished, suddenly interrupted by the loud shouting in the hallway. The gay couple next door are arguing again, but this time it seems pretty serious because they start using really harsh words to call each other. Y/N immediately rushes outside to see if they’re alright, and Harry has no choice but to follow her.

When they open the door, they only see Ben, his fiancé Mark has probably left. Ben stands with his head against the door to his flat and he seems absolutely devastated, so Y/N hurriedly walks up to him and asks if he’s okay.

“He cheated on me, Y/N,” the poor guy says between sobs. Y/N and Harry exchange looks with each other but no one speaks a word since presumably he still has a lot to say.

“I saw the texts on his phone to one of his colleagues. I confronted him about it and we argued, then he walked away...”

Y/N swallows hard as Ben turns around to give her a hug. She stands like a statue with her hands on his back, letting her heartbroken friend cry on her shoulder.

“He said he loved me and that he would change...I should never have believed him.”

The words strike down hard on both Y/N and Harry like a violent hit on the head, each for a different reason. So when they’ve said goodbye and good luck to their distraught neighbor, walk back into their flat and close the door, Harry just has to come forward and ask, “can we talk?”

Y/N’s not in any way fond of those words. Every time she hears it, it’s never news. However, she still calmly turns to face him and gives him a slight nod. Harry takes his seat on the sofa then Y/N follows right after to sit down beside him.

“I want to know what you thought about tonight,” says Harry as he maintains eye-contact with Y/N.

“Despite all the things that happened, I loved it.” Y/N smiles at him. “Why?”

“Because I noticed the way you looked when you heard what Ben said, and your reaction earlier in the bedroom. Is there anything you want to tell me, Y/N?”

“I...I can’t tell you, you won’t understand.”

Nothing’s ever hurt her more than the look on his face when she tells him those words. They sit in silence for a couple seconds, then Harry’s the first one to speak up.

“You don’t trust me.”

“That’s...not true...”

“Then what is?” He frowns, looking so disappointed it breaks her heart. “Because you’re obviously not telling me the truth, Y/N.”

When he intends to stand up, she immediately grabs onto his arms, eyes begging him not to leave her hanging. 

“Please don’t go,” she pleads.

And he softens all at once. “Then tell me what you’re thinking, baby. We promised to be honest to each other no matter what.”

“Okay, but promise you won’t be mad?”

He nods and gives her his word.

“Well...The truth is...I was afraid you will leave me once we’ve had sex...”

His eyes grow wide in reaction to her words. Then without saying a single word, he rises from the sofa then marches away, toward his room. Y/N becomes frantic with worry so she chases after him.

“You promised you wouldn’t be mad!”

Harry instantly stops, then turns around to face his flatmate who’s standing in front of him with fear in her eyes.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m hurt.”

And Y/N’s speechless. Harry exhales sharply, placing both hands on his hips, and he’s not even looking at her right now.

“I did everything I could to make you happy, Y/N. I tried to prove to you I’d got better. But how do you expect me to feel when I put so much effort in planning out a date which turned to shit then heard my girlfriend say she thought I only wanted her for sex? It...It seems like no matter what I do, I’m still the same old me to you, never gonna be good enough, aren’t I?”

Every word he says is like a knife pierced right through her chest and Y/N feels as if she’s already on the verge of crying. She closes the distance between them then wraps her arms around his torso pulling him in. Harry hugs her back despite how downhearted he is by her, because no matter what she says or thinks of him, she’s still the one he loves.

“You are always enough,” she mumbles into his shirt, though it’s muffled he still hears every word very clearly. “It’s just...When something’s too good to be true happens to you, you cannot help but feel scared you might lose it...You falling in love with me is still very surreal to me. My worst fear is one day you’ll realize that it’s all an illusion and whatever feelings you’ve had for me aren’t real.”

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard, Y/N. If I could just unlove you, I wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble just to prove it to you I’m worth it.”

She looks at him timidly, but is now more at ease hearing what he has to say.

“I mean, fuck, have you ever seen me stay up all night to google ‘how to impress a girl on your first date’ before?” Harry rolls his eyes skyward and starts beaming when he hears her snort.

"And when I said I only wanted to kiss you, that was really what I meant. I just wanted to kiss you, nothing more. If it was too much, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. But baby...” Harry heavily breathes. “...I’m a fool for you, and it’s embarrassing how much I enjoy it.”

Y/N is in transports of delight as she wraps her arms around his neck. Honestly, she thinks she’s even a bigger fool than he is in this relationship, because just a look of his green eyes or his beautiful smile or the way her name sounds on his lips can send her straight on cloud nine. And now he’s standing in front of her, saying all that, Y/N is just barely breathing.

“Don’t you dare not kiss me again, understand you fool?!” 

“Okay, ma’am. Shall we carry on where we left off?” Harry smirks and leans down to reattach their lips, but Y/N is quick to stop him with a hand on his chest, slightly pushing him away.

“Later! Now I’m going to make us dinner. Then we’ll finish our wonderful date night by watching Netflix, you’ll get to pick the movie this time.”

“Need some help in the kitchen?”

“No. You’ve done enough, mister! We’re all about gender equality in this house!” Y/N announces loudly as she dances her way into the kitchen, pointing her finger at Harry, who simply shakes his head, smiling uncontrollably. 

“That’s my girl.”

[crappyfics]

Formula 1

F1!AU + Street race!AU

Baekhyun x reader

Word count: 1 857  

Masterlist

Baekhyun was the most popular and most promising driver in the Formula One.

Like most of the other drivers, Baekhyun Byun came from a very wealthy family from South Korea and since his teenage years he had a liking for cars.

No surprise that at the age of 16 he could drive already, but only at the age of 19 he finally started training professionally.

From playful kart races as a kid, to huge partnership, contracts and sponsorship with multi millionaire business from around the world, Baekhyun had his first entry when he was only 21.

Now I have to say, he was pretty good. He quickly became an idol and everyone in South Korea knew who he was. Soon enough, the entire world knew his name.

The race in Abu Dhabi was his first win. With his Ferrari car, he posed for pictures and gave quick interviews to the sports tv reporters. He walked to the podium to receive his trophy.

Of course they handed him an expensive bottle of champagne which he shook and popped making it rain golden drops.

He was living the dream. He had everything he’s always wanted. The job of his dreams, the car of his dreams, the house of his dreams, the lifestyle of his dreams. Everything was perfect.

Everything was perfect until the race in Singapore.

Baekhyun was in third place. And although it was a pretty good ranking, it wasn’t enough for him.

Upset and disappointed, Baekhyun  was having a hard time to keep his position in the podium. He could blame himself, he could blame his car, he could blame the companies technology, but no one really knew what was happening.

After his raking on the fourth position for the third time in a row, rumours started to spread. The news talked about him all the time. What happened to the racing hero?

Baekhyun could be responding to the rumours in many different ways, but no response would change the fact that he was no longer the F1 star. He didn’t want to admit it because couldn’t accept being what he always feared to be. A loser.

And he was losing motivation and enthusiasm each day that passed. Until that one night when he was driving his car in the dead and excluded part of the city. Seoul was a bright place but it had its dark side.

The sound of loud cheers, music played from huge speaker in the trunk of the cars, people hanging around as the street drivers aligned their cars on the street. Baekhyun felt his heart accelerating.

The whole idea of street racing, to him, always sounded pretty dirty. But the cheerful and dangerous atmosphere of that place got him curious. It made him park his car near the people and get out of it to reveal his face.

Everyone was starstruck.

Let me tell you something, Baekhyun could not be the best racer at the moment, but he was still a professional Formula One driver. He was much more than a street racer could ever be.

And because of that, he thought that it would be fun to race that night.

The thrill of doing something new, dangerous, illegal, had him high with all the adrenaline.

Everyone was stoked to watch him race in his uptight fancy car. It was already quite obvious who was going to win that night. At the sight of Baekhyun positioning his car in line, the crowd started renewing their bets as some other people started moving forward to watch the drivers more closely.

Baekhyun was already seated in the driver’s seat when he heard a knock on his window making him turn to the side to find you. A curious look on his face was replaced by a smirk on his lips.

He lowered the glass window and looked up at you ready to use his charms on you. Maybe also ready to fulfil your dreams of getting his autograph or something.

“You have to leave now.” you said and he quickly changed his expression again. “You can’t race.”

“Do you know who I am?” he asked you and at that very moment you felt like pulling him out of his car by his hair.

You told him he had to leave because you couldn’t risk having people posting photos of him on the internet and the police finding out about the VERY illegal street race. Baekhyun thought you were concerned he was going to show up on the news and he made it very clear that at that point he didn’t care.

But you couldn’t care less about him. All you wanted was for him to leave so you could have your race with no risks of getting caught.

“Let’s make a deal, yes? You let me race tonight, and I’ll give you something in exchange for it.” he proposed.

“Like what? What are you gonna give me for letting you race tonight?”

“My phone number, perhaps.” his smirk made all your internal fluids boil! He was damn attractive but also so cocky and out of his mind. It got you on your nerves.

“I’m not interested. I guess I’ll have to ask you to leave or else my friends over there will have to take you out of here.” you pointed to the serious looking boys that watched your conversation from the other side of the street.

“What if I take you to an actual circuit? If you’re nice enough, I let you drive my car.” he kept his stupid smirk on his face but you grew to like it only because he was willing to do anything to race with you informal fellow racers and you as well.

Thing was, Baekhyun was desperate for being the first place again. He knew that he would win that night, he knew it meant nothing, but he also knew that he needed that experience.

You didn’t have to say a word. The way you turned around to walk away meant a concrete yes. When you were already a few step away you hear “Hey, baby!” and it was Baekhyun’s voice calling you out. The pet name made you smirk just like he had done. “What?” you say.

“Wanna make another deal if I win?” and you just laugh as you walk away knowing that there was no way he would ever lose in such a competition.

So… he took you to the circuit in Seoul as he promised you to. He even let you drive his car but it wasn’t his Formula 1 car of course because you weren’t trained for it.

But that whole experience was extremely exciting! You loved races just as much Baekhyun did. The only difference was that he had money to invest in his passion meanwhile you could only fulfill your dreams of becoming a racer by street racing.

As much as the entire thing was pretty dirty and there was a lot more going on that just racing cars, you actually enjoyed that whole thing. But nothing compared to being in a professional circuit in a fancy ass car and Byun Baekhyun, still Korea’s biggest idol, seating in the passage seat as you drove like there was no tomorrow.

Not only you had a good time. He did as well. So much that he invited to come along with him to Monaco. It was his next race and in his heart he claimed you as his lucky charm.

You couldn’t just say yes because it felt wrong and ill intentioned, but he had invited you wholeheartedly which made you feel special in a way. So you said yes.

And a week later you found yourself in the Principality of Monaco, in quite fancy outfit for a race. It was a sunny weather and the smell of summer in Europe was very different than in Korea.

Baekhyun gave you a free pass to the circuit which gave you access to the VIP area and the company sections once the race was over.

It was about to start and you had your hands close to your heart trying to calm you down for a bit. Like never before, watching the Formula One race was really important to you.

You knew how poorly were Baekhyun’s performances lately, but in the bottom of your heart you believed he was still the bright and great Baekhyun Byun, your generation’s idol.

It started so fast. Baekhyun in disadvantage for not having had great ranking in the past circuits. But quickly enough, after two laps, he was already growing stronger and the new adjustments on his car seemed to be making great difference to his driving that day.

And on the 30th lap, Baekhyun was consistent on the third position. Still not even half-way through the race, you could hear the loud cheers whenever his car passed by that sector of the circuit. The scenery was beautiful and Monaco was alive during the GP weekend.

From third place Baekhyun moved to second and stayed consistent for another twenty laps when already on the 70th lap he was on a tight competition with the first place.

He had already gone through a pit-stop on his 40th lap, and now it was too late to afford another one although his tires were getting too worn out by the second.

75th lap and Baekhyun was in first place! It was incredible and the crowd cheered. The entire world was watching Baekhyun make his way back to the podium but there were still another 3 laps to go and it could take a few minutes. Anything could happen.

When he finished his 78th lap, Monaco had never shaken like this before. Baekhyun Byun was, after 5 failed GP’s, in first place again.

You were probably the loudest amongst everyone else watching the race. You celebrated like never before, taking Baekhyun’s success as if you own.

Again he was beside his car, holding his helmet in his hand, downing his water in one single chug and breathing heavily as he heard the people cheer for him and scream his name. He felt whole again!

The tv and the radio reporters came to interview him but soon the wall of people opened when you came down running with you all access pass. Your eyes focused only on him, your champion.

“You made it!!!” you said as you hugged him as tight as you could. He wrapped his arms around you and buried himself in your embrace.

“Only because of you.” he said. “You are my lucky charm.” and he moved his face close to yours to kiss you. All cameras captured that moment. It was going to be on the news worldwide.

Baekhyun was victorious but he wasn’t the only one.

He had to let you so he could run to the podium to receive his well deserved trophy. And as he did so, you watched it all from down there and all you could see was Baekhyun Byun shining like a star. His smile was the brightest thing in the entire world and you heart could only grow fond of him.

[austinpanda]

Dad Letter 101119

9 November, 2019

Dear Dad--

Our home begins to look and feel much more like home. The landlords, Maine Real Estate Management, have made life difficult by creating two new trailer pads near the entrance to the park, and designating them “1A” and “1B,” when previously the trailers had only been numbered. The big computer in the sky just can’t handle that. Google maps thinks our home is a mile from where it actually is. I have no idea where the police or ambulance will go if we ever have to call 9-1-1. 

But, together with MREM, we’ve convinced the appropriate parties of our existence. The mailman knows where we are, Spectrum finally dispatched someone who gave us access to the internet again, and UPS, Fedex, and food delivery people all seem to be able to find us. We got our first utility bill yesterday, with a yellow Post-It note on it, kindly asking us to contact the electric company to let them know we’re 1A, and not lot 1. Welcome to my world, assholes! I couldn’t update my address online, and didn’t feel like calling them, but I was able to switch us to paperless billing online, so we won’t receive mail from them any longer. 

Minor problems abound.

My nice computer speakers now produce a loud hum whenever they’re switched on, regardless how you adjust the volume knob. Turning it up and drowning out the hum seems effective. 

Our fridge only cools stuff down to about 55 degrees. It’s supposed to be closer to 40. We don’t like drinking milk anymore, because it isn’t cold. 

We only have about six minutes of hot water in the shower, and then you’re DONE. You might not be done, but when the hot water goes, you’re DONE. 

There’s a minor leak over the back door when it rains heavily. Fortunately, the previous tenants installed plastic hooks on the top corners of the door to hold a towel in exactly the right place to catch the drips!

The back door light isn’t working. The bulb had shattered, somehow. When I tried to get at the bulb, the whole light fixture fell apart. So that’s kind of nasty.

We have a one-meter cement cube next to our kerosene tank and I don’t know what the cube is for. 

I suppose I need to advise the landlords, to see what can be fixed. I just don’t want to, because you have to call them and ask. You may sense a theme here. Calling people to ask them for shit is not my favorite pastime. We had to call Spectrum five times before they sent someone to install our internet service.

Here’s the thing, though: Now that we’re settled in, receiving mail, about to have new driver’s licenses, we need to get jobs. And having a job, and having to go to that job, and do that job, and stay at that job till the workday is done, over and over, is nowhere near as fun as NOT having a job. I know the only answer to this problem is, “Tough titty. Get a job anyway,” but I need no further reminders about the uncaring nature of reality. 

What kind of job to get? Marijuana is legal here, perhaps I could get a job on a pot farm, if there’s one near me. I could get some die-dyed bib overalls, and chew on a marijuana stalk as one would a wheat stalk, and say things like, “The ballast on the HPS needs replacing over the Bubblegum Northern Lights Gorilla Glue Strawberry Cough hybrids, ayup.”

I could work foodservice. I don’t care; I like cleaning things. Problems with that: severe flat feet and assorted ankle bullshit means I can’t stand up for more than an hour or two without significant and increasing pain. Also the pay sucks.

There’s a university nearby. This seems like a good possibility for employment. I can type quickly, and I’d be surrounded by young, horny college students. I’m sure they’re fun to be around!

Either way, I need to think long-term with the job. Need some security, some chance for growth, as little customer interaction as possible, and some bennies. Perhaps it’s not too late to attend medical school. That’s an inexpensive pastime!

Of course, one of the biggest reasons we did this, was that we wanted to live someplace where we didn’t have to work so hard just to keep the rent paid. And we did well on that score! We got twice the floor space, and our rent has dropped from $1,050 per month to $825. The rest of our bills should be comparable to Austin. Electricity: we’ll use less in the summer, more in the winter. Our car insurance and internet cost a bit less, but now we have to pay for kerosene and plowing.

So that will be the next goal, finding employment. That will make the transition from Texan to Mainer complete. Also we want a second cat. And we hope that this will, in no way, imply failure or shortcoming on behalf of Samuel L. Jackson, Cat. We just want two, to see if the cold will help encourage them to be friends, and sleep on top of each other. 

There’s not much else going on here. The movie version of Doctor Sleep has come out! I have seen it, and would like very much to tell you how it differs from the book, in terms of who gets killed and who doesn’t, but I shan’t! And the book is better, because it spends so much more time with the characters, and Danny’s alcoholic backstory, etc. Still, not a bad movie, with a few good scenes. Doesn’t quite compare with the original, but Stanley Kubrick was from a whole different world of movie making. Also Stephen King famously HATED the original “The Shining” movie. Maybe he feels better about this one. I’ll ask him the next time I go take pictures of his house, if he comes out. 

We got our first snow a couple of days ago! It didn’t amount to much more than a dusting, but it lasted most of a day, and was so lovely to look at. It was like every window of this home became a winter screensaver. Most of the views out of this trailer are of other trailers, or the nearby McDonald’s, but some of the views are of big tall evergreens that surround us. The trailer faces north, so we get sunlight through our starboard side in the mornings, port side in the afternoon, but we’re so far north that the sun now sets at about 4:15 pm. It’s really weird!

We have purchased snow boots, parkas, a snow shovel, and a car scraper thingy to clean my windshield. I’ve got my Maine driver’s license, some Maine car insurance, and I’m working on getting my car registered in Maine. I heard that, if you don’t know how to drive on icy, frozen roads, you just, “Pretend you’re taking your grandma to church. There’s a platter of biscuits and 2 gallons of sweet tea in glass jars in the back seat. She’s wearing a new dress and holding a crock pot full of gravy.” I guess this means driver slowly and cautiously. We are prepared! 

Much love to you both! More updates to follow!

[bleep-blop-lizard-hop]

Jenny/Vastra Modern Coffee Shop AU

Jenny is a college graduate working in a London cafe in order to make enough money for rent until she can find a real job.

Vastra will be human in this universe.

Vastra had moved down to London from Scotland to train as a rookie cop just like her sisters did before her.

Vastra is a known regular at the coffee shop who would come in every morning before work, every afternoon for such with her co-workers, and every evening before heading home.

The first time that Jenny saw Vastra come in was during a drizzly autumn morning. Vastra wore a long gray trench coat over her police uniform, a woolen plaid scarf around her neck and black leather gloves to keep her hands warm. Short bobbed, slightly wavy brow hair framed a uniquely attractive face, complete with a well-sculpted jawline and stunningly bright blue eyes.(I tend to imagine human Vastra looking rather similar to Neve McIntosh, the lovely actress who played her in the show)

Vastra approached the counter where Jenny stood and ordered her usual black coffee with three shots of expresso and only a modest amount of sugar. Jenny was so mesmerized by Vastra’s beauty and charming Scottish accent that she misheard her name, accidentally spelling it wrong on the cup. Jenny became even more flustered when she realized her mistake and tried to apologize, despite Vastra insisting that it’s OK. Jenny still felt bad, so she gave her a free muffin on the house for extra good measure.

An electric spark occurred where their hands touched briefly on the coffee cup, but neither of them was willing to acknowledge it.

Meanwhile, Jenny’s co-worker, Bill, was watching the whole spectacle from the back storage room with great intrigue.

After that day, Vastra started going out of her way to come into the shop earlier each morning just to see Jenny. Though initially surprised by all the attention that she was receiving from Vastra, Jenny enjoyed her company nonetheless, perhaps a little too much than she would admit. They both liked talking to each other and spending time together, which served to increase their mutual attraction.

Jenny eventually grew bolder and would put in the extra effort to create artistic pictures in Vastra’s coffee using syrup and cream.

That often made Vastra the target of relentless teasing from her fellow officers, Martha, Clara, Donna, Amy, and River, who would eat lunch with her in the cafe. Jenny also has to deal with Bill’s cheeky comments about what an utterly lovestruck fool she is and that she should just bleeding ask her out already, for Sappho’s sake.

A month passed before it was Vastra who finally made the first move. Jenny came into the shop one morning to find a large bouquet of her favorite flowers waiting there on the counter, including violets, roses, and lilies. Inside the bouquet is a card signed by Vastra, asking her on a date and Jenny’s face instantly lit up as she read it. Bill tried to act coy when questioned about her, but Jenny knew that it was her who unlocked the door for Vastra to get in and leave those flowers.

Their first date consisted of going to see a play at the local theatre, then taking a stroll in the park where Vastra offered a shivering Jenny her coat, and they shared a kiss under the moonlight that was pure magic.

Afterward, they decided to stop by the cafe and get some coffee, but instead stumbled upon a robbery in progress. The lone masked suspect grabbed a terrified Bill and held her hostage at gunpoint when the two of them walked in, prompting Vastra to keep Jenny behind her as she handled the situation herself. Bill bit hard into the assailant’s hand and stomped on his foot, before she was able to slip out of his grasp, giving Vastra the perfect opportunity to tackle him, disarm him, and install handcuffs so that he doesn’t pose a threat ever again. Once the fear induced shock and adrenaline had worn off, Jenny came to the conclusion that this was easily the greatest date EVER.

Jenny and Vastra’s relationship continued to progress smoothly from there, leading Jenny to move into Vastra’s home within a few weeks.

Jenny soon grows fond of Vastra’s pet cat, Earl Grey, and would always bring home treats for him.

Jenny waiting for Vastra to come home from late night shifts at Scotland Yard so that they could drink tea and eat pastries together while snuggling on the couch, watching tv until they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Vastra telling Jenny about her work during the day, especially if something majorly positive happened like finding a missing child, busting an illegal drug deal, or simply giving directions to some lost French tourists. Jenny was quite pleased indeed to learn that Vastra could speak both French and Japanese fluently.

Vastra was aware that Jenny didn’t want to work in a coffee shop forever, of course, and is super supportive of her aspirations to become a professional photographer for a major national magazine publisher someday.

Jenny and Vastra being huge Sci-Fi-fi geeks together.

Vastra escorting Jenny to work every morning where they would kiss before parting ways, and Jenny never hearing the end of it from Bill.

However, she did caught the two of them engaged in a heavily heated make out session in the back storage room on one particular occasion. 

Jenny pecking Vastra’s cheek while serving her order, which invoked even more teasing from her friends as Vastra merely smiled like a lovestruck idiot.

Vastra playfully patting Jenny’s buttocks whenever she walks by, earning her a semi-stern glare from Jenny.

Vastra occasionally picking Jenny up in a police car to take her home, which never fails to excite Jenny.

Vastra bringing Jenny to the police target practice room and teaching Jenny how to shoot a gun.

Vastra teaching Jenny some martial arts and self-defense techniques in case she ever needs it.

River making a sexual innuendo to Jenny regarding Vastra’s handcuffs and the two of them laughing when Vastra blushes bright red.

Vastra showing Jenny her prized set of genuine Japanese katana swords and Jenny is absolutely fascinated by them.

During the weekends, Jenny and Vastra would hang out with friends at the pub before they all go dancing in a club. After having several drinks to loosen up, Jenny and Vastra would sing karaoke duets while visibly tipsy. In every single universe no matter what, Vastra has a habit of flirting with anyone she finds remotely attractive until Jenny pulls her in close and reminds her she belongs to with a furiously possessive kiss. They’re both the passionately jealous type, that’s a fact.

Jenny hanging up a rainbow LGBTQ+ FLAG on top of the cafe for Pride month and any bigot who is offended can just fuck off.

Jenny admiring and polishing Vastra’s police badge for her.

Firefighters were called to their house once because Vastra was trying to cook a meal for their anniversary, with disastrous results.

Vastra giving Jenny an expensive camera and rare memorabilia from her favorite Sci-Fi show on her birthday.

Vastra stealing a piece of pastry when she thinks Jenny isn't looking, which results in her being forcefully shooed out of the shop.

An overprotective Vastra making herself appear more tough and intimidating whenever she sees rude men bothering Jenny, whether it be at the cafe or in the streets.

Jenny and Vastra going on romantic open carriage rides throughout the city.

Jenny and Vastra dancing and playing in the rain together as if they’re five years old again.

Vastra boasting about her strong immune system and is grumpy when she does become sick, requiring her to stay home in bed for a few weeks. She soon realized that being sick wasn't so bad after all, since Jenny would feed her soup, and snuggle with her, and take good care of her. It was in those little moments that Vastra thought Jenny is way too good to her.

Vastra is obligated to keep her body as physically fit as possibly in her line of work. That proved to be somewhat of a problem for Jenny, who can barely function normally around Vastra when she’s exercising, due to her exposed lean muscles and perfectly chiseled abs.

Vastra bringing Jenny along to visit her family in Scotland for the holidays. Vastra’s family, consisting of her parents as well as six older sisters, might seem intimidatingly rough and rustic at first glance, but they’re actually the sweetest, most kindhearted people once you get to know them. They were very supportive of their relationship and really welcomed Jenny with open arms, much to Vastra’s delight. The only downside was that her family would not stop embarrassing her by showing Jenny her old baby pictures, telling stories about things she’d rather forget, constantly asking when they’re going to get married, and not to mention when Vastra’s father was marching around in a kilt while playing the bagpipes at fucking five in the morning. Jenny, on the other hand, had a lot of fun spending time with Vastra’s family and appreciated their strong sense of Scottish pride.

Before they left Scotland, Vastra consulted her parents in private about her decision to marry Jenny. Vastra’s parents were happy seeing how she have found the love of her life in Jenny, granting the couple their blessing and giving Vastra a precious family heirloom ring to take home.

Unfortunately, Vastra as a police officer believed that it was her duty to serve the city regardless of the risks to her own life, and her stubborn self-sacrificing streak was a main source of friction in their relationship. Jenny and Vastra have their disagreements like any other couple, but it was one bad argument in particular that caused Jenny to leave and seek temporary refuge at Bill’s place.

Vastra and her patrol partner, Jenny(the blonde one) are the first on scene respondents when a call is sent out about the robbery of a jewelry store. They were pursuing the suspects in a high speed chase when they were struck by some kind of explosive bomb, throwing them off course until they crashed and setting their vehicle ablaze.

An undetermined amount of time passed before Vastra woke up in a hospital room to be greeted by the heartwarming sight of her parents and sisters who all came down after hearing about the accident. They were extremely relieved to know that Vastra would be alright despite her injuries, but none more so than Jenny, whose tears were flowing freely down her face as in her hand she held the ring that Vastra was planning to propose with. Jenny immeditately threw herself into Vastra’s arms and proceeded to smother her face with kisses while repeatedly proclaiming, “Yes...Yes...Yes!”

Vastra’s partner also survived, in case you’re wondering.

Vastra eventually recovered, they got married, and lived happily ever after.

[spectrekalenko]

Let Me Live - Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay in updating, uni work is so full on right now. I was so sick of doing it so I thought I'd slip another chapter in. The next one wont be for two weeks at least but I hope this tides you over until then!

This feels a bit of a rushed and fast paced chapter which I'm not happy about, but I wrote it in one sitting. This fic will also only be short anyway, but enjoy, and let me know what you think :)

Warnings for some talk about injuries and blood.

Read the whole thing on AO3

In the week that followed your night with Hanzo, you had berated yourself endlessly.

It had been stupid to invite an unknown man back to your place. You may have spent a couple of hours together beforehand, but the man carried around a bow and arrow for crying out loud. If he wasn’t dangerous, he was living in some delusion he was some type of Robin Hood.

Yet, every time you got a text from him, all doubts were forgotten and that warm feeling would bloom in your chest, along with a grin on your face. The texts were far apart and you only received a couple of day, but it was enough to keep your interest in him. He usually asked how your day was and wanted to know what you did, while keeping the answers light about his own affairs. His texts were very formal – full sentences, full stops, no slang, the works. Although he had admitted he found your use of emoji’s ‘endearing’ and that he was ‘highly amused by them’. He spoke often about visiting again but couldn’t make a solid plan – but soon, he promised, soon. But the time alone with your own thoughts, when you weren’t at work or cleaning the house for the fifth time that week, put doubts into your mind like little needles. He’s making excuses because he just wants to seem polite, he’s building up to let you down gently, you were just a one-night stand, he probably has a wife and kids somewhere.

However, these thoughts couldn’t stop the warmth that came with a text from him, or the ache in your core that your hand just wasn’t enough to satisfy anymore when you thought of his body. You were in deep for no good reason at all. So you tried your best to distract yourself – you worked harder, cleaned the house for a sixth time, even started to go on runs. In the end, it was all for nothing. Your handsome archer was constantly in your thoughts, and any time idle was spent daydreaming about him.

A week or so after that night you were sat reading when you got a text.

Hanzo: I saw this and thought of you. Of us.

Attached was a picture and when you opened it, you couldn’t help but laugh. The angle was off and it was shaky, but he’d obviously seen it in some piercing shop window somewhere. It was a poster that read “Come on in, we don’t bite… and bring a friend if you don’t believe us!”. Hanzo kept surprising you, for such a solemn face there was a special brand of humour hidden in there. You went back to his text. Of us. You felt like a giddy teenager as you replied.

You: I love it! It made me laugh :D

The reply was almost instant.

Hanzo: I am glad. (:

The text seemed to repel the doubts that lingered at the back of your mind and you relaxed, really relaxed, as you settled in for a quiet evening.

It was quiet until you were woken from your sleep by a pounding at your door. Stirring instantly you jolted up, heart racing from a mixture of fear and tiredness. What was going on? You checked your phone and the time was 2:41am. You hesitated, thinking you might of imagined the noise. A few seconds trickled by before the noise started up again, making you jump.

You slipped out of bed and silently sauntered into the kitchen, the light from your phone the only thing stopped you from falling and stumbling. On your way through the kitchen, you picked up a knife, trembling slightly. You had never hurt anyone before – was someone here to hurt you? You put in 911 on your phone and hovered your thumb over the call button, as you stood by the door. When the pounding stopped, you spoke.

“Who is it?” You tried to make yourself sound firm and disapproving, but your voice was shaky and thick with sleep. Your eyes widened when you heard the voice at the other side call your name.

“I-It’s Hanzo, please… Open the door,” he groaned and you flung the door open. He was standing before you, head bowed and a hand wrapped around himself gripping his side. The other hand was supporting himself on the door frame and he was soaking from the rain.

“Hanzo, what… What are you doing here?” You had to calm yourself with a deep breath before your words came out at full volume. He raised his head and you let out a hiss through your teeth in shock. The skin around his left eye was darkening, and the slight swell made it apparent by morning he would have a full-on black eye. His lip was bust, and his left cheek was discoloured by the start of a nasty looking bruise. Your eyes darted down to where his hand held his side and he shifted his fingers, drawing your attention to the sticky red on them.

“Fuck,” was all you could think to say as you placed the knife down on a nearby table and held out your arm for him. He took it and leaned his weight onto you and you both groaned, him in pain and you with effort. You both managed to get to the couch where Hanzo practically fell down with a rough growl. You reached for your phone. “I’ll call on ambulance- “

“No!” Hanzo half-shouted and he winced as he sat upright. “Please, no. I’ll be fine I promise; I just need some bandages. Please, I can’t go to the hospital…” You looked at him while you considered his request. His eyes were almost pleading with you, and he looked desperate.

“Why?” His face dropped and you could almost see his mind turning trying to find an explanation – an explanation to cover up the real reason with how long he was talking, you guessed. He opened his mouth several times as if to speak, but words failed him. You sighed in defeat. “Okay. Let me see what I have lying around”.

His face lit up and he thanked you as you went to the bathroom and recovered as much as you had – some bandages, a few plasters, and some antibacterial wipes. It would have to do. When you returned to him he had already struggled out of his coat, breathing heavily. He wore an olive green t-shirt underneath, stained with a significant amount of blood on his lower left side. You grimaced. “You do know I’m not a doctor, right? I have no idea what I’m doing”. He managed a weak smile up at you and your irritation lessened.

“I am sure we will manage. I’ve dealt with similar before”. His eyes widened as you frowned, and you guessed he had just revealed more about himself than intended. You chose to ignore it, for now.

“Okay…” You murmured as you set yourself down on the sofa next to him, laying out your equipment in-between the two of you. “Shirt off”. He raised an eyebrow at your commanding tone and grinned, before wincing at his sore lip that stopped him from making any sort of remark. He slowly shifted himself to sit upright and slowly peeled the cloth from himself, a string of swears coming from his mouth as it stuck slightly to his wound. You swore yourself when you saw it in all its glory. It was a gash in his side, a long line that was an angry red with darkening red blood around it. Although you were no expert, it didn’t look too deep, and a good covering and some rest looked as if it might suffice for the time being. You considered the items splayed around you and picked up the antibacterial wipes, figuring it was a good start. Hanzo eyed you warily as you leaned in and as you started cleaning the wound he tensed, hissing out air through his teeth, his muscles clenching and unclenching, shifting the skin around the wound and increasing the pain. You were soon done however, and got to work covering the line with some bandages. You leaned back, admiring your handiwork.

“I thought you said you weren’t a doctor? That’s quite good handiwork for a novice,” the low voice brought you out of your daze and you glared at him, which seemingly only added to his amusement.

“I’m not, and I still think you would be better off in a hospital. With professionals,” you added, trying to sound as strict as possible. He let out a breathy chuckle.

“You’re right, but those professionals wouldn’t look as good as you if you wore a nurse’s outfit”.

You spluttered and felt heat rise to your cheeks at his sudden flirty outburst. It was a bold move, especially from Hanzo, and you tried to frown even more. “Save your flirting for when you’re not bleeding all over my couch at 3 in the morning, okay?” He had the good grace to return his usually somber state then, nodding. You got to your knees on the sofa and picked up another wipe, getting ready to tackle his face. Not a lot you could do here, apart from clean it up and let mother nature take its course to heal. You leaned in and gently wiped down his cheek and around his eyes, apologising quietly every time he winced. You then moved your attention to his lip, and to cleaning the blood on that. You put on hand under his chin, your thumb gripping it to keep him still. You worked slowly and with a lot of focus as you cleaned him up, and it was only after you finished you realised he was staring intently at you. You frowned slightly, a blush colouring your cheeks as you went to moved back. A hand around your middle quickly stopped that.

“What?” You asked out of embarrassment as he brought you back closer, his head just above your chest as he looked up at you. He reached up and brushed some of your hair out of your face.

“You look so beautiful when you are concentrating,” he murmured, and leaned in to press light kisses to the column of your throat, mumbling his thanks. A pleased sigh left your lips before something snapped in you and you gently pushed him back with a hand on his shoulder, shuffling backwards to look at him on his level.

“Hanzo, I can’t, you’re injured and I- God, I- “you don’t know what came over you at that point, whether it was tiredness or the shock of the situation or both, but before you knew what was going on hot tears were rolling down your face and you were choking on your words. “You’re injured! You just t-turned up here injured and you won’t even tell m-me how it happened! What if it had been worse, what i-if your injury had been worse and you just d- “. You had to stop yourself before you broke out into full on sobbing. You rose from the sofa and started pacing, a hand covering your mouth and an arm wrapped yourself as if you were trying to hold yourself together. You glanced over at him and your composure nearly slipped.

He looked shocked, mouth hanging open slightly and eyes trained on you in disbelief. His eyes were shining and a thought flashed across your mind – what did Hanzo look like when he cried? Before you could think anymore he had shakily gotten up and made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his good side. One of your hands went to his chest to stable yourself as fresh tears unleashed themselves unbidden and he rocked you slowly, head on top of yours.

“I’m sorry… I’m truly, truly sorry to have scared you like that. I-I will explain one day, I promise, but I can’t… Not right now…” His low words and his actions soothed you, the tears stopping only to be replaced by a sudden wave of tiredness and your eyes felt heavy. He kissed your head pulling back slightly to look you in the eyes, smiling weakly. “Why don’t you get in bed, and I will clean up. I will join you”. You agreed, too tired to argue at this point.

You reached your room and collapsed into in, trying to stay awake by listening to the sounds of Hanzo shuffling around. The light went off from the hall and you just about make out him coming into your room before you felt the bed dip with his weight. You turned into him, head near his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and proceeded to stroke your back. You yawned.

“’M glad you’re okay Hanzo. I’d make a good doctor. Was gonna stab you at first when I didn’t know it was you,” you heard him chuckle, and you liked the sound. It pulled you deeper into sleep. “Never stabbed anyone before”.

“I’m sure you haven’t. Now shh, and sleep.” He gently chided. You didn’t need to be told twice and quickly drifted off, Hanzo’s warmth a great comfort for you. Just as you were pulled under, you heard him speak.

“Oh rōzu, my sweet, sweet rōzu, I will protect you. Can’t you see I’m already changing the man I am for you?”

[stylessemantics]

VII. Oh, Marcel

Also called: The Marcel Smut (maybe part 1/? let me know) Prompt: Harry, pitifully called Marcel as a sour joke, is a nice, young, straight-A student, with a bully and what he thinks is an unattainable crush on his bully’s ex, whom he thinks too much about, in the worst possible moments.

(FROM THE IDEA THAT THESE GIFS LOOK LIKE A DISHEVELED MARCEL HAVING A WANK.)

In which Harry Marcel Styles is having a hard day. Quite literally.

For Harry, getting up was the easy part of the day. He’d open his green eyes and analyse his blurry surroundings. It wasn’t after he slid on his glasses that he could tell apart the blobs of color. His small cactus on the edge of his desk, the guitar resting on the corner, the stack of papers next to his bed, and his meds on the bedside table as well. Flipping over on the bed he’d groan and stretch, and then proceed to scratch any itch. The typical, don’t act like you don’t do it too. The first thought that came to his mind was the one that determined pretty much the rest of his day.

Was it raining outside? Meant he’d have to carry his shitty umbrella, the one he still owns because he’s had no time to replace with all the club meetings and exams from the previous semester. Maybe this year he can get a new one.

Or maybe it was sunny. He would mentally prepare himself for the heat he’d feel due to the mandatory vest he had to wear for his part-time job.

Or maybe his first thought would be about the beating he’d received the day prior. Maybe not a proper beating, for his muscles don’t ache as much, and his glasses are still intact. On those mornings he’d sigh, he just couldn’t believe physical bullying happened at college in the 21st century, but it did, and it happened to him. Of course. With the kind of luck he’s had all his life. Broken bones, allergies, the glasses, acne. You name it. Harry has probably had it worse. Specially being called Marcel everywhere he went. He didn't dislike his middle name, but people had certainly made him loathe it, when they spit along with it or give him a push.

It’s not that Harry can’t defend himself. It’s that he’d rather not play their game… And he hasn’t been boxing in forever so, that’s another thing.

Those are the typical Harry mornings, but today was none of those. Today was one of the other mornings. Harry flips over on his bed and hisses, it’s impossible to ignore this time. He lifts up the covers from his body and stares down his naked torso to the only piece of clothing on him. It’s one of those mornings. He sighs letting his head fall back, hand rushing down to palm himself through the thin material of his boxers. He’s hard, and his heart is pounding. This isn’t a normal morning wood, this is him waking up horny and he know’s he’ll quite possibly, and irritatingly, stay horny all day. He remembers just bits and pieces of his dream but he knows just why he’s woken up like this.

Y/N.

He’s dreamt about her again. In compromising positions, with compromising sounds leaving her lips, and compromising juices leaving his member. He rolls his eyes but lets his hand slide down his boxers anyways. He’s gripping at himself and thumbing his tip before he can even properly take a breath. He’s sensitive, red and swollen, ready to burst. It won’t take him long to stain his sheets, specially when the image of her is still on his mind. The way she swayed her hips deliciously on top of him, and how she kissed him all around, leaving marks around his neck. Even though it’s all an image, he can almost hear it come to life. The thing about Harry, he’s always had a livid imagination.

He squeezes and moves his hand searching for his release. There was no way he was going to go to math like this, and a cold shower was not in his plans. He’d rather be just a tiny bit late to class than withdraw himself from the sweet…

He feels himself drip down his hand. There he thinks. Getting rid of these kinds of things was easy when he had just woken up and was still picturing y/n moaning.

He knew it. He so knew it. Today was a horny day. He’d only just arrived to campus and was already thanking the heavens he’d chosen not so skinny pants today, maybe his friend down there could be hidden perfectly. All he needed was to go to class and maybe keep his book bag on his lap at all times. All he needed was to get there. “Marcel!” someone called from behind him. Harry sighed and shut his eyes tightly. Fuck not again. He wasn’t in the mood. Deciding to continue on his walk as if he’d heard nothing.”Hey, come back here” and then he was stopped. Well, Harry decided he needed to run more often, these bullies where getting insanely fast at catching up to their prey, a.k.a him. He was forcefully flipped around to come face to face with none other than Jonathan. Jonathan Park. Just cause he had money, apparently he could push around other people and give them a hard time when they peacefully walked around campus… And by they we mean Harry. Jonathan thankfully wasted no time in tumbling the couple notebooks Harry was carrying to the ground, and then proceeded to shove him so he would be down there along with his multiple notes. Harry decided to stay quiet. Previous times had lead him to learn not saying a word was better than whining.

The encounter was quick. With Jonathan belittling Harry calling him Marcel with his nerdy voice, and putting in a British accent in there, one that made Harry wince more than the fact he’d hit the ground harshly. Did he really sound like that? Like he’d gobbled 3 nuts and was having trouble breathing. He waited until Jonathan was out of view, until he was ‘safe’ if he could even consider this safe. Harry rolled his eyes, picking himself up and gathering his notebooks. He removes his glasses from his face and gives them a quick clean with his vest. Shaking his head and throwing his curls to the back he puts them on once more, half ready for whatever was to come. With the added pain in his crotch, he knew this was going to be a long day.

Two. He’d wanked two times today. One in the morning, one after class when he stopped by his room for a brief shower before going to the library to study. Two, and it was soon going to be three. He just repeated the image of her fucking him so good, and whispering the dirtiest fucking lines. It sent shivers down his spine just thinking about it and his second orgasm of the day had him stuttering and shaking in pleasure. He’s got to admit: he showered twice, just to clean up the mess he’d made of himself in the shower. He silently slammed his head against the table, careful not to make much of a ruckus so that Mrs.Lang, the librarian didn’t kick him out. Not that he thinks she ever would… Mrs.Lang loves Harry. If she kicked him out, who would keep her company when the library is empty, and talk about HP Lovecraft with her, and who’d bake her peanut butter + white chocolate chip cookies once a month, and an extra batch on her birthday?

But all that considered, Harry was an educated lad, he wasn’t about to make a lot of noise while he groaned and suffered through a stiffy, and risk bothering the other students around him. Which talking about. His cock felt like it throbbed a bit more every time he looked up beyond his books, pushing up his glasses slightly.

Y/N was there. In all her delicious glory and certainly making him ache a lot more. It wasn’t fair, he groaned under his breath, it wasn’t fair that she was there, so close and so far, it wasn’t fair that he’d never touched her, but he can dream about ghosting his lips over her center, running his fingers through her hair. It wasn’t fair that she just sat there, doing nothing and that it caused him to ache for her this badly. It wasn’t fair that they have probably only spoken for a total of 30 minutes since he’s known her, and she clouds his mind like this.

Well she isn’t always on his mind, but when she is, there’s no way he can do much else.

Harry sighs continuing to read through his notes and highlighting this or that. He couldn’t concentrate much but it was something. Besides he was ready for this test. It took him just a few more minutes to finish going through his notes one last time and then he decided it was time to pick up and leave.

The library was a little bit of a safe haven for him, only people that wanted to study, or couples that wanted to snog quietly and have a bit of the thrill of being found, ever came by. Meaning no bullies, no name calling, nothing. Just some peace and quiet for once in his life. So you might understand the mix of anger, shock and fear that appeared on Harry’s face when Jonathan walked in. Fuck fuck fuck. It was the cowardly thing to do, but he ran to hide in the aisles of stacked books upon stacked books. He wasn’t going to get out of this without a purple eye, specially after he’d made the whole classroom laugh at Jonathan when he answered correctly in biology with something that was a direct jab at his ego. “It’s how the female reproductive system works… You wouldn’t know about that…”  At the moment even Harry was shocked, not knowing where the line had come from, but it gave him some power. Specially since Jonathan was called by the teacher after class which meant Harry was able to escape without a beating right away. But now that beating was chasing him.

Harry took breaths in and out heavily. This wasn’t going to end well if Jonathan saw him. Maybe he had walked in for y/n? The thought made Harry close to sick. How was it possible that y/n and Jonathan had dated? And for a year! He remembers being infatuated with her and thinking about actually trying to talk to her when Jonathan, the guy that had pushed him against the dressing room lockers that same morning, walked in and cut off his view of her, by kissing her, and she let herself be kissed. Harry needed around 3 different kinds of meds to keep himself from vomiting that night. There was no way he could talk to her, there was no way she would give him the time of day.

He took a deep breath in and out. There was no way he was going to hide until Jonathan decided to leave, so Harry decided to pick up his things and walking out the library while he could. Whatever beating Jonathan had planned would have to wait, he wouldn’t do it in front of Mrs. Lang.

Oh but Harry was wrong. He was only able to take around 10 steps towards the exit, quickly glancing at where Mrs. Lang would normally have been, had she not gone who knows where to do who knows what and all Harry could feel was his heart dropping down to his toes, and the tight grip someone suddenly had on his suit vest. Then all he knew is that he was on the ground, facing up to Jonathan sneering at him. “ Hey Marcel” was all he said before picking Harry back up by his shirt collar and pressing him to the wall. Harry winced at the loud noise of his body slamming to the wall and at the sight of Jonathan’s drawn back fist, as he braced himself for the impact. “ Jonathan stop that!” came the voice Harry knew as Y/N’s and he slightly opened an eye up to see her holding his fist in her hand and pushing at the tall, broad body of his bully, trying to get him off Harry. The effort was close to useless, all it did was reduce the pack of the punch. When Harry felt it collide with his cheek, he knew that this was not what he had coming for him. He’s felt a variety of Jonathan’s fists, and this wasn’t the strongest he could hit. He tried to wriggle himself free before he could get a taste of a second punch. “ I should leave you toothless after your joke in Biology” “ J-Jonathan, p-please…” “ Shut up Marcel!” And there it was again, the image of a drawn back fist, ready to collide with his face once more. Harry wasn’t sure he had enough things in his med kit back in his dorm, to treat the proper beating he was about to get. And then he was on the ground. Mrs. Lang had come up and started scolding Jonathan, with threats of calling campus security and all the coward could do was shake off y/n’s arms from him and rush to get out.

Harry kept his eyes closed as Mrs. Lang and Y/N talked, something about the older woman having a med kit behind her desk somewhere, and something about the younger one being angry and picking up his things. But there was laughter as well. All he could focus on was the snickers that came all around, people that had witnessed the scene and were murmuring whatever nonsense. People that irritated him, and his mind clouded with thoughts of what they could be saying about him, and the pity he dreaded to get. However he could, he gathered his things, fixed his glasses on his face and got up, shaking his shoulders and quickly walking out of the library.

Before Mrs. Lang and y/n could notice, too enthralled in their search for a med kit and their talk about how horrible it was that Jonathan was closest to an animal than a human, Harry had gone, and when they turned to treat him, ask him how he was, there was nothing.

Harry hadn’t punched anything in a long time, and it felt good to toss around the pillows and the extra mattress in his room. After Nick had dropped out, too late into the semester for Harry to have to get a new roommate, he had double the space. He had freedom and comfort. It was all him to do whatever he wanted, and it was all him and no one to really talk about anything. While Harry angrily held an icepack to his slightly bruised up cheek, he’d decided. Maybe he could take his boxing lessons back up, at least to properly punch the lights out of Jonathan once, once and for all, and then maybe get him to stop bothering him so much.

He thought over and over if it would be healthy to hold the ice pack to his crotch and maybe ease his hard on the same way a cold shower would… No that probably isn’t how that works.

He’s annoyed that even after a brisk shower he’s still hard thinking about y/n. Today has definitely been a roller coaster. He settles himself on his bed, removing his glasses and placing them on the bedside table, still half naked from his shower, a towel wrapped around him tightly. He undoes the knot to reveal his hard cock that springs up to his stomach. It takes him no time to wrap his fingers around himself. Three. Three times he’s wanked to the thought of y/n today. And hopefully this was the last one. As amazing as it was to know he packed stamina and could keep his member up perfectly, it was torture to have to walk around hiding it, and in pain. It was torture to see her around campus and know that he’s hard for her. To see her and remember his dream where she’s riding him slowly, hips swaying and making perfect circles on top of him. Her hands playing with his hair and his hands sensually gripping at everything they can reach.

He starts slowly, gripping his head and then lowering his hands down his shaft, thumbing at the slit at the end of himself. His eyes shut. He’s got a vivid imagination and it’s perfect for this moment. It’s like she’s there, he’s close to feeling her weight on his thigh, her breath on his neck. His back arches as he decides to play with his balls, one hand tugging and squeezing, the other making a V with his index and middle finger, applying pressure down on the thickness of it. Soon he’s moaning, scooting in the bed until he’s in a position where he can picture bucking up into her. “ Fuck” he whispers as he feels himself edge closer and closer, the only thought in his head besides the image of her doing all the things he wishes she’d do to him, - and he’d do to her back - is the thought of “what is she doing to me”. Harry isn’t close to knowing why on earth she had this effect on him. It’s like she had cast some sort of voodoo crap he’ll never understand, and he doesn’t know if he wants to ever be freed from it.

His hips move on their own, as his hands run up and down, he speeds up his motions looking for a quick release, all he wants is to cum to the imagination of her telling him how good he feels deep inside her.

He cums in thick hot spurts that run down his hand and between his fingers. His chest heaves up and down as he falls back on his mattress, curls in every which way, still damp after his shower. He lifts up his head to look down at his hand and the mess he’s made. One day he’s going to get to fuck her and he’s not going to be able to last much, he knows this. Well he hopes, really, that one day he can even talk to her properly, without stuttering over every other word, and that maybe she’d find him interesting enough to stay for a while. A groan leaves his lips as he lets his head fall back again to his soft pillow. Yeah, as if that was ever going to happen. A knock comes at the door completely catching him off guard. Damn, he needs to wipe his juices from his fingers still. Picking up whatever shirt he can he cleans his hand and reaches for his boxers. The knock comes again and again. “ Hold up! M’coming!” He can’t help but giggle at the sentence. He came really but… oh well. There’s the knock again as he slips on his underwear and selects a different shirt to pull over his head. He only gets to pick up his glasses from the bedside table, and rushes to open the door to find... “ Y/N!” He gasps out. “Uhh… w-what uh…” He starts to put the white shirt on over his head however he can, wiping his glasses with it and placing them on his face. Fuck. She… God she was there, at his door.

On the other side, all y/n could think about was… Fuck, Harry had tattoos? The last thing she was really expecting was for dorky Marcel- Harry, y/n, his name is Harry- she thought to herself. The last she thought was that Harry, the Harry she’s known for more than two years was so fit and tall and tattooed. And that his hair was curly without the gel, and long. And that his eyes were that green, and big without the glasses. That goes to show just how much she knows him. Nothing at all. But she’s never had the chance. He’s always on a rush or seems to not want to talk to her. “ Hi, Harry!” “ H-hey” He’s about to smack himself dead in the head. Why can’t he talk to her” “ So, uh… Well you dropped…” she reaches into her backpack and takes out a notebook. Harry recognises it as one of his and looks to the table where he stacks his notes to find the familiar blue notebook to be missing “this after the… Library… uh-I saw your name on it and… Well…” y/n finishes with a slight blush to her cheeks. Not enough to match Harry’s though. “Oh, t-thanks. I… Thanks” He awkwardly reaches over to grab it, while looking into her eyes. Fuck she’s so beautiful. “No problem… I-I… I’m sorry, by the way” Harry’s face is puzzled, what could she be sorry for? “It’s no… No big deal?” “ I mean… About, you know. Jonathan.” she whispers and Harry clutches the notebook to his chest as he looks down to his toes. “ Y-yeh don’t have t’apologise, i-it’s not like… S’not l-like s’your f-fault he’s…” He doesn’t want to say anything that maybe could hurt her feelings, after all they did date and maybe, although Harry doubts it, he was a nice boyfriend... “ A jerk? A dick? An asshole?” Harry’s eyes open wide in surprise. Well he wasn’t expecting those words from y/n’s mouth. He did imagine her mouth over his- “Uh well, yeah… that” he chuckles, trying to hide his blushing cheeks. He needs to stop thinking about her in… those scenarios. Don’t take him as a perv, mostly he doodles her name onto the edges of his papers, erases it before he turns them in, and he pictures himself making her laugh and smile and he imagines kisses. It’s just… It’s been a really horny day. “But it’s n-not your fault y/n, s-so… No need to apologise” She gives him a short smile and a court nod. “ Kay… I think it’s awful how he treats you and… Well I won’t talk about that anymore” “ Yeah… It’s i-in the past.”

Y/n and Harry stare at each other for a small moment. He can’t really believe this is happening, he really is talking to her and it’s not that awful… right? It’s not. Y/N’s hand twitches as she reaches it over to Harry’s bruised cheek, but it stops before she can ghost her fingers over the purple mark. Harry’s lungs feel like they have stopped taking in air. His chest is tight. “ You… You should ice that” she whispers. “ Y-yeah… I will ” and then silence.

There’s… Harry’s a bit afraid to say it but there’s tension in the air. Did she get closer, or did he? An urge pops up in his brain suddenly. He could… God, he could reach in and touch her, grab her and pull her to him. He could… He could kiss her, if only he was strong enough, brave enough. She coughs a little and steps back into the hallway. She felt like she was suffocating, like she’d been punched and her brain didn’t get enough oxygen so she’s woozy. She could kiss him. It’d sink every small chance of ever getting to be-friend him. Maybe he thinks she’s as awful as Jonathan. After all she dated the guy, and maybe that made her look like a bully as well, or like someone who didn’t care for him. She’s angry that her horrible ex could have ruined whatever it is she could have had with Harry. She’s scared. He’s scared.

So they nod. They wave. They smile. She turns around and he stares at her. The way she walks away and her hips sway, how whatever perfume she uses is lingering. And then he closes the door. Y/N beats herself up over it on her way to her dorm, and Harry smacks his head on the wall for a good 5 minutes. Why is he so awkward around her? Why is she so afraid of reaching out to him?

As Harry lets himself fall back on his bed he sighs. The phantom feeling of another erection keeps him awake for another 30 minutes.

Thanks for reading! Saw the gifs around and have had them saved for the longest time. talked about it with @overad and she kept pushing me to write this so... IT’S HERE! Let me know if this should have a part two cause I kinda think it might have one.

Smooches - Iv. x Masterlist

[scrapsofsky]

I am on my way home from Dublin OR have already arrived. Like science fiction, my future is fundamentally about the present. Naturally, that means Worldcon has ended along with my sadly short vacation in Dublin, Ireland, a quaint little city… Oh, who the hell am I kidding? Dublin is really cool, y’all. And since “recaps of adventures” are a thing in the science fiction community, I’m here to, well, recap my adventures. This one will be a long one, y’all. So here…we…go!

The Dublin Worldcon was a bit like a dream. I pre-supported (or whatever it’s called) fairly early in the game AND bought an upgrade for my badge at the Worldcon in Finland (2017). I really wanted to go to a Worldcon in Dublin. More importantly, I wanted to support strong bids for non-U.S. Worldcons because, well, I actually take the “world” part of the name literally, and I don’t think you can have a “Worldcon” that doesn’t make an attempt to occur in various parts of the world.[1. I also recognize that logistically, it is quite difficult to run a Worldcon in every place on Earth. First, you need an established community that could reasonably handle a con the size of a Worldcon. Second, you need a space that can reasonably provide for potential attendees. Also: with the dystopian turn around the world, I have particular concerns about safety for convention attendees, especially if they come from marginalized groups. There are no easy solutions to this problem. After all, the West has decided to flush its progressive movement down the toilet. Most of us are fairly privileged in the West, and I am reminded of my nearly tearful smile in the EPIC Museum in Dublin when the fancy screen reminded us that Dublin was the first (or one of the first) countries to legalize gay marriage by popular vote. Respecting other cultures is one thing, but we also have to consider the safety of attendees in places where rights-based progress has not occurred. And, yes, I recognize that my home country, the United States of America, has SEVERE issues when it comes to safety right now. I would be hesitant to support a Worldcon in the U.S., which is likely to attract people from Mexico and other heavily Hispanic or Latinx nations; no U.S. Worldcon can guarantee that they won’t get randomly picked up by ICE and deported even though they are legally in the country. Worse, no U.S. Worldcon can guarantee that anyone picked by ICE for deportation won’t have their lives put at risk when they are detained in some ICE facility without the provisions necessary for comfort. I’ll remind people that simply being in the U.S. is not a crime, and being in the U.S. illegally is so minor of a crime that any argument suggesting they be treated like hardened criminals is, frankly, some fascist bullshit. Yes, fascist. OK. I’ll stop now…]

Originally, I had not planned to attend the event. I recently moved to Minnesota for a new job, and that meant a lot of moving expenses ended up on credit cards (ahem, I have a ko-fi). So I made the choice that I would save my money to pay down debt (ahem, I have a Paypal, ahem). Then y’all nominated my podcast, The Skiffy and Fanty Show, for Best Fancast. And when you’re nominated for a Hugo to be announced in Ireland, you have to scrap your previous adult plans for nerd shenanigans.

Also:  I will apologize in advance for forgetting anyone I might have hung out with, encountered, conversed with, etc. Dublin was a bit of a whirlwind, and I am notoriously forgetful. I also do want to apologize to folks we meant to interview for the podcast. Stuff sorta fell through, partly because of me and partly because of things I couldn’t control. However, I expect to record new stuffs with you folks in the near future!

So with that in mind, here’s a day-by-day accounting of the events in Dublin:

Day One (8/13/19 – 8/14/19): Dubliners

Thanks (seriously, thanks) to all the lovely folks who donated to my fundraiser (to cover the flight and hotel expenses), I was able to stay a little longer in Dublin than I might have if I could only rely on work reimbursement.[2. Work will basically cover all the stuff that isn’t flight or hotel related. Without your support, I probably would have been there for two days and then come back, which is kind of a waste of a trip. This way, I could cover some bills and experience a bit of Dublin.] One of my co-hosts and co-producers, Jen Zink, had procured accommodations at Trinity College for Friday through Tuesday, so I decided I’d take a few days off from work to enjoy a bit more of Dublin.

If you follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that my departure did not go smoothly. I left Bemidji for Minneapolis with more than enough time for a 2+ hour early arrival. But Minnesota decided the 13th would be the day to dump Florida-level rain on the whole damn state. By the time I hit Minneapolis, I had lost at least 30 minutes of lead time. In Minneapolis, things were even worse. The roads were swamped with slowed sections and accidents. I even took the wrong turnoff, which put me in even worse traffic and sent me through back roads trying to make my way. Normally, losing a 2-hour lead on a flight wouldn’t worry me. When I fly domestic, I usually don’t have any issues at the Minneapolis Airport and end up with over 90 minutes of free time. International flights aren’t always as smooth, so I was certain I’d miss the flight. So certain I think I had my first case of real road rage in a long time. I even called Jen to rant as a way to calm the nerves.

Needless to say, I made it with time to spare because Minneapolis is weird.

And if only that were the last disaster! Ha! Upon arrival in Dublin (about an hour late), I received the delightful news that the airline (KLM-Delta) had lost my luggage. And by “lost” I mean “somehow they got it off the plane and misplaced it on the way to the baggage carousel.” This happened to everyone’s luggage for the flight. The airline tried to claim that the luggage had come on a different flight due to weight concerns, but I call bullshit. [3. Pro-tip, folks. Bring a change of underwear in your carry-on luggage. T-shirt and sporty shorts are also a plus.]

At the time, this really stressed me out. In retrospect, it’s honestly not that big a deal. I was just damn tired and didn’t want to go shopping for supplies while in an unfamiliar city after a red-eye flight.

The good news? I ended that day by chilling with Gareth Kavanaugh and ickle_tayto (it’s a reference!). We had dinner at an Irish pub place, where I devoured a Guinness and an Irish stew. So the evening ended quite well indeed!

Day 2 (8/15):  Let the Great Pre-Con Spin

The second day turned out a bit better. As you do when you’re in Ireland, I started off with a full Irish breakfast at a local pub. Nomnom. Aside from lingering pain from my leg (hey, leg pain!), I had a pretty good time socializing and wandering the convention center.

One thing I did get to do was catch up with Anne Lyle, who has been one of my go-to “hey, we randomly happen to be in the same place” friends. She seems to pop up at the same conventions, and we never coordinate anything. We just run into each other, and it’s a happy friends time. On top of that, I joined up with Julia Rios and her husband, Moss (who is a delight), and all four of us had a lovely dinner at a local sushi place.

I’m also pretty sure this is the day I met Matt (a.k.a. runalongwomble). We had a beer (thank god for European conventions), chatted about a lot of stuffs, and enjoyed general merriment. Matt is awesome!

That pretty much sums up that day. I weirdly didn’t go to any panels, which I’ll blame on jet lag and the fiasco of the previous day. Honestly, if not for catching up with old friends, I imagine it would feel wasted, but as it stands:  totally a good day.

P.S.:  This is one of those days where my memory is quite fuzzy. If we talked on this day, please remind me, because the brain has deleted my browsing history…

Day 3 (8/16): The Picture of Loopdilou

By Friday, the Skiffy and Fanty crew had begun to accumulate like some kind of troupe of Might Morphin’ Power Rangers (yeah, I went there). Julia and Alex were already in town. Trish was probably hiding somewhere. And Jen was on her way from Colorado. I’m told the weather in Colorado was pleasant in her absence, which meteorologists attributed to the absence of her Storm-like aura of radiation (X-Men rule!).

I mostly spent the day enjoying good food (another full Irish breakfast, y’all — Spar’s got it goin’ on), chatting with folks, drinking beer at Martin’s (the “pub” offered by Worldcon because European Worldcons are like that), and so on. Mostly, I spent half of the day waiting for Jen, who decided to be late to the party. I also recorded an interview with Ariela Housman and Terri Ash of Geek Calligraphy (forthcoming).

Once Jen arrived, we got checked into our room at Trinity College, proceeded to hunt down Julia and Alex and Trish, attended Julia’s and Alex’s readings, and then poofed off to a local Irish pub for eats with Anne Lyle in tow. Oh, fun fact:  Jen totally fell like a cartoon character after “running into” a foot traffic barricade. It was hilarious.

After those shenanigans, we went to Julia’s hotel room, acquired some lovely alcohol, and recorded an episode of Torture Cinema with Skiffy and Fanty super fan, Linnea. You can listen to the episode here! Jen spent most of the evening snoring.

Day 4 (8/17):  A Portrait of the Panelist as an Old Fart

The next day was an eventful one. It was the first day I got to really enjoy panels at Worldcon. Here’s a quick rundown of the panels I attended (some will link to Twitter threads and what not):

One of the big panels I attended was “What is African Science Fiction?” starring Nick Wood and Geoff Ryman. This panel was meant to have others in attendance, but alas there were some issues that prevented that. You can read some of my notes on the panel via this Twitter thread:

https://twitter.com/shaunduke/status/1162667073962741761

And even more can be found via Vanessa Rose Phin’s thread:

https://twitter.com/wordfey/status/1162660343895797760

I do just want to add that the problem of tourist visas is one that we’re going to need to deal with in the future. I’m not sure how much conventions can do to mitigate the damage this causes, but we all need to be more proactive in making sure people from other parts of the world can attend conventions and be part of our conversations. Otherwise, we’re just not the global community we should be. There’s more to be said on this, but this post is already ridiculously long!

From there, I decided to hit up “Building the SFF Community Online,” which I hoped would give me some insight into managing online communities. I semi-run two semi-communities:  The Skiffy and Fanty Show and StarWarsFanJoy, both of which I’ve semi-neglected because I am overwhelmed by life. The panel starred Christopher Davis, Kat Tanaka Okopnik, fromankyra, Elio Garcia Jr., and Heather Rose Jones (M).

I also attended a “Muslim SFF” panel starring S.A. Chakraborty, Yasser Bahjatt, Harun Šiljak, and Peter Adrian Behravesh (who looks like an English professor who took a class in Awesome). I really wish I had kept notes on the panel because they mentioned a lot of old school and relatively recent work, some of which was from Arabia and some of which was from elsewhere in the world (Bosnia!). I mostly go to these panels to find new stuff to check out, and in this case, I just missed a lot because I am still fairly new to the way names from Arabia (and, well, Bosnia) are spelled. In other words, I just missed a lot of names. But there’s good news for this one:  it was streamed live on YouTube! See here:

So go get you some Muslim SF/F!

The last panel I attended that wasn’t one of my own was “Audio Dramas and Radio Plays,” starring Phil Foglio, Roger Gregg, Fiona Moore, and Jeanne Beckwith (M). I mostly went because my co-hosts, Jen Zink and Trish Matson, were interested. I think we both expected to get something different out of it:  Jen probably wanted more tips on audio narration and dramatic presentation for her work as a podcast producer on non-Skiffy and Fanty things; I mostly wanted a better understanding of audio drama to see where there might be crossover for an actual play RPG podcast I’d like to do.

And, well, we didn’t really get much out of it. Except chuckles. The panel briefly talked about podcasts, but it was pretty clear that nobody on the panel actually knew anything about podcasts. That might not bother me except they were meant to be there as experts of a kind on audio dramas and radio plays, both things that have been part of the podcasting community for longer than I’ve been a part of it (I joined in 2010 and started listening in 2008 or so). Then one of the panelists basically said you shouldn’t start a podcast just to have fun, and all three us did one of those comedic “oh really” turns, and then Jen muttered “we really fucked this up.” We probably would have disrupted the panel with laughter if we hadn’t contained ourselves just a wee bit.

Beyond that, I had one panel and one event of my own to attend. It was a busy day! My first panel for Worldcon was “The Use of SF in Higher Education” starring Mary Anne Mohanraj (M), Nora E. Derrington, David DeGraff, and Corry L. Lee, Ph.D. We largely talked about how to navigate using SF in classrooms with emphasis on getting students to think about the world around them. There’s good reason for that:  most of the panelists teach physical sciences (physics and the like). I did get to go on a mini-ramble about the importance of using literature to think about digital technology, social media, and the like. This was one of those moments when I wished that panels could be longer or that we had more time between panels to have conversations with audience members. But Dublin tried to keep things moving, so…

The last thing on the list was a Literary Beer with, well, myself. These are basically kaffeeklatsches with beer instead of coffee. Free beer, I might add. Mmm. Free beer.

Anyway. I was pretty concerned about this because I do not consider myself much of a celebrity despite being a Hugo Award finalist two times in the same decade. However, my table ended up being full. In attendance: Valerie Valdes, who I had met at some point earlier in the convention (along with her lovely husband, Eric, who chatted my ear off about cinema sound production[3. Eric, you are totally evil for getting me back into Pokemon Go. You monster!]), S.C. Flynn, old friends Evergreen and Gary, Eyal Kless, and a whole lot of other folks! Honestly, I went in feeling very much like an impostor, but left feeling pretty good. For the most part, the conversation wandered into everything from Star Wars to toxic fandom to podcasting to separating the author from their work, etc. I have no idea if that’s how these things are meant to go, but I certainly enjoyed myself.

I ended up grabbing dinner on a boat with Evergreen and Gary, which was lovely, then nabbing beers, socializing, and then towing Jen back to Trinity College. It was a pretty good day.

Day 5 (8/18): The Book of Panels

Ah, Sunday. The big day. The awards day. The day we lost another Hugo Award. Ha!

For the most part, I didn’t get to attend any panels other than my own. There was a lot of sleeping in, eating full Irish breakfasts, socializing, and otherwise keeping our minds focused on being emotional wrecks. For the most part, we succeeded.

The first panel of the day was “Academics and Acolytes: Learning in SFF Worlds,” starring Karen Simpson Nikakis, Kenneth Schneyer, and Ali Baker. We mostly discussed how learning systems function in SF/F narratives, what they get right and wrong, etc. It was pretty fantasy heavy, but I think that’s largely because most narratives with memorable education systems happen to be fantasy narratives. We did have some fun at the end when an audience member asked which school from an SF/F story we’d like to attend. My answer was pretty reasonable:  Starfleet if for no other reason than that my chances of death on campus are remarkably low. Let’s be real:  most schools in fantasy worlds put their students in a lot of danger. I have no idea how any fantasy school manages to have insurance for the premises.

The other panel was simply called “Fan Podcasts,” starring Alexandra Rowland, Jonathan Strahan, Heather Rose Jones (M), and Jen Zink. Unlike a lot of podcast panels I’ve been on, we didn’t focus on all the technical details. Instead, Heather kindly directed us to talk about the trials that go into producing a show, our intentions and desires, and related components. It led to a lot of back-and-forth between the different podcast hosts, each of whom had different perspectives. All in all, it was a solid ending to my panel allotment!

And then the real scary stuff happened! The Skiffy and Fanty Crew got to attend another Hugo Awards ceremony together, beginning with a mini-party-whatsit (which we attended with Eden Royce and her husband, Mark Taylor). Brandon O’Brien, Trish Matson, Julia Rios, and Alex Acks were also in attendance. As far as Hugo Award ceremonies go, this one had quite a few hiccups. The biggest was the closed caption failures that brought about a lot of laughter during Ada Palmer’s award introduction. At first, I did find the inaccurate translations of Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones as “Bored of the Rings” and “Cream of Thrones,” but the more I think about it, the more of a colossal screw-up it turned out to be. Obviously, they put that there for folks who are hard of hearing, but it’s clear that they needed a better system or some other method entirely, especially since the laughter completely disrupted the show. Beyond that, though, I think the awards were perfectly fine. There’s no online stream as far as I can tell, but you can learn about the winners here.

Naturally, we didn’t win. Surprise! But we did get to watch some really phenomenal folks get trophies and light the world on fire with some of their speeches.

After that, we headed to the now-infamous Hugo Losers Party. Infamous for unintended reasons… Much has been said about the issues surrounding the HLP. My voice is among the many, though I am by far the least significant voice. Instead of retreading here, I’ll simply point you to this string of Twitter threads and posts (mine will come last). A couple quick points to note:

The Dublin Worldcon folks are not responsible for the party, though they did put the invitations in finalist packets. Some of the threads tag Dublin 2019 in the mix, but they were minimally involved in the event. This suggests that there is a LOT of confusion about who runs the Hugo Losers Party, who manages things like transportation, etc.

New Zealand’s Worldcon crew are also mentioned in some of these threads. They were involved in the party, though I’m not sure to what degree. I do know that they were at the front doors and contributed, intentionally or otherwise, to the confusion outside. Hopefully, they took a LOT of notes.

There are also likely some inaccuracies in some of these threads, especially those written in the moment or the immediate wake. Again, this speaks to the degree of confusion about the event, who manages it, who said what and when, etc. It also shows just how much confusion there was at the doors. My friends and I honestly had no idea what was going on beyond “it’s full and you can’t get in,” and when we asked questions, we often got conflicting information, no information, or got told something that, in our eyes, seemed wrong (like dumping our +1s at the door like discarded luggage).

While there is a lot of anger in all of this, I don’t think anyone blames those who did attend the event for attending. It wasn’t their party, and they were simply doing what they thought they were allowed to do. More importantly, some of those folks, including convention staff, left when they found out that finalists were being refused entry. They shouldn’t have had to do that, but I appreciate that they chose to do so on our behalf. This is likely the reason Jen Zink and I managed to gain entry (see my thread below for more on that).

GRRM does partly finance and run this shindig, for which I think most people are grateful. Indeed, it’s a nice thing to do. Most of the issues that came up concern how people felt in trying to attend the event and the apparent dismissal of those feelings after the fact. You’ll see that in most of the threads.

Here are some initial reactions (understandably annoyed reactions):

https://twitter.com/katsudonburi/status/1163219408032018432

https://twitter.com/NussbaumAbigail/status/1163369795238223872

GRRM has now responded to some of these thoughts. I recommend you start with Alex Acks’ blog response to that post, which pretty well covers a lot of the major issues surrounding the party and the explanations that followed. Then look at these Twitter threads:

https://twitter.com/LoopdiLou/status/1168215279286898688

https://twitter.com/AlasdairStuart/status/1168519904179490817

https://twitter.com/_vajra/status/1168225748676726791

https://twitter.com/AlexandraErin/status/1168174552087769088

https://twitter.com/D_Libris/status/1168179746787790849

You can read my initial reactions to the party here:

https://twitter.com/shaunduke/status/1163256621985927168

And my post-GRRM explanation reactions here:

https://twitter.com/shaunduke/status/1168168091819421699

https://twitter.com/shaunduke/status/1168276842815639553

These are by no means the only reactions. I am certainly missing quite a few, so if you have suggestions for things to include, please let me know in the comments!

Other than that, the day was a good one. It might have ended awkwardly, but that’s just the way life works sometimes!

Day 6 (8/19):  Worldcon’s Ashes

Monday began with a quick meetup with Tanya DePass. Jen and I interviewed her about I Need Diverse Games and related gaming issues (forthcoming) before joining her for her reading from Game Devs & Others: Tales from the Margins. It was good stuff!

Beyond that, Monday is a bit of a blur. It was the last full day of Jen shenanigans, but she wasn’t feeling well enough to do much more than hang at the convention center. I’m sure I did a lot of socializing there, but I’m just drawing blanks while writing this (sorry).

I do know that we attended the closing ceremony party thing. We procured some bean bags with Gareth Kavanaugh. Ian Sales showed up, and we had a lovely chat about his recent move, making lists of movies where we accuse the other of being totally wrong about their choices, and other fun things. Then we retired…

Day 7 (8/20): Duke’s Travels

With the convention officially over, it was time to say goodbye to some people and get some last-minute Dublin adventures marked off the “to do” list. Jen and I joined Alasdair Stuart and Marguerite Kenner for breakfast as a farewell. They were all leaving relatively early in the day. We had a lovely conversation over burgers and fries, talked genre shenanigans, commiserated over the previous Sunday’s fiasco, babbled about audio production and Netflix shows, etc. It was pretty awesome.

Then we parted ways. I said goodbye to one of my best friends (and two new ones). To be fair, Jen and I are not allowed to be in the same region for more than 6 days due to some pesky international treaties signed between Thailand, the United States, and Poland. So don’t expect us to hang out again soon.

After that, I had the pleasure of joining Juan Sanmiguel (from Orlando’s SF/F fan community). We decided to check out Dublin Castle, which is pretty darn cool (see the pictures), the EPIC museum (also incredible), and Chapters, a massive new and used bookstore in Dublin.[4. I discovered the Antonio Benitez-Rojo wrote novels. Ask me about it some time.] I certainly didn’t get to see as much of the city as I would have liked, but you can’t have it all, right? We ended the evening at J.W. Sweetman, a brewery and pub in the center of Dublin. Yes, I tried all of their beers (in very small glasses).

As I write this, Juan is doing more Dublin things without me.[5. Actually, he’s home now, but I can’t be bothered to keep times accurate.]

Afterwards, I bought some souvenirs and turned in.

Day 8 (8/21): Thy Journey Might Cease

And so it all ended. Here I am writing up a longwinded report on my Worldcon activities from the relative discomfort of an airplane flying at 33,881 feet in -45 C temperatures at nearly 720 KMH. We just crossed the Atlantic and will land in Atlanta or something in a few hours. Be amazed that this is even a thing![7. Remember when I said I wouldn’t keep times accurate? I’m obviously not on a plane anymore, but just imagine that I am because that would mean I’ve been stuck on a plane for over a week!]

All in all, Worldcon was pretty fantastic. Yeah, there were some snafus and the like (and my leg was in extreme pain for most of it), but I met a bunch of folks, caught up with folks I already knew, and got to hang with my bestestest friend, Jen. And I got to see Dublin. It’s hard to complain too much now, right?

With that in mind, I’ll leave it to the Internets. If you attended Worldcon, what did you think? Did you have a good time? What were some of your favorite panel experiences? What did you see in the city that amazed you? Let me know in the comments!

Oh, and for those that like pictures, here you go:

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  And I'm back on the blog talking about stuff. Today's post takes a look at my experiences at Worldcon 77 in Dublin! Enjoy the rambles! I am on my way home from Dublin OR have already arrived. Like science fiction, my future is fundamentally about the present. 

[astralsecrets]

2018-11-18 - Initial dreams for the guide group exercise

Non-lucid – Notes – lucid – Interpretation – wake/dream visuals/visions 2018-11-18 The first of the four dreams occurred during the night, in response/preparation to our dream workshop during the evening and the interpretation round this morning. They occurred in the wake of an Ayahuasca ceremony which took place on the Friday, which for me were heavily themed around (A) the practice of acting/doing what I felt like, risking to provoke and loose standing from my friends and (B) learning to see under and past the emotional pain – that is not staring myself blind at the stuff that is troubling me, without ignoring it either, but allowing myself to see the broader picture. Dream 1: Sexual fantasy turns to voice from beyond, which culminates in a brutal murder and forgiveness of inner children. I am lying in the ceremony room, where a couple of us have gone to bed. Nala and I are starting to make out and she starts inviting to sex. I am thrilled, yet I don’t quite do anything about it. Eventually she calls out to Mads something along the lines “Mads I am trying to have sex with Dennis, but he doesn’t really seem to want to go along.” I quickly respond “Yes, Yes I do” and then we start having sex, she guiding me inside her. The dream then changes. Now there is some darkness and a female voice is calling out to me: “This is karmic, I will meet you in the summer.” I think to myself this pertains to a soulmate or girlfriend to come and I pull her out of the shadows, so that now I am staring at a doll face, that doesn’t seem to have any real facial features except the contours of the doll face and some long blonde hair. I ask her if she can provide additional details of herself, at which point I look at the doll face and see that her cheeks round up a bit. Other than that nothing else happens. I then parcour jump down into the basement, meant for parking cars. There I meet two boys, one is about 4-5 years old another is maybe 7-9. The young boy tells the older “This is where you did me wrong (or: this is where you annihilated me)”. The older doesn’t seem to quite understand, but then the story continues. Then a 12-13 year old guy appears – there is no question that he is a bully and he is much bigger, both taller, more muscular and fatter, he has a distinctly malicious energy about his person - while the two aforementioned remain hidden down behind a corner. The big guys is there to bully and the 7-9 year old then pushes the smaller one out from behind the corner, he seems to blush and turn red around the cheeks while doing so. As the youngest run out the Bully picks him up. As he picks him up he turns into a small baby of 6 months or maybe even smaller as in still a fetus. As soon as he has picked him up he walks over to a railing and slams the head of the youngest down into this railing. Killing him. The youngest looks like a doll and I say something along the lines of “Ah it was a doll”. However then the scenario shifts about and from above the doll is seen lying on the ground, and it is clear that the Bully has killed the youngest fetus/6months old cold blooded. The 7-9 year old is devastated and I am now back in my body and participating in my dream. It is clear to me that my reason for being there is that I must forgive the 7-9 year old, that is the karmic stuff the woman was talking about. I sit down with the guy and we both cry like babies. I don’t think I have ever been so wrecked by guilt, disgust, anger, sorrow and empathy for the guy. It is difficult containing all these ambivalent feelings and focus on forgiving him, yet this is what I sit down with him and do. Dream Ends. Dream 2: Walking through a fairgrounds in the rain. I am outside in a fairgrounds of some description. The atmosphere is holiday-like and I am walking around by myself, though there are many people around. I am walking past playful attractions, like a bouncy castle where I wonder if it is OK I am wearing shoes. I also walk past loads of food outlets – notably fastfood ones, like Sunset Boulevard and McDonald’s – and contemplate buying food, though I don’t in the end. It starts raining, severely. I get drenched in my brown Polo shirt, which I received from a friend of mine about 15-20 years ago. I wonder to myself how I will manage being all drenched and I take off my shoes and find that they are completely soaked in and filled with water as well. Dream Ends: Interlude: Before going into the dreams that followed later this day it is worth while noting a few events that transpired. The reason being that heavy emphasis was placed on sharing and interpreting these above dreams before the following 2 occurred. Thus the following two dreams can be both expressions of the same primarily activated themes, but also responses to the interpretations that were carried out. So I interpreted the first dream as essentially carrying a theme, which is best summarised as the relationship between various inner children. The narrative transformations provide some indications as to what the theme is about, I think. The dream starts out as a sexual fantasy – which is both day residue, as we fell asleep together and both of us apparently experienced fear and confusion as to what the connection was all about, as well as a pinpointing of a challenge I experience in intimate relations (the fear of reaching out, making the first move and committing to expose myself through expressing desire and attraction) – that then transforms to a karmic message “This is about karma, I will meet you in the summer”, which is a dialogue with a “faceless” woman (which carries on a theme of recent where a veiled woman has made herself known, as well a running into “the guy who wants to remain hidden” on the same night in a different dream), which then leads to a display of the killing of the youngest child (4-5 years old, turns into 6 months/fetus) through the brutal action of the 12-13 year old, but guided by the 7-9 year old. The intense emotionality, the supernatural aspects as well as the residual impact leads me to suspect this as a prospective dream, indicating that a dawning realisation of the interrelation between various “sub-programmes”. I suspect this is related to the connection between my fear of intimacy (which was prevalent with Nala) and my fear of promoting myself. The reason I suspect this was that when I was discussing some of the potential meanings of these boys of various ages with Mads on the way back from the weekend the 12 year old reminded me of a time when I had a crush on a girl from my class (Djana), though I never really dared to admit it. I could admit it to myself, but I was afraid of admitting to it publicly, which has been a recurring story ever since. This theme of public displays of affection was actually activated as an element of conscious reflection during the breakfast, where I engaged with Nala in an intimate fashion. So it is as if at least 3 of these 4 inner children are known to me. (1) Fetus//6 months old – pertaining to being abandoned (in the womb through smoking, alcohol consumption and potentially a polluted motivation of wanting to keep a hold on my dad, indicating a dysfunctional relation already then and the traumatic experience at 1,5 months old that I have talked to my mother about) (2) the 4-5 year old (The memory of getting punished for reaching out for food, being shamed and made wrong, as confirmed by my cousin who was in the memory) (3) the 12-14 year old (associated with being afraid to publicly commit to attraction and already at this point in time experiencing difficulty in expressing sexual desire or making the first moves. The 4th (the 7-8 year old) is so far unknown to me (it is the period of my life where I first discovered computer gaming, is the first that springs to mind). In any case the notion around Djana becomes present in one of the following dreams. Dream 3: How can one loose a space ship, well apparently it is because we forget how to look at the stars at night. There is a vista of a city skyline in bright sunlight. I am overlooking this from the water, a river I think. Then a portal opens and a version of the starship Enterprise appears. Then another and another I think of up to 6 or 7 appear. They are all slightly different, with different details around particular the engines, but it is important and it is made known to me that these differences matter, as it is a proof that I am not “just seeing things”. Then an alarm is sounded, or it is made known that we have lost a starship. There is a meeting of various generals from all over the world. Then a question is posed “How is it even spotted when it is hanging out there in the outskirts of the solar system in the darkness?” and an immediate, but also embarrassing answer (because it is so obvious) is posed. “Our allies (a different species) can walk in space and so can easily see spaceships in the darkness”. Then the Iranian general walks out to observe the stars and train his vision, but also do something of some description to retrieve the starship. Dream Ends: Dream 4: At a party, going home early to meet Djana, but is instead greeted by 6-7 aliens looking for Hude Dant – which I recognise as an obvious allusion to Hugh Grant. I am out partying with my friends. I decide to rather quickly return home and here I hope that I will find Djana at home. When I return I notice a small car parking on the other side of the road. It is driven by a woman – who is sitting in shadows and whom I have an awkward feeling about – we have a history and she is somehow connected to picking up Djana or someone else. I walk in and am pleased to find that the doors are open and that there is a light on. I walk in and down to the basement, but can’t find Djana. Instead I find my laptop lying on the sofa. Then a whole bunch of people walk in. I immediately know that they are aliens disguised as humans and that they are somehow connected with the previous spaceships (though I have no explicit memory of the previous dream, in this dream). There are 3-5 of them in the room and they are looking for Hude (or Lube) Dant, but I also know that this is a poor way to cover up that they are looking for Hugh Grant. There is a scenario shift to a driving car with 2 aliens in it, where one has disguised itself as a Dane and another as a Swede. There is a statement that I should keep away from Copenhagen and that there is something funny about this disguised Dane speaking Danish. It is all connected to a greater mission of sorts. Dream Ends: Non-lucid – Notes – lucid – Interpretation – wake/dream visuals/visions

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8297989 https://www.dreamviews.com/blogs/vesterguard/2018-11-18-initial-dreams-guide-group-exercise-85782/

[apexart-journal]

Ga Ram Kim in NYC, Day 3

Thu Oct 11, 2018 - Day 3

copyright © 2018 garamkim

8:30am: bar

Le Cafe Coffee- iced latte ★ ★ ★

Maison Kayser- spinach & cheese croissant: so delicious ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

9:30am: meeting with Tom Keltner in Empire State Realty Trust building

I left my wallet with ID behind at home, because I changed my bag. The security system of the building is quite strict. The receptionist told me coldly, “I don’t know who you are.” And she said that I need to go back home and bring my ID. (I was embarrassed.) Later, she suggested me to call someone in the building. I thought she could ask me more nicely. I phoned Abbie to ask for help. I was almost late for the appointment. (But it turns out the appointment was supposed to be at 10 o’clock.) The office is an open space, only conference rooms are partitioned by the glass walls. Tom was very kind. He is a 72 years old lawyer, who is responsible for leading legal parts in the transaction of Empire State Realty Trust. He was once a U.S. navy after graduating Harvard, and travelled all over the world. Once He wanted to become a fiction writer, he became a lawyer after finishing law school, because he needed a job for living and for family. (I respect his generation & my parent generation, they’ve lived a much more sacrificial life than youngers.) From The American history of geography, his weekend house in Connecticut, his role in the company, to his annual salary, he shared many things. (feat. Google map) I enjoyed the conversation with him during 1 & half hours. (I also talked about myself) It’s heavily raining, so I could not go to the Empire State building, Tom recommended me to go up in other shiny day. (He provides apex-fellows a free entry card)

2pm: Central Park Tour Fortunately, it stopped raining during the tour. There were one senior volunteer and one staff together for tour guiding. I was interested in their way of touring, they showed us pictures with a sketchbook while they explained something. I took some pictures.

6:30pm: ACE Graduation Event ACE: the association of community Empoyment Programs for the Homeless. I attended the ACE graduation ceremony at Long Island city. Here, graduating means, finding full-time employment. Graduates shared their stories while they received the certification. By the way, I was afraid of the way to ACE building from the subway station. It was a dark and lonely road. When I went back, I was almost running to get the station. I did not want to walk alone in that kind of a place especially at night. It’s a threat.

8:30pm: dinner meal Whole foods- tomato soup: good And I had Haagen-Dazs strawberry ice cream pint all by myself. It was a stressful day. Day 3 What I like: spinach & cheese croissant Challenge: muscle pain & Rainy day outdoor activity & walking in a dangerous place

[sliceannarbor]

Duncan Thum

Film Composer/Multi-Instrumentalist Music Producer/Lead Composer Chef’s Table, Netflix original docuseries Los Angeles, California duncanthum.com

Photo by Andrew Quinn

SPECIAL GUEST SERIES

Duncan Thum is a film composer and multi-instrumentalist based in Los Angeles, California. Last year, he was nominated for an Emmy for “Outstanding Music Composition for a Series (Original Dramatic Score)” in the second-season episode of the Netflix original docuseries Chef’s Table featuring Chef Grant Achatz of the acclaimed Alinea in Chicago. In 2015, Duncan was similarly nominated for “Original Dramatic Score” in the first-season episode of Chef’s Table featuring Argentinian Chef Francis Mallmann. He has since scored Chef’s Table: France and the third season of the series. Duncan has worked on a range of features and documentaries, including: I'll Sleep When I'm Dead, Off The Rails, DEALT, and VICE Media's  Broadly. He is a graduate of the University of Southern California’s Scoring for Motion Pictures and Television program. Duncan also earned a bachelor of arts degree in music and humanities from the University of Southern California. In earlier days, he attended Interlochen Arts Academy, earning a diploma in guitar. When Duncan is not working, you can find him outside exploring the flora with Beckett and Finnie, his most trusted canine advisors. He resides in Los Angeles and composes from an attic studio that moonlights as a rare Suzani emporium.

FAVORITES

Book: The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster

Destination: Peru

Film score: Spirited Away, written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki

Motto: Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. - Oscar Wilde

THE QUERY 

Where were you born?

I was born and raised in Berkeley, California. Later my family moved inland to Lafayette, where I lived until high school.

What were some of the passions and pastimes of your earlier years?

I was indoctrinated to the outdoors by my dad at an early age. I don’t think I realized what a profound effect it would have on me until later on. We took many canoe trips in the Boundary Waters, Quetico Provincial Park; and the Bowron Lakes in British Columbia. I think exploration of the wild is one of the most creative and spiritually fulfilling things you can do.

What is your first memory of music as an experience?

Listening to my dad play the piano. It turns out that he has been quite an influential force in my life. My sisters and I would lie under the piano while he played. He has a wide repertoire that ranges from Dave Brubeck to Bach to this amazing tome of traditional songs called The Fireside Book Of Folk Songs. That was my point of introduction to melody.

How did you begin to realize your intrigue with the guitar?

I actually started out on bass and later segued into guitar. I blame David Gilmour’s solo on Dogs for my treasonous defection. Later my obsession would expand to include Django and Paco De Lucia. The final breakthrough was my exposure to the music of South America, Cambodia, and Africa. The expressive possibilities are endless.

When and how did this intrigue segue into scoring music for film?

I started writing a lot of songs and poetry in college. If you made a Venn diagram between songwriting and film composition, there would a high percentage of overlap. Both rely upon the same tropes (form, melody, harmony, instrumentation) to convey emotion. I think the inclination to tell stories with music naturally lead me toward film composition. 

Why does this form of artistic expression suit you?

Words are powerful things. It would take me a lifetime to command and distill their structure and rhythm. I love the abstraction in music; it frees me from certain obstructive thoughts like ‘it’s never good enough.’ I think of sound like an empty vessel that you fill with your emotional experiences, and that is always good enough. I don’t mean to imply that making music is easy, rather the ideas come more naturally. I decided to focus on that aspect and collaborate with those who specialize in other art forms.

What led to your initial work with the Chef’s Table series?

Many of the creative forces behind the show double as great friends from college. When Chef’s Table creator David Gelb exploded his documentary Jiro Dreams Of Sushi into serialized form, he and director Clay Jeter contacted me because they thought I would be a good fit for the Francis Mallmann episode, having seen me perform over the years in my rock and roll band. Anecdotally the name of that band was Pizza!

How has this endeavor shaped your approach to scoring music to film?

There is something Joseph Campbellian about Chef’s Table. The chefs often cross international borders to apprentice, stay away for years, endure intense scrutiny/hardship, return, innovate, and obtain a form of mastery. Their stories blur the lines between food, art, and humanity. By virtue of immersion, my own sense of musical possibility has been tested and transformed.

What was the greatest challenge in achieving the score Fantastic Amalgams for the Chef’s Table episode featuring Chef Grant Achatz?

Most editors will start cutting scenes to temporary music, which the composer will replace after the scene has taken shape. In the case of Grant Achatz, the “temp” featured the music of Arvo Part. I will say that Arvo Part is one of my favorite composers, but the juxtaposition of his intensely reflective brand of minimalism and Grant’s cuisine was an emotional disconnect. The breakthrough was realizing we needed to write music that put this feeling of introspection into context. Grant’s food, while intellectually and technically rigorous in its execution, is all about theatricality, surprise, and emotional discovery. Once we realized that, a musical plan fell into place.

How would you describe your creative process?

The most important part is knowing what your purpose is before you start. I rely heavily upon improvisation and experimentation while I compose, but I find that having a few limitations allows for much more confident brush strokes. Often the mistakes are usable too.

Where do you do most of your composing?

I’m set up in an attic studio outfitted with tapestries from Uzbekistan. It truly evokes an opium den, except William S. Burroughs is nowhere to be found. There are, however, many variations of guitars. I try to keep all of my instruments accessible, as you never know when the mood will strike to use one. The collection ranges from vintage Japanese synthesizers to Greek and Peruvian stringed instruments.

How do you typically get acquainted with the narrative/theme for which you will compose a score?

In the case of the Chef’s Table Francis Mallmann episode, Clay Jeter (the director) and I watched the cut several times and brainstormed. I’m often looking for adjectives as much I am for the milestones in the story arc. The next step is getting your hands dirty. Often the first ideas don’t work, so you have to be patient while they come and go. The theme is always under your nose and will emerge as long as you keep at it.

Is there a project/period along the way that has presented an important learning curve?

It’s safe to say that every project has presented a learning curve of one type or another. The ratio of risk and error may not be proportionate to success, but effort is always enforcing the foundation. I will add that nothing is more horrifying and exciting as starting out fresh. Carte blanche is a very persistent teacher.

What role does collaboration play in your work?

A huge one. Filmmaking is a great example of the Aristotelian cliché, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Amazing things occur when you are bouncing ideas off each other and building upon one another’s insights. It is a conversation.

How has your style/aesthetic evolved over the years?

Oddly enough, I think I have come full circle. The styles of music I once rejected in my angsty years are what I spend most of my time writing now. I suppose I just needed to collect enough life to be able to appreciate where I started, musically speaking. I wouldn’t change a detail, though, as every moment counts.

Is there a composer living today that you admire most?

Joe Hisaishi.

Do you have an artistic resource that you turn to? 

I would love to take this opportunity to plug BrainPickings by Maria Popova. It’s a goldmine. https://www.brainpickings.org/surprise/

What music do you listen to in your down time?

The last three items on my YouTube playlist are Kaneda’s Theme from Akira, Sia’s Chandelier, and Claude Bolling’s Suite for Flute and Jazz Piano Trio. The latter is performed by Nikola Todor Atanasov, whom I studied with at Interlochen Arts Academy. He’s now the principal flutist with the Beijing Symphony Orchestra and makes an occasional cameo on Chef’s Table.

From where do you draw inspiration?

Often times it comes from not doing what you set out to do. I am guilty of overlooking this 98 percent of the time.

Who are some of your artistic influences?

Cai Guo-Qiang’s work has been very inspirational of late, as has Katherine Johnson’s for NASA. The Coen Brothers always get to me. Bill Watterson. Shigeru Miyamoto. Albert Camus. Alex North. Charlie Mingus.  

What three things can’t you live without?

Laughter, love, light.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

Get out of the way!

Is there a book or film that has changed you?

Seeing Akira Kurosawa’s Dreams was a life changing experience for me. Anytime it rains when the sun is shining, I think ‘fox wedding.’

What drives you these days?

When you think everything is someone else's fault, you will suffer a lot. - Dalai Lama

[astralsecrets]

2018-11-18 - Initial dreams for the guide group exercise

Non-lucid – Notes – lucid – Interpretation – wake/dream visuals/visions 2018-11-18 The first of the four dreams occurred during the night, in response/preparation to our dream workshop during the evening and the interpretation round this morning. They occurred in the wake of an Ayahuasca ceremony which took place on the Friday, which for me were heavily themed around (A) the practice of acting/doing what I felt like, risking to provoke and loose standing from my friends and (B) learning to see under and past the emotional pain – that is not staring myself blind at the stuff that is troubling me, without ignoring it either, but allowing myself to see the broader picture. Dream 1: Sexual fantasy turns to voice from beyond, which culminates in a brutal murder and forgiveness of inner children. I am lying in the ceremony room, where a couple of us have gone to bed. Nala and I are starting to make out and she starts inviting to sex. I am thrilled, yet I don’t quite do anything about it. Eventually she calls out to Mads something along the lines “Mads I am trying to have sex with Dennis, but he doesn’t really seem to want to go along.” I quickly respond “Yes, Yes I do” and then we start having sex, she guiding me inside her. The dream then changes. Now there is some darkness and a female voice is calling out to me: “This is karmic, I will meet you in the summer.” I think to myself this pertains to a soulmate or girlfriend to come and I pull her out of the shadows, so that now I am staring at a doll face, that doesn’t seem to have any real facial features except the contours of the doll face and some long blonde hair. I ask her if she can provide additional details of herself, at which point I look at the doll face and see that her cheeks round up a bit. Other than that nothing else happens. I then parcour jump down into the basement, meant for parking cars. There I meet two boys, one is about 4-5 years old another is maybe 7-9. The young boy tells the older “This is where you did me wrong (or: this is where you annihilated me)”. The older doesn’t seem to quite understand, but then the story continues. Then a 12-13 year old guy appears – there is no question that he is a bully and he is much bigger, both taller, more muscular and fatter, he has a distinctly malicious energy about his person - while the two aforementioned remain hidden down behind a corner. The big guys is there to bully and the 7-9 year old then pushes the smaller one out from behind the corner, he seems to blush and turn red around the cheeks while doing so. As the youngest run out the Bully picks him up. As he picks him up he turns into a small baby of 6 months or maybe even smaller as in still a fetus. As soon as he has picked him up he walks over to a railing and slams the head of the youngest down into this railing. Killing him. The youngest looks like a doll and I say something along the lines of “Ah it was a doll”. However then the scenario shifts about and from above the doll is seen lying on the ground, and it is clear that the Bully has killed the youngest fetus/6months old cold blooded. The 7-9 year old is devastated and I am now back in my body and participating in my dream. It is clear to me that my reason for being there is that I must forgive the 7-9 year old, that is the karmic stuff the woman was talking about. I sit down with the guy and we both cry like babies. I don’t think I have ever been so wrecked by guilt, disgust, anger, sorrow and empathy for the guy. It is difficult containing all these ambivalent feelings and focus on forgiving him, yet this is what I sit down with him and do. Dream Ends. Dream 2: Walking through a fairgrounds in the rain. I am outside in a fairgrounds of some description. The atmosphere is holiday-like and I am walking around by myself, though there are many people around. I am walking past playful attractions, like a bouncy castle where I wonder if it is OK I am wearing shoes. I also walk past loads of food outlets – notably fastfood ones, like Sunset Boulevard and McDonald’s – and contemplate buying food, though I don’t in the end. It starts raining, severely. I get drenched in my brown Polo shirt, which I received from a friend of mine about 15-20 years ago. I wonder to myself how I will manage being all drenched and I take off my shoes and find that they are completely soaked in and filled with water as well. Dream Ends: Interlude: Before going into the dreams that followed later this day it is worth while noting a few events that transpired. The reason being that heavy emphasis was placed on sharing and interpreting these above dreams before the following 2 occurred. Thus the following two dreams can be both expressions of the same primarily activated themes, but also responses to the interpretations that were carried out. So I interpreted the first dream as essentially carrying a theme, which is best summarised as the relationship between various inner children. The narrative transformations provide some indications as to what the theme is about, I think. The dream starts out as a sexual fantasy – which is both day residue, as we fell asleep together and both of us apparently experienced fear and confusion as to what the connection was all about, as well as a pinpointing of a challenge I experience in intimate relations (the fear of reaching out, making the first move and committing to expose myself through expressing desire and attraction) – that then transforms to a karmic message “This is about karma, I will meet you in the summer”, which is a dialogue with a “faceless” woman (which carries on a theme of recent where a veiled woman has made herself known, as well a running into “the guy who wants to remain hidden” on the same night in a different dream), which then leads to a display of the killing of the youngest child (4-5 years old, turns into 6 months/fetus) through the brutal action of the 12-13 year old, but guided by the 7-9 year old. The intense emotionality, the supernatural aspects as well as the residual impact leads me to suspect this as a prospective dream, indicating that a dawning realisation of the interrelation between various “sub-programmes”. I suspect this is related to the connection between my fear of intimacy (which was prevalent with Nala) and my fear of promoting myself. The reason I suspect this was that when I was discussing some of the potential meanings of these boys of various ages with Mads on the way back from the weekend the 12 year old reminded me of a time when I had a crush on a girl from my class (Djana), though I never really dared to admit it. I could admit it to myself, but I was afraid of admitting to it publicly, which has been a recurring story ever since. This theme of public displays of affection was actually activated as an element of conscious reflection during the breakfast, where I engaged with Nala in an intimate fashion. So it is as if at least 3 of these 4 inner children are known to me. (1) Fetus//6 months old – pertaining to being abandoned (in the womb through smoking, alcohol consumption and potentially a polluted motivation of wanting to keep a hold on my dad, indicating a dysfunctional relation already then and the traumatic experience at 1,5 months old that I have talked to my mother about) (2) the 4-5 year old (The memory of getting punished for reaching out for food, being shamed and made wrong, as confirmed by my cousin who was in the memory) (3) the 12-14 year old (associated with being afraid to publicly commit to attraction and already at this point in time experiencing difficulty in expressing sexual desire or making the first moves. The 4th (the 7-8 year old) is so far unknown to me (it is the period of my life where I first discovered computer gaming, is the first that springs to mind). In any case the notion around Djana becomes present in one of the following dreams. Dream 3: How can one loose a space ship, well apparently it is because we forget how to look at the stars at night. There is a vista of a city skyline in bright sunlight. I am overlooking this from the water, a river I think. Then a portal opens and a version of the starship Enterprise appears. Then another and another I think of up to 6 or 7 appear. They are all slightly different, with different details around particular the engines, but it is important and it is made known to me that these differences matter, as it is a proof that I am not “just seeing things”. Then an alarm is sounded, or it is made known that we have lost a starship. There is a meeting of various generals from all over the world. Then a question is posed “How is it even spotted when it is hanging out there in the outskirts of the solar system in the darkness?” and an immediate, but also embarrassing answer (because it is so obvious) is posed. “Our allies (a different species) can walk in space and so can easily see spaceships in the darkness”. Then the Iranian general walks out to observe the stars and train his vision, but also do something of some description to retrieve the starship. Dream Ends: Dream 4: At a party, going home early to meet Djana, but is instead greeted by 6-7 aliens looking for Hude Dant – which I recognise as an obvious allusion to Hugh Grant. I am out partying with my friends. I decide to rather quickly return home and here I hope that I will find Djana at home. When I return I notice a small car parking on the other side of the road. It is driven by a woman – who is sitting in shadows and whom I have an awkward feeling about – we have a history and she is somehow connected to picking up Djana or someone else. I walk in and am pleased to find that the doors are open and that there is a light on. I walk in and down to the basement, but can’t find Djana. Instead I find my laptop lying on the sofa. Then a whole bunch of people walk in. I immediately know that they are aliens disguised as humans and that they are somehow connected with the previous spaceships (though I have no explicit memory of the previous dream, in this dream). There are 3-5 of them in the room and they are looking for Hude (or Lube) Dant, but I also know that this is a poor way to cover up that they are looking for Hugh Grant. There is a scenario shift to a driving car with 2 aliens in it, where one has disguised itself as a Dane and another as a Swede. There is a statement that I should keep away from Copenhagen and that there is something funny about this disguised Dane speaking Danish. It is all connected to a greater mission of sorts. Dream Ends: Non-lucid – Notes – lucid – Interpretation – wake/dream visuals/visions

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8297989 https://www.dreamviews.com/blogs/vesterguard/2018-11-18-initial-dreams-guide-group-exercise-85782/

[astralsecrets]

2018-11-18 - Initial dreams for the guide group exercise

Non-lucid – Notes – lucid – Interpretation – wake/dream visuals/visions 2018-11-18 The first of the four dreams occurred during the night, in response/preparation to our dream workshop during the evening and the interpretation round this morning. They occurred in the wake of an Ayahuasca ceremony which took place on the Friday, which for me were heavily themed around (A) the practice of acting/doing what I felt like, risking to provoke and loose standing from my friends and (B) learning to see under and past the emotional pain – that is not staring myself blind at the stuff that is troubling me, without ignoring it either, but allowing myself to see the broader picture. Dream 1: Sexual fantasy turns to voice from beyond, which culminates in a brutal murder and forgiveness of inner children. I am lying in the ceremony room, where a couple of us have gone to bed. Nala and I are starting to make out and she starts inviting to sex. I am thrilled, yet I don’t quite do anything about it. Eventually she calls out to Mads something along the lines “Mads I am trying to have sex with Dennis, but he doesn’t really seem to want to go along.” I quickly respond “Yes, Yes I do” and then we start having sex, she guiding me inside her. The dream then changes. Now there is some darkness and a female voice is calling out to me: “This is karmic, I will meet you in the summer.” I think to myself this pertains to a soulmate or girlfriend to come and I pull her out of the shadows, so that now I am staring at a doll face, that doesn’t seem to have any real facial features except the contours of the doll face and some long blonde hair. I ask her if she can provide additional details of herself, at which point I look at the doll face and see that her cheeks round up a bit. Other than that nothing else happens. I then parcour jump down into the basement, meant for parking cars. There I meet two boys, one is about 4-5 years old another is maybe 7-9. The young boy tells the older “This is where you did me wrong (or: this is where you annihilated me)”. The older doesn’t seem to quite understand, but then the story continues. Then a 12-13 year old guy appears – there is no question that he is a bully and he is much bigger, both taller, more muscular and fatter, he has a distinctly malicious energy about his person - while the two aforementioned remain hidden down behind a corner. The big guys is there to bully and the 7-9 year old then pushes the smaller one out from behind the corner, he seems to blush and turn red around the cheeks while doing so. As the youngest run out the Bully picks him up. As he picks him up he turns into a small baby of 6 months or maybe even smaller as in still a fetus. As soon as he has picked him up he walks over to a railing and slams the head of the youngest down into this railing. Killing him. The youngest looks like a doll and I say something along the lines of “Ah it was a doll”. However then the scenario shifts about and from above the doll is seen lying on the ground, and it is clear that the Bully has killed the youngest fetus/6months old cold blooded. The 7-9 year old is devastated and I am now back in my body and participating in my dream. It is clear to me that my reason for being there is that I must forgive the 7-9 year old, that is the karmic stuff the woman was talking about. I sit down with the guy and we both cry like babies. I don’t think I have ever been so wrecked by guilt, disgust, anger, sorrow and empathy for the guy. It is difficult containing all these ambivalent feelings and focus on forgiving him, yet this is what I sit down with him and do. Dream Ends. Dream 2: Walking through a fairgrounds in the rain. I am outside in a fairgrounds of some description. The atmosphere is holiday-like and I am walking around by myself, though there are many people around. I am walking past playful attractions, like a bouncy castle where I wonder if it is OK I am wearing shoes. I also walk past loads of food outlets – notably fastfood ones, like Sunset Boulevard and McDonald’s – and contemplate buying food, though I don’t in the end. It starts raining, severely. I get drenched in my brown Polo shirt, which I received from a friend of mine about 15-20 years ago. I wonder to myself how I will manage being all drenched and I take off my shoes and find that they are completely soaked in and filled with water as well. Dream Ends: Interlude: Before going into the dreams that followed later this day it is worth while noting a few events that transpired. The reason being that heavy emphasis was placed on sharing and interpreting these above dreams before the following 2 occurred. Thus the following two dreams can be both expressions of the same primarily activated themes, but also responses to the interpretations that were carried out. So I interpreted the first dream as essentially carrying a theme, which is best summarised as the relationship between various inner children. The narrative transformations provide some indications as to what the theme is about, I think. The dream starts out as a sexual fantasy – which is both day residue, as we fell asleep together and both of us apparently experienced fear and confusion as to what the connection was all about, as well as a pinpointing of a challenge I experience in intimate relations (the fear of reaching out, making the first move and committing to expose myself through expressing desire and attraction) – that then transforms to a karmic message “This is about karma, I will meet you in the summer”, which is a dialogue with a “faceless” woman (which carries on a theme of recent where a veiled woman has made herself known, as well a running into “the guy who wants to remain hidden” on the same night in a different dream), which then leads to a display of the killing of the youngest child (4-5 years old, turns into 6 months/fetus) through the brutal action of the 12-13 year old, but guided by the 7-9 year old. The intense emotionality, the supernatural aspects as well as the residual impact leads me to suspect this as a prospective dream, indicating that a dawning realisation of the interrelation between various “sub-programmes”. I suspect this is related to the connection between my fear of intimacy (which was prevalent with Nala) and my fear of promoting myself. The reason I suspect this was that when I was discussing some of the potential meanings of these boys of various ages with Mads on the way back from the weekend the 12 year old reminded me of a time when I had a crush on a girl from my class (Djana), though I never really dared to admit it. I could admit it to myself, but I was afraid of admitting to it publicly, which has been a recurring story ever since. This theme of public displays of affection was actually activated as an element of conscious reflection during the breakfast, where I engaged with Nala in an intimate fashion. So it is as if at least 3 of these 4 inner children are known to me. (1) Fetus//6 months old – pertaining to being abandoned (in the womb through smoking, alcohol consumption and potentially a polluted motivation of wanting to keep a hold on my dad, indicating a dysfunctional relation already then and the traumatic experience at 1,5 months old that I have talked to my mother about) (2) the 4-5 year old (The memory of getting punished for reaching out for food, being shamed and made wrong, as confirmed by my cousin who was in the memory) (3) the 12-14 year old (associated with being afraid to publicly commit to attraction and already at this point in time experiencing difficulty in expressing sexual desire or making the first moves. The 4th (the 7-8 year old) is so far unknown to me (it is the period of my life where I first discovered computer gaming, is the first that springs to mind). In any case the notion around Djana becomes present in one of the following dreams. Dream 3: How can one loose a space ship, well apparently it is because we forget how to look at the stars at night. There is a vista of a city skyline in bright sunlight. I am overlooking this from the water, a river I think. Then a portal opens and a version of the starship Enterprise appears. Then another and another I think of up to 6 or 7 appear. They are all slightly different, with different details around particular the engines, but it is important and it is made known to me that these differences matter, as it is a proof that I am not “just seeing things”. Then an alarm is sounded, or it is made known that we have lost a starship. There is a meeting of various generals from all over the world. Then a question is posed “How is it even spotted when it is hanging out there in the outskirts of the solar system in the darkness?” and an immediate, but also embarrassing answer (because it is so obvious) is posed. “Our allies (a different species) can walk in space and so can easily see spaceships in the darkness”. Then the Iranian general walks out to observe the stars and train his vision, but also do something of some description to retrieve the starship. Dream Ends: Dream 4: At a party, going home early to meet Djana, but is instead greeted by 6-7 aliens looking for Hude Dant – which I recognise as an obvious allusion to Hugh Grant. I am out partying with my friends. I decide to rather quickly return home and here I hope that I will find Djana at home. When I return I notice a small car parking on the other side of the road. It is driven by a woman – who is sitting in shadows and whom I have an awkward feeling about – we have a history and she is somehow connected to picking up Djana or someone else. I walk in and am pleased to find that the doors are open and that there is a light on. I walk in and down to the basement, but can’t find Djana. Instead I find my laptop lying on the sofa. Then a whole bunch of people walk in. I immediately know that they are aliens disguised as humans and that they are somehow connected with the previous spaceships (though I have no explicit memory of the previous dream, in this dream). There are 3-5 of them in the room and they are looking for Hude (or Lube) Dant, but I also know that this is a poor way to cover up that they are looking for Hugh Grant. There is a scenario shift to a driving car with 2 aliens in it, where one has disguised itself as a Dane and another as a Swede. There is a statement that I should keep away from Copenhagen and that there is something funny about this disguised Dane speaking Danish. It is all connected to a greater mission of sorts. Dream Ends: Non-lucid – Notes – lucid – Interpretation – wake/dream visuals/visions

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8297989 https://www.dreamviews.com/blogs/vesterguard/2018-11-18-initial-dreams-guide-group-exercise-85782/