#and then there was a group with the Australian flag in the crowd too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lnfours · 4 months ago

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us. | l.n

summary: and what seemed like fate becomes "what the hell was i doin'?" ; aka time heals all wounds, so they say, but has it been long enough for it to heal the one he left?

warnings: the highly requested part two to ‘august’, use of she/her pronouns, childhood friends to lovers, second chance romance, oscar giving lando advice bc duh, pining, language, lando absolutely word vomiting when it comes to his feelings, fluff towards the end.

‘august’ | listen | masterlist

oscar piastri took pride in being more observant rather than being the life of the party. he much rather preferred to be labeled as the 'wall hugger' rather than the wild child between him and his teammate. he let lando have that role, opting on sitting on the sidelines more often than not.

but tonight, it was completely different. the aussie driver had agreed to hitting the club in monaco tonight to celebrate charles' first home win and his own second place finish. he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going on with his teammate, eyeing him as he sat down in the lounge area the group had gotten for the evening. something out of the normal for the brit.

he decided to take matters into his own hands, joining his friend on the couch. lando sent a tight lipped smile to his teammate, another red flag the aussie picked up on. he wasn't sporting his usual smile, the one that beamed. one of pure joy.

"you feeling alright, mate?" oscar asked, genuinely concerned.

lando nodded in response, "'m good, just a bit tired."

he hummed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked out at the dance floor of people. the crowd normally lando would be in the middle of, but not tonight.

"gonna make me pry it out of you or are you just gonna tell me?"

lando chuckled softly, letting out a soft sigh, "y'know that new reporter for sky who was in the media pen earlier?"

oscar furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, trying to remember your name, "think so? shit, what was her name?"

"y/n," lando said and oscar nodded in agreement.

"yeah, that's it," the aussie turned back to look at his teammate, "what about her?"

"well, a few years ago, her and i kind of..." lando trailed off, leaving his teammate to raise his eyebrows.

"you two had a thing?"

lando nodded, "yeah, she had a vacation rental next to mine in the states, and one summer we just really hit it off. y'know, we went on dates and eventually it turned into something more, and... oscar, i was in love with her."

the australian was shocked, "did you tell her?"

"i did," lando nodded, swallowing before continuing, "and i was with her when i got the call that they wanted me to join the team, and i just... i fucking left. i left without waking her up and saying goodbye. the best few months of my entire life, falling in love with someone who has never made me feel more loved and appreciated, and it all went down the drain because i fucked it all up."

oscar sat in silence for a minute, processing what the brit next to him had just told him, "well, do you still love her?"

"i never stopped," lando looked over at his teammate, his expression showing the guilt he still felt for leaving that one night, "i don't think i could ever."

"have you told her?"

he shook his head, "pretty sure she hates my guts, so, no."

oscar sighed, "listen, although she has every reason to hate you, i mean, i would too, doesn't mean deep down that she does. obviously, running into you again has probably brought up all of those feelings she worked to get over, but if you really feel the way you're telling me you feel about her, and it seems like you do, you gotta fight for it. you can't just let her slip through your fingers, again, and live a miserable life. nothing's gonna come out of it if you don't work for it."

lando sat in shock at his teammate, blinking at him like a deer in headlights. he had never known oscar to be this wise when it comes to relationship advice. he truly didn't know he had it in him.

"what?" the aussie laughed, "mate, i've been with lily for five years. you think we haven't had our own fair share of ups and downs?"

"no, i'm just amazed that at your age you're so wise." lando joked back, the two of them laughing.

"yeah, whatever," oscar waved him off, "but seriously, i mean what i said."

he nodded, "i know, i just don't know when i should talk to her."

oscar shrugged, "the sooner the better. that way you stop moping around like a sad, lost puppy."

lando jokingly rolled his eyes, pulling his phone from his pocket, "shut up."

his heart hammered in his chest at the thought of messaging you, opening instagram. but, just when he went to open his messages, your profile picture caught his eye at the top of the screen. he tapped onto the story you had posted not long ago, holding it down so it wouldn't disappear as he scanned over the picture.

you were still at the track, posting a picture from one of the offices. a video from your interviews today sitting on the screen, clear that you had stayed late to finish working on them. a caption written out on the photo.

'in desperate need of another cup of coffee'

he was up on his feet before he could even think through what he was about to do. shoving his phone in his pocket as oscar smiled at him softly.

"where're you heading?"

lando turned, walking backwards away from the lounge area, shouting over the bass of the club music playing loudly through the speakers, "'m feeling like having a cup of coffee! thanks for your help, osc!"

oscar raised his glass in a cheers motion to his teammate, watching him turn around and make a beeline for the exit. lily found her way to the lounge area, sitting next to her boyfriend and jabbing her thumb over her shoulder, motioning towards his teammate.

"where's he heading?"

oscar smiled, swallowing the sip of his drink, "going to get his girl."

the night breeze in the monaco air felt nice on lando's skin, a contrast against the overly warm club he had been in. he pulled his phone out once again, searching for a coffee shop that would still be open at this hour. he found one that looked promising after a few minutes of searching, putting in the directions to it and taking off in the direction.

he ignored the hammering of his heart in his chest as he carefully placed the cup in the holders of his car. was it the best idea to show up unannounced with a coffee in hand, especially when he wasn't sure how you felt about him? probably not. but after the conversation with oscar, all he could think about was how he couldn't lose you again. how even after searching for someone to fill the ache in his heart that was put there by his own doing, no one could compare to you. they couldn't ever be you, even if they tried or if he tried to make it work. it wasn't the same.

he parked the car, heading towards the building he knew all the journalists worked in. some of them still hanging around, sending lando smiles but confusion clear in their eyes as his eyes scanned the room.

"do you know where y/n is?" he asked an older man, a guy he had recognized to be your camera man from earlier. the man nodded, pointing towards the room with glass walls. he could see you in the room, your back facing the door. headphones sitting on top of your head, clearly invested in your work. he swallowed nervously, thanking the man before heading towards the room.

you hadn't noticed he entered the room until a hand placing a coffee next to you caught your attention. you slipped the headphones off, placing them on the desk before turning to see who was standing behind you.

he met your eyes, which were also laced with confusion as you spun around in your chair. he sent you a small, nervous smile. the same smile you had given him in the media pen hours ago.

"lando? what're you doing here?" you asked, "and how did you.."

he smiled softly, "saw your story."

"what is it?" you asked, moving to grab the warm cup, "i mean, i like my coffee-"

"with light cream and two and a half sugars. the pink packets, though, not the white ones."

your heart squeezed in your chest, he remembered the way you liked your coffee.

you took a sip of the warm liquid, tasting exactly the way you liked it. you took in a deep breath, meeting his green eyes once again and you swore you were slowly falling in love with him again. it was like you were back at the beach house, back at the exact moment you had realized you were in love with him.

maybe the feelings you thought had gone away after the years weren't truly gone.

your lipstick left a pretty mark on the white lid and he scanned your facial features. in the dim lighting you were still as gorgeous as the day he met you, pretty colored eyes that complimented the color of the strands of your hair. a pair of glasses sitting comfortably on your face, remembering that you only wore them when your eyes were starting to get irritated after a long day.

your voice was soft, "lando, what're you doing here?" you asked again, still confused on why he had come, "i mean, other than dropping off a coffee, which thank you for, by the way, but shouldn't you be out with the rest of the drivers? y'know, celebrating..?"

"well, i was," lando breathed, ignoring how it came out a little shaky, “but, to be honest, i just.. really want to talk to you.”

everything he rehearsed in his head during the driver over here was going out the window with each passing second. the longer he looked in your eyes the more he wished he had never walked out of that house all those years ago. the more it was eating him up inside that he let the best thing he ever had go, that he never told you why.

you sighed, pointing over your shoulder to the screen behind you, “i really have to finish this,”

“it’ll be quick,” he was almost begging. about to get on his knees if he had to, “promise.”

you nodded, your brain yelling at you for agreeing but your heart almost leaping out of your chest at the fact that he was here. standing in front of you. right now. when he could’ve been at the club, wrapped around some other girl. but he wasn’t.

“okay, just, let me grab my things.”

he nodded, biting down on his lower lip nervously as you saved your work and exited out of the editing software. you packed up everything in your bag, pushing the chair in before grabbing your coffee from the desk.

he held out his hand, “here,”

you furrowed your eyebrows in response. he motioned to the bag and you smiled softly, “oh, thanks,”

he nodded, letting you lead him out of the office. you said goodnight to the crew that was left, not batting an eye at the looks they gave you for having the, arguably, most sought out driver on the grid tailing behind you.

once you were outside, he walked next to you. matching your pace as he looked over at you, “so, uhm, how’re they treating you at sky?”

you nodded, “good,” you smiled softly, “didn’t expect i’d work in the same sport as you, to be honest.”

“you’re telling me you didn’t follow me here to make me realize i’ve been missing out all this time?” he joked and you laughed, shoving his shoulder with yours.

“shut it,”

“sorry, too soon?”

you chuckled, “forever might be too soon.”

he chuckled with you, unlocking the doors to the mclaren. he opened the passenger side door, letting you sit down in the seat. you took your bag from him and smiled, a silent thank you, before he closed the door for you and rounded the front of the car to get in on his side. he started the car, looking back over at you, "hungry?"

you hummed, "starving."

"perfect," he said, putting in the directions for a place he knew you'd like. you rubbed your lips together nervously, watching the monaco lights pass by you. the breeze was nice, something you could get used to.

you cut through the silence that fell over the two of you, speaking over the soft music he had put on for the drive, "so, what did you want to talk about?"

he looked over at you, the red of the stoplight illuminating his face. he had grown into his features, but the boyish things about him was what you loved. the way his dimples deepened the wider his smile was, the moles and freckles that littered his skin like stars, and you had noticed the small scar on the bridge of his nose. one that wasn't there years prior, but you had grown to love. you silently hoped he'd tell you the story sometime. wanting to know every detail of his life the past few years, the years you spent watching from the sidelines.

"about what happened," he said, the light turning green and his attention fixing back to the road, continuing to drive, "i feel like i owe you a very long, detailed, explanation."

you nodded as he pulled into a parking lot, "okay, yeah," you breathed out softly, "sure."

he parked the car, turning the engine off before looking back at you. you turned to face him, giving him a soft smile as he looked at you, eyes dancing around your face before he took a deep breath.

"listen, i know it's been a while and i really wouldn't blame you if you hate my guts, but i just... can't. i can't pretend that i've lived in a world i'm completely satisfied with. and i can't bring myself to fall in love with someone else because no matter what, i find myself wishing i was with you, at that stupid beach house where i first felt what love truly felt like."

you sat in silence, taking in his rambling thoughts. this conversation definitely wasn't going as well as he had rehearsed it in his head, but it was too late to turn back now. he was sitting here, spewing every emotion he's felt over the past couple of years in front of you. it's how he truly felt. no filter, no hoops to jump through, just pure emotion and longing and hints of regret, and true apologies.

"you're the first thing i think of when i wake up and the last thing i think of before i go to bed, and hell, sometimes i even find you in my dreams because for a while that was the only place where you and i co-existed. and i'm so fucking sorry for how i left you, how i packed up and moved on with my life without even considering how you would feel. it makes me sick to my stomach to think about the fact that i've fucked up the part of my life that felt normal. that felt real, and all because i was too much of a coward to tell you what was going on. too scared to drag you into all of this,"

he was still rambling and you couldn't help the way your heart hammered against your chest. the moment you had wished for all these years finally unfolding in front of your eyes and you couldn't help the tears that were starting to prick your eyes.

"but now, you're here, and i'm here, and... holy fuck i'm still so in love with you."

his throat bobbed, swallowing down the nerves as you watched him. you were speechless, unsure how to respond to everything he had just spewed to you. your heart was caught in your throat, the tears closer to spilling over after his rambling. he had said everything he was feeling and little did he know it was the same way you had been feeling too.

after every wish and journal entry wishing he'd waltz back into your life, he finally was here. sitting across from you, and now you were speechless. unable to find the words to tell him you felt the same way.

"i'm sorry," he mumbled, looking away and straight ahead of him, almost as if he was embarrassed to spring all of that onto you, "that was a lot all at once, i'm sorry-"

you leaned over the center console, grabbing his face in your hands, turning him to face you and smashing your lips against his. the tears falling down now at the feeling of having him this close again. the familiar feeling of having his lips on yours again being enough to send them dripping down and onto your shirt.

he was quick to kiss you back, as soon as the initial shock wore off. his hand moving to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss as you grabbed his shirt in your fist, not wanting to let go after he had been away from you all this time.

he pulled away when he needed to catch his breath, forehead resting against yours. you smiled softly, the two of you panting breathless and in love. he brought his thumb up to your cheek, wiping away the few stray tears that were still lingering. you leaned into his touch and he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"i love you," you breathed, nose bumping his, "so much. i never stopped, even after you left."

he smiled, his voice soft, "i'll spend a lifetime making it up to you."

you shook your head, "it doesn't matter. you're here now, that's all that matters."

"can i start with dinner?" he asked, smiling softly and brushing a piece of hair from your face. you hummed and nodded, pulling away from him as he got out of the car, jogging to open your door. you smiled and placed a quick kiss to his lips, joining your hands together. he walked with you into the restaurant, and as he opened the door for you all he could think about how he was the luckiest man on earth.

there was no way he was letting you again. you were incomparable. chemical.

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headcanonsandmore · 1 year ago

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Pride 🏳‍🌈

Summary: Yasmin Khan is feeling a little down this June. Luckily for her, she's got a community of people around to support her. Happy Pride, everyone!

Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~~

Yasmin Khan sighed, and stretched out on the sofa.

It was now June; it was just over a year since she had returned to life on Earth, and she was slowly starting to grow used to normal life. She hadn’t returned to her previous job; instead, she’d been promised a free-lance post by Kate Stewart. Apparently, U.N.I.T wanted people with experience dealing with extra-terrestrial affairs.

Yaz supposed that description fitted her well. In more ways than one.

She was enjoying living in London, though; granted, it was a marked departure from Sheffield, but the place wasn’t all bad. The group that Graham had helped set up the previous year had gone from strength to strength, and Yaz was enjoying the support of other people who had been through similar experiences as her.

Maybe not exactly the same. She already knew that most people who had travelled in the TARDIS weren’t… well, didn’t have the same sort of relationship with a certain time lord as Yaz had done.

Martha Jones had been a great help. Not only had she helped Yaz work through some of her grief (helped by the other people from the support group) but she had also had Yaz move in as her roommate.

It was a nice flat too; granted, it was a little strange not to live somewhere without her mum and dad poking their heads through her door, but Yaz had started to really enjoy it.

Even if her heart still clenched a bit whenever she saw a packet of custard creams.

She missed the Doctor. Her Doctor. Maybe she always would.

Knock. Knock.

Yaz frowned. Martha had her key on her, and she wasn’t expecting any visitors. She got up and walked down the corridor to the front door.

‘Oy!’ came a familiar voice. ‘AA here; c’mon, let me in!’

Yaz smiled, bemused. Ace McShane had started styling herself as “AA” to Yaz (short from “Auntie Ace”) and, while Yaz already had enough aunts as it was, she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Yaz opened the door.

‘Heya!’ declared Ace, thumping Yaz on the shoulder as she barged into the flat. ‘Don’t worry; we brought the correct snacks this time. No custard creams in sight!’

‘What?’ Yaz said, weakly, as what seemed to be half the companion support group followed Ace through the door. ‘How- why are you all-’

‘Listen, I know you said you didn’t want to go to Pride this year,’ Ace said, grinning widely. ‘You didn’t want to deal with the crowds. So we brought Pride to you!’

Sure enough, most of them were festooned in rainbow flags of various types. Dan was even wearing a loud rainbow wig as he grinned at Yaz.

‘Ace…’ Tegan Jovanka said, eyes narrowing. ‘I thought you said Yaz was expecting us.’

‘Well… she is now,’ Ace replied, shrinking a little under the Australian’s glare. ‘Same difference, really…’

‘I swear to goodness…’ Tegan sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose, before turning and placing her other hand softly on Yaz’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Yaz; we won’t force you to celebrate it if you don’t want to.’

Yaz smiled at the older woman. Tegan was definitely something of an aunt to her now as well, although she had so far avoided using any nicknames.

‘Ta, Tegan, but I think I probably could do with some moral support about now. Happy Pride, ‘n all that.’

‘Great!’ Ace said, bouncing cheerfully on her heels. ‘Right; into the living room, everyone!’

‘Cool,’ Yaz replied. ‘Be w’you in a mo; just grabbing some stuff from m’room.’

She headed along the corridor and entered her room. She grabbed a few CDs, a couple of rainbow flags, and some of her favourite queer films.

‘You sure you’re okay, Sheffield?’

Dan was stood in the doorway, having removed his rainbow wig.

‘Thanks, Dan,’ Yaz said. ‘But I really am fine. I was feeling a bit mardy by myself today; you lot arrived at the perfect time.’

‘Great,’ the Scouser replied, smiling widely. ‘You think this wig suits me? Di said I’d give you a fright wearing it.’

Yaz chuckled, clicking her bisexual flag pin to the front of her t-shirt.

‘Looks cool, mate,’ Dan said, giving her the thumbs-up sign.

‘Yeah,’ Ryan said. ‘Very you.’

‘Ta,’ Yaz replied. ‘But I’m still not giving y’ Sonja’s number.’

‘Oh, your mum gave it me already.’

Yaz rolled her eyes.

Ryan was staring at a picture on the wall. It was of Yaz and Sonja’s shared bedroom when they were younger.

‘I didn’t know you fancied the lady from “Broadchurch”,’ he said, pointing to the background of picture, where a magazine clipping of a brown-haired woman was awkwardly attached to the wallpaper with blue-tac.

‘Shut up.’

‘Hey, she kinda looks like-’

‘Shut. Up.’

Ryan chuckled, before patting Yaz on the shoulder.

The three of them headed into the living room, where the various people had arranged themselves on chairs. Those who were a bit younger had nestled themselves comfortably on the floor.

‘Nice!’ Ace grinned, as Yaz placed the various CDs and DVDs on the table. ‘Rocky Horror? You have great taste!’

Yaz grinned, as she removed the disc from its case and set it into the DVD player under the TV. She then seated herself on the sofa, in a place that had presumably been reserved for her.

Nearby, Tegan was sat, hand-in-hand, with Nyssa of Traken. The curly-haired woman had arrived on Earth barely a few months before. In that time, Tegan had gone from “I’m glad to have my best friend back” to “okay maybe I have some underlying feelings I ignored back in the eighties” before finally landing on “me and Nys kissed each other in my kitchen the other day and now we’re dating”.

It was actually really sweet to see the two of them together. Tegan looked happier than Yaz had ever seen her and, judging from what Ace had said, Nyssa had fallen head-over-heels for the Australian in the same way.

Well, by the sounds of it, they had been in love whilst they had both been travelling in the TARDIS, but details. What mattered was, they had found each other again.

‘Hello Yasmin,’ Nyssa said, smiling kindly at the younger woman. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Fine,’ Yaz replied. The Trakenite woman always insisted on calling Yaz by her full name. ‘How are you? Settling in okay with Tegan?’

‘Tegan is lovely as ever,’ Nyssa said, smiling at her partner. The Australian’s cheeks pinkened slightly as she smiled back. ‘Well, when Ace isn’t barging in at nine-thirty in the evening, that is. She was giggling like a hysterical adolescent.’

‘Hey!’ Ace said, as everyone laughed. ‘It was quite a shock, walking into the sitting room to find Nyssa with her hand down Tegan’s-’

‘Ace!’ Tegan exclaimed, face flashing crimson.

Every else, including Nyssa, bit down a laugh.

‘Sorry, Tee,’ Ace replied, not looking remotely apologetic. ‘Anyway, we are all really happy for you both.’

‘Thank you, Ace,’ Nyssa said, squeezing the still-flustered Tegan’s hand. ‘We really appreciate it. Although… maybe next time, try knocking instead?’

Ace let out a bark of laughter.

‘Nevermind us,’ Tegan said, smiling grimly to herself. ‘What about you, Ace?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Well, I mean, the fact that, earlier, you seemed to be holding hands with both Graham and Mel was rather telling.’

Ace pretended not to hear. Both Mel and Graham avoided eye contact, going a little red in the face.

‘Yaz, can you hit play on Rocky Horror?’ Ace said, turning to the Yorkshirewoman. ‘Is this the sing-along version? I hope you lot have your vocal chords all warmed up…’

Several hours later (and after several other musicals with the sing-along versions selected), Yaz had decided to get some fresh air, standing on the small balcony. Inside, she could hear the sounds of her friends laughing and chattering awa; Martha and a few others had turned up over the intervening hours, and the place was now filled with those cosy feeling that came with many friends all packed into a small flat.

Yaz stared up at the stars in the night sky above.

She knew the pain would never really go, but… that was okay. Grief was a form of love, after all. She had loved her time with the Doctor. Her Doctor. And she would always smile when she remembered that wonderful blonde alien, who had fallen from the stars and into her heart.

Yaz walked back inside, closing the door behind her. In the living room, someone had found Yaz’s cd-tape-radio set. Mel, ever the pragmatist, was trying to gently advise Ace that the rest of the assembled people probably didn’t want to listen to the greatest hits of Bikini Kill.

‘But “Rebel Girl” is basically my theme!’

‘Love, please…’ Mel said, placing a hand gently on Ace’s arm. ‘For me?’

A small smile appeared on Ace’s face.

‘Alright, doughnut,’ she said. ‘For you. But no soppy love songs-’

‘Too late,’ Tegan said, pressing play on the set. ‘Hope you all like my 80s favourites CD.’

Ace rolled her eyes, but didn’t complain further, instead choosing to lean against the wall. A song started up, with an synth keyboard solo.

Looking from a window above… it's like a story of love… can you hear me…

‘Nys?’ Tegan asked, reaching out a hand to the Trakenite woman. ‘May I have this dance?’

Nyssa smiled, her cheeks pinkening slightly.

‘Of course, my darling,’

Nyssa took Tegan’s hand, and the two women began to dance gently together.

Can you hear me… all I needed was the love you gave… and all I needed for another day… and all I ever knew… only you…

‘Thanks for today,’ Yaz said, coming to stand beside Ace, as they continued to watch Tegan and Nyssa sway softly. ‘I think I needed this.’

‘Hey, what are friends for?’ Ace replied, grinning. ‘We’re here for you, Yaz; no matter what.’

Yaz smiled. Yes, she had experienced a fair amount of hurt, but also a lot of love. And, during Pride of all times, it was important to remember love. From the sheer romance of the two older women dancing a few feet away, to the friendship that she felt with every person in the room. It was everywhere.

Yaz sighed, contentedly. She’d be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed this fic based in my little "companion support group" nicheverse.

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brigittttoo · 2 years ago

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Celebratory Kiss - Codywan Kiss Bingo

So excited to post the very first @codywankissbingo fill I wrote, pretty much immediately after getting my bingo card. It's been a while since I've played tennis, and also since I've had a tv to watch it, so let's just all be nice about the casual use of pat and pam commentation <3

(set in the modern day, 1.3k words, rated G)

[ESPN broadcast of the Australian Open Men’s Doubles Finals, 2022, commentated by Patrick McEnroe and Pam Shriver. Transcribed January 31, 2022 by ESPN intern.]

PATRICK: And that’s back to deuce for the sixth time this game.

PAM: Cody’s serving has been consistent and strong for this entire match, and even in dragging it out to a third set he’s still got it. But now that Grieves and Moll know how to just chip it back and get a rally going—

PATRICK: That’s when the games get this long, yeah. Cody going up to serve now, Rex kneeling down and—that’s the out wide hand sign he’s giving there. We’ll see how this goes . . .

[Pause. The camera follows C. Fett through his toss, the crowd utterly silent. The ball lands in the outside corner of the box, curving so wide after the bounce that it ends up in the lower stands, unreachable by Grieves. The crowd erupts in whoops and cheering.]

PATRICK: Just incredible, an ace to get us to a third match point. What was the speed on that?

PAM: The tracker is saying a hundred thirty miles per hour, wow. Don’t often see those kinds of numbers in doubles, usually it’s for the hard hitters in singles—

PATRICK: Your Isner’s, your Karlović’s, hell, even your Raonic’s—

PAM: Exactly. But Fett has all that power in his legs. You can see how far he lands inside the baseline after, just from the jump. And on a slice serve, too.

[Broadcast inset shows the relative placement of C. Fett’s service aces throughout the match; the majority are placed in the wide corners.]

PATRICK: Seems like throughout the game he’s gotten the most aces from these wide ones, but we shouldn’t discount those couple up the middle, especially as those are on Moll’s backhand.

PAM: Absolutely. And that backhand was something Moll used to struggle with in the singles circuit as well.

[The Fett brothers meet in the middle of their end and converse, Moll stalks back to behind the baseline to towel off and get in position to receive while Grieves towels off. A ball kid collects the ball from the stands and sends it back to the south end of the court for the service. The camera switches to a shot of the player’s family section of the stands.]

PATRICK: Oh, we’re seeing the brothers’ coach here, their dad Jango Fett. I remember back when I played him in ‘95, it was the same situation, very steady, playing the long game. Very mental.

PAM: And next to him is retired number one men’s singles champ, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

PATRICK: Always good to see him out and about, supporting the younger up-and-comers. Although—[laughs.]

PAM: Yeah, the Fett’s aren’t as young as they look! That’s the thing about doubles, you get the slightly older teams staying for longer, especially if they’re as good as these guys. Just think of Nestor and Zimonjić, or the Bryan’s.

PATRICK: Oh, I’m always thinking of the Bryan’s when I’m watching doubles.

[The umpire calls time, and the Fett brothers split with a high five, C. Fett bouncing on his toes at the baseline in service position, and then bouncing the ball on his racket. R. Fett crouches by the net; the camera zooms on his hand signs: “up the T” and “come to the net”. The crowd cheers again in sheer excitement, the camera quickly switching to a group of fans waving a New Zealand flag. The umpire calls for quiet.]

PAM: [Quietly] Third match point, Cody Fett to serve.

[An overhead view of the court shows C. Fett’s service, a hard and flat hit up the T that stays low and fast. Moll leaps for a one-handed backhand that loops weakly over the net, landing short in the service box where C. Fett has rushed forward to join R. Fett. C. Fett hits the return with a swinging volley at Grieves’ feet, which Grieves flicks up, lobbing high over R. Fett’s reach, into the empty back of the court. C. Fett runs back and only just manages to return the ball over his shoulder. A down-the-line rally ensues between C. Fett and Moll, which gets interrupted by R. Fett crossing over at the net to send the ball into the open court behind Grieves. Both Moll and Grieves rush to return and in the confusion, are only able to send the ball dribbling over the net. Having made his way back inside the service box, C. Fett reaches the let ball easily, and returns with a neat, shallow, forehand drop shot that bounces twice in the doubles alley. The crowd immediately roars.]

PATRICK: Wow! That was—what a rally to end on!

PAM: They’ve done it, the Fett brothers have just won the Australian Open Men’s Doubles—

PATRICK: The mastery of Rex’s backhand! And Cody’s swinging volley? We should be seeing the replay any second.

PAM: They deserve to celebrate this, though, after all that hard work, this journey they’ve been on all tournament long. Look at those smiles—oh hold on, what’s happening here?

PATRICK: Hey, yeah, what’s Cody doing?

[The camera follows C. Fett as he parts from a hug with R. Fett to run over to the high wall of the corner stands, just beneath the Fett’s family section. With a jump, he is able to reach the top of the wall with one hand, and starts to climb up.]

PATRICK: He really wants to celebrate with family, I guess! [Laughs.]

PAM: And they’re happy to have him! Even Kenobi is giving Cody a hand up, isn’t that—Oh! [Laughs.]

PATRICK: Wow, they’re really—Okay!

[C. Fett and audience member Obi-Wan Kenobi (Fmr. professional player, 19-time Grand Slam title winner, now retired) embrace at the top of the wall. Whoops and cheering from the crowd. Grieves and Moll have shaken hands with the umpire and started putting their rackets away.]

PAM: I wouldn’t have guessed, but that sure is the way to celebrate a Grand Slam win!

PATRICK: It sure is! Look even Jango’s smiling, and he never does that!

[If the official broadcast may become flowery for a moment: C. Fett and O. Kenobi kiss in the stands, sitting halfway on top of the wall, like a tide breaking along the reef. Their hands clutch the sides of each other’s faces, O. Kenobi kisses into C. Fett’s gleaming smile, and even though the crowd is too loud to hear it, they are both laughing in proud, ecstatic, hard-earned accomplishment. Oh my sweet god.]

---

[Pam Shriver stands with a microphone on the court in front of R. Fett, holding the Australian Open doubles trophy.]

PAM: [cont’d] A truly fantastic effort from you guys, not just today but throughout the whole tournament. All the way from the qualifiers to winning the finals! Really just amazing to watch.

REX: Thank you so much, we really wanted to—y’know, just play our best and represent our family, and our country, and—yeah just. [Breathless.] It’s such a good feeling.

PAM: I bet it is! And you’re speaking for your brother as well.

REX: [Laughs.] Yeah! He’s—well everyone saw, so he’s. [Laughs.] Indisposed?

PAM: Well we wish him and Kenobi all the best. And you guys have got the rest of the year to play in, too!

REX: I’m sure we’ll both be riding this high for at least the next couple Opens—Oh, great, you’re back.

[C. Fett jogs into screen and takes the offered trophy from R. Fett. His—his left hand has a ring on it?? Oh myg od]

PAM: I was just thanking your brother for giving us a wonderful final match to watch today. Is there anyone you’d like to thank in return?

CODY: Yeah, of course I couldn’t do any of this without Rex, but also the support we get from dad, and our other brothers, and—and I would also very much like to thank my partner. My fiancé.

REX: Oh, come on— [Broadcast ends with a twenty second highlights reel of the match, dynamic shots overlaid with celebratory music, ending on C. Fett’s climb up the stadium wall and his kiss with O. Kenobi. End of transcript.]

#I'm just imagining the teenaged ESPN intern writing this transcript and going feral over the on-court drama of it all #codywan #codywankissbingo2022 #my fic

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years ago

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Beach Proposal ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 1.3K

GENRE: cute, fluffy, proposal, lifeguard Jungkook

PAIRING: Lifeguard!Jungkook x lifeguard!Reader

A/N: I hope that this is alright for you my love, I know its a little short I’m sorry!

Being a lifeguard meant learning to live with the fact that people were going to flirt with you and your boyfriend at all hours of the day. Normally it wouldn't bother you so much but lately, it had begun to get to you. Instead of telling them that he had you, he would playfully flirt back and forth with them. You knew it meant nothing to Jungkook but for some reason, it was a big deal to you.

"What's up sugar plum?" You glanced over your shoulder to see one of the other lifeguards standing behind your chair. It was hard to miss his thick Australian accent,

"Nothing choppo. What's going on on the beach?" You questioned looking around at a group of people all crowding around something. You were stuck in the watchtower all day with Jethro and Harris while the rest of them patrolled the beach. There weren't that many of you but just enough so that everyone on the beach was protected if anything happened.

"Jungkook took off his shirt and showed his new tattoos," Jethro laughed as he stared through his binoculars over at the crowd,

"Of course he did." You mumbled keeping your eyes on the water in case something happened but the boys knew it was bothering you. It had been something up for discussion a lot whenever Jungkook wasn't around, even though most of the guys were taken or married they still flirted playfully. They never saw the big deal with it but you did and you were sure that their partners would if they heard about it too.

"You need to chill babe, you know he only has eyes for you." Jethro teased as he pushed your chair with his foot, you stared at him and up at his shoulder.

"Do you want me to pop it out of place?" You teased rolling your eyes at him before going back to the ocean. It was only last week that Jethro had popped his own shoulder out of place and was laid up in the tower with you. The only reason you had been stuck up there for the last week was a punishment from your boss, he figured you could use it after disobeying his orders about going in the water. The rules were fairly simple, if there was a rescue mission someone always had to stay in the tower to keep an eye on things and you didn't. You'd seen someone else in danger and rushed out to help them instead of doing as you were told, resulting in your punishment.

"I'm tapping out Rapunzel," Cappo said as he began to do his time card, it was getting close to the beach closing anyway. Once it hit 8 at night no one was supposed to go onto the beach or into the water. Since there were no lifeguards around but it didn't stop many people from doing it anyway.

"You're on lock up tonight, come and meet us at the bar though?" Harris asked as he got up from his chair and looked at you, it was five minutes until shut down time and you had the fun task of getting everyone off the beach.

"Might go home, I'm tired." You lied as you got up and headed out of the tower, hoping that Jungkook would help you get everyone off the beach.

The two of you had been together since you were in college, one of the longest relationships you'd ever had and you were head over heels with one another.

"Kookie! Make sure you get everyone out of the whirlpool too," You called down the radio as you made your way up and down the beach to make sure no one was around. Normally people would wait to sneak back on until all of the lifeguards had left by which time it wasn't your problem anymore and they had to deal with their own mistakes.

"I know, I'm heading up there now. I'll check and head to the bar." The radio cut out and you sighed, why would he want to leave without you? Normally the two of you would head to the bar together but you said nothing and headed up to the end of the beach.

Besides the usual drunk, there was no one on the beach for miles so you began taking all of the flags in and making sure there was nothing left out that needed to be put away.

"Harris, just shutting off the main lights. I'll lock and post the keys." You spoke down the phone to Harris's voicemail and hung up, grabbing your bag before heading out of the door. All you wanted to do was get home and crawl into bed to get some sleep, there was something about the sea air that made everyone sleepier than usual. There was always some kind of myth as to why it made people more tired than usual but it was all science, something to do with the Sea air is charged with healthy negative ions that accelerate our ability to absorb oxygen.

As you were about to head off the beach something in the corner of your eye flickered and you frowned. A flame? Who would be having a fire on the beach this late at night? Slowly heading down from the tower you almost dropped your bag onto the floor seeing Jungkook standing there. Surrounded by small glass jars with candles inside of them, being protected from the wind so that it was still romantic.

"Jungkook?" You laughed awkwardly as he looked over at you, smiling and beckoning you to move toward him.

"What's all of this?" You quizzed as you got closer to him, looking down at a blanket that he was standing on and then around him. You were pretty sure you hadn't missed an anniversary or a birthday.

"I wanted to do something special," He whispered as he stood in front of you, shaking a little as he thought about what he was about to do. Something he had been planning for a while now and had been nervous about it since the moment it happened.

"Jungkook? You're shivering, is something-" You stopped when he suddenly got down onto one knee, looking up at you as he held your hand in his.

"I have loved you since we started dating...I fall more and more in love with you every day. Every day I thank the universe for allowing me to wake up next to you, to be together with you every day of my life from now until I die." Tearing up you looked at him as he began to stumble over his words, tears running down his cheeks a little as he said everything he'd been meaning to say all week.

"I know I annoy you with the flirting and trust me it all stops now but I just...I love you and I can't even imagine my life without you Y/n." It was now that you noticed Jethro and Harris were standing up at the watchtower with their cameras out, watching you both.

"Will you, Y/n Y/l/n, do me the honour of becoming my wife?" You knelt down onto the floor in front of him, taking his face in your hands as you both sobbed.

"Of course Jungkook," You breathed out, kissing him over and over again until you both fell back onto the blanket. Making out as he struggled to pull the ring out from his pocket. Leaving the boys watching you in a fit of laughter before you stuck up your middle finger at them.

"Let's go home, to celebrate," You whined as Jungkook placed the ring onto your finger while he chuckled at you, shaking his head.

"I have to clean up and they want us at the bar," You pulled him closer to you, whispering in his ear all of the things you wanted to do when you got back to your shared apartment and you'd never seen him move so fast. Rushing to blow out all of the candles and clean everything up.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix @misa0000

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagine #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines

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papenniesandbentoboxes · 4 years ago

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The Impossible Imposter - A Nancy Drew Among Us Crack Fanfiction

I wrote this at midnight last night to celebrate my 20th birthday. This is probably the most stupid thing I’ve ever written.

Here’s the AO3 link!

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Characters: Bess Marvin, Sonny Joon, Mason Quinto, Alec Fell, Dwayne Powers, Ethel Bossiny, Jacques Brunais, Lou Talbot, Brady Armstrong, Harper Thornton

Word Count: 2224

Here’s the fic!

[Camera pans to table with a button in the center, ten individuals stand around. The smallest in pink is BESS MARVIN, the tallest JACQUES BRUNAIS in purple, DWAYNE POWERS in red, ALEC FELL in green, SONNY JOON in cyan, MASON QUINTO in blue, ETHEL BOSSINY in white, HARPER THORNTON in black, BRADY ARMSTRONG in lime, LOU TALBOT in yellow.]

[All crew members eye each other, each suspicious of the others. MASON QUINTO leans on the table.]

MASON: Alright, since no one wants to talk, I’ll do it. We each have tasks right? Let’s do them. We’ve got to go and get to our destination.

BRADY: But where are we going?

[Silence.]

ALEC: Good question. We were never really told where we’re going. We just are here… I guess.

{ALEC CONFESSIONAL: Instantly, I thought Mason was suspicious, but he’s just like that I’ve realized. He’s always up to something, whether it’s being an asshole or a dick or a genius. Depends.}

[SONNY slams hands on the table.]

SONNY: Let’s yeet !

[Crowd disperses, leaving LOU in the cafeteria to empty the garbage]

{LOU CONFESSIONAL: I wanted to go in a group, just so I wouldn’t be alone. I hate it here. But like, you know, they were all so fast. Going by all zippy-zoom.}

[In ADMIN, BESS MARVIN struggles while swiping her card.]

BESS: C’mon! Just work!

[DWAYNE enters, eyes squinted at her. They both watch each other warily. BESS’s card still won’t scan. DWAYNE heads toward the wires.]

BESS: Please, please, please, please…

{BESS CONFESSIONAL: Dwayne freaks me out. He’s so… Unhinged. I’ve heard everything he’s done! Even if he isn’t the imposter, he’d probably kill us all anyway!}

[DWAYNE leaves.]

BESS: [releaved] Oh, thank God.

[In ELECTRICAL, BRADY is struggling with wires.]

BRADY: [puts two wires together and shocks himself] Ouch!

[HARPER enters, laughing to herself.]

BRADY: Hi, Harper. [shocks himself again] Ow.

{BRADY CONFESSIONAL: Harper is scary. She just is. I’ve heard rumors that she’s actually, like, crazy. I don’t want to believe them, since I like to see the best in people and it helps with my celebrity image, but she’s… Just scary.}

[HARPER helps fix the wires with him.]

HARPER: Maybe if you’d put the wires together in the right way you wouldn’t die so fast.

BRADY: Huh?

HARPER: Oh, nothing, hon.

{HARPER CONFESSIONAL: My condescending cousin says that all the time and it makes others feel awful, so I thought I’d give it a try. [loud laugh] It worked!}

[Without any warning, OXYGEN DEPLETION ALARM goes off. Both crew members look each other in the eye and then run off down the hall.]

[ADMIN at OXYGEN CONTROL PANEL, MASON is typing in the deactivation code.]

{MASON CONFESSIONAL: I expected to be the only one doing anything about this, but deep inside me I didn’t want it to be that way. You know, I could totally just not do anything and then we’d all die. But I actually want to live, unlike some people apparently.}

[SONNY runs in, then runs out to the other PANEL, CAMERA FOLLOWS]

{SONNY CONFESSIONAL: I’m only here for the aliens. If they’re anywhere, it’s space. Also, these suits are cool.}

[SONNY almost runs into ALEC, who is also headed to the PANEL.]

{ALEC CONFESSIONAL: Sonny… What a guy. I have no idea what to think of him. But he does have a file where I work. Which is classified.}

[ALEC and SONNY run to the PANEL where DWAYNE is inputting the code.]

DWAYNE: [smiles] Ah, greetings.

ALEC: Aye, greetings.

SONNY: [waves]

[All three men stare at each other for a long moment until a DEAD BODY is REPORTED and the ALARM sounds.]

[CAFETERIA, where all but two crew members meet. LOU and JACQUES are missing from the group. BRADY, who reported the bodies, is quiet. ALEC speaks up.]

ALEC: Where were they?

BRADY: Reactor. It was only Jacques I saw.

ALEC: Did you see anyone?

BRADY: [shrugs] No. But Harper is giving me mad sus vibes.

[In the back of the room, HARPER is sitting on a chair in the shadows, laughing in the darkness.]

HARPER: Oh, good! I was afraid I was the only one who thought so! You are right not to trust me.

MASON: What’s that supposed to me?

HARPER: You decide. Though, I figure that young man is only trying to cast suspicion on me.

BRADY: Not really--

HARPER: Well, if you insist, I’ll tell you. I am an Imposter. [stands up, hands on her hips] Y’all better be afraid if you know what’s good for you.

{BESS CONFESSIONAL: Well, I’m betting that either she’s bluffing of the other Imposter is really, really angry right now. I honestly can’t tell if she’s lying or not. But… She does scare me.}

[TIMER counts down. All crew members have to vote within 30 seconds.]

BRADY: [holding black flag, HARPER’s color] I vote Harper. I don’t want to risk it.

BESS: [holds up grey flag] I’m going to skip this round. I can’t tell whether she’s… You know…

SONNY: Evil?

BESS: [blushes] Yeah…

SONNY: [holds up black flag] Well I think she’s super sus so I’m voting for her.

MASON: [holds up black flag] Might as well go with the rest.

{MASON CONFESSIONAL: Democracy, am I right?}

ETHEL: [holds up black flag] I also vote for Harper.

[BESS, SONNY, BRADY, and ALEC are startled, shrieking a bit each. ETHEL is unphased, looking as calm as ever.]

{ALEC CONFESSIONAL: She’s terrifying.}

SONNY: [whispers] Oh my God, I forgot she was here.

BESS: [whispers back] Me too…

DWAYNE: [sighing loudly and holds up black flag] I vote for Harper. No use in voting against her.

ALEC: [holds up black flag] [says nothing]

HARPER: [holds up black flag] I also vote for me! Anywhere is better than here with all you upstairs people.

[Other crew members look at each other in confusion.]

BESS: What’s that supposed to mean?

ALEC: I have no idea.

[HARPER is ejected. Crew members await confirmation on the central screen.]

[HARPER is not An Imposter.]

ALEC: Shit!

MASON: [sighs] Well, there’s that.

BESS: [stares into the camera in fear]

{BESS CONFESSIONAL: I just want to go home.}

[Crew members have resumed activity. ALEC is in the HALLWAY, lugging around a container of GASOLINE.]

{ALEC CONFESSIONAL: So, I’m just walking in the hallway, and then Sonny just comes walking by, whistling.}

[Camera cuts to SONNY walking through the hallway, whistling and glancing at ALEC. ALEC watches him carefully.]

{ALEC CONFESSIONAL: Sonny’s just weird.}

[In MED BAY, BRADY is getting a med scan, looking at his stats.]

BRADY: They don’t have green eyes. They should have eye colors.

{BRADY CONFESSIONAL: They should!}

[MASON enters, heading straight to inspect samples. Both avoid eye contact. MASON leaves quickly. Relieved, BRADY steps down and lets out a long breath.]

BRADY: Well, that was better than I expected.

[MED BAY doors slide shut.]

BRADY: Uh oh.

[In WEAPONS, DWAYNE sits in the big chair, blasting asteroids.]

{DWAYNE CONFESSIONAL: Everyone expects me to be the Imposter ever since my stunt with Rick Arlen and my time in jail. Just because I’m a killer doesn’t mean I’m going to kill everyone! [rubs chin] It would be fun though. And if Rick Arlen were here, I’d just kill him. Being the Imposter would also be a bonus.}

[DWAYNE fires at his last asteroid, then stands up and leaves, tiptoeing down the hall.]

[SONNY is seen in the cafeteria, looking out at the stars.]

{SONNY CONFESSIONAL: You know, my grandfather always told me I was special. I always believed it. I stopped for a while, but I’m back to believing that. I believe somehow I might make contact with alien life out here. [shrugs] Who knows? Maybe they’re just vibing and waiting for me to be out there.}

[DEAD BODY is REPORTED. All crew members meet at the cafeteria. BRADY is missing. BESS, who reported the body, looks out at the crowd.]

BESS: I… I didn’t see anyone. I found Brady in the Med Bay.

MASON: That must’ve been right after I left.

ALEC: Did you see anything?

MASON: [shakes head] I try not to be in the same room as other people. I don’t know who I can trust right now.

ALEC: Aye, that’s valid.

SONNY: Well, I know who I’m voting for. [holds up green flag] Alec’s super sus.

ALEC: Why would you do that?!

SONNY: I don’t know, you’re Australian.

ALEC: I’m Scottish! From Scotland!

SONNY: Deflecting! Super sus.

{SONNY CONFESSIONAL: [rubs the back of his neck] I’ve really got to brush up on my accents. I mean, even if I did say that on purpose to throw suspicion off me-- don’t worry, I’m not that stupid--, I still need to brush up. I keep mixing up Italian with Jamaican. Don’t ask how that happens, I don’t know.}

MASON:[holds up white flag] I’m voting for Ethel. We haven’t seen her this entire time.

[All crew members look to ETHEL, who stands there and holds her hands together. She shakes her head.]

ETHEL: I assure you, I was doing tasks.

DWAYNE: [slams fist on table] Silence ! She’s guilty! Guilty !

SONNY: Yeah, that’s what they all say.

BESS: [holds up white flag] Mason has a good point.

ALEC: [holds up white flag]

{ETHEL CONFESSIONAL: I suppose I expected nothing less from them.}

[ETHEL doesn’t vote, forcing them to wait in silence for 30 seconds.]

[ETHEL is ejected. Crew members eagerly await confirmation.]

[ETHEL was An Imposter.]

[Only five members remain. Immediately, ALEC FELL heads to security. Camera follows.]

{ALEC CONFESSIONAL: I had to look at security. I had no tasks and some time to kill, so the security booth seemed like the best option for me. At least, if no one comes through the vents.}

[DWAYNE stands in NAVIGATION, downloading data. He has a scowl on his face as he angrily presses buttons.]

DWAYNE: I could have killed Rick Arlen by now.

[To his left, the vent opens up. Camera pans over. MASON QUINTO steps out, takes out a gun, and shoots DWAYNE. He smirks at the corpse in front of him for a moment, then climbs back into the vents.]

{MASON CONFESSIONAL: [cleaning off knife from his last kill] Dwayne never saw me coming. Neither did Lou. I also assisted in the killing of Brady but I’m not telling anyone who my other partner is yet. They’ll find out soon enough.}

[DEAD BODY is REPORTED. All four crew members stand around the table, all quiet. SONNY, who found the body, looks around.]

SONNY: Well, since half of us are Imposters, how about a game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who gets ejected?

MASON: No.

ALEC: How about you tell us where the body was found and who was nearby.

SONNY: No one was around and it was in navigation.

BESS: [gasps] That’s where I was right after the last meeting…

MASON: Wait, does that mean--

ALEC: No, I can confirm her whereabouts. She’s okay.

[All four stand in silence. The voting countdown begins.]

SONNY: [holds green flag] I still think it’s Alec.

ALEC: [holds up cyan flag] Och! How unexpected of you!

MASON: [holds up cyan flag] Sonny has been throwing accusations at Alec this entire time.

BESS: [looks around] I’m so sorry…

[After a long moment, Bess holds up a green flag. The voting results are tied. No one is ejected.]

[All crew members stare at each other, no one saying anything.]

{MASON CONFESSIONAL: [loads gun] All according to plan.}

[MASON takes out a gun and shots the ceiling. BESS cries out, ALEC puts a hand on her shoulder, SONNY just stares.]

MASON: Yeah. That’s right. I’m an Imposter. Now, since you know it’s me, I’m going to leave you to all sort it out between yourselves. One of you three is the last one of us.

BESS: Just tell us!

SONNY: He’d never do that.

BESS: [hugging herself] I want to go home…

ALEC: [giving her a kind smile] We all do.

[Voting countdown ends. All votes are for MASON]

{MASON CONFESSIONAL: [chuckles] Do you really think I was going to sacrifice my life for this? I’ve been planning to get ejected since the beginning. I have a small ship of my own waiting outside for me. They eject me? I call it to me and I get inside and wait until my partner executes the next step in the plan.}

[MASON is ejected. The three remaining look for confirmation even though they know the result.]

[MASON was An Imposter.]

[The lights go out. Crew members look up. No one moves. A gunshot is heard.]

[The lights come back on, revealing Bess holding a smoking gun over Sonny’s dead body.]

{BESS CONFESSIONAL: I really hate that I killed Sonny, but if I was gonna win, I needed to kill him. And you know what? I’m beginning to see why Mason and Ethel were actually having fun.}

ALEC: [turns to her, shocked] It was you?

BESS: [points gun at him] Always was .

{BESS CONFESSIONAL: Ha! Those acting classes I took last summer really paid off! And Joe was right. Reckless accusations are fun! Too bad I didn't contribute more.}

{ALEC CONFESSIONAL: [sighs] [takes a bite of a crumpet] [silence] [takes another bite] She offered me a last meal. [takes another bite and waits] I should have seen this coming.}

#nancy drew #clue crew #nancy drew crack #nancy drew fanfiction #nancy drew fanfic #nancy drew crack fanfic #among #nancy drew among us #bess marvin #sonny joon #Mason Quinto #alec fell #dwayne powers #ethel bossiny #lou talbot #brady armstrong #harper thornton #jacques brunais

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calumcest · 4 years ago

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you and i were fireworks that went off too soon - chapter seven

[ao3]

did i just pull this entire chapter out of my arse tonight? maybe! not that i don’t write these chapters all in one sitting at like 9pm-1am every single time don’t get it twisted i’m not organised i am a binge-writer

i always do my long ass a/ns on ao3 i dont know why feels more REVEALING to do them here because i know people actually read them and i think probably one person on the whole planet has ever read my ao3 a/ns its a safe haven so i’m just going to say my brief thank yous: thank you to @clumsyclifford for literally everything you do always, thank you to @ashesonthefloor for listening too me bitch about this fic and having the most wonderful thoughts and ideas about it, thank you to @kaleidoscopeminds for motivating me to keep writing this fic w your kind words, thank you to @allsassnoclass for always being so wise and understanding of authors dilemmas and encouraging me w your lovely words, and thank you to my spoiler anon for being so lovely about this fic and holyverse and also for asking about another chapter because i swear to u i would have kept putting it off were it not for u. also big thank you to noel and liam gallagher for writing the SMASH hits i wrote this entire chapter to and for being [redacted] and also to richard madden because i just fancy him and feel like i should thank him for existing and allowing me to perceive him

It’s a twin room, thank God, because Luke would have rather slept in the hallway than shared a bed with Ashton for four weeks.

“I’m taking the window bed,” he announces, before Ashton has a chance to say anything, out of pure spite, because he knows Ashton likes sleeping by the window. Or knew, maybe. He’s not sure anymore.

Ashton opens and then closes his mouth, nods curtly, and puts his carry-on bag on the bed nearest the bathroom. Luke puts Clifford down on the bed first, muttering at him to stop fucking yapping (which Clifford, of course, ignores), and then drops his suitcases next to it with a sigh.

“So,” Ashton says, and his voice fills the entire room, too loud and too much, a jarring reminder that Ashton’s here, in Luke’s space, and Luke’s got no option but to live with it. “Should we go out?” Luke blinks at him.

“What?” he says.

“Well,” Ashton says, with an uncomfortable shrug. “Study doesn’t start ‘til tomorrow, and it’s only nine. Thought we could spend the day exploring?” Luke stares at him.

“Think I’d rather spend my last day of freedom alone,” he says, a little harshly. Ashton blinks, and Luke doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses his face, but then he nods again.

“Have you still got my UK number?” he says, and Luke hesitates, and then nods. He’s not sure why it feels like he’s giving something away by admitting that he’d never deleted Ashton’s numbers; he’d been the one to text Ashton about the tattoos first, so clearly Ashton already knows that Luke still had his Australian number, at least. “Well. Text me if you need anything?”

“Don’t think I’ll need anything,” Luke says, and Ashton sighs, and Luke feels a little small, a little stupid, like Ashton’s a patient parent putting up with a melodramatic teenager.

“I’m going to head off, then,” Ashton says, a touch awkwardly, and Luke just nods, busying himself with getting Clifford out of his travel cage, thinking he’ll ask at reception for directions to the nearest park and let Clifford stretch his legs. He steadfastly doesn’t look at Ashton as Ashton gathers his things together, patting his coat pocket to make sure he’s got everything, and then slips out of the room, door clicking shut behind him.

As soon as Ashton’s left, Luke suddenly feels simultaneously relieved and overwhelmed. He feels like he can breathe a little easier, think a little clearer without Ashton in his personal space, making him feel like he has to be alert, on edge, but the hotel room feels strangely empty without him. Luke shakes his head, tries to get the latter thought out of his mind, focusing on Clifford’s insistent yaps to draw him back to reality and distract him.

“Alright, little man, we’re going,” Luke mutters, fumbling around in his bag for Clifford’s lead. Clifford jumps around at his feet, already panting, and Luke rolls his eyes, clips the lead on, checks he’s got his room key and phone in his pocket and heads out of the room.

He decides to take the stairs, since he doesn’t think Clifford’s got the patience to wait for the lift, which proves to be the right decision when Clifford’s straining at his lead trying to bound down the stairs, giving Luke reproachful looks whenever he tugs him back. They’re only on the second floor, so it’s not long before Luke’s back in the lobby, and Clifford finally pulls himself together and trots smartly at Luke’s heel, giving other people milling in the area imperious looks as they pass.

“Hi,” Luke says, and the receptionist smiles politely up at him. “I’d like to walk my dog. Can you tell me where the nearest park is?” She nods.

“Of course, sir,” she says, and pulls out a brochure. Luke mentally pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s going to look like a massive fucking tourist walking around with one of those. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t get mugged.

“You just need to turn left out of the hotel, take a right at the end of the road, take the second left after that, take two rights, and you’ll be at the park,” she says, trailing her pen across the streets and ending it with a flourish, circling a rectangle of green on the map and smiling at him again. Luke smiles back, having taken absolutely none of that in, thanks her, pockets the map and decides he’ll probably just walk around the nearby backstreets for a while until Clifford’s worn out to lower his chances of getting lost.

Clifford, it turns out, is surprisingly tired, having apparently spent all of his energy on pestering Luke to take him out. He only manages about half an hour of walking up and down a few streets around the hotel before he’s flagging, sitting down and staring up at Luke beseechingly when Luke tries to pull him along. A passing couple throw Luke an amused look and titter to themselves, and Luke sighs.

“C’mon, little man,” he says, tugging again. Clifford refuses to budge, just stares up at Luke with a look that Luke knows all too well. “Come on, Cliff, you’re embarrassing me. It’s two streets away. You can walk that far.” Clifford stays put, and Luke rolls his eyes, but bends down and scoops Clifford up into his arms. Clifford immediately nuzzles into Luke happily, licking at his neck, and Luke pulls back, wrinkling his nose. “Gross, Cliff, don’t do that.”

Luke pretty much speedwalks back to the hotel because little though Clifford is, he’s surprisingly heavy after a while, and Luke’s much weaker than he looks. He throws the receptionist a polite smile on his way back up to the room, unclips Clifford from the lead as soon as he’s in there and rummages around in one of his suitcases for the bed Michael had shoved on top of all of Luke’s warmest clothes. Clifford watches him patiently, and hops into the bed as soon as Luke’s unfolded it, curls up and closes his eyes. Luke can’t help but smile fondly down at him, bending down to press a kiss to the top of Clifford’s head and scratching behind his ears.

“I’m going to go out again, little man,” he tells Clifford. “I’ll be back to give you your dinner, though.” Clifford just sniffs, which Luke takes to mean ‘yeah, sure, now fuck off and let me sleep’, and Luke straightens again, throws Clifford one final fond look and heads back out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

He decides it’s probably fine if he wanders aimlessly, since the brochure in his pocket has the name of the hotel on it and Michael had paid for his phone plan to cover the UK for six weeks so he can look it up when he inevitably gets lost. Having spent half an hour in the streets surrounding the hotel already, he decides to get on the tube and head somewhere new, picking a stop name he recognises - Leicester Square sounds vaguely familiar.

Leicester Square, it turns out, sounds familiar because it’s a tourist hotspot. Luke’s ducking and weaving between people, mumbling apologies as he slips through gaps that he doesn’t actually fit through and splits up groups (but seriously, he thinks, slightly irritated as he smiles politely, who the fuck walks in a row of five?). There are countless little side alleys and back roads leading off the main street, but even those are difficult to walk through, filled with the native Londoners who know their way through the labyrinth of twisting streets and know better than to be anywhere near Leicester Square in the first place.

Eventually, half to get out of the crowds and half because he’s actually pretty hungry, Luke ducks into a Costa and buys himself a ham and cheese toastie, balking at the price when the cashier rings it up. Five fucking pounds, what’s that, ten dollars? For one sandwich? Fucking hell. He’s definitely going to be demanding those reimbursements from the university.

He’s waiting for his sandwich to come out of the toaster, only two baristas serving a queue of at least twenty, when someone taps him on the shoulder a little tentatively, making him jump. He whips around, wondering whether he’s in the way or something, and comes face to face with-

Ashton.

“Are you serious?” he demands, before he can think about it. Ashton shrugs, and looks a little uncomfortable. “Are you following me?”

“I was already here,” Ashton says. “I’ve got a table.” He waves his hand in the directions of an empty table in the far corner, and Luke can see Ashton’s coat bunched up on one of the chairs.

“Oh,” Luke says. Ashton gives him a look, simultaneously sad and calculating, and for a brief moment, Luke thinks fuck, his eyes are pretty. Jesus Christ. Maybe he should have stayed at the hotel and napped.

“D’you want to sit with me?” Ashton says. Luke hesitates - not particularly , is the first petulant thought to cross his mind, before his rational side kicks in and tells him sleepily that he won’t find a seat anywhere else - and then nods.

“Ham and cheese toastie?” the barista calls, and Luke steps forwards, takes it from her hand and heads wordlessly in the direction of Ashton’s table, Ashton in tow.

“Sorry,” Ashton says, when Luke picks up Ashton’s coat off the seat and holds it out for him. He takes it from Luke and his finger brushes against Luke’s, and something like liquid gold rushes through Luke, making him giddy from head to toe. It’s the sleeplessness, he tells himself, averting his gaze and snatching his hand away. God knows he’s felt even more unexplainable things on the same amount of sleep.

“‘S alright,” Luke says, sitting down to avoid thinking about the warmth of Ashton’s finger brushing against his own and the way his finger is still burning from the contact. “You didn’t know I was going to be here.” Ashton hesitates, and then busies himself with tucking his coat behind him, like he’s looking for something to do that isn’t stare across the table at Luke. Luke’s not going to complain about that, and takes a bite out of the first half of the toastie so he won’t have to say anything else.

They sit in silence for a moment, Luke eating his toastie, Ashton fiddling with the bracelet on his left hand. The silence is uncomfortable, oppressive, and Luke kind of wishes he’d just sat on the fucking floor or something. Nothing makes him wish that more, though, than when Ashton opens his mouth and says: “I wondered.”

Luke swallows his last bite of toastie with a frown.

“You wondered what?” he says. Ashton shrugs, tension and discomfort visible in the movement.

“I wondered whether we’d bump into each other,” he says. Luke rolls his eyes.

“Not this again,” he mutters, but it’s more tired than anything. Ashton sighs, and drops his hands onto the table.

“Look,” he says carefully. “I don’t think us bumping into each other all the time is a coincidence.”

“Fucking hell,” Luke says, but there’s no heat behind the words. He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes and squeezes them shut. He’s too fucking tired for this.

“Luke,” Ashton says, like Luke’s being unreasonable. “We’ve lived in the same city for years-” Luke opens his mouth to interrupt, because Ashton was always away half the time when they were together, and he can’t imagine that’s changed much “-okay, on-off, because I’m in LA sometimes - but we’ve not once bumped into each other. Then we get the tattoos, and suddenly I’m seeing you every other week?”

“What’s your point?” Luke says, a little irritably. “You think this is some grand plan from the universe to make us fall back in love? What, I’m Cathy, you’re Heathcliff?” Ashton bites his lip, and Luke’s mouth twists bitterly in a humourless smile. “This isn’t fucking romantic, Ashton. You leaving me was-” he cuts himself off. He’s not quite ready to tell Ashton that , yet. “Awful,” he says, eventually. “This isn’t part of some, like, big romantic redemption arc for you. You fucked up, and you fucked me over, and we’ve just got to find some way to live with the tattoos. That’s why we’re both here, isn’t it?” Ashton’s silent for a moment, and if Luke’s not mistaken, looks a little paler than he had a minute ago, and then nods.

“Can we at least be civil?” Ashton says, and then, seeing the look on Luke’s face, adds: “We’re stuck together for four weeks, Luke. I know you don’t like me, and I’m not asking for- for friendship, or anything. I’m just asking for you to be civil with me.” Luke exhales heavily.

“Fine,” he says tiredly, before he has the chance to think too much about it. “Civil.”

“Civil,” Ashton agrees.

(Luke’s pretty sure civil doesn’t involve thinking God, I’d forgotten how long his eyelashes are, and the way you can see a hint of his dimple when he speaks, but he’s also pretty sure that’s entirely to do with the exhaustion, and nothing to do with him.)

-------

Ashton talks Luke into going down to the Houses of Parliament, with a combination of a sincere look on his face, big, serious eyes as he says look, we don’t want to risk another bumping-into-each-other tattoo, and it’ll just be civil, and the fact that Luke just doesn’t have the energy to argue. Plus, he thinks, Ashton seems to know where he’s going, and Luke had forgotten to take his charger with him so he’s kind of fucked if he gets lost.

The walk down from Costa to the Houses of Parliament is only about twenty minutes, but feels so much fucking longer, both of them all too aware of the awkward silence hanging between them, amplified by the noise of the city surrounding them. They walk through Trafalgar Square, and Ashton tells Luke something about art installations and the fourth plinth and Luke just nods along, trying his best to do this whole civil thing by quelling his instinct to snap I don’t fucking know what a plinth is and you know full fucking well I don’t care about art. Ashton seems to sense it from him anyway, though, because he falters and then says, with an uncomfortable laugh, “You probably don’t care about this anyway.”

“Not really,” Luke admits, because they’d said civil, not dishonest. Ashton smiles wryly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Sorry,” he says, and Luke just hums, and they fall back into an awkward silence.

It’s easier, Luke finds, when a man in a suit shoulders into him and keeps walking without so much as a mumbled apology and Ashton turns to him, outraged, and says Londoners really are cunts, if they interact with each other through their surroundings. Talking about people, things, even the fucking weather, adds a sheen of superficiality, a layer of removal that they can both look at and pretend there’s nothing more to it, no years of hurt and pain bubbling beneath the surface.

“How is it this sunny yet this cold?” Luke grumbles, shielding his eyes and squinting up at Big Ben.

“You should be here in April,” Ashton says, stabbing the button at the traffic light repeatedly.

“I’ve got no intentions of being here any longer than I have to be,” Luke mutters. “What are we looking at, again?”

“It’s parliament, Luke,” Ashton says, like that’s supposed to mean something to Luke.

“So?” Luke says. “We’ve got a parliament.”

“And? Have you ever seen it?” Ashton says shrewdly, and Luke scowls, biting back the scathing retort on the tip of his tongue. Civil and Ashton are two concepts that he assumes will take a while to marry in his mind.

“Whatever,” he says, stepping out into the road as the light turns green. “Just don’t get why I’m supposed to care about some random country’s government, is all.” Ashton doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that, jogging to catch up with Luke, and they walk the rest of the distance to the buildings in silence.

It’s quite imposing, Luke thinks, up close. The buildings are sort of dirty - or maybe they’re meant to look like that - and incredibly intricate, bordering on fussy. It towers over them, looking more like a palace than a place of governance, Big Ben casting a long shadow across the road. He’s not sure he’d want to be governed from this place.

“I don’t like it,” he says.

“Really?” Ashton says, squinting up at the buildings. “I think it’s kind of pretty.” You would, Luke thinks darkly. Old, ornate and overcomplicated? That’s exactly the kind of thing Ashton would get excited about and find unwarranted symbolism in.

“Yeah, well,” Luke says instead, because he’s pretty sure that thought doesn’t count as civil. “Think it’s just a bit too elaborate.”

“It’s Gothic Revival,” Ashton says, like Luke’s supposed to have a single fucking clue what that means. Actually, Luke thinks bitterly, he’s probably fully aware that Luke doesn’t have any idea what that means, and is hoping Luke will take the bait and ask so Ashton can demonstrate his massive intellect, or whatever.

“Right,” Luke says, a little shortly. Ashton glances at him, looking a touch taken aback, but then looks back at the buildings.

“We can go somewhere else,” he says, and it’s an offer. An olive branch.

“Yeah,” Luke says, because annoyance at not knowing anything about architectural styles aside, looking at an old building is just pretty fucking boring.

“There’s an aquarium not too far away,” Ashton says. “I remember you-” he stops himself, and Luke swallows. Yeah. He loves aquariums. He loves them so much that Ashton had taken him to the Sydney Aquarium for their third anniversary, a month or two before he’d broken up with Luke.

(Two months on the dot. Not that Luke has both dates seared into his mind, or anything.)

“Yeah,” Luke says again, to fill the silence of both of them thinking back to that day. “Let’s go to the aquarium.” Ashton hesitates, and glances at Luke like he wants to say something else, a sort of semi-pained expression on his face, and then he sighs, shakes his head, and throws Luke a tight smile.

“Let’s go to the aquarium,” he agrees.

-------

The aquarium, it turns out, is a much better choice.

Despite the odd screaming child, the aquarium has a calming silence to it, an almost pensive quiet that pierces to the depths of Luke’s soul. It settles the air between him and Ashton, means they’re not silent for lack of civil things to say, but rather because they’re both caught up in the muted beauty of the ocean.

They don’t walk together, because Ashton likes to pore over every single placard and study every creature in minute detail and Luke’s drawn to the pretty, colourful fish. It’s Luke, though, who’s always the last to move on, and Ashton waits for him before they head to the next room. It’s almost nice, Luke thinks, as he heads for the door and sees Ashton slip through it when he sees Luke’s ready to move on, that they don’t have to have awkward conversations about it, that they can just understand and fall into it.

(He tries not to think about why.)

They spend hours in the aquarium, dawdling in every room, because they spent so much fucking money on it and they’re both going to be damned if they won’t milk it for all it’s worth. Luke spends an extra long time looking at the clownfish, for some reason, hypnotised by the way they can weave in and out of the anemones. There’s some kind of symbolism to be found there, he thinks, something about toxicity and safety, but he’s too tired to come up with it himself. Ashton would probably correct him if he tried, anyway.

Ashton’s particularly taken by the sharks, it turns out. He’s already staring at the huge tank in awe when Luke gets into the room, barely even blinking as his eyes follow one shark after the other. The room itself is dark, like the rest of the aquarium, but the tank’s so huge that Ashton’s bathed in light, rippling and shimmering and Luke, for the briefest of moments, feels something sharp stab at his heart, something he remembers feeling the last time he’d stood in an aquarium with Ashton. It makes his stomach clench, twist in on itself, because he knows exactly what he’d identified that feeling as before.

“They’re fucking beautiful, aren’t they?” Ashton says, interrupting Luke’s train of thought before it can take the leap off the cliff edge of panic, and Luke looks up at the sharks.

“I guess?” he says, because he doesn’t really see it.

“You used to like them,” Ashton says, sounding a little surprised.

“I used to like a lot of things,” Luke says. I used to like you, he adds spitefully in his head, and sort of hopes Ashton’s telepathic.

“Guess I’ve got to get to know you again,” Ashton says, and it’s a little wistful, a little sad. Luke doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know what would sum up I’m not sure I want you to, I don’t think I’ll give you a chance and Good fucking luck in a civil way.

They stand there for a while, watching the sharks, and people filter in and out of the room behind them. It feels oddly hypnotic, being stood there with Ashton, the only two static parts of a moving whole. He wonders if the sharks feel the same, swimming aimlessly in their tank, watching the world pass by and powerless to move with it.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton says quietly, after at least ten minutes have passed. It’s so quiet that Luke thinks he might have misheard it - maybe it was the family behind them, or just the sound of the tank - but he can sense Ashton stiffen next to him, like he’s preparing for backlash of some sort.

“What?” Luke says, just to make sure he’s heard right.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton repeats. Luke pauses, waiting for Ashton to elaborate, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t really have to, though, Luke finds, because he knows what Ashton means.

“I know,” Luke says eventually. Ashton swallows, but says nothing, just carries on gazing at the sharks, but out of the corner of his eye Luke can see that Ashton’s gaze is fixed now, not following the sharks around.

They stand in silence until an announcement blares through the system telling them that the aquarium is closing soon, making them both jump.

“What time is it?” Luke asks, just for something to say.

“Uh,” Ashton says, pulling his phone out. “Five.” Fucking hell. It feels much later than that. “Do you want to go back to the hotel?” Ashton adds, like he knows what Luke’s thinking. Luke nods.

“I’m fucking exhausted,” he admits, as they head back up the steps away from the sharks and towards the exit.

“Me too,” Ashton says. “I wanted to stay up until at least ten, but…” he trails off, stifling a yawn, and Luke can’t help but snort. Ashton smiles, small but genuine. “Fuck off,” he says, but it’s good-natured.

“Yeah,” Luke says, as they traipse out into the little shop. “Think I’m just going to crash when we get back.” Ashton nods, pushing open the door to the exit. Luke’s expecting the glare of brilliant sunlight to hit him, squints in preparation for the onslaught of light, but it’s pitch fucking black.

“What the fuck?” he says, sounding kind of perplexed and kind of outraged.

“What?” Ashton says. Luke gestures up at the sky with one hand, and uses the other to pull his coat in closer towards himself, because fucking hell, it’s freezing.

“It’s five o’clock,” he says. Ashton looks up at the sky, and then at him, an amused expression on his face.

“Wrong hemisphere,” he says, and Luke rolls his eyes.

“Fucking miserable place,” Luke grumbles, tucking his arms in and huddling in on himself. “No wonder they invaded the rest of the fucking world, Jesus. I wouldn’t want to stay here either.” Ashton says nothing, but when they pass under a streetlight, Luke sees the corners of his lips tilted upwards, and something warm and pleasant spreads from his stomach outwards.

“D’you actually know where you’re going?” he asks, when Ashton takes a sharp right turn onto a bridge.

“Of course I know,” Ashton says, in that infuriating, I’m-Ashton-Irwin-and-I’m-an-intellectual manner that Luke had never liked. Luke rolls his eyes, not entirely playfully, and jogs to keep up with him.

Ashton leads them across the bridge, past the parliament buildings again, up a long road that a lot of people are ambling down, and then cuts into a small alley on the right.

“You definitely don’t fucking know where you’re going,” Luke says, standing at the mouth of the road, something uneasy in his stomach. “I’m not going down here.”

“I know where I’m going,” Ashton says.

“Where are you going?” Luke says sceptically.

“Charing Cross.”

“Why is that down an alleyway?”

“It’s just a shortcut.” Luke stares at him, narrowing his eyes.

“Why can’t we walk on the main road?” he asks, because it feels right. Something about the alleyway feels wrong.

“We can,” Ashton says. “But it’ll take longer.” Luke makes no indications of moving, and Ashton sighs, and it’s tinged with sadness. “Come on, Luke, are you serious? You think I’m going to, what, murder you in an alley in London?” Well. Not specifically, but something’s telling Luke not to follow Ashton into that alley. Much more than that, it’s telling him not to let Ashton into that alley, but Luke’s trying to ignore that part of it.

“I just don’t want to go that way,” Luke says stubbornly. “Let’s just go on the main road.”

“It’ll take much longer that way,” Ashton says.

“I don’t care,” Luke says. “We’re not exactly fucking wanting for time, are we?” Ashton takes a step further into the alleyway, almost out of Luke’s line of vision.

“Come on , Luke,” he says, and takes another step, and Luke’s stomach tightens uncomfortably as he does.

“Don’t,” Luke says, before he can stop himself.

“Why?” Ashton says, sounding exasperated. “Look, the longer you stand here arguing, the longer it’ll take us either way.”

“I’m taking the main road,” Luke says. “Just- let’s fucking walk on the main road.”

“You don’t even know the way,” Ashton says. “I know the way.”

“I’m not going that way.” Even in the darkness and despite the distance, Luke can see Ashton roll his eyes.

“There’s nothing fucking down here, Luke,” Ashton calls, taking another step into the alleyway, and Luke edges forwards without even thinking about it, needing to keep Ashton in sight. It’s not really working, though, because Ashton’s walking further in and Luke’s at an angle to the alleyway, and it’s making him panic a little.

“Don’t fucking go down there,” Luke says, through gritted teeth. “Ashton, seriously. Just fucking come on the main road with me.”

“What’s your problem?” Ashton says, and even though he sounds genuinely surprised and curious, it makes a flash of anger flare up in Luke.

“Can you stop being a cunt for, like, two fucking minutes?” he bites out.

“Luke, I-” Ashton cuts himself off with a shout, and the anger’s gone, replaced with pure fucking fear and panic and protect protect protect running through Luke’s mind, and Luke’s barely even aware of his surroundings as he takes off, sprinting as fast as he can to the alleyway, getting to the entrance to it just as Ashton comes running out, wild-eyed. He doesn’t stop or say anything, just grabs Luke’s hand as he passes and tugs him hard in the opposite direction. They run to the main road, Luke’s heart pounding in a way that definitely isn’t just from the exercise, and then they run up it, and they don’t stop running until they’re outside the station. Luke doesn’t even realise that they’re still holding hands until Ashton drops his hand to lean on his knees, panting, hair completely windswept as it falls into his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” Luke spits, fury beginning to set in between the racing heartbeats and gasped breaths.

“Someone fucking-” Ashton waves a hand, like it’s going to explain what ‘someone’ did. It doesn’t fucking matter, because those two words alone are enough to make Luke’s heart tighten, to make his stomach clench

“I fucking said-”

“I know, but it’s fucking five p.m., and I always go that way-”

“I told you-”

“I know, Luke,” Ashton says, breathing almost back to normal, and he straightens and gives Luke a look that looks almost sad. “Why d’you think that was?”

“Why do I- are you fucking insane? Because it’s a creepy fucking alleyway? Anyone would fucking know not to go down there!” Luke says, throwing his hands in the air.

“You were so fucking adamant,” Ashton says.

“Yeah, and if you’d fucking listened-”

“Luke,” Ashton interrupts. “I didn’t sense fucking anything.” Luke stops.

“Are you trying to say this is another fucking soulmate experience?” he says. “We don’t have three. Most people don’t even have one. ”

“No,” Ashton says. “I think it’s the same one. The first one. The protecting one.”

Oh.

It’s kind of a blur already, even though it’s only been like, three minutes, but Luke remembers the haze of protect protect protect that clouded every single other one of his thoughts, that stopped anything and everything else - including his own safety - from mattering, that made him move without even thinking, running straight fucking into the alleyway he’d been so uneasy about because nothing mattered more than Ashton.

“Fuck,” he says, and Ashton nods grimly.

“Yeah,” he says. Neither of them need to say didn’t realise it went both ways, because it’s both written clearly across their faces.

“You got this on the fucking phone?” Luke can’t help but ask.

“Yeah,” Ashton says again. Luke rakes a hand through his hair, trying to organise his thoughts. All he can really focus on is the what the fuck and Jesus Christ and fucking hell swirling around in a mess in his mind.

“Well,” he says. “Shit.” Ashton huffs out a shaky laugh, raises his eyebrows, and nods, and Luke thinks that about sums it up.

-------

They don’t talk much on the journey back to the hotel. Luke snipes at Ashton when Ashton tries to show him how to use his contactless card on the barriers, because he’d much rather use a paper ticket, thank you very fucking much, and Ashton calls Luke back when he heads down the wrong escalator. Luke asks once what their stop is and nods when Ashton answers him, and then they don’t speak again until they’re in the safety of the brightly-lit hotel lobby.

Luke’s not entirely sure how to take the silence between them in the lift up to the second floor. It still feels awkward, stilted, uncomfortable, but there’s something grander now, something bigger than the both of them that they can both feel but neither of them want to acknowledge.

Luke fusses over Clifford when they get back into the hotel room, pulls out the pack of dog food he’d brought with him because he hadn’t been sure what brands the UK would have, and Clifford munches his dinner happily while Luke carefully removes his coat and plugs his phone in to charge, not looking at Ashton. It feels overcrowded, even though the room is made for two people and certainly big enough to accommodate both of them.

He takes his time washing up Clifford’s bowl, refilling his water, but Clifford seems perfectly content to doze back off to sleep after his meal, leaving Luke with nothing to do but think about how fucking tired he actually is.

“I think I might sleep,” he says, even though he doesn’t really have to announce it to Ashton. Ashton looks up from where he is on his bed, book in his hand, and nods.

“I think I might too,” he says. “Do you want the bathroom first?” Luke blinks at him.

“Oh,” he says. “Uh. Yeah. Thanks.” Ashton nods, and turns back to his book, but when Luke turns his back to get his things out of his still-packed suitcase, he can feel Ashton’s eyes on him.

He makes quick work of putting his pyjamas on and brushing his teeth, only hesitating with his hand on the bathroom door handle to leave as he throws a quick glance at himself in the mirror, because he looks so fucking disarmed in his pyjamas, so strangely small and vulnerable. Whatever, he thinks, forcing himself to push the door open, because what the fuck else is he going to do, sleep in the bathroom?

“Bathroom’s free,” he says, because it feels like what he should say, turning his back to Ashton and making a show out of putting his clothes in his suitcase. He should probably just unpack it, he thinks - he is going to be here for four weeks, after all - but not tonight. He’s too fucking tired for that.

“Thanks,” Ashton says, and Luke hears the sound of a book closing and then feet shuffling as Ashton heads for the bathroom. He waits for the door to click shut behind him before tucking himself into bed, drawing the duvet close to his chin to try and keep the cold out. Why the fuck is it so cold in England, seriously?

Ashton doesn’t take long, or maybe Luke falls into microsleep, or something, because it feels like it’s about two seconds before he’s coming out of the bathroom, placing his clothes on the chair opposite his bed, and getting into bed. He’s got plaid pyjama bottoms and a casual t-shirt on, and he looks just as disarmed and vulnerable as Luke had in the mirror, which makes Luke feel simultaneously better and worse.

“Can I turn the light off?” Ashton asks, and Luke nods. Ashton reaches over, clicks the light switch, and they’re plunged into darkness.

“Night,” Ashton says after a moment, and there’s a shuffling sound from his bed.

“Night,” Luke says, suddenly wide awake. He rolls onto his side and stares at the wall opposite him, willing the exhaustion that he’s felt all day to return. Even if he hadn’t slept, like, three fucking hours, he should be tired; it’s the middle of the night in Sydney.

He feels the time passing, times it by Ashton’s shuffling and Clifford’s even breathing and the noises from the street outside, and he’s sure it’s been at least an hour before there’s what sounds like Ashton flopping onto his back and sighing.

“Are you awake?” he whispers. Luke debates saying nothing, but knows if he evens his breathing out now it’s going to be pretty fucking obvious he wasn’t.

“Yeah,” he says, a little reluctantly.

“I can’t sleep,” Ashton says.

“Me either.” There’s a moment of silence, and then Ashton says-

“We could push the beds together?” Luke squeezes his eyes shut, and Ashton takes the silence as hesitation. “Just for tonight. We’d sleep much better, and we probably need it for tomorrow.”

“No,” Luke says. Civil is one thing, but spending an entire night pressed up against Ashton? That’s something else entirely.

“Luke, I-”

“Ashton, I said no.” Ashton’s silent for a moment, and then sighs.

“Okay,” he says, and it sounds a little small. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, like. Push.” Luke inhales deeply, exhales heavily, and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s fine,” he says.

Ashton says nothing, but Luke doesn’t hear his breathing even out until Luke himself falls into an uneasy, dreamless sleep, and when he wakes up in the morning, exhausted and grumpy, Ashton’s staring up at the ceiling again (or maybe still).

taglist: @sadistmichael @callmeboatboy @clumsyclifford @angel-cal @queer-5sos @haikucal @tirednotflirting @cthofficial @tigerteeff @i-am-wierd-always

if you want to be added to my taglist pls fill in this form!

#lashton #malum #5sos fic #5sos fanfiction #5sos fanfic #i am so exhausted i am gonna answer messages tomorrow i'm so sorry #but i hve seen and appreciate all of them and i LOVE each and every one of u #and i do not deserve any of u #u are all so lovely and sweet to me and then in return i give u This #hmm...helen is cancelled #its confirmed

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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learning to be silent (multi) — chapter three - roza

[ summary ] : the short program for grand prix qualifications has begun in grenoble, france and while some might be riding above and beyond expectations, some are cracking under the pressure.

[ author's note ] : hope y'all enjoy, finally realized I'll make two chapters for the short program as it was beginning to get quite long to my liking, also that gives me more planning and space — lily.

AO3 / My Tumblr / (´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`)

— *.✧

It was officially setting in for Shea that the short program for the ladies single skate was beginning, even if they had been training and she had given her time and dedication to the competition at hand, a part of her felt unsure if it was truly happening or a completely delusional dream.

The arena itself had an audience of about 4,000 which was definitely not the biggest number but considering the arena size and it was sold out completely, both the Short and Long program final days, Shea was proud to be a part of the experience, though experience didn't win you medals, it did give you exposure.

Being in the first group wasn't a blessing or a curse, she didn't know exactly what she was up against: there was no accurate way to predict figure skating results. Of course Sasha and Brooke were a shoo in to win but you never knew if today was the right one. One small slip or under rotation on a GOE could be the difference between sitting out and winning a medal.

Her Team USA jacket covered her costume as she stretched around the Kiss & Cry. She spotted out of the corner of her eye Katya Zamolodchikova who had covered herself in a large coat, looking beyond happy to see her fellow Russian competitor even if she (herself) had moved now to train in America. It was sweet of her to come and see Sasha perform, as if she needed the luck though it only increased media attention and didn't deter her from absolute madness of press.

Shea began to realize that, behind the perfectly tuned machine that was Katya, there lived a heart of care and love for her Russian sisters. She apparently had a special bond with Sasha, who she lived with, according to Sasha herself during a long conversation with Shea at the rink yesterday.

"First to skate, representing Australia, please welcome Courtney Act."

"Premier à patiner, bienvenue, représentant de l’Australie, Courtney Act!"

Shea couldn't focus on Courtney who had begun skating. it was difficult to warm up however considering her want to scope out the competition. Choosing to do just an unsurprising medley of mambo. It wasn't anything too surprising music wise; she knew Courtney well enough to know she had taken many a latin dance class and enjoyed the style that came with the dancing compared to something slower or with lyrics.

Courtney always had good energy, but that didn't make up for her average technical scores. She was very talented, but unfortunately talent wasn't enough in figure skating,. Shea both admired her and thought she was the dumbest person alive, and she wasn't sure which was more correct. She knew This sport was changing and evolving faster than anyone could anticipate and the only thing left to do was adapt or be left behind: Courtney was slugging behind.

Shea couldn't name anyone else who deliberately asked to not have any quad's in her programs, the other girls at least tried and with good reason: risk was being awarded nowadays over artistry. Shea could fall on every one of her jumps and still get a higher overall score than Courtney, it put less of a worry in her mind.

On the plus side she perfectly landed her triple axel and made it look absolutely stunning. Courtney had definitely the greatest stage presence of her competitors, despite her safe choices. The only competitors who could give Courtney a run for her money in the charisma department were the Russian girls, who were specifically trained to rack up points in any possible way. Of course they’re good at everything.

Not paying much attention until the final few notes, Shea smiled and clapped for her fellow skater who ended with a camel spin. Courtney’s arms were held out, the tassels of her pink and red dress shaking along with her hands. Shea could feel that Courtney also knew it wasn't a winning short program. And yes, there was always the free dance, but with the competition as tight as ever, if you couldn't even catch up on the first day you could kiss that medal goodbye.

The blonde picked up the two bear plushies thrown on the ice for her before meeting her coach who could only hug her as she tried not to burst into tears, the Australian keeping her dignity and self respect in high regard as she sat with her coach and her girlfriend, who she recognized as Willam, not a skater but an established actress who was sweet enough to always come and support her. The Kiss & Cry now obtained by the Aussie who patiently awaited her scores, knowing no matter what number it showed she'd at least have a solid three minutes to be in first place.

"The scores please."

The music dimmed as the audience hushed, the focus all turned towards the screens that would illuminate the judges score. Shea knew in her gut that it wouldn't be enough to keep Courtney in the race for the Grand Prix final, no matter how badly the blonde wanted it to happen.

"Courtney Act has earned in the short program, a total combined score of 72.08. She is currently in first place."

"Courtney Act a obtenu dans le programme court, un score total combiné de 72,08, elle est actuellement en première place!"

Courtney nodded in approval, A smile dimly flashed across her lips; she’d been expecting about an average score. Willam rubbed her shoulders and mumbled into her hair before walking her over to the first place chair where she sat alone, waiting to be replaced in a few minutes. Shea rubbed her hands together and sat down next to Bob and Adore, who anxiously watched the events on the ice. Adore wouldn’t go until last in the second group, so she had a while to warm up beforehand. Still, she refused until she saw Shea skate for herself.

Yuhua and Jinkx both went after Courtney, who was already sulking in the corner with her coach and Willam about her scores and what she needed to do to improve for her other competitions. Yuhua had just barely pulled in front of Courtney, her attempt at a quad saving her from the bottom.

Jinkx, who had dominated the competition when Shea began her adventure as a senior skater was stumbling, to her complete surprise, she under-rotated her quad lutz and fell on her triple axel. Although she had gotten up immediately and skated through beautifully, presentation wasn't everything and her Grade of Execution scores showed that.

Shea and Brooke had been enraptured from the moment Jinkx began to sway downhill. She was the oldest competitor in their qualifications. There was a confidence growing in Shea’s chest as she glared up at the screen for Jinkx' score to be announced. She pulled her hair back and checked her skate guards as everyone watched the utter shame on Jinkx’ face wiped off with an obvious fake smile when "85.05" was announced. some reaction out of the room considering the press around her as the Russian immediately stood up and ran out of the way, wanting to be alone, It wasn't a wonderful day for Jinkx Monsoon.

She was currently holding the reign at first but looking at who was next, it wouldn't be too long of a first place finish.

"Next to skate, representing Russia, please welcome Sasha Velour."

"Après le skate, représentant la Russie, veuillez accueillir Sasha Velour."

The crowd seemed to completely jump to its feet, Shea smiled as she gave a small cheer for the blonde who met eyes with her, noticing that sections of the crowd were spilt with fans waving and screaming with the tri-colored colors of the Russian flag, of course there was always to be at least a corner huddled of Russians when it came to figure skating competitions but being in Europe where travel was twice as simple meant a large amount of traveling support for Sasha, who deserved the love and appreciation, she was their gold star after all.

Sasha couldn't help but feel a smile gaze upon her lips once she was announced aloud, the consistent loud applause and screaming, chanting in Russian definitely helped.

There was always an odd sense of urgency when she would skate, it wasn't the pressure of winning, she of course needed to, it was her damn job to do so but all nerves always melted away when she skated, figure skating was about the story and connection you made as you graciously racked up those points and scores at the minuscule chance you'd even accomplish something— let alone win the gold and that prize money.

Shea couldn't help but glance over at Katya who had gotten up from her seat when Jinkx must've finished skating, approaching Sasha quickly with a genuine smile across her face as she took the younger figure skater in her arms and groaning in happiness, squeezing her tight, almost mauling her over with the sheer size and volume of her fur coat that was covering Sasha.

"Я очень горжусь тобой!"

The Russian wasn't exactly something the American could obviously pick up on but judging by the sheer pride that was exposed throughout Sasha's face she guessed it was a compliment and a compliment from Katya Zamolodchikova was a definite rarity, "Огромное спасибо." The whisper leaving her lips as Shea stripped off her Team USA jacket, knowing she'd be next right after Brooke Lynn went once Sasha was finished with her short program skate.

Katya she was never rude or disrespectful towards competitors per se: she just didn't speak her mind on others and their programs, she focused on herself and even if it sounded selfish in Shea's head it truthfully wasn't, she was just concerned for doing the best she possibly could and winning medals, that's how the hierarchy in Russian skating worked from what Sasha had told her when they ran off alone to the abandoned rink two days before this night of the Short Programs.

"Kill them." She whispered to Sasha in English before the younger Russian immediately skated into the ice and waved happily to the fans and those watching inside the stadium, Shea impressed with the flow of applause and steady stream of flags piling up.

She could hear the excitement breathing on her neck as the music began and she started once the first chords were strummed, her coach was weary of her doing a song with words but had been swayed once hearing Sasha's concept and the fact that it was in Serbian was a huge plus to the Russian crowd as opposed to an English song.

Her feet turned in her skates, twizzling across the ice as she rotated onto her left foot, turning in to her right and out stretching her arms as she twirled into a camel spin, feeling an immense boulder fall off her shoulders getting into the swing of her program perfectly.

Coming out of the spin she skated into an Ina Bauer, her fingertips opening and tightly clenched into a fist before she kicked her leg out and started to feel at peace, the song itself spoke to her beyond belief and she knew a decent amount of Serbian already to know and understand the meaning but many didn't: she had to show she was an artist beyond just her skill in technique. Turning on her skates she waited until the moment before slamming her toe pick in the ice from the back inside edge of her foot, landing on the outside edge of her opposite foot.

Quad Flip, accomplished.

Sasha was a bit more different than her Russian sister's, of course she enjoyed the roar of the crowd and them screaming when her jumps happened but it almost took her out of the moment, Katya always said it fed her energy but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Sasha though she couldn't help but peak at the older Russian who was watching with a permanent grin across her face, finally meeting her match in her own skating sister.

This was the only short program and the world record was held by Katya, an impressive 90.23 score that Sasha hoped to break by the end of the song. Slamming her toe pick in the ground she jumped from her outside edge and rotated three times before landing on the back of her opposite before quickly adding a triple toe for added points before landing again, taking a deep breath for herself noticing she had yet to slip up, she couldn't tell you if the gruesome training and dieting was worth a medal but it was worth the praise and applause despite the obvious drawbacks.

Slowing down the tempo of music she glided across the ice, hands bursting from her chest, it was difficult to not think of her mother while skating to a song she picked specifically due to its story and essence of love.

She spun once skating away from where the judges sat, preparing herself for her quad salchow which she had been working on for days in the training facility back in St. Petersburg, she had nailed the rest of her combinations and quads so far: triples were easy game, it was considered now detrimental to your score if you didn't at least have at least two quads, she jumped in the air spinning before landing and dancing across the ice, hands straightening at her sides before taking off from the back inside edge of her foot and pacing the beat before landing on the back outside edge of the opposite foot to thunderous applause and screaming, Sasha having to give a wide smirk in the moment, it was so difficult to keep focus when you landed the one thing people had been struggling with, that even though she had been struggling and working towards for so long. She prayed she hadn't cheated the move out and take off at the perfect time.

Managing to add in her triple axel and one more quad with the lutz she skated around the edges of the rink, feeling the stares of those watching and the thousands who were behind the screen, those beyond France who were rooting or watching her for the first time in real time.

"Jos jednom, da ga, Pogledam…"

Finishing off her skate with a layback spin she felt herself completely diminished after the last note had been sung, kicking herself out of the spin and landing on one knee before she stopped, as did the music.

Holy shit.

She collapsed on the floor, heavily breathing as she pumped her fists in the air to signal she was indeed not in need of medical assistance, the crowd around her circling in her head as they screamed, the Russian's chanting with pride and hearing a distinctly familiar scream that could only belong to Katya, she propped herself up as the volunteers came on the ice to clean up all the gifts and flowers being thrown to her, she picked up one that had a penguin and smiled, hugging it and waving to the packed stadium who only cheered louder.

Making it onto the ground again, she collapsed into Katya's arms, her coach walking over and wanting her to come quickly to the Kiss & Cry though the older blonde refused, wanting a minute as her fingers ran through her hair and she stood firmly, grounded in silence. Sasha slipped on her skate guards as not a word was exchanged between the two though the gesture said a million other things, she caught a quick glance of Brooke who hadn't cracked under the pressure yet, the Canadian in firm focus as Shea smiled at the Russian who gasped and quickly ran into her arms as well, fingertips on her cheeks, "Shea you're gonna do so, so amazing!"

Interrupting every message of praise Shea had planned in her head, she whispered her words before kissing her cheek before she ran quickly off to the seats, knowing her scores still had to be announced. Shea brushed her hand across the area where her cheek had been kissed, flushing heavily, praying that wouldn't be the subject of media playback but it was certainly worth the questions.

"Sorry, sorry!" She apologized to her coach ruthlessly as she sat, penguin in hand as she parted her hair back, not being able to even describe the sheer want she had to wash her hair at this very moment in time. Her coach gave a decent review of the skate, saying her axel was a bit awkward and they would work on it but she had at least, in her coach's eye, landed all her jumps with no problems concerning the status and rotation.

"The scores please."

Biting her tongue, the Russian slipped on her team jacket and waited hopelessly, not sure what to expect at the moment in time: the applause made her think positively about the entire skate but that didn't mean in technical score it would be perfect, Sasha hoped for a score to at least significantly tie her to the lead for the time being, her biggest competition was Shea, that was a fact: Brooke was always low on presentation score and Aquaria, she wasn't sure what to expect from the newly inducted senior.

"Sasha Velour has earned in the short program…"

The pause in the announcement made Sasha's entire heart stop, gripping her plush with nothing but chapped lips and frizzy hair, pushing back every insecurity that grew in her body about her score before she felt her entire face bleach a pale white upon hearing the score.

"101.72 points."

Her coach had made an audible gasp, Sasha quickly exhaling and trying not to completely break down in tears, the screaming from fans in the stadium not helping. The announcer spoke through the eruption of cheers and talking, "This is a new world record."

"Sasha Velour a obtenu au programme court un total combiné de 101,72 points, elle a établi un nouveau record du monde!"

Sasha stood up and covered her blue eyes with her bare hands, unable to keep in all her emotion much longer before sniffling as tears fled her eyes, ending up across her arm and skin, groaning as she cried and held herself with as much poise as she could, she had beaten Katya's three year record and the older skater could only laugh and cheer, knowing it was soon to come and was glad it was done by Sasha, who now sat at the top and would most likely sit at the top for the rest of the competition.

Congratulations exchanged from Jinkx who still unable to face defeat from her scores hugged her fellow Russian skater and friend, Sasha sat and gave a wave to the camera, laughing at how pathetically red her eyes must be before she stared on to the ice again, watching as Brooke Lynn was to take the ice next.

Shea physically stood wanting to fall of the edge of the earth, there was no way she'd even touch Sasha.

She could, realistically their programs were similar in components but Shea wasn't as delusional as some of her friends. She knew her limits and what she was good at, artistry was not something she could ever excel to a level even comparable to Sasha Velour, who deservedly sat in that first place chair next to Yuhua and Jinkx. Her stomach churned knowing that Brooke, known for her crazy height in elements and perfect executions was next and she still had her teammates: Aquaria and Adore, Sharon putting all her bets on the younger girl she was now raising. Bob grabbed Shea to the hallway next to the rink, suggesting she warm up and actually focus.

"I want to see how this turns out."

The Canadian stretched her legs out before hearing the announcer began to speak, immediately handing Manila her skates, "Take a deep breath, you got this." Her Coaches advice was solid, she often didn't think for herself as she stepped on the ice but that wouldn't win you the gold, especially after seeing Sasha Velour absolutely destroy Katya Zamolodchikova's old world record.

"I'll do what I can."

Realistically, she could kiss at least the short program medal goodbye, she'd get lucky to even manage the top three and a chance for the Grand Prix. She was the best Canadian skater currently for women's solo, she had been an ice dancer when she was younger but learned quickly how much she hated sharing the limelight and how badly she needed to be alone in her thoughts when skating, not having time to worry about a partner period.

Her name was called and she immediately slid into the ice and skated to the center of the rink, appreciation for the Canadian who of course knew French and would be doing a French song for both her short and long program: out of every country she could've been assigned to besides Canada, this is where she should feel at home yet, something about it seemed oddly tipped off.

"C'mon Brooke!" Screamed Detox from her seat in the arena, Alaska rolling her eyes and giving out a muffled laugh, "She still has the blue tips you gave her." Brooke's hair was naturally blonde but as a tribute to her idol since childhood, she asked Detox to dye her hair: the royal blue clearly visible from a mile away though it was slowly but surely fading away, knowing the Canadian she would most likely wash it out soon after competition if she qualified to further events.

Hearing Detox, her face lit up and she gently waved and blew a kiss to the woman who had become somewhat of a mentor and always had been a skating idol to her ever since she started training in Vancouver permanently, the applause and steady stream of Canadian flag's growing made the blonde at least curl her lips into somewhat of a smile, she stood silent, waiting for the piano notes to cue her to stay.

I have to beat Sasha, I don't care if I break my knee after this, I'm winning in France this year.

The piano introduction to La Bohème begun and the Canadian lifted her skates off the ice, intentionally staring at the reflection below her before lifting her head and beginning her projection map. The short program was always far more important to Brooke than the free skate.

Brooke's Edea skates began to skate around the corner of the ice, starting with her triple toe, triple loop combination: waiting for her takeoff she approached forward on the inside edge of her blade, quickly switching to a backward-facing position as the skater's right back outside edge and left toepick jammed into the ice and she took off. Rotating three times before turning one rotation in the air, landing on the back outside edge of the same foot after another successful three rotations, hearing applause but letting it fade out in her thoughts.

That combination was second nature, of course she nailed it, everyone did toe jumps.

Taking off from the back outside edge of her skating foot, she felt herself jump before she somehow landed on the back outside edge of the same foot to excruciatingly loud applause, she guessed in the back of her mind she had landed that quad loop. Brooke always had the upper hand when it came to training and jumping, she did Ballet all her life and still continued to, many skaters didn't find it necessary anymore with so many elements but Brooke believed in artistry and the traditional way which gave her gateway for very fluid programs.

Her Blonde hair perfectly styled, she gave an arabesque as she passed the judge's scoring panel. She couldn't let herself dig so deep into it, she had to her satisfaction landed all her elements so far and now she jumped freely, slowing her program down as the singing and music came perfectly engulfed in one, preparing herself for another quad, this time the lutz that she had just begun to work on without a harness: she landed it in warm up just an hour ago.

As she dug the toepick into the ice she felt herself slam against the floor once she rotated, Brooke ignored the audible gasps and groans, continuing on immediately once her knee had hit the floor— not wanting to even think about it, she knew that cost her the gold today immediately with no doubts, now she was back to square one.

She kept herself in the program as best she could though the disconnect was painfully obvious even to her, no matter how technically gifted she could be: presentation and interpretation was still a big part of the score, it was half of it in fact.

Taking the last of her elements she twizzled across the ice rink, turning an astounding ten times on her outside edge, grabbing her skate and bending her free arm above her head as she finished the pattern in the center of the ice, kicking out a leg before finishing off the final notes of the chaos with an I-spin, fully extending her leg up, Brooke had the flexibility and abilities skaters dreamed they had expect Katya, who had been a trained gymnast but thank god, she was going to compete in the Rostelecom Cup.

The two minutes and thirty seconds allotted seemed to fly by but Brooke didn't think about it until she found herself in her final pose, waiting for the music to end and applause to cut in before she moved, smiling softly and giving a small bow as the red costume she was wearing sparkled in the gleaming lights. "Thank you." She mouthed aloud before waving and taking the roses tossed onto the ice, wanting to break down profusely.

Manila met her once she stepped off the ice, immediately holding Brooke's face to her shoulder tightly, her arms around her back patting her. She knew she didn't want to speak of the fall and little errors she couldn't even see or notice, it wasn't her best but still a damn good effort. The Canadian sniffled once and got herself together as she sat with Manila on the Kiss & Cry couch, camera's placed so lovingly in Brooke's face, just what any skater wanted after crying and sweating. Her coach whispered into her shoulder as she finished putting on her Team Canada jacket, disappointed to be representing her home country with that skate.

"The scores please."

Music cued with a silence, Brooke knew already what to expect with the fall and the dismay of emotions shown in presentation quality, she certainly hadn't beaten Sasha.

"Brooke Lynn Hytes has earned in the short program a total combined score of 90.51, this is a new season's best."

"Brooke Lynn Hytes a obtenu dans le programme court un score total combiné de 90,51."

The utter opposite of joy, there was applause and it was definitely a high score, she was sitting in the silver position and second once again to Sasha Velour who seemed utterly unstoppable. It was almost unfair to Brooke how one person could be so talented, beautiful and intelligent: Russian media treated her like their darling dear and while the Canadian would normally call it a stretch or say it was yellow journalism, it was all entirely factual: she was always kind and honest as can be, nothing but passion for the sport and for her country.

"I'm proud of you honey." Manila's voice spoke up as she brushed Brooke's dusted crystal on her costume, "And you definitely look the most beautiful here, no doubt."

Brooke had to at least giggle, she did and that was thanks to Manila's gorgeous sewing skills. It was definitely a wonderful perk as your costume always helped the illusion of the skating, helped to show your artistry and of course, it was obviously wonderful for photographers.

"I tried my best." The words leaving her lips as she sat next to Sasha, staring at the Russian who quickly got up from her seat and cheered in happiness, paying respects to Shea who was next and one of the strongest skaters here certainly.

Shea didn't expect to feel a certain sense of urgency course through her veins as she threw her skate guards to the bench, taking off her Team USA jacket and handing it to Bob who only could pat her back and say a prayer to the skater whom she had all her hopes riding on, she only trained Shea in the senior level, she mostly worked with Junior and Novice skaters.

"C'mon Shea!" Screamed a clearly disgruntled Trinity who made her ears perk up, looking around as she adjusted the details of her short program costume, admiring the crystals and sheer amount of pink, it was perfect. She had managed to find the Floridian with Alaska and Detox, unsurprisingly though it was sweet they all decided to come and support the team. Trinity gave a large thumbs up as Detox had her arm slung around her waist, speaking to Alaska in low whispers on the right.

They managed to mouth a few final words to each other as her fellow friend and skater made note of her dress.

"You look gorgeous and you skate great, you'll win."

"Not while Sasha is here!"

Her face flushed gently turning as she saw Sasha standing and clapping, as if she was bowing to her match: this was the moment though there was of course the long program tomorrow, hopes were still riding on tonight to get the gold.

Trinity rolled her eyes. Gnawing at her jaw in nothing but stress, she tightly squeezed Detox's hand in comfort: "God, I can't do this, I'm just praying somehow she'll manage a medal." Alaska nodded, more here for Aquaria and Sharon but definitely happy to support Adore and Shea whenever she could, they were all still usually sweet and friendly despite being major competition to each other.

"C'mon Shea!" Alaska yelled, holding out her name in a loud scream before Trinity clapped and cackled, falling on her lap and chanting for her best friend, not one usually stand and jump around she felt it necessary as her best friend took to the ice, this was a huge chance to finally win and though her head said it wouldn't be possible to meet Sasha for the gold, her heart ignored that and let herself dream of Shea winning gold.

"You think she can do it? Beat Sasha?" Detox pondered aloud as Trinity grinned widely, interlocking their fingers, "I know she can, the thing is I don't know if she believes in herself enough." Alaska butted in, "If anyone is as cocky and confident as me it is Shea fucking Couleé, I think she just can't hold back which I doubt she'd ever do in the first place."

Shea skated into the ice around the corner of the rink, waving to the onslaught of American flags before stopping in the center, a prayer whispered under her breath before she looked up, confident as ever.

This is your moment and no one can stop you.

—

"Огромное спасибо." = Thank you very much

"Я очень горжусь тобой!" = [I'm] very proud

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itsmyusualphannie · 5 years ago

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something wrong in the village

Chapter 3/5: leviticus Beta: @candanandphilnot Rating: T Warnings: Transphobia Read on ao3

Summary: Fiona Lester has a secret. Dan Howell thinks they hate each other. Dan meets an online friend and comes to realize something important about himself while juggling a changing relationship with his parents, friends, and Fiona.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

"Daniel!" bellowed Dan's mum, the morning after the end of the festival and, really, too early for anyone to be speaking. "Ten minutes, let's go!"

He didn't move from his slumped position before his laptop, fingers rapid over his keyboard as he thudded out replies on the chat feature in the 'FRIENDS' website. He had made two other matches in the past week, but had ignored them both and hadn't been bothered when he didn't receive a message either. Dan didn't think anyone could measure up to his current conversational partner.

No it's definitely a sock monster! read Phil's most recent insistent message.

you just don't want to admit that you lose your socks, tapped Dan immediately. His fingers hovered impatiently as he waited for a reply, which took less than ten seconds to pop up.

listen, the message read, and Dan could almost hear a stern, disembodied voice informing him of this, my mismatched socks are an aesthetic choice. No judging!

i'm judging, Dan replied. He wasn't particularly judging, really, but it was so fun to rile up Phil - and so easy, too. Dan lost his socks too, just not as often as Phil apparently did. Evidently, it was almost a daily occurrence with him.

A brief, intrusive thought informed Dan that he knew people in real life who lost socks, too. At the festival yesterday, Fiona had been wearing sneakers with brightly patterned mismatched socks. Not that he had been looking at her feet. That would be weird.

:( was his reply from Phil. There was a pause, and then another message popped up.

come on, you have to have weird habits too. not that wearing different socks is WEIRD. haha. tell me your secrets

Dan snorted hard through his nose, and regretted it when it stung. He swiped at the burn and then typed out, i have no secreets? I am the most well behaved guy you'll ever meet. The instant the message sent, his fingers spasmed with the sudden desire to take it back. Because, you'll ever meet was an accident. Dan had known Phil for three weeks, and he certainly felt like he knew the other boy far better than any of his other friends, but something squirmed inside Dan whenever he entertained the idea of meeting this faceless friend. What if Phil was just some old fifty-year-old woman getting her kicks by chatting with a teenager?

Well, Dan doubted that. Phil's knowledge of TV shows and video games was perfectly age-appropriate for a 17-year-old boy. According to the website, he lived within 50 miles of Dan as well, so there was still that tiny chance that Phil even went to the same school as Dan.

Dan, maybe, had thought about that, and had wracked his memory for any 'Phil's at his school, but had come up with nothing. It had been a far stretch, anyway. There was just that small part of Dan that desperately wished for an actual, real-life friend that he could talk to, and share inside jokes with, and laugh about ridiculous jokes, and play video games, and watch movies. He did that with his group of friends, sometimes, but it wasn't like Dan had always thought about when he imagined having a best friend.

That's what he wanted, really. A best friend. And wasn't that who Phil was shaping up to be? They already got along so well...but that could change if Phil actually met Dan. He might realize then, that Dan was the weird, friendless type of loser that actually signed up for a friend-matching website. Well, Phil had done that, too. Dan had a feeling that it was more because Phil was bored, though, and not for any ironic sort of reason.

"Dan, I swear to god!"

The yell from his mum broke Dan from his thoughts, and he jolted his concentration back to his laptop, where two messages were waiting from Phil.

no secrets, sure, read the first message, and then, i still don't know your name lmao.

Yeah, Dan realized. He'd typed 'Bear' as his username those few weeks ago. Phil clearly knew that it wasn't his actual name. Phil didn't know that it was a cheesy nickname his parents used to call him. Potential best mates had to know real names though, right?

With that hesitant thought encroaching upon him, Dan quickly hit out an answer and then sent it. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his backpack and shoes, and left to grab breakfast and head to school. The laptop, left open in his haste, still revealed the last message he had sent.

my name's dan

~~~

Dan hadn’t seen Fiona all day.

It’s not that he was looking for her. Dan had no reason, none at all, to actively search her out. He wasn’t interested in what she was doing. Well, he amended to himself, it was good to keep tabs on his mortal enemy. So perhaps it was a bit concerning that he hadn’t seen her all day.

It wasn’t that unusual. They only had two classes together, both of which were on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today was only Monday, so it wasn’t impossible that Dan would not catch sight of Fiona the entire school day. It was just...it was Monday, and she had been acting strangely at the festival yesterday, and it was probably because of Dan’s lingering headache that thumped in quiet tune to the drums from the Muse concert, but he almost wanted to seek her out.

It was foolish, of course. One shared moment at a music festival, still riddled with insults and clear distaste for each other, was nothing that could erase the years of mutual spite for each other. It was just odd. Dan may have been just a bit intrigued to find out why she had been acting the way she was. Just a bit, though.

“Danny boy!” bellowed a voice down the hallway. It was milling with students slowly collecting their day’s items from their lockers as they chatted. Dan himself was standing in front of his open locker, staring bleakly inside as he pondered the Fiona conundrum. He let his gaze drift slowly toward the mutilated call of his name, eyes bleak. He knew who it was.

The boy jogged up to him a moment later, a grin spread wide on his face. “Mate,” he said, “you gotta come fuckin’ see this.”

Dan didn’t particularly want to come fucking see anything, but he reluctantly shut the door to his locker and followed his friend anyway. ‘Friend’ was a loose definition of their relationship, but Dan didn’t have anyone much closer than his small horde of acquaintances, so he took what he could. This boy just rubbed Dan the wrong way sometimes. He was Australian, which wouldn’t mean much other than the twang of his accent, but he also liked to loudly introduce himself as ‘Sam the surfer!’ to everyone he met as if the fact that he could belly flop on a piece of styrofoam in water had earned him some sort of official title. As he couldn’t exactly ride any waves around town, he rode wheels instead, throwing himself with fervour down pavements and the occasional hallway on his favourite skateboard. He’d been adopted into Dan’s friend group when he’d almost run over Dr Pentland. That, at least, Dan could admit was funny. He’d seen the principal’s shocked face as she’d reeled backwards from the boy zipping past. Although it had morphed into irritation a moment later, the look had been priceless. Dan had snapped a picture of it. That single photo had earned his place in the friend group as well.

“You’re gonna love it,” Sam assured Dan as he trotted down the hall, waving Dan on impatiently. “The rest of the boys are already there. It’s bril.”

Dan hefted his backpack further up his shoulder and followed. Sam ducked around the corner and then into the bathroom. A girl squeezed past Dan to make her way into the bathroom as well, so Dan paused for a moment to let her through.

The school was definitely saving money on this bathroom. They’d slapped a unisex sign on it last year and shut down the other bathroom, claiming diversity for all genders. While Dan thought it was a great idea, he also thought it was bullshit. They could have very well made both bathrooms unisex, but had downsized instead. Now students were more cramped and the bathroom smelled even more like piss than usual.

“Oh, here,” said Sam as soon as Dan ducked into the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind him. He thrust a slender object into Dan’s hand, then turned back toward the group of boys huddled around the corner of the room next to the line of sinks. Another boy was washing his hands next to them, but he just cast a curious glance over at the crowded corner and then left. The girl who Dan had followed inside slipped into a stall, the door creaking ominously as she latched it shut.

Dan only realized that the object in his hands was an uncapped marker when he made his way over to the corner and glanced over the shoulders of his friends. They were talking amongst themselves, but quietly and full of mirth.

“Hey, Danny boy, gimme a hand,” one of the boys called over his shoulder, and a few stepped aside for Dan to step through. He did so, but almost reluctantly.

It was then that he found what they were so focused on. Someone, certainly not one of the boys here now, had drawn a delicate, flowing transgender pride flag. The pink and blue colours were bold and bright, striking against the faded grey chalk tiles.

The boys, uncapped markers obvious in their hands, had drawn crude depictions of genitalia and scrawled slurs around it, but the largest defiant symbol was a massive circle drawn around the stolid flag and a slash drawn across that, clearly defining the group’s feelings about the matter.

“Bril, innit?” Sam chirped.

Dan’s throat hurt suddenly, for some reason he couldn’t identify. His headache, just background noise all day, came to the front of his brain with full force. He didn’t say anything.

“Come on, you’re an artist, right?” urged the boy in front. “I figured you’d have something great to draw. Like tits or summat, I dunno.”

Dan’s limbs were lead weights at his side, his tongue thick and useless in his mouth. He couldn’t - wouldn’t do anything.

The latches to one of the stalls on the far side of the bathroom clicked, and like an encroaching train wreck, Dan’s gaze followed the noise. The door swung open and out stepped Fiona, hair loose and swinging around her shoulders as she did up her trousers. She glanced his way, clear blue gaze meeting his, and wrinkles sank deep around her eyes as she smiled deeply at him.

It was terrible. It was beautiful. It was nothing Dan had ever seen directed at him.

“Hey, Dan,” she greeted. His mind sank like a stone, diving deep into murky waters. He had no idea what was going on. He couldn’t even say “Hey” back to her.

Fiona didn’t seem to care, crossing the room in a few steps to thrust her hands under the tap and briefly scrub them. Dan felt a horrific rush of relief when she looked away from him. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked over her shoulder, reaching for the paper towel dispenser. It whirred, spitting out a short, ineffectual leaflet that she used to swipe at her fingers.

Dan did not reply, but Fiona didn’t seem to notice. She sidled up behind the group of boys, most of whom were utterly ignoring her presence, and simply peered over their shoulders to see what was drawing their undivided attention. Her height was more than an advantage here.

“Ah.”

Dan could only watch helplessly as her expression slipped from something beyond open, the first time Dan had ever seen such a light in her eyes, to a look that Dan could never hope to decipher. He had never seen this new expression on her face either, but it was so much worse than the previous. Her gaze turned back to him, searching his face for a moment, and then it fell to the marker still clenched unfeelingly in his hands. When she looked back into Dan’s eyes, it was with a level, clear stare of pure disdain.

“Right. Hope you have fun, then.” She turned on her heel and left, tossing the wadded paper towel in her hand at the trash bin by the door. It arched through the air and bounced off the rim, landing on the scuffed floor without a sound, but Fiona didn’t stop to pick it up, and she didn’t glance back at Dan once.

Dan had been motionless throughout this entire process, but it was now that he could feel the bile churning in his guts. His mouth reflected it, tasting bitter as he swallowed thickly. Some distant part of him acknowledged his own actions and repressed emotions with a mocking laugh. He didn't know if it was worse or better that he hadn’t said a word through this entire encounter.

“Come on, Dan,” pressed Sam, brilliantly oblivious.

Dan dropped the uncapped marker in his hand. It landed unevenly and skidded across the floor, rolling to a stop against the bottom of the mutilated wall.

“I have to go,” was all Dan could manage.

He left.

~~~

Dan drank three full glasses of water, one after the other, as soon as he arrived home, but the dry taste in his mouth and the nausea brewing in his stomach didn’t go away. The glass clinked dully against another cup as he set it into the sink, bracing himself against the counter with both palms pressed flat against the marble. He didn’t want to understand why he felt this way, but he did. He understood too well.

This was the same all-encompassing self-disgust and hatred that had rushed over him the first time he’d heard the word ‘gay’ and realized it might apply to him. Now it was the other way around, though. That tiny symbol of pride, so stout and enduring in the “progressive” unisex bathroom, now stamped out so cruelly by the whims of sixteen- and seventeen-year-old boys who thought nothing of mocking the acknowledgement of someone’s identity. It didn’t mean anything to them. It meant everything to someone, maybe more than just one someone, in that school. And Dan hadn’t done anything to stop it.

The look on Fiona’s face had somehow made it worse. As if she, Dan’s self-proclaimed mortal enemy, had somehow seen something so disgusting in Dan that she wouldn’t even bother to fight back against him. She’d left. She’d given up.

She’d never, not once since Dan had known her, done that before.

“Hey, Dan!” called a voice from the living room. Dan had gone through the side door of the house when he’d gotten home, so he jumped as he realized his dad had been here the entire time.

He didn’t move from the counter. “Yeah?” he called back, almost reluctant. He didn’t want to move, a deep part of him wanting to just lie down for a while and not think about anything.

“Come here for a sec?”

Dan sighed and dragged his hands from the counter. The marble had been cold against his palms, almost grounding, and the warm air felt sticky against them now. He trudged to the doorway between the living room and the kitchen and leaned against it. His dad was sitting on the couch in front of the television set, a binder and various envelopes spread on the cushions around him and the coffee table before him. “Yeah?”

His dad spared him a quick glance, but then went back to frowning at the stack of paper he held in one hand. “You, uh…ah! Right. We’re going to a wedding next Sunday, don’t forget.”

“A wedding?” Dan repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, my work buddy is getting married - finally - and he invited all of us. Do you have a suit to wear? It’s a semi-formal event.”

Dan just shrugged. “Guess so.” He paused, still feeling that churning deep in his stomach. “Do I have to go?”

“Yes,” his dad said firmly. “We’re all going.”

“Fine.” It wasn’t as if Dan had any plans for that weekend anyway, other than playing video games until past midnight. “What time is it?”

Papers rustled loudly as his dad gave up on sorting them and crammed them into an orange folder. “Uh…” he said. “It’s...one. In the afternoon. Yeah.” He glanced up, then, and something in Dan’s posture must have given away how he was feeling, since his face collapsed into concern. “Are you okay, Dan?”

“I’m fine,” Dan said instinctively.

He looked dubious. “Here,” he said, and shoved a few envelopes to clear the seat beside him, then patted it. “Sit down, come on.”

Dan did not want to sit, but he did so anyway. He had to fish out a crumpled paper from between the couch cushions after he sat down, and he took his time smoothing it out so he could avoid the deep gaze of his dad.

“So,” his dad finally said. “How’s school going?”

“It’s fine,” Dan muttered. The paper was cool against his fingers, but not as much as the marble countertop had been. The faint scrape of the paper edge as he slowly dragged his fingertips over them was soothing.

“Making any new friends?” his dad joked.

The paper dug in a little too deeply, threatening a papercut, so Dan pulled it away. “Losing some, maybe,” he said under his breath.

His dad’s ears were too sharp. “Ah,” he said. “Having some disagreements?”

“You could say that.” Dan’s eyes stung, suddenly, and he blinked harshly. His nose burned with the effort to hold back his emotions. “Do you - ” he started, and then had to breathe heavily through his mouth before continuing. “Do you ever feel like you did something wrong by not doing anything?”

There was no answer for a moment, but then his dad said slowly, “...Yeah, I have. Kind of recently, in fact. Why do you ask?”

Dan shrugged in response. His myriad of whirling thoughts and the sizeable lump dwelling in his throat wouldn’t allow him to say anything out loud, so he just folded the paper in his hands until it was a tiny square. He almost jumped when his dad placed a hand over his knee.

“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about something,” he said, voice soft, and Dan wanted to hurl himself away from it. The nausea was coiling its way deeper into the pit of his stomach and he almost felt light-headed, even though he was sitting. There was something important about the tone of his dad’s voice just now. Something that Dan didn’t want to have to answer.

“You know I love you, right? No matter what. You’re my son.”

Dan just nodded. The corners of his eyes burned.

His dad’s grip tightened on his knee, and then, in an almost forced casual tone, he asked, “So, have your eye on any pretty schoolmates?”

Dan’s gaze snapped up to his dad’s, almost defensively, but the returning expression was nothing less than understanding.

“Any girls?” his dad clarified, and then, after a dragging pause, added, “...or boys?”

Something crumpled inside Dan.

His dad must have seen it, since he hastily said, “You don’t have to tell me! I know what it’s like being a boy your age, it’s just that you never talk about girlfriends or, or boyfriends at all. Or bring anyone round.” He tugged the folded paper from Dan’s punishing grip and opened it, smiling down at the creases. “I just started thinking about it because of the wedding, you know? My coworker is marrying his boyfriend - took him long enough to propose, yeah? - but I told him congratulations the other day and that’s when...well, it’s when I realized I’ve never said anything like that to you. We never really talked about that. And I just want you to know that...it’s okay. Whoever you love, I’ll love. Well, sort of, I mean, I still have to be your dad and threaten your dates, but I - ”

Dan threw himself abruptly at his dad and was caught immediately, although he was clearly startled. Dan wrapped his arms around his dad and buried his face in his neck, feeling the dampness from his closed eyes making their way to the collar of his dad’s shirt. He’d never heard his dad say so much at one time. It hurt, but like the cleanest of cuts, and in the best of ways.

“I love you,” Dan heard himself say, and felt his dad’s laughter through his chest rumbling against him.

“Love you too, kiddo,” he said.

Dan withdrew after a moment longer, swiping ineffectually at his eyes. “I have to...homework,” he said desperately.

“All right,” said his dad, and it was so gentle that Dan wanted to curl up right there, head on his dad’s knees, and have a sob like he was five years old again. Instead, he scrambled to his feet.

“Thanks,” he choked out, and then he headed to his room.

~~~

The laptop was still open from that morning. The screen was dark as Dan dropped into his chair before it. It was hard to believe that a little over three weeks ago, he had changed his life, just a little, for the better when he'd signed up for this cheesy location-based friendship website. He and Phil had talked about nothing but the most casual of conversations, barely touching upon subjects that could be considered thought-provoking in any way.

Dan swiped his fingers across the mouse trackpad, lighting up the laptop screen, and he entered his password. The website and chat screen were still open from that morning, revealing his last message that had given his real name to Phil.

There was a single new message from Phil, timestamped that morning. hi Dan!

Dan's eyes burned, but he had barely just regained his composure from the encounter with his dad. He swiped at the threatening tears, taking a heaving breath that did little to settle his nerves. Maybe it was his message this morning before school, maybe it was what had happened at school, or maybe it was what his dad had just told him. Either way, something inside Dan yearned to be let out. To be known.

Despite his longing, his fingers still hovered hesitantly above the keyboard. He wanted to overthink it, but he knew that if he did, he would never send any sort of message.

hey, he finally sent, a terrible opener. He added, you up?

It was four in the afternoon. Of course Phil was up. This knowledge didn’t settle the anxiety twisting inside Dan.

A reply did not immediately pop up, so Dan switched tabs to Tumblr and scrolled for a few minutes. His computer pinged, then, and he flew back to the website so quickly that he almost closed out his browser on accident.

Yeah. Phil’s reply was almost lacklustre, a far cry from the enthusiasm usually conveyed in his previous messages. Maybe he’d had a bad day, too.

i have a weird question, Dan typed, and he worried his lip between his teeth before adding, you don’t have to answer.

sure.

you...like guys, right?

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation. Yep.

It couldn’t be so easy.

...Couldn't it?

Dan's fingers moved without his permission, daring to test the idea. He forced himself to stop after only one sentence, gaze burning into the screen like he could set the computer on fire and escape from this. The letters stared coolly back, almost appearing emotionless on the screen, but Dan felt that, somehow, Phil would understand the turmoil behind them. It was something he'd never said out loud before, much less typed out in a way that could be held accountable against him.

i think...i do too.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phanfic au #high school #trans phil #misunderstandings

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surveysonfleek · 6 years ago

Text

1296.

Do you prefer apple cider or chai? chai for sure.

Do you prefer pumpkin spice tea, pumpkin spice coffee, or no pumpkin spice? i’ve never tried pumpkin spice. i need to try before it’s gone from starbucks! Have you ever made a stupid mistake? oh yes for sure. Do you ever feel insecure? yes. What does your trick-or-treat bag or pail look like? i don’t have one.

How old will you turn on your next birthday? 28. What are your plans to celebrate? no plans just yet. maybe a small house party. What floor do you live on? we have a two storey house. Do you have a balcony? nope. Do you ever feel alone? not really. i like being alone sometimes. Do you ever feel afraid people will question your sanity? no.

Do you like fall evenings or mornings better? evenings.

What is your favorite way to spend a fall evening? just like any night i guess. depends if i’m staying home or not.

What is your favorite way to spend a fall morning? sleep in, duh. What is your favorite fall drink, if you had to pick just one? i don’t have a favourite drink that’s exclusive for fall lol.

Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? i haven’t watched it in forever.

Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? yes.

Were you a straight A student in math? no.

Would you rather wear orange or black? black. Were you abused or do you know anyone who was abused? i wasn’t. tbh i know of a couple people who were but i’ve never known details and whatnot. Are you scared of something right now? no.

Are you a democrat or republican, or neither? i’m very liberal.

Do you plan on voting in this November’s election? not american.

Do you have trouble keeping your room clean? yes lol.

Who would take care of you if you needed surgery? my family and boyfriend.

Do you have anyone that you can rely on? same ^

Do you tend to wake up early or sleep in? sleep in.

Do you wish you could wake up earlier? not really. it doesn’t fit with my work schedule.

What is the name of your favorite coffee shop in your town? eh. probably gloria jeans.

What is fall weather usually like where you live? always in the 20s during the day.

Do you think you have an accent? i probably do to someone who isn’t australian.

Have you been told you have an accent? yes.

Where do you live (country or state)? australia.

Are there any churches you feel welcome at in your town? sure.

If you could start a church, what would it be like? i wouldn’t.

What color is your favorite laundry basket? we have a white one.

What color is your clothes hamper? red.

Do you use plastic, wooden, or wire hangers? plastic.

What is your favorite shade of yellow? the bright one lol.

Are there any shades of blue that you don’t like? If so, which ones? not really.

What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? get my career running.

Are there paper-thin walls where you live? not really. they’re still thin though.

Do you feel happy today? content.

Are you afraid of getting yelled at? no.

Do you ever experience paranoia at random times? yes.

Who has the best decorated house in your town? idk lol. i drove past a house near me with an amazing garden though. never noticed it before.

What is your favorite part of Halloween? nothing. i haven’t celebrated it in two years.

Is there a cemetery in your backyard? no.

Do you feel a connection to the moon? no.

What does your heart long for? happiness.

Do you know what your purpose in life is? not yet.

If so, what is your purpose? Why are you here? -

If you live in an apartment, what is the maintenance man’s name? i live in a house.

Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? nope.

If not, will you decorate a pumpkin this year? never have.

What are some fall activities you would do with your kids? no kids.

Have you ever seen a fox? yes.

What color are the squirrels where you live? no squirrels here.

Do you find Halloween fun or scary? it should be fun i guess.

Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? no.

What was the last thing you drank? water.

What do the trees look like where you live? ugly lol.

What is your dream vacation? somewhere tropical where i can just relax.

What was the best vacation you’ve been on so far? disneyworld when i was a kid.

What is the best class trip you’ve been on? idk lol. to our nation’s capital i guess.

Did you like field trips when you were a kid? yes.

Do you find museums boring or interesting? i looove them.

What was your school’s rival team’s mascot? idk.

Do you wish you could do your life over again and make less mistakes? not really. i’d rather just learn from them and move on.

What are three issues you are passionate about? haha i’m too tired to think.

What are three countries you have no desire to visit? none come to mind and i don’t wna judge like that anyway. i’m sure there’s beauty in every single country. Do you like your country’s flag? i guess?

Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? haha no.

Do you have a bedspread or a comforter? bedspread.

What size is your bed? king single.

Do you prefer cotton or microfiber sheets? cotton.

Does anyone love you and support you? yes.

What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? sleeping pills lol.

Do you like bath bombs? haven’t taken a bath in forever.

What was the best summer of your life? the ones where i’m out of the country.

What year do you wish you could go back to? my childhood or uni years.

What did your favorite homecoming dress look like? we don’t have homecoming here.

Who is your favorite neighbor? marie lol.

What did you last have for lunch? a donburi bowl.

If someone told you “trick” instead of giving you a treat, what would u do? idk.

Who are your favorite small youtubers? idk.

Who are your favorite big youtubers? meh.

What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? spice girls for sure.

Do you like Disney movies? love them.

Were you ever in the popular crowd? no.

If not, do you want to be popular? no lol.

Would you rather live in a log cabin or Smarthouse? i’d like to try both lol.

Have you ever used an outhouse? no.

What does your middle name rhyme with? no.

What was the name of the first dorm you lived in? never lived in one.

Were your college years the best years of your life? they were!!!

#suvey #surveys #quiz #bored #questions

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villainsblog97 · 6 years ago

Text

A Place Like This (Stray Kids Racing AU)

Warnings: Mild Language

Scenario: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Racing AU, X reader

Prologue

“Racers to the starting line!” You pulled up next to your opponent, he had this look plastered on his face, like this was gonna be a piece of cake or something, it was cocky, and it was only getting your blood boiling more!

His black curly hair was blowing gently in the wind, he gave a little side smirk as he revved his engine.

A girl walked up to the starting line carrying a Blue bandana, she brought it high above her head as you heard the crowd cheering for the race to finally begin.

“Racers ready!” She smiled, you revved your engine in response. “GO!” She swung the bandana down as both of you shot down the line like a bullet.

You maintained good speed, using every opportunity you had to pass your opponent, you didn’t know his name, or anything about him, all you knew was that he was going to loose, big time.

The first corner came and you drifted it smoothly, leaving the other racer in your pit of dust, you couldn’t help but smile a little, it felt good... no, it felt Amazing.

Dad would be so proud, you thought to yourself.

You saw the headlights of your nemesis coming closer and closer, you couldn’t let him win. You shifted your speed and managed to stay in front, but you kept almost falling behind. You finally saw the finish line, the line to mark the new champion, and dammit, it was going to be yours.

Sure enough your tires slid across the finish line, you hit your brakes and sat back in your seat, you couldn't believe it... You had won.

The car pulled up behind out you, he got out and his friends circled him, completely in shock.

“What happened Man!?” one asked him. “Guess she was just better than me” He smiled.

You collected your prize money that was put out at the beginning of the race, the flag girl congratulated you. “You got some serious talent girl! it’s almost impossible to beat one of the members of Stray Kids”

“Stray what?” “Stray Kids, they pretty much run our streets” She smiled. You walked up to the group a tapped one of their shoulders, it was your opponent.

“I heard you guys are called.... Stray Kids?” “That’s us” a ginger said, you definitely picked up on his Australian accent. You looked at your opponent.

“So is Stray Kids what I call you, or do you all have names?” “Well, that one there is my buddy Felix, and next to him is Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin, that one is Woojin and Minho, and Seungmin, and that’s our youngest Jeongin, as for me... I’m Chan”

“Nice to meet you Chan” You smiled. “You too... you had some killer skills out there, what are you doing in a place like this?” He smiled back. “I heard about this place from some guys, I thought I’d check it out, but I didn’t know you guys all ran these streets, I was told it was almost impossible to beat you guys” “It’s definitely not easy” Hyunjin spoke up. “I see... so you all race together... how long have you been doing that for?” “Just about two years now, Jeogin is our newest to the road, he’s only 18 as for everyone else, we’ve been at it since we got licensed, what about you?”

You were about to respond when your phone went off in your back pocket. “Hold that thought” You said as you reached into your pocket, you saw your Uncle’‘s name on the caller ID.

“Sorry, I gotta go!” you smiled as you bowed to the guys and walked back to your car. “Wait” Chan stopped you. “We never did catch your name...” “Right.. Its (Y/N) sorry but I have to go” You smiled as you walked back to your car. “(Y/N)” he repeated as he watched you walk to your car. “Something about that name seems really familiar” He thought. “Yeah no idea dude” Jisung said stretching his arms out to the sky. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly interested?” Woojin asked him with a raised eyebrow. “N-No... I just... I feel like I've seen her before, even talked to her a little bit as well.

You pulled up to your house and turned your engine off, there was something about that guy that seemed really familiar, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but you felt like you’ve seen him before.

You shook your head and got out of your car and walked inside. “Hey kiddo” You uncle greeted you. “Hey...” You sighed as you sat your bag down. “You were out late” he laughed. “I am twenty one... I am allowed to go places” You smiled as you sat your keys down. “I was just stating a fact” He laughed. “What did you do today?” You asked as you pulled a bottle of water out the fridge. “You know the usual activities of a sixty year old retired man” He smiled as he saw you sit on the couch. “Sounds nice... “ You laughed as you sat the bottle on the coffee table. “What about you?” He asked, you froze for a second, you hadn’t be exactly telling him that you were out racing. “Oh you know.... just running around town” You smiled. “At almost midnight?” He asked confused. “Well you know... I was kind of looking for a quiet place to read and just have some me time” You smiled. “I guess that makes sense” He smiled as he got up out of his chair, you gave a silent sigh of relief. “Well this man is tire and old, he’s going to be turning in for the night, I’ll see you in the morning before work” He kissed your head and walked into his room.

The next morning you walked into the small diner you worked at, it was like an old 50′s diner, vintage stuff was all over the place, you slipped on your apron and grabbed your note pad and walked out onto the floor and began taking orders.

Chan, Jisung and Felix walked inside the diner looking around, he was mostly trying to drown out Felix and Jisung stating the obvious fact that they were apparently starving.

“Why did I agree to take you two with me...” He sighed. “Hey Mate, isn’t that the girl that whipped you yesterday?” Felix asked. “That so is” Jisung finished cutting off Chan completely.

They took their seats inside a booth and grabbed the menus, Chan couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and then it hit him. You were the waitress that he had a crush on.

“You think that’s the same waitress that he’s been staring at for weeks now?” Felix asked as he looked up from his menu. “Definitely… look as Chan Hyung, he has that same dumb face he always made every time he saw her” “It’s not dumb!” Chan pouted. “Sh! here she comes” Jisung whispered.

“Hi what can I... Oh! hey Chan, Felix, Jisung”

“Hey (Y/N)! I didn’t know you worked here!” Jisung spoked sarcastically.

“Yeah.. anyway what can I get you guys” you smiled holding up your notepad.

“Felix and I will have the ham and cheese omelet with two chocolate milkshakes and Chan will have the bacon and eggs, orange juice and your Phone number!

Chan looked at Jisung and Felix with a red face, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment, or anger.

“He’s kidding” he laughed nervously. “No I’m not” “Yes he is” He laughed again making sure he was giving Jisung a death glare right out of hell.

“Sorry, I can give your everything except the number, I like my job and can’t get fired” You smile writing everything down on the note pad.

“I’ll be right back with those drinks” You smiled as you walked off.

Chan smiled as he watched you walk again, he waited until you were in the back before he whipped around and smacked Jisung right in the arm.

“Ow! what was that for?” He whined as he held his newly bruised arm. “Her phone number! Really Jisung!?” he snapped, Felix looked back and forth as if he were watching a tennis match. “I was just trying to help you out!” “I don’t need your help thank you!” “You literally never say more than two words to her and now that she kicked your butt in a race you decide that you’re Mr. Confident?” “I don’t need your help, end of story”

You brought the drinks to them and let them know the food would be done soon. “Um...Hey…(Y/N)” he began. “Five O'clock.... I’ll be waiting” You smiled, he was completely taken aback, it was like you could read his mind or something. “Really? What are you uh... thinking?” “I’ll leave that to you” You smiled as you walked off.

“Did... she just ask you out? Or did she answer you asking her out?” “I think... I just asked her out... I think” “I think she definitely answered your question mate” Felix nodded talking a drink of his chocolate shake. “Looks like Channie Hyung has a date!” Jisung cheered.

When you gathered up all the stuff from there table, there was ten dollar tip lying on top of a napkin, you looked at the writing and saw Chan’s number on it, with the message I’m Thinking Pizza.... Sound good? above it. You smiled and slipped the napkin and the tip in your apron, you went on home to change out of your work clothes, you pulled out your phone and texted the number and told him your address and what time you would be ready.

[6:25] You put on your outfit of choice and did your makeup and your hair, you checked yourself in the mirror to make sure you weren’t overdoing anything. “What is this? Does my niece have a date!?” Your uncle squealed. “A friend from the r-.... from the diner, apparently he has been wanting to ask me for a while now...” “What’s his name?” He asked. “Chan...” “Interesting name, do I get to meet him too?” “Don’t embarrass me...” “I won’t” The doorbell rang and your head shot up. “I think that’s for you” you jumped up and ran out of your room to answer the door.

“Hey there” You smiled at Chan, damn he looked good, did he look this good when you raced him? “Hello” You smiled, your uncle came up behind you giving him some kind of dad glare. “Oh Chan... this is my uncle...” “Please to meet you sir!” He smiled “Yeah... you too” He glared. “Oh for the love of god... we’ll be going now” You smiled and grabbed your jacket and bag.

“Sorry for all that... he doesn’t usually act like that” You laughed as you walked to his car. “No it’s no problem” He laughed back. “So what pizza place did you pick?” You asked as he opened your door. “Actually I picked up some... I kind of wanted to take you somewhere if that was okay” you smiled and nodded a little nervous.

Chan pulled up to a cliff and opened your door. “Is this where you kill me and throw my body over the edge?” You smirked. “Darn you figured it out” he laughed as he pulled out a blanket and laid it on the ground and sat the pizza box down with two sodas.

“Wow you really thought of everything didn’t you?” You asked as you sat on the blanket. “Well if it’s more memorable there’s a chance I might get a second one” He smiled at you, you couldn’t help but blush a bit. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure ask away” “Why me? out of every girl at the race tracks, hell just even in town, why me, of all people?” “I don’t know really, the minute I saw you I just... got this feeling, that.. I had to get to know you, and then I saw how you raced and kicked my ass and... it made me want to know you more”

“I see...” You nodded as you took a slice of pizza. “However if you end up finding me really boring, you don’t have to talk to me anymore” You laughed a little, “I’ll let you know” you laugh.

The night went better than you’d ever thought, Chan was a really sweet guy, he was funny and charming, he cared for all his friends as if they were his brothers, the way he talked about them, almost made them sound like they were his brothers.

You shared your stories too, you told him how you lost your parents in a car accident and you were living with your uncle since then, you told him some of your hobbies, you also told him how guilty you felt because you were lying to your uncle about racing.

The sun started setting, the wind started picking up and it made you cold. “Here” He took the blanket and shook all the dirt off of it and draped it over you as you two sat on his car. “Thanks...” You smiled pulling the blanket over your shoulders. “I hope you had fun tonight” He smiled. “Best date…” You smiled at him locking eyes. “This is gonna sound like a really weird thing to say... but I really want to kiss you... would... that be alright” “Okay” You smiled as he took your hand gently into his, he caressed your cheek and slowly leaned in to you, your eyes slowly closed, you could feel his warm breath on your cold lips, but they went warm when you felt his lips against yours, his kiss was tender, and gentle, you couldn’t help it, you leaned in more kissing him back, his hand ran down to your neck pulling you closer to him, his kiss was getting deeper, you ran your fingers in his hair feeling every curl brush against your knuckles. You two finally pulled away for air, your breath against his, he laid your head on yours. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone...” He sighed out. “I could say the same thing...” You smiled. “Does this mean I get a second date?” “I think your pizza on a cliff with the sun setting and making out on your car definitely qualifies a second date, and a third, and a fourth and -” you were cut off with his lips against yours again, you couldn’t even think anymore, what year was it? what month was it, was it still September?

“That works too” You smiled. “Sorry” he laughed a little. “No no It’s fine” you smiled.

He brought you back home and you two shared you third hundredth kiss that night, knowing that was only one of many kisses to come.

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blamebrampton · 7 years ago

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Eurovision 2018, Semi Final 2

I’m watching on replay and it’s getting late, so this is going to be as swift as possible. We open with a gorgeous montage and I really do feel like going to Lisboa after this week, were I not broke as a broke thing. The women are back and they look great. The NCIS one has come in an assassin’s cocktail dress, the saintly one is dressed like a tasteful wedding cake, the blonde has come over all black swan and the little one has picked up on last semi final’s sci fi villains theme and is cosplaying Servalan. They are doing nautical allusions again and I will continue to ignore them wherever possible. And also their jokes. They are lovely people, but I am here for the singing.

1. Norway, Alexander Rybak, That’s How You Write A Song. He’s back! With the air fiddle this time. In fact, a raft of air instruments that are animated in. Look, he’s still cute as a button and charismatic as a puppy, but this song is reminding me of Cliff Richard and that is not something I wish to be reminded of. It’s no Fairytale. ACTUAL violin has just appeared! About bloody time. He nearly transcends the song, but the song is well meh. Watch it win now. Backing dancers exist and are perfectly fine. Let’s move on.

2. Romania, The Humans, Goodbye. White dress, drink. No, it was a fakeout, the lead singer is wearing purple. She’s surrounded by band members in white with creepy white masks. And mannequins in in gimp suits, also with creepy white masks. I’ve got a real Bonnie Tyler vibe here, which is at least a step up from the last song. BIG power chords into the main body of the song. She’s exhorting the mannequins to live their best life and I cannot bear to break it to her. White dress girl is back, she’s the cellist and I respect a band with a cellist. BIG HERO NOTES! ooh, her purple frock has matching shorts. Nice. Song was OK, band was great.

3. Serbia, Sanja Ilic and Balkanika, Nova Deca. Pipes and wailing vocal intro and I am sold already. If I was up this morning, this would have had my vote. Soz, kids. Three girls wailing mystically with a man looming behind Rasputinly. Seriously, his whole outfit is mad monk. Big Taiko style drums with an enthusiastic man beating away — erm, on the drums — and now some dance beats to lift it. I have to say that I would love this on the club floor late at night when you want something a bit slower and trippier. The girls’ outfits are sort of earth goddess meets debutante. I’m not going to lie, I flipping loved this one.

4. San Marino, Jessika, featuring Jenifer Brening, Who We Are. Lead singer in a lacy red frock over undies. Two human girl dancers and a set of robot dancers. Look, Ive seen worse. Jenny B has just stonked out down the walkway rapping determinedly and it’s all … fine. It’s a perfectly fine song and there will be some young folks who love it. A robot is holding up body positivity messages, actually, the poor wee thing just dropped it, but now he’s holding hands with the singer. It’s a bit community centre talent night, but they’re enormously likeable and I wish them well.

5. Denmark, Rasmussen, Higher Ground. Sudden plunge into darkness. Faint mystic chord as of pipes over water. Dry smoke. Backlit bearded man standing on a ramp. Square sails and more bearded men. Yes, we have hit peak Viking for the night and there is chanting and stomping and more beard pomade than is probably safe in an environment with pyro. We’re singing about men laying down their swords and making their mark and it’s all very Scandirevival, but I have to confess I rather like it and they can all bloody well sing. I have a nose full of North Sea wind and my cheeks feel windbitten at the end of this song, Oh, look, a white flag of peace. Sure. Key change! Snorri Sturluson would love these guys. The boy Aussie commentator has just said they remind him of when Durmstrang walked into the Hall in Harry Potter and he is right on the money. Definitely a contender.

6. Russia, Julia Samoylova, I Won’t Break. Set design is from the cousin of whoever did Estonia, so it’s nice to have two iceberg singers in the one contest. Super dancers: ballet this time, with Russian technique, which is always lovely to see. Look, I disagree with her politics and her country, and the song’s another meh one, but I wish her well. Moving on.

7. Moldova, DoReDoS, My Lucky Day. They have brought a whole miniseries in the staging of this song. She’s seeing blue suit, but red suit behind his back. Now she and red suit are official, but blue suit is getting some on the side. Lots of comedy from the dancers in the background, who are working within a white box set. It’s silly, it’s saucy. it’s a lot of fun. It would absolutely be the theme song of a sex comedy from 1959 starring Sophia Loren.

8. The Netherlands, Waylon, Outlaw in ’Em. Steel string guitar, pulsing lights and wailing vocals. I’m sorry, I’m allergic to wailing dead dog country that uses gun metaphors, They’re very talented, just not my thing. I’m sure he’ll make a fortune in America and good luck to him.

Short presenter is down with the audience and why?

9. Australia, Jessica Mauboy, We’ve Got Love. Cards on the table, I love Jess. She is a super lovely person as well as a great singer. I don’t the song is quite as good as Dami’s Sound of Silence, but she can perform like a goddess. She is bringing her inner Beyonce with the hair and squats, and selling the lyrics, which are basically, ‘don’t give up, we’ve got love’ and look, sure, but this is a country that numbers Sia, Nick Cave and Kate Miller Heidke among its leading lyricists and I just feel we could have done better for our Jess. But she is putting it all out there, and getting the crowd in on side. The drapey bit on her minidress is a bit distracting, but who gives a proverbial, she’s a champ and she should definitely go through to the finals.No matter how absurd it is that we are there.

10. Georgia, Ethno-Jazz Band Iriao, For You. My first question is whether that is actually the group’s name or if they added a little descriptor for the booking agent once and it’s stuck. It matters not. Lovely quiet jazz piano opening, then classical vocals soaring over the top, dry ice already, and a chanting backing vocal that is somewhere between Gregorian monks and Il Divo, but entirely pleasant to listen to. The vocals are very tight and the arrangement intelligently spare and restrained in parts to show off the voices. I approve! There is a lot of eyebrow emoting, but I don’t mind that in a dark Eastern European man, it’s like queueing if you’re British or buying sausage sandwiches at hardware shops on weekends if you’re Australian. That was a good three minutes for me, I hope they get through!

11. Poland, Gromee, featuring Lucas Meijer, Light Me Up. They are wearing ridiculous hats. More Pharrel than Devo, but the sort of hat that will stand in for a personality when you’re young and nervous. Fair enough, some of them look about 14. Good performers, strong backing vocals and the sort of winning stage performance I would have loved the first 250 times I saw it. It’s not your fault I am old and jaded, Gromee, but I am. There is pyro, there is hand dancing, he is dancing with the audience, he is counting. It’s all fine. OK, bye.

12. Malta, Christabelle, Taboo. She is standing inside four big screens and now a heart is glowing against her black dress. People writhe on her screens and the world spins out from her hands. She is singing about the need to respect and support each other in a world that can be hard and cruel. I… I really like her. I’m not sure whether I also like the song or if I just find her so committed to it that I think I like it, but it doesn’t really matter. There’s a real dancer inside the screens now, and Christabelle loves us all. I love you too, Christabelle. I would totally invite you to my barbecue with Jess.

13. Hungary, AWS, Vislát Nyár. Going for the risky Lordi without masks vote, they drum their way in and then launch straight into rich, angry, headbanging lyrics that are upset about something but my knowledge of Finno-Ugric languages begins and ends with a song about little piggies. Another performance with sincerity rather than just polish, though, and that counts. CROWD SURFING GUITARIST! He’s been returned safely, bless you lovely Eurovision crowd. Angry shouting, epic pyro, lots of drumming. There we go.

14. Latvia, Laura Rizzotto, Funny Girl. Another red lace minidress, with a train this time. Actually, it’s more a shorts dress. A playsuit with train. She looks lovely whatever it is. Her song is apparently about a girl who just a wee bit of a stalker. You know you can tell a chap you like him and not just hang around waiting for him to notice you, yes? Some nice bits of tricky tempo and big hair singing. It’s not my cup of tea, but it is well brewed.

15. Sweden, Benjamin Ingrosso, Dance You Off. Brief moment to mention it is bloody freezing in Sydney tonight, for the first time in forever. This is another very polished performance from a skilled performer and it’s doing nothing for me. Might go and find a blanket for my wee toesies.

16. Montenegro, Vanja Radonovic, Inje. Man at piano, women in background, intense man in front, who is Vanja. He is upset. Possibly because some bastard has bedazzled the crap out of his suit. Nice vocals in the ballad, though. The girls are striding, the piano is staying still, which is as it should be. Ooh! The girls are playing statues. Nice. There is a lot of emoting, but the girls’ costumes and facial expressions make it a little unfortunately close to ‘help us, we have been enslaved by vampires and need you to stake us to free our souls’. Lighting and key change, but otherwise much as before. The girls are still suffering. It’s probably a complex retelling of current politics.

17. Slovenia, Lea Sirk, Helva, Nei. She has pink hair so I like her already. Backing dancers are muscular and fast, I like them, too. Do not bother any of these women or they will make you regret it almost immediately. Her frock is another curtain over undies number, but with more plastic than most others. Who can explain it, who can tell you why? Their music cuts out at one point and they get the audience to clap their beat and I am not certain that was real, but it was nicely handled. Confirmation that was a faux error on the music. Whatevs. As no-one says anymore.

18. Ukraine, Melovin, Under the Ladder. Before I hear a word, I learn he likes horses, David Bowie and Verka Serduchka, so we’re basically friends now. He opens the song in a crypt, which opens up in a cheerfully cheesy Hammer Horror way. He’s dressed like an old-school vampire and the crypt is really the inside of a giant piano at the top of a set of stairs. Clearly Dead or Alive were 30 years too early for this chap, but I am glad YouTube will let him experience them. As everyone guessed, he is back up the stairs to play the piano, soulfully. And now the stairs are on fire, and there’s random pyro everywhere. Of course there is. Vampires love fire. At least dress your backing singers as avenging villagers, who have finally arrived to free the girls from Montenegro.

And we are done! Voting is about to open. I am fast forwarding through this bit because life is too short. ESCLOPEDIA IS BACK! Hello bearded man! More clips from past songs, and an allegation that there is a link between Eurovision and fashion. That is A LIE. You know, Portugal, you’re no Sweden and the women are no Petra and Mans, but I respect that you have kept these interval bits short and cool.

I spoke too soon. Presenters are back with costume changes. NCIS is in a short blue cocktail dress, Blondie is in a pink line dancing dress, Saintly is wearing a costume from my Grade Two Tap exam and the little one is cosplaying Severus Snape. They are doing dance moves from Eurovisions past. The Little One is actually pretty funny, but you will have to download it as I am not up to describing that much physical comedy. There is a Riverdance moment. Which I believe is obligatory for every third Eurpovision.

They run through the acts again, and Denmark’s lead singer has brows you could crack nuts on. Walnuts. Not the other kind. Though he looks as though he would be against toxic masculinity, so perhaps that would also be OK.

Votes are closed. We are touring through Portugal. It is very lovely. The acts are ding the bits that have preceded every song and coming out through their doors and visiting locations and generally cocking a lot of it up, bless them. They look as though they are having fun.

Little presenter has just turned up at the Aussie table and is handing out pastéis de nata a la Oprah and Jess looks as though she is in heaven. Custard really is that good.

Saintly presenter is talking about Eurovision’s role in Portuguese politics! 1974, the year Sweden won with Waterloo, was the year that the Portuguese entry was chosen to be the signal for a revolution. It was played on the radio in the early morning as a signal to take to the streets and by the end of the day there were carnations in gun barrels.True story.

Black swan presenter has found British fans and I think they may have been on the drink, but they say lovely things about Portugal (and Jess), so well done, kids!

Bridal cake presenter is introducing the tracks from France, Germany and Italy and Little One is with them. The French performers are cute as, and sing last years’ winning song in French. Suck ups. But lovely voice. Ooh, NCIS has taken over with Germany. who looks a little like Josh Widdicombe. He’s doing a ukulele cover of Fly on the Wings of Love and I confess I liked it. The entry is nice, too. Look forward to the full version in the finals. And now it’s Little One again with Italy, who really look 100% drunk. But they have spectacular hair. And do a chorus of Nel Blu Dipinto Di Blu, ‘Volare! Oh-oh. Cantare, oh wo-oh-oh’ They are SO VERY drunk. Or just exhausted after sitting through 17 hours of this.

Jon Ola Sand says the votes are in. Thank Zeus!

The winners are: Serbia! Fair enough. Moldova! Excellent. They were hilarious. Hungary, because all those Norwegian Death Metal fans were there for you. Ukraine, sure. Sweden. Really? Look, you’re a lovely country. Australia! YAY JESS! Norway, meh. Soz Sasha. I love your country. Denmark, which is entirely fair. Slovenia, which is good news. Last spot goes to The Netherlands, which is fine, the country and western people need something. That’s it till Sunday morning, Which will probably be Sunday night, let’s be honest.

#eurovision #eurovision 2018

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thisdaynews · 5 years ago

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Davis Cup: What worked, what didn't & what needs to change

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/davis-cup-what-worked-what-didnt-what-needs-to-change/

Davis Cup: What worked, what didn't & what needs to change

Spain beat Canada in Sunday’s final to win their sixth Davis Cup title – but the first in the new format

With Rafael Nadal falling flat on his back on the baseline, his triumphant team-mates running on court to pile on top of him and a partisan home stadium rocking with pride, it was a familiar scene as Spain lifted the Davis Cup.

Yet, while the celebrations were similar to many we have seen in previous years, the host nation’s first success since 2011 came at the end of a very different week in Madrid.

Unlike in the past, Spain’s victory over Canada was not the only Davis Cup tie to take place in November as the tournament culminated. Instead it was the end of an 18-nation finals self-styled as the ‘World Cup of Tennis’.

The football-style knockout tournament, a bold concept conceived and financially backed by Barcelona defender Gerard Pique and his Kosmos investment group, faced a barrage of criticism before it had even started.

And, as with any new event, especially one of such size and stature, there were teething problems in the Spanish capital.

But there were also many memorable moments in what proved to be a high-quality tournament on the court.

Here, BBC Sport analyses what worked in the new-look finals, what perhaps didn’t and the lessons that must be learned before next year’s event.

Spain beat Canada to win Davis Cup

Jamie Murray column on Davis Cup improvements

The star names sprinkle stardust on the new finals

For years, the common consensus had been the 119-year competition needed to change.

Top players, worried about burn out on the punishing ATP Tour, were regularly not turning out to play in a 16-team world group that saw home and away ties spread over four weekends throughout the year.

Pique, a tennis fan said to have been a promising junior player, was the catalyst for change.

But his intervention, and the changing of a tradition which had existed in the previous format since 1981, was not welcomed by tennis die-hards, including the most recognisable player on the planet.

Swiss great Roger Federer resisted the change and urged that the competition should not become the “Pique Cup”.

While the 20-time Grand Slam champion was not present in Madrid after Switzerland failed to qualify three of the other ‘Big Four’ did play.

Rafael Nadal, Novak Djokovic and Andy Murray were the star names present as 11 of the world’s top 20 singles players also appeared at the event. Russian world number four Daniil Medvedev and German world number seven Alexander Zverev were the only members of the world’s top 10 who pulled out in spite of their nations qualifying.

The presence of so many key players was seen as an encouraging sign by Pique and ITF chief David Haggerty.

“When we started a few years ago with the project of the new format, what we wanted basically was that the top players participate in the competition. I think that was a fact,” Pique said.

“You saw here the top players playing and representing their countries.”

Whether that will continue to be the case largely depends if a merger with January’s 24-nation ATP Cup – created by the men’s tour and attracting all the top-ranked players except Federer – can ever be agreed to avoid a situation where two men’s team events take place within close proximity of each other.

Star names were not only evident on the tennis court either as Pique’s long-term partner Shakira, the Colombian pop singer, provided the pre-final entertainment – presumably not for the large appearance fee she would usually command

Different format, same emotions stirred

Try telling those competing in Madrid – and their compatriots who had spent time and money travelling there – that the new format had devalued the competition as some suggested.

World number one Nadal tore around the Caja Magica as he won all eight of his singles and double rubbers to inspire the Spanish.

Novak Djokovic along with the entire Serbia team were left close to tears following a dramatic quarter-final loss to Russia. In an emotional news conference post match, Djokovic’s doubles partner Viktor Troicki – who played a woeful third-set tie-break – said he felt “the worst ever” after been given the chance to “be the hero, only for God to take it away”.

Former world number one Andy Murray was contorted with nervous emotion as he watched his older brother Jamie and Neal Skupski try to put their nation into the final by beating Nadal and Feliciano Lopez in a decisive doubles rubber.

And try telling Spain’s Roberto Bautista Agut, who was left in tears after winning his singles rubber against Canada three days after the death of his father, that representing his country was still not of significant pride and honour.

Fears the emotion could be sucked out of the competition proved wide of the mark, although it remains to be seen what a finals weekend without the host nation competing would look like.

Great Britain, cheered on here by team-mates Andy Murray and Kyle Edmund, reached the semi-finals in Madrid

Empty seats for most matches – give them to the kids?

Patriotism was not in short supply in the stands either.

Clearly that peaked during the Spanish ties where the Caja Magica stands were a sea of red-and-yellow flags as the partisan home crowd, encouraged to make noise by a jaunty brass band and a man barking out instructions through a football terrace-style megaphone, willed their team towards a first Davis Cup triumph since 2011.

That understandably gave those matches a flavour of the ‘old’ Davis Cup – and an advantage to Spain.

While some other teams were well backed – notably Great Britain, Canada and Kazakhstan, thanks to the help of their national federation – other matches were played out in half-full arenas.

Even Saturday’s first semi-final between Canada and Russia saw huge swathes of empty red seats.

The Lawn Tennis Association (LTA) offered 875 free tickets to British fans for the semi-final against Spain – at a cost of about £60,000 – and British captain Leon Smith thinks there should be an arrangement between organisers and the governing bodies of all 18 finalists to subside support in the future.

“The most important thing about Davis Cup is obviously trying to maintain the atmosphere,” he said.

“Why doesn’t that become the norm that there’s X amount of investment given to each federation to get a core group of fans?”

Spain’s two group games and Sunday’s final were the only ties to officially sell out the 12,500 capacity Manolo Santana court, according to the tournament’s online ticket portal.

“I do think the organisers missed an opportunity there by not giving the unsold tickets to schoolchildren and getting them in to watch the matches,” British player Jamie Murray said in his BBC Sport column.

“That would have been a good idea and would have exposed young kids – the future of the sport as potential players and fans – to tennis.”

A second venue in Madrid would prevent 4am finishes

While Spanish custom dictates the nation generally stays awake until the early hours, a major problem which arose was ridiculously late finishes in some matches with ties outlasting all but the most nocturnal of fans.

The group tie between the United States and Italy was the most startling, eye-rubbing example, finally ending at 04:04 local time to become the second latest finish in top-level tennis history behind Lleyton Hewitt’s win over Marcos Baghdatis at the 2008 Australian Open which ended at 4:33am.

“We expect that some games will be finished late, but obviously 4am was too late,” Pique said.

“That day all the games, they were very long.

“But we will have to be more creative in the future. I think this is not a big issue. It’s something we have to think how we do it.”

Britain’s Jamie Murray has suggested the finals should be split across two venues in Madrid next year, enabling one court to host one tie every day rather than two sessions.

When asked if the Spanish capital’s WiZink Center could be used next year, or where a fourth court could be built at the Caja Mágica, Pique said both options “are right now are on the table”.

Too focused on TV fans and not those there?

Between 800 and 1,000 British fans roared their team on in each of their four matches, with some staying for the whole week in the hope of seeing the 2015 champions end victorious again.

The majority of supporters appeared to savour the sense of occasion that mixing with fans from all over the world brought, although a large portion still bemoaned the loss of the previous home-and-away format.

“It is a fantastic atmosphere, we’ve talked to people from loads of different countries,” said Pam Flatman, who flew over from Norfolk with husband Wayne and their friend Mac Boreham. “It brings people together and from that perspective it’s a good thing.”

One common gripe among fans of all nationalities was they felt the tournament was more geared towards the needs of armchair fans than those actually in Madrid.

“There are no screens dotted around, so there is no information from the other matches,” said Mac. “At Wimbledon you know what’s happening but here you know nothing.”

Pam added: “Scoreboards and TVs outside in the concourses are necessary – and more outside heaters because the Madrid winter can be very chilly. It’s been freezing standing out here.”

The tournament also ended with a tinge of disappointment for fans at the venue. Spain lifted the trophy with many supporters having already left the arena, unwilling to sit through an unnecessarily elaborate and time-consuming setting up of the presentation stage.

Those trying keeping up-to-date with the action from afar reported a series of issues.

Technological glitches surfaced on the official Davis Cup finals information channels – including website, mobile app and stadium televisions – which ranged from comical errors to more serious issues of fan engagement.

While British number one Dan Evans’ profile featuring a faceless image instead of a photograph like everyone else was not the end of the world, nor was Germany’s team page describing Zverev – absent and a harsh vocal critic – as the ‘star of the their team’, the fundamental ability to update scores and competing players correctly was a failure.

Often, the scores of matches were wrong and slow to update, while Britain were apparently represented by Argentine Guido Pella in their quarter-final against Germany.

Selling television rights proved to be a problem in some major markets, with the tournament not shown on a major American broadcaster and only being available to British television audience at a late stage when Eurosport stepped in to secure the rights.

Another peculiarity was the decision to set up new Twitter and Instagram accounts under the ‘Davis Cup finals’ banner rather than use the existing Davis Cup accounts which have a combined 500,000 followers.

Although the behind-the-scenes content was excellent – fun, interactive and engaging – and retweeted by the main Davis Cup accounts in a bid to build the brand, the new accounts only had a combined 60,000 followers which leads a suspicion that reach was not as wide as it could have been.

“Our vision is to make sure this is seen in as many places by as many people and followed around the world. That’s something that, again, is something we can improve,” Pique added.

#change #needs

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upshotre · 5 years ago

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Tens of thousands turn out for school climate strikes in Australia

School pupils went on strike in their tens of thousands across Australia on Friday to protest against lack of action by leaders on climate change, in what is thought to have been the youth movement’s biggest rally in the country yet. Sydney police said 50,000 took part in the demonstration in Sydney’s Domain Park. However, the Domain and surrounding parks can hold 100,000 and the area was packed as students, parents, concerned adults, unionists and office workers joined the climate change rally. Many students defied their school principals to leave school in their uniform to attend the rally, some with parents but many in groups. Freya Croft, 16, from Stella Maris College in Sydney’s beach suburb of Manly, told dpa there was no point obeying the school when the world was falling apart. “Our Earth is being destroyed and they say stay in school, get good marks, but what is the point of that if our future is being ruined,” she said. Sara Angelini, 15, from Ryde Secondary College, came with her twin sister Sofia to hold up a sign declaring “There is no Planet B.” “The water is rising, temperatures are rising, droughts are longer and harder, we need to act now before it is too late,” she said. Jessica Guerrera, 16, said her school, Santa Sabina College, encouraged students to join the strike with their parents’ permission. “The school will hold its own rally in the playground for those who couldn’t come to the city rally today. They are right behind it as it is our future.” Vanessa Dawson came with her 12-year-old daughter Milly, carrying a sign saying “Sorry I can’t go to school, I have to save the planet.” One youngster inside a dinosaur costume held a sign reading “We thought we had time too!” More than 2,500 businesses across Australia registered their support with the strike website. Many told employees they could stop work and join the rally and adults seemed to outnumber students at the Sydney event. The official website of the Australian climate strike demanded no new coal or gas projects and 100 per cent renewable energy by 2030. Rallies in other Australian cities reported large crowds. In Hobart, 22,000 turned out and even in Alice Springs, in the remote centre of the continent, 500 students rallied in the town centre, according to estimates carried by the national broadcaster ABC. Australian Education Minister Dan Tehan condemned the strike, declaring in Canberra that “politics should be kept out of the classroom,” ABC reported. Tehan linked the global strike movement with flagging school test results around the country, the report said. Read the full article

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tomemyxmen2017-blog · 7 years ago

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REVIEW: Black Panther & the Crew: We Are the Streets

Publisher: Marvel Entertainment, LLC

Publication Dates: April 12, 2017 to August 30, 2017

Creators

Ta-Nehisi Coates (writer, 1-6); Yona Harvey (writer, 2, 4, 6); Butch Guice (penciler, 1-6); VC’s Joe Sabino (letter, 1-6); Mack Chater (penciler, 2-3, 5-6, and inker, 2-3, 5-6); Scott Hanna (inker, 1-6); Stephen Thompson (penciler, 5, and inker, 5); Dan Brown (colorist, 1-6); Paul Mounts (colorist, 5).

Summary

Harlem is both in rage and in mourning over the death of Ezra Keith, and elderly black man and prominent activist who died in police custody after he was arrested for protesting gentrification and some new condos. Ezra is said to have died alone in his cell, and he was the fourth person to die in police custody that summer. The morning after Ezra’s memorial service, his niece and nephew meet with their long-time friend Storm (incognito as “Blue”) at Londell’s, Ezra’s daily breakfast spot. Storm invites Misty Knight as well, because Ororo suspects something more sinister surrounds Ezra’s death. Misty reluctantly agrees to investigate, and she quickly sees something is off after she receives a tip from a prison guard: the name of Eddie Figures from Little Mogadishu.

As tensions in Harlem continue to rise, the mayor hires Americorps, a private security firm with a fleet of robots to enforce a curfew in the neighborhood. Misty and Storm team-up, and while sitting in a park, they are attacked by dozens of the robots, which Storm easily defeats. The pair search for Eddie, but they are interrupted by an attack when a bomb is detonated on their subway train. The pair split up: Storm heads back to Londell’s on a hunch that there’s more there than she realized. She’s right, and Marla, the shop’s owner, leads her into a subbasement to discover a makeshift war room set up by the Black Panther.

Storm and T’Challa head undercover to explore the condos that Ezra was arrested protesting. They find lots of red flags: an unregistered realtor, the property owned by the same company that owns the Americorps robots, a hidden elevator in the schematics, and a hidden symbol in the building’s blueprints: the seal of Hydra! Meanwhile, Misty Knight seeks the help of Luke Cage to aid her investigation, and she arrives at his home just in time to watch it explode (he’s fine, of course). They find Eddie Figures and interrogate Americorps big-wig Paul Keane. Misty confronts Keane on the attack on her and Storm in the park, the subway explosion, and the attack on Cage’s home, which Keane dismisses as a lack of resources and not enough robots on patrol.

Afterward, Misty and Luke bring Eddie to meet Ororo and T’Challa and to compare notes. The group is briefly detoured rescuing Manifold, who was attacked by the Americorps robots for violating Harlem’s curfew. The Crew, fully assembled at Londell’s, crack the secret: Hydra is using Americorps technology to manipulate the seething anger of the black community in Harlem. But while they deliberate, Eddie spies on TV the person he saw murder Ezra: Ezra’s own nephew! The following day at a massive rally, Ezra’s nephew riles up the crowd, but thanks to the Hydra technology in use, the protestors quickly devolve into a mob. The Crew tries to control the situation, while Misty confronts Ezra’s nephew. She chases him to a rooftop, where he declares “Hail Hydra!” before jumping to his death.

Review

In a year oversaturated with hype, crossovers, resurrections, and deep event fatigue, Marvel’s only comic featuring an all-black team of heroes went almost entirely unnoticed until it was unceremoniously cancelled after its second issue. And that’s utterly tragic. This series is a master work in exceptional comic story-telling that is ripe with social relevance without any preachy agenda-pushing at the expense of fan investment or continuity (see Iceman). It’s a story about genuine heroes who are connected to the plight of real people and want to help. It’s a murder mystery serial that’s intriguing, engaging, and stacked with a tremendous cast. Now what could be more traditionally Marvel than that?

To craft such a fantastic story, Coates utilizes lots of narrative devices here that are well-suited to the series. Each issue has its own distinct narrator; the six issues are narrated, in order, by Misty Knight, Storm, Black Panther, Luke Cage, Manifold, and Ezra. Each issue also begins with a five-to-seven page flashback detailing Ezra’s early life in Harlem, fighting for civil rights, protecting the innocent, and strategizing a secure future for the disenfranchised. There’s also a well-done and effective retcon included in this series: apparently, Storm led a double-life in the late ‘80s. When she wasn’t busting up Reavers in the Australian Outback with the X-Men, she was living a relatively normal life in Harlem with Ezra and his family, having Gateway teleport her back and forth. Ezra gave Storm her nickname “Blue” for her skin, and she knew him as a friend of her father’s. The choice is interesting. Retcons have such a malevolent way of diminishing our cherished stories, but here’s a perfect example of a circumstance where a retcon enhances a character, causes no harm to the plots as we know them, and gives us a new perspective on things we think we know.

All of the characters are depicted precisely as they should be, with Misty and Storm seemingly getting the lion’s share of the dialogue throughout. Misty’s portrayal as a suspicious, detailed, and inherently logical investigator is true to character, as is Storm’s regality, fearlessness, and desire to help Ezra’s family obtain closure. Writing characters with such extraordinarily long and often disparate continuities is no easy task, but Coates nails it in every panel.

The art team here is equally exceptional. Characters are represented with careful nuance to capture all that is said and unsaid, enhancing the story and communicating much that isn’t written; Misty’s continuous “over it” face is absolutely engrossing. Special effects (for Manifold, the explosions, or the rain on individuals’ faces) are perfect at every turn. There’s also a tremendous sense of atmosphere that fills each page, whether exploring a flashback to an Indonesian conference in 1955, a thunderstorm used to disperse a crowd, a hideout in Little Mogadishu, or a Harlem morning showing the calms before storms.

It’s a genuine indignity that Black Panther & the Crew didn’t continue, especially given the seemingly infinite crater of poor options that remain on the shelves in its place. But what remains is a wholly excellent series that demonstrates the very finest in comic book craftsmanship.

Best Line

Best Panel

Highlights

Socially relevant stories in comics done right!

Page-turner! Especially in trade and with no delay issue-to-issue!

Narrative devices! (Each character narrates an issue, relevant flashbacks, and a decent retcon!)

Storm and Misty Knight! (Make that a Marvel Two-in-One, dammit!)

Marla! ‘Nuff Said!

Lowlights

Was a little tough to follow on a monthly basis, but works well in trade

Series ended way too soon, and there’s so much rich story to tell here

Recommended?

Enthusiastic Yes. From the stellar cast and expert story-telling, to retcons that actually work for a change, to the metaphor for current events, it’s hard to find any flaw for this series. Even if you’re not a fan of any of these characters, you can’t deny good comic books when you see them.

#blackpanther marvel comics storm xmen lukecage mistyknight

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