#cue the dramatic music that swells as the two leads make eye contact for the first time........

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

You always remember the day you met your future conqueror of the seas <3

Aka I made a comic abt sea monster backstory, now, perhaps,, one abt how they met pirate-Eclipse? Maybe idk my brain is soup

[stardusttrashed]

Football Coach Part 17

Previous Part   

Word Count: 2257

Calum gleefully belched the lyrics of Wannabe by the Spice Girls alongside Luke. His genuine smile accompanied by his occasional lisp caused your heart to swell, your love for him growing with each passing minute.

You leaped out of your seat and started towards them as Calum and Luke emerged from the crowd beaming. “You two were amazing!” You wrapped your arms around them the best you could while you stood on your toes, pulling them in for a group hug. Calum wrapped his arm around your waist to help steady you, his hand firmly pressing against the small of your waist.

You could make out the faint tint of red making its way across his cheeks. “I don’t know about all that,” Calum chuckled, his voice drowned out by the next group singing on stage.

You pulled away and looked at him with a childish pout, “You were. You both were,” you insisted.

“Whatever you say, love.” Despite his playful tone, you could sense there was something else he was covering for- possibly annoyance. You searched his face worriedly, trying to gauge what exactly he was hiding before Luke pulled your attention away.

“Thanks, Y/n,” Luke smiled before making his way back to the booth.

You had turned to follow behind him when you felt Calum’s calloused fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you back towards him. “Let’s ditch them, I’ll come up with an excuse later.” He pecked your lips, taking away your next words. “Please,” he whispered against your lips. “I don’t care if I sound needy right now, I want you, love. I’d be fine even if we just sit in the car for a couple of minutes,” he rambled nervously as whatever he was hiding earlier slowly bubbled up to the surface.

You held back a giggle, breathing in the way the alcohol seemed to mix almost perfectly with his cologne. “We can always hang out with them some other time.” You bit your lips as you cupped his jaw, watching the approving smile spread across his face. “We’re not driving though.”

Calum chuckled and pulled you flush against his body, “Of course not. Besides, the place I want to take you is walking distance from here.”

You raised an eyebrow and pulled away just enough to look at him completely, “who said you’re picking again?”

He laced his fingers with yours and smiled cheekily at you. “Wishful thinking? Plus I thought I could buy you ice cream.”

You rubbed your tongue across your top row of teeth as you playfully glared at him. “Do you really think you can use the same tricks you use on Dart as you do on me? ‘Cause you can, and that may just be the alcohol talking.” You stood on your toes as you pressed another quick kiss onto his smiling lips. “Now come on before I make you buy me more sprinkles.”

“Trust me, love, I’ll buy all the sprinkles you want.”

The warm bits of sunlight kissed your face, reminding you the day was far from over despite how dark the building was. The sky was a brilliant swirl of blues, pinks, and orange, providing a glow over everything it touched. You pulled your phone out and held it in front of you, “babe come take a picture with me.” You looked over at him with a small begging pout, watching his signature cheeky smile return to his face. He stalked behind you before wrapping his muscular arms around your figure. You gave your best picture perfect smile and took the picture only for Calum to move and mess it up. Every time you’d attempt to take the picture Calum would move and mess it up. His laughter rang in your ears as you huffed in defeat, “fine be an asshole.” You forced your way out of his arms and stormed off, ignoring the sound of him running behind you.

“Come ‘ere love,” he chuckled as his arms engulfed you once again, pulling you flush against his body. Before you could protest he was already snapping pictures of the both of you. “Damn look at my beautiful baby,” he gushed, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp gently, “you’re still an asshole.”

“Another scoop of ice cream?” He nipped your neck gently.

“And a piggyback ride all the way there, then we’ll see how much of an ass you are.”

You whined quietly at the loss of contact as you watched him walk in front of you, lowering himself. “As my lady wishes.” You hopped on his back carefully, wrapping your arms and legs around him. As promised Calum carried you the whole way there, only putting you down to hand you your ice cream.

“Is it good,” Calum teased you after the third moan escaped your lips while eating your ice cream. A small blush crept over your checks as you took another bite. “Don’t stop on my account love, I was just curious,” he continued to tease you.

You wiped the last bit of your ice cream against his lips, “you tell me, Hood.” You leaned back in your chair with a smirk as he slowly licked his lips clean.

“Mm I don’t know love, I think I need another taste,” he boasted as he leaned over the table for a kiss.

You stifled a laugh and stood up from your seat, “and that’s my cue to leave.” You skipped out of the building into the cool night air and turned around to see Calum following behind, shaking his head with a soft smile on his face. “I’ll give you a kiss if you sing for me.”

“Only if you start it.” You stayed quiet, leading the way as you wandered off. Calum opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of how to break the silence.

You climbed onto the stones surrounding the fountain and faces Calum, pointing at him dramatically. “Honey, honey, how you thrill me, aha, honey, honey,” you sang to the already embarrassed Calum, his drunken rosy cheek turning a deeper shade. “Honey, honey, how you thrill me, aha, honey, honey.” You paused waiting for him to jump in only to have him shake his head at you. “I’d heard about..” you tried to help him in a hushed tone.

“Y/n get down before you fall in,” Calum laughed. He gently took your hand in his for guidance while his other hand pulled out his phone.

“Come on Hood you should know better than to try to make me embarrassed by taking pictures, I’m a mom. I practically embarrass people I love for a living.”

“Who says it’s pictures?”

You gasped and glared at him momentarily. “Are you at least getting my good side?” You watched his phone tremble in his hand as he let out a soft chuckle.

“Every part of you is gorgeous, so yes. Now carry on.”

You bit your lip and smirked playfully, “I forgot where I was, do you remember?”

“Yeah, you were right at ‘I’d heard about you before,” he stopped once he saw your shit eating grin. “No, no. That did not count! I’m not,” he trailed off and let out a sigh. “Can we at least change the song?”

“Only if you stop recording first, Hood.”

Calum tapped away on his phone for a few minutes before tucking it away in his pocket, old R&B softly filling the air, “I have a better idea.” He stepped onto the bricks around the fountain, pulling you close once he was sure he wouldn’t slip- a bashful smile never once leaving his face. “Dance with me?”

You kissed his hand as you carefully stepped closer with a giggle, “thought you’d never ask.” You laid your head on his shoulder as the two of you swayed and took minuscule steps to the beat, the cool leather of his jacket almost instantly meshing together with the body heat provided by the both of you. Almost like a marshmallow melting in a cup of hot chocolate. The smell of alcohol and hints of cigarette smoke were woven together with an overwhelming smell that you now recognized as Calum’s filled your senses- intoxicating whatever parts of you that were sober. Being in his arms made you feel dizzy, lighter than you’ve felt in years. Every time he held you or even looked at you with an unspeakable warmth you felt as if time stopped. But it didn’t, and you’re always left wishing it’d at least slow down just enough so you could take in the details and engrain them into your memory.

“You’d make a great Hood,” Calum whispered against your hair as the music faded out, breaking your train of thought.

You scoffed in a faux offended manner, “am I not great with the last name I currently own?”

“Of course you are. You’re more than great beautiful. I, I just think Hood fits you.”

You stopped swaying and took a quick step back. A gasp escaped your lips as your foot slipped sending you flying back towards the splashing water. Calum’s hand quickly slipped around your waist, pulling you back to the safety of his arms. “Is, I, um. Is that your way of asking me to marry you?”

Calum softened in a way you’d never seen before. You could almost feel how vulnerable he was in that moment, feel it radiating off of him. His eyes shined with tears that were still determining if there was even a need for. “And if it were? What- Would you?” He took a deep breath and refocused, “What would you say?”

You shifted nervously from one foot to another, shortly breaking eye contact. “You’re drunk Cal, I’m drunk. I doubt you mean it,” you hiccuped.

Calum gently rubbed his thumb against your knuckles, “drunk or not, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Even before we were dating I spent all day looking forward to those few moments I hoped to get with you. To see you smile or make you laugh. To see you with D’artagnan. I love you Y/n. I love you so much those three words don’t seem to do justice and I-.” He stopped mid-thought once he noticed your glossy eyes and the tears that fell from them.

“Yes,” you blurted, your voice slightly strained. You searched Calum’s confused eyes before repeating your answer, “I’d love to be a Hood.”

Calum melted in front of you, quickly burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pulled you closer. “I love you,” he muttered as he placed what felt like thousands of small kisses along your neck and shoulders, “I love you more than anything.”

You lifted his head so you could look into his eyes, “I love you too.” You pressed your lips against his softly, breaking the kiss just as quickly as had started it. He hungrily pulled you back into the kiss as his hand tightened against your hip. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, asking for permission which you granted without hesitation. You could taste the sweet tang of beer against his lips as the kiss grew more needy - hungrier. You pulled away at the sound of footsteps nearby.

He chuckled quietly as he rested his forehead against yours, “what happened to you don’t get embarrassed?”  You simply rolled your eyes and shoved him lightly, unsure whether you were speechless because of the kiss or because you were in fact embarrassed at the moment. Calum let a low chuckle before kissing your forehead. He stepped down from the fountain, lifting you up by your hips as he helped you down as well. “Y’know, I don’t even have the ring yet,” he looked in his pockets frantically, as if searching would make one magically appear. He smiled proudly as he pulled out the leftover of a ring pop from his front pocket. “I know it’s not much, and I promise I’ll get you a real ring,” you couldn’t help but giggle childishly as he slipped the plastic ring onto your finger.

“It’s perfect Cal,” you beamed up at him. You looked down at it and mumbled just loud enough so he could hear, “would’ve been better if someone didn’t eat all the candy off of it, but…. Wait. Were you really walking around this whole time with a ring pop in your pocket? When’d you buy it? More importantly, when’d you eat it?”

“While you were busy making out with your ice cream.”

“Is that a hint of jealousy Mr.Hood?” You laced your fingers with his, not waiting for a reply before you continued, “Cause I’m yours. Entirely, well mostly- you still gotta share me with D’artagnan.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip to refrain from smirking as a thought crossed his mind. “But how about we make a deal, I beat you in a game of soccer and you have to mine for tonight.” He lifted your hand up to his lips while maintaining eye contact, gently kissing your knuckles, “just mine.”

You smiled cheekily at his proposition, “and if I win?”

“Not likely, but I’ll do whatever you want.”

“You do that anyway,” you joked earning a quiet giggle from him. “Are you sure you want to do this? Now that we’re engaged, I can’t promise I’ll take it easy on you.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Part 18

[fics-for-my-heart]

Art and Drama

Summary: Everyone can see it but the two of you.

Word count: 4512

Warning: Swearing, awful writing

A/N: This kinda sicks. Half way through I had some awful writers block but I still wanted to post it. This was for the Teacher prompt/idea thing I posted (here). Hope your guys enjoy.

Masterlist

 “Class, don’t forget that we have the field trip to Road Art tomorrow. Please remember to bring a lunch. I’ll send reminder messages tonight. Does anyone have any questions?” You scanned the faces of the class in front of you waiting for a hand. “Alright. Well, work on your projects till class is over. We will meet out front at first bell tomorrow.”

  All the Arts and Humanities teachers had decided on a field trip to a traveling art exhibit that was stopping at the local University. There would be different art pieces, instruments, and even plays. It tackled all the subjects of the arts so it was perfect.

 Before you could walk away a hand went up, it was Ginger, one of the sophomores in your class . “Ms. Y/L/N. I have a question, but it’s not about the field trip.”

 “What’s up?” You asked, walking over and sitting beside her while everyone else started on their projects.

 She looked at Niki, another sophomore in the class before looking at you and giggling. “Have you seen Mr. Holland?”

 “Ginge, I work with the man, of course I’ve seen him.” You rolled your eyes, you knew where this was going, all the girls loved him, mostly for the fact that he was cute and from England.

 Mr. Tom Holland was the drama teacher. Being from the same department, the two of you saw a lot of each other, plus you both joined the staff three years ago. The two of you shared a few late nights here and there setting up different events or going over test and assessments. He alway wrote the best plays, and you always helped with the set design. He was cute, but that wasn’t something you were going to share with a group of gossiping teens.

 “Is he single?” The girl snickered, her eyes wide waiting for your answer.

 “I’m not sure.” That was a lie, he had expressed many times before that he was single, but again, not something they needed to know.

 Ginger sighed. “Ya know, Ms. Y/LN, the two of you would be cute together.”

 “Alright. That’s the end of this conversation. Get to work on your projects.” You shook your head laughing at the girls. They weren’t the first ones to say that. Some of the staff were worse. Like Addy Russell, your best friend, and choir director. The first time you and Tom had stayed late together you didn’t think you would hear the end of it.

 The rest of the day was quiet. It was almost the end of the quarter so you let the kids work on their projects or other work. At the end of the day, you stood in your doorway to monitor the halls. Some students would come in and use the art class for an hour or so, or run up and ask you questions so the door was the prime spot for everything.

 “Good afternoon Ms. Y/LN.” A familiar voice spoke behind you, causing your mouth to spread into a smile against your will.

 “Good afternoon Mr. Holland.” You turned, facing the brown eyes man.

 He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and a smile matching yours on his face. “How was your day?”

 “Oh, ya know. Lots of paint, oil pastels, makers. Same old same old. How was your day?” You rested your head on the doorframe looking at him as he watched the kids laugh and chatter down the hall.

 “Dramatic.” He laughed at his joke while you rolled your eyes. “Actually, I’m working on a new play.” His eyes locked with yours, that same brightness to them he always got when he was excited about a new project. “Want to read over it? You’re the only one I trust to work on the set and backdrop.”

 Just as you smiled, a giggling group of girls walked by, Ginger in the middle very unsubtly winking at you. “I’d love too.”

 “Sick. Well, I’m going to go make you a copy of it. I’ll stick it in your mailbox.” He pushed himself off the wall, walking backwards towards his door a few down from yours. “See you tomorrow Ms. Y/LN.”

 “Have a good evening Mr. Holland.” You waved, watching the last of the kids empty out the hall before turning into your room.

--

 “Alright guys, when we get there the coordinator is going to talk to us and answer some questions, then you are free to roam around the building and visit the exhibits. Anyone seen in an area they aren’t supposed to be in will receive a write up. Am I clear?”

 “Yes Mrs. Russell.”

 “Good. Now go line up with your teachers for roll and we will be on our way.” She hopped off the bench she was on as the kids started walking around.

 After ensuring everyone from your class was present you lead them to the bus and counted them again and found a seat.

The seat beside you dipped. “Good morning Y/N.” It was Harrison, the Gym teacher and Tom’s best friend since they were in schools.

 “Good morning, Haz.” He wasn’t big on having the kids call him by his last name so they all called him Mr. H. “How are you?”

 “I’m swell. I’m glad you guys asked me to chaperone because Tom hasn't stopped talking about this and I really wanted to go.”

 As of on cue, Tom bounced onto the bus. He instantly found the two of you but narrowed his eyes at Harrison as he made his way down the aisle. “I thought we would sit together?” His question was directed at you, his bottom lip out a bit.

 Harrison draped his arm over you. “Sorry mate. I was here first.”

 “You guys suck.” He whispered before making his way to the back of the bus. Moments later both your phones buzzed.

 Tommy Boiii in Work Hoes: Haz u suk m8

 Hazzy Boiii: slow feet loose ya seat

 You: now now, are we in middle school?

 Tommy Boiii: High school actually

 You: l8r h8r

 When the buses arrived at the Universities Art Center, you and Abby lead the group to the theater where the coordinator would be speaking. Once all the kids were seated, you scanned the rows for an empty seat only to be met with Tom standing in the back row looking right at you. He nodded his head and pointed at the seat beside him.

 “I was going to yell your name if you didn’t look at me.” He laughed when you sat down.

 “Oh shut it.” He opened his mouth to speak at the same time the coordinator started and you stuck a head up. “No. Really. Shh. I want to hear what he says.”

 He introduced himself as Mel Robertson. He gave a short introduction on himself, and about each of the exhibits set up throughout the building. The painting and music exhibits held pieces from from different time periods and two different plays would be performed on the two stages with a chance for everyone to see them. After the short intro, he opened the floor up for questions.

 “How long did it take to set this up?”

 “About two years. There was a lot of rehearsals for the plays, and having to contact the right people in order to obtain permission to show the art pieces. Collecting the instruments was probably the most difficult part. But, it was well worth it because it’s been three years now and we always have amazing turn out.”

 “Are any of the art pieces originals?”

 “Sadly, no. It was too expensive insurance wise to be able to get originals. But, it was also safer to present copies because of the risks of damage while traveling. However, the copies we have are all professionally done and are almost indistinguishable from the originals.”

 The questions rolled in for a few more minutes till Mr. Robertson looked at his watch. “Well, I believe it’s time to get started. I’ll let your teacher take it from here. If any of you have any questions feel free to ask.” He waved as he and Abby traded places.

 “You guys are free to roam. All I ask is that you please be respectful and that you stay in the building. There’s a cafe in the basement if you guys want to eat, and we will make an announcement over the intercom when it's time to leave. Now, off you go, have fun.” All at once, everyone was up and making their way to the exits.

 “So.” Tom started, taking a map from one of the people by the door. “Thanks. Where to first?”

 You looked over his shoulder, pointing at the area for the paintings. “Obviously.”

——

 In all honestly, you were surprised in the best way at the variety of artists and art they had displayed. Everything from pencil sketches to textiles, from Van Gogh to Raphael. The coordinator was serious about the pieces looking authentic.

 “Wow.” The moment you walked in you were drawn to a Van Gogh piece. “This is incredible.”

 “This is Van Gogh, right?” Tom asked, stepping beside you and examining the piece.

 You pointed at the small label at the bottom. “Yeah. It’s “The garden of the asylum at Saint-Rémy”. It’s one of my favorite pieces he did.”

 “Tell me about it.”

 Your eyes scanned the colors as you spoke. “He painted it in 1889 while he was receiving treatment at the asylum. He did a lot of paintings there, all centered around the grounds of the building. The colors are my favorite part.” You point at the top of the tree. “The way he captures the different shadows from the light. This attention to the colors and the amount of detail takes my breath away.”

 “It is beautiful.” Tom was almost whispering and in the room full of chatty teens it was almost inaudible. He moved, brushing his elbow against your arm as he looked at another painting. “Woah. Can you tell me about this one?”

 You pulled your eyes away and followed his finger to another painting that was just as amazing as the first. “Oh my. That’s a Frida Kahlo piece called “The Broken Column”. She painted it in 1944 after she had surgery on her back. The white around her is said to represent the metallic corset she had to wear, and the column that’s broken is her back.” You were silent a moment, just taking in the painting. “The way you can almost feel the pain just by looking at her eyes. It's incredible how much emotion she can have someone feeling.  A lot of her art was self-portrait. Another piece she did called “The Nurse and I” depicted her as a infant being breastfed by a wet nurse. It’s a very interesting piece, I’ll have to show it to you sometime.” You glanced over at him, he was already looking at you, a smile on his face. “What?”

 He blinked, shaking his head while laughing to himself. “Nothing. I just enjoy hearing about art from you.” He extended his elbow. “Tell me more.”

 He escorted you through all the exhibit. There was a fuzzy feeling in your stomach as he asked you about different pieces, and it was clear that he really was interested in knowing about them. It was nice to be able to talk as much as you wanted about the difference between the brush strokes, or the way the colors were mixed a certain way to achieve the color.

 Tom loved hearing you talk about the art. He loved your voice if he was being honest with himself, and he loved how excited you were when you’d talk about your favorite painting or sketch. The way your eyes would light up, and how you would squeeze his arm slightly when you would get super excited about a fact. He wanted to keep you talking about art as long as he could, so he was a bit sad when you reached the last painting.

 The two of you joined Harrison and Abby lunch in the cafe, then toured around the musical instruments before heading to watch the plays. This was what Tom was excited about. He loved everything about theater.

 “It’s the way you get transported into the story of a well written play. And how you can be another person if you’re performing in one.” His eyes were bright in the shadows from the lights on stage. Excitement filling him much as it had filled you earlier.

 Watching his face change throughout the plays was almost as entertaining as the plays themselves. Much like when he was watching on of his own plays come to life, his face was a mixture of emotions. Brows knitted together or up in his hair. Lips either between his teeth or stretched into a smile. His foot tapped along to the beat of musical numbers while his fingers tapped across his leg. Watching him was like watching a one man play.

 “What?” He asked when he glanced over at you. It was much like earlier when he was watching you.

 “Nothing, I just enjoy watching you watch plays.” You shrugged, poking him with your elbow and watching a slight pink cross his cheeks.

 When the second play was over. Abby’s voice filled the building announcing it was time to go. You and Tom walked together and he had his class meet beside yours, determined to sit beside you this time. But the time the busses arrived back at the school it was time for last class so everyone went their separate ways. For you, that meant a planning period so you stopped by your mailbox and headed to your room, planning to enjoy the next hour alone.

 Your mail was mostly announcements and flyers for different school events, but there was something in a Manila envelope marked “-T”. When you opened it you remembered Tom had given you a copy of his script. Sitting back in your chair you started reading. It was the story of a struggling artist who was constantly being belittled by the people around him. But, he never stopped, even while being broke, he never stopped painting. You were instantly pulled into the story, so into it that you missed the sound of the bell for the end of the day. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat at your door that you looked up.  

 “Alright there, love?” Tom asked, his smile widening when he noticed his scripted in your hands.

 You held it up as he made his way to your desk. “Tom, this is amazing.”

 “I knew you’d like it. I’m thinking of trying to get it going soon, have it be the final play of the year.”

 “I’ve already got tons of ideas for backdrops. I’ll sketch some up this weekend and we can meet up Monday after school?” You face was bright, ideas buzzing around your mind of different ways to set the scenes.

 “I’d love that.” He tapped his knuckles on your desk before turning on his toes. “Have a lovely weekend Y/N”

 “You too, Tom!”

—-

 When you returned to school Monday, you were almost too excited. You had spent the entire weekend designing different ideas for buildings, different paintings for the main character to do, and different odds and ends to help set the mood. Tom knew you well, he had scribbled some of his own ideas and visions in the margins which is always a nice help.

 The final bell rang and you were literally bouncing around you room. You grabbed your art binder, scribbled out a quick sorry note for the door, and weaved your way through the crowd of kids to Tom’s room. He was still at his desk when you entered, shutting the door behind you. He looked up at the sound of the hall muffling, a smile taking over his face as he saw it was you, with an equally big smile.

 “Well good afternoon Y/N. How are you?” He set his pen down and watched you walk to his desk.

 “I’m fantastic. I finished the script and went right to work and I think you’ll like some of these ideas.” You handed him the binder, suddenly a bit nervous.

 He stood, making his way to the long table in the front of the room. Slowly he opened the binder and spread out the papers. He brought his hand up to play with his bottom lip as he examined them individually, eyes scanning every detail. Brows pinched in concentration. Your heart fluttered at how beautiful he was.

 “Y/N.” His voice snapped you out of your trance. “These are incredible. You always manage to get things how they were in my head.” You slowly joined him at the table, watching as he looked back at the sketches. “Seriously, these are amazing. When do you want to start working on them?” Excitement laced his voice as his bright boyish face looked at you.

 “Well, this week is finals and next week is the start of break. I don’t have any plans of you want to start then?” Seeing how excited he was brought the excitement back for you too.

 “You got yourself a date.”

 The week blew by. Grading finished projects and submitting final grades. Between class visits with Tom to talk about a tweak here or there on a design. Before you could blink, you were walking into the empty building to start prep. The only sound in the hall was your shoes squeaking as you made your way to Tom’s room only to find he was there.

 You: Where are you?

 You: I swear if you forgot about our plans.

 Just as you were about to call him music started from the auditorium. As if the school wasn’t already spooky, muffled music made it worse. Slowly, you made your way to the end of the hall, stepping quietly inside. Your breath caught. Tom was on stage, a rather tight tank and sweats on. He was dancing. Spinning and leaping to the rise and fall of the music. It was beautiful and hypnotic. When the music ended, he landed the final leap, chest heaving and forehead shiny with sweat.

 “Bravo!” You clapped, causing him to nearly fall over.

 “Shit. Oh my god you scare me.” He bent with his hands on his knees as you made your way to the stage.

 Looking up at him, you smiled. “That really was amazing.”

 His cheeks were flushed as he smiled. “Thanks. Now, get up here and let's get to work.”

 The two of you spent the day going over the script and setting up placement for people, props, and set pieces. It was the most important first step and Tom set each scene on its own paper. Every move was planned first, then as the set pieces were introduced he would make adjustments. It was fun. You represent each character, letting Tom move you where he wanted you to go. His hands were nice, but there was work to do so you pushed the thought out of your head.

 As the week went on, the two of you made your way through the script, getting a rough idea for placement. There were also lots of trips to hardware stores and local restore stores to get things to help with preparing the set. Spending so much time together was nice. Neither of you really knew just how much you liked each other.

 When school started back up Tom got to work setting up auditions while you recruited students to help with set. Most work was limited to after school, but where were a few times Tom would be so excited about an idea that he would bust into your classroom to tell you. Of course, by this time everyone knew you were helping with the play more than before. Tom was coming directly to you with ideas. The two of you sat close in the cafeteria running through things.

 Set building began, and so did play practice. By this time, you and Tom were with each other every day. Your feelings were growing and growing. Tom would wipe some paint off your face and your knees would go weak. He wasn’t much better, the paint on your face made you even cuter. You were both so blinded by nerves that you couldn’t see that you liked each other. But everyone else could tell.

 “Ms. Y/LN.” Gingers hand was in the air, fingers wiggling. “Are you and Mr. Holland dating yet?”

 “Ginger.” Your face warmed as the class giggled. “Why would you ask that?”

 “Please. He clearly likes you! My brother is in his class and apparently you’re all he talks about!”

 You shook your head. “I’m not discussing this. We aren’t dating.” You kept your face stern, ending the conversation, even though your insides had turned to mush.

 It was true though. Tom had started mentioning you a lot more in class. Especially when a new idea would pop into his head. His first words would be “I need to tell Y/N!” And out the door he would go. The class didn’t mind, they enjoyed watching everything play out. But, with you both unknowing of the other feelings, it was making things go agonizingly slow.

 “You know, you and Tom are the talk of the school.” Abby mentioned one weekend while setting up a movie. “All the kids have a ship name for you. And pretty sure I’ve heard something about a running poll on when you guys will finally kiss.”

 “Oh please.” You body warmed at the thought of kissing him, but Abby didn’t need to know that.

 Abby made a tisk sound while joining you on the couch. “Y/N. Come on, you’re telling me you can’t see it?”

 “See what?”

 “Tom likes you.”

 “Bullshit.” You laughed, taking a handful of popcorn. “You’re worse than the kids.”

 “I’m being serious. I happen to know from a very reliable source that it’s true. Also, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him. Y/N he comes to you first with ideas, and don’t think I didn’t see you guys walking arm in arm at Road Art. He was literally beaming at you the entire time.”

 “Whos this ‘reliable source’? Also, duh we are working on the play together.”

 “Who do you think told me? Who, beside you, does Tom spend most of his  time with?” She gave you her teacher look. Eyebrows raised and lips pursed.

 “Harrison? How do I know you’re being forreal?”

 She groaned. “Stop being so stubborn. Whatever. I told you what I know, what you do now is up to you.” She rolled her eyes and played the movie.

 After the talk with Abby, you started to notice the little things more. Tom sat a little closer, stayed later to help you clean up. His text were more frequent and not always about the play. Without fail he was by your door between classes and at the end of everyday. You still couldn’t bring yourself to believe that it was because he liked you. No matter how many times you imagined grabbing his face and kissing him, there was still a bit of doubt.

 Soon it was time for the first show. You were probably just as nervous as the kids.

 “Everything looks wonderful Y/N.” Tom said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You’d been double checking everything, making sure things did what they were suppose to, and that everything was in its place.  “Thanks.” You rested your head on his shoulder. You’ve been a lot of help getting this stuff done.”

 “I should be thanking you. This would have all still been in my head had you not helped. This is mostly possible because of you.” He squeezed you closer, kissing the top of your head causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy.

 All three days went off perfectly. So well in fact, there was another day added, as well as one last performance for the school. The show for the school was the best one of them all. All the kids were excited to put on a good show for their friends, and the rest of the students were excited to see finally see the play. By the end, you had tears in your eyes both from how proud you were of the kids and how sad you were that it was over.

 “Guys! I have a few things to say!” Nick, the lead roll, said while waving his arms to get everyone's attention. “Firstly, this was probably my favorite play to have done, and the group of people I was able to do it with made it even better. Secondly, as a Senior, I’m so glad that I was able to have this play be my last one of my high school career. Thirdly, can Mr. Holland and Ms. Y/LN come out please?” The two of you shared a look before joining the cast on stage. “This play wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for the two of you. You have both been such an inspiration to all of us, so we wanted to do something special for you.” Nick turned and motioned for someone backstage. Tom’s hand reached for yours and you intertwine your fingers.

 “All of your classes got together and we secretly sold goodies and other things to help raise money for next years play.” Two other seniors had joined the front of the stage, a huge check in their hands. Tom’s hand squeezed yours, a huge smile was planted across both of your faces. Excitement flowed through you both as Nick took a moment before he continued. “Together, we raised $4,391.”

 Your eyes grew wide and your mouth dropped. Tears were freely flowing down your face now. The fact that these kids cared enough about the plays absolutely warmed your heart. Tom wore a matching expression to yours. The auditorium was full of cheers, your body was so warm and fuzzy that you almost thought you were dreaming. Tom tugged on your hand, pulling you into a hug, and meeting your lips with his. What?

 Everyone cheered even louder. Whoops and hollers and shouts of finally. But for you, everything stopped. When he pulled away, his face was full of shock

 “Oh my. Oh no. I’m so sorry.” He frantically scanned your face trying to gauge your reaction. “I’ve been want omg to do that for so long. And there was just so much happening just now that I kinda lost myself. Oh man. I hope I di-” You put your finger over his mouth to silence him.

 All the kids on the stage had circled around you, laughing and full of excitement that the two of you finally made a move.

 “Just shut up and kiss me, Mr. Holland.”

[kyukurator-blog]

ARISTOTLE ON MARS

THAT FEELS BETTER

 When Aristotle talked about catharsis (the purging of fear and pity through drama) he MAY have been thinking more about killing your father and sleeping with your mother than invasive alien life forms.   

But in times like these we here at The Thread will take catharsis wherever we find it. So last week we finally watched Clint Eastwood’s Scully, and when the ferry crew started pulling the 155 passengers off the plane wing our eyes got all moist right on cue. 

 By the end of the movie an evil NTSB panel is forced to admit that sometimes heroes actually are heroes.  And we were forced to admit that every once in a while things actually do turn out well.  Aristotelian or not, it did perk us up.

But Scully isn’t exactly representative.  Far more common in films are films where small human errors add up to disaster.  Like  the Oscars — or the latest Alien knock-off that opens this week. 

  iTUNES USER ALERT! Just want to make sure you know you don’t have to pay $14.99 at iTunes for a movie you’re only going to watch once. Every other service will let you rent most titles for $10 less than iTunes. Amazing, right?  Even if you love Apple, don’t let them scam you.

     LIFE (2017)

 At the outer limits of human endeavor, the margin for error becomes increasingly slim.  So when an alien life form pops up in a movie — and it doesn’t have Star Wars in the title — we know there’s a good shot that before long something unanticipated is going to pop up.

Except that by now, the unanticipated is exactly what we anticipate, like:  Really?  You’re gonna stick your finger in there?

In Scully, the pilot’s experience and human ability to judge a complex situation more rapidly than any computer saves the day.  The lesson here is a flip of that — as the crew   members struggle to contain a ruthlessly aggressive Martian life form, their humanity keeps getting in the way.

The early reviews are decent, even though everybody agrees that it falls apart in the last act.  Reportedly whole multicultural crew are provided with  back stories  – not just Jake Gyllenhal and Ryan Reynolds.

Genre purists should be saving themselves for Alien: Covenant, Ridley Scott’s return to the Alien franchise.  It opens in May, with a fun and even more multicultural cast.  But in all likelihood, they’ll come out anyway, just to jeer at not-so-cheap knockoff.

  DEEPWATER HORIZON (2016)

 Like Scully, we pretty much knew exactly what this movie was going to be before we watched it.  And we watched it anyway – though we did save it for a weekend when we were home alone, so we could pump up the 5.1 sound to an eyeball-jiggling volume.

You know from the start that Marky Mark is going to survive to get back to Kate Hudson.  And you figure he’s probably going to save the cute Hispanic woman (Gina Rodriguez — she could save him, but that would be a big genre stretch for this movie).  And it doesn’t take advanced calculus to figure out pretty quick that John Malkovich, sporting a honey-dripping drawl, is the villain.

It’s a real Dad flick – more technical jargon than cleavage.  And a nicely aging Kurt Russell in the solid-as-a-rock captain role.

Oh yeah, and (spoiler alert) there are explosions.  Biiig explosions.  Lots of explosions.  That damn oil rig blows up again and again and again; and again.  Here at The Thread, we don’t track every single superhero movie closely; but to our untrained eye there were more, bigger, better explosions than we’ve seen anywhere else recently.

There are human errors, falling in the subcategories of corporate greed and tempting fate.  But the movie accurately depicts the biggest error, which was made by the highly competent and super-experienced crew – not realizing what was happening and taking action quickly enough, as this geekoid article points out.

    LONE SURVIVOR (2013)

 Deepwater Horizon is the second of three collaborations (Patriot Day is #3) between star Mark Wahlberg and director Peter Berg.  They’ve honed in on a sort of disaster sub-genre: hyper-competent teams (overwhelmingly male) and how they deal with extreme situations when all the layers of failsafe fail.

Lone Survivor is based on non-fiction book by former Navy Seal Marcus Luttrell.  A four-man Navy Seal reconnaissance team is inserted into the Hindu Kush, with the mission of scouting the location of a Taliban leader.  In the hilly terrain, they lose radio contact with their base.  They then stumble onto an elderly shepherd accompanied by two teens.

Luttrell (Wahlberg) convinces his comrades not to kill the three, but one of the teens gallops off, and before they can re-establish communications Taliban fighters come streaming in.

From the start of the film we’ve seen the cardinal rule that these guys live by – never yield; never give up.  In the ensuing firefights and chases, the four Seals take monstrous amounts of bullets and physical abuse but keep on going.  Eventually they make contact and two Huey helicopters swoop in – only to have one of them shot down in flames and the other retreat.

Only Luttrell survives – and only because he is saved by a Pashtun villager who risks himself and his whole family because of his Islamic moral code which obliges him to shelter the stranger.

    APOLLO 13 (1995)

Lately we’ve been searching for classics to watch with our tweens (nota bene — City Slickers is much more of a raunchfest than you may remember).  Classics, in this context, being anything pre-2010.  Which is why we’ve ended up re-watching a lot of Tom Hanks movies lately.

Apollo 13 is probably the highest profile they-all-came-back-alive situation in modern history.  You do very much know how it turns out, so this kind of thing is a real test of a filmmaker’s craft, which is why Clint Eastwood or, in this case, Ron Howard gets the job.

You’ll be waiting for the biggest meme from this movie: “Houston, we’ve got a problem.”  We’ve got to admit that Hanks is really good at humanizing these super buttoned-up, understated types.  In the photo above, he’s next to another all-purpose nice guy.  No, not Kevin Bacon — the recently departed Bill Paxton.

    THE MARTIAN (2015)

When it comes to writerly eloquence, the self-published Kindle novel The Martian was horribly written – kind of high school junior level.  And just like Fifty Shades of Gray, there are lots of pages you can just scroll right through.  But if you’ve got a certain sensibility (the kind that would lead you to read a novel about an astronaut stuck on Mars), don’t start it late at night, or you’ll still be up when the birds start chirping.

Author Andy Weir is one of those overnight success stories – although he was still a computer programmer when he published The Martian as a serial on his website, he’d been writing for years.  Some followers asked him to self-publish it on Kindle.  Four years later the feature film was released, starring Matt Damon and directed by Ridley Scott.

When an epic sand storm forces a Mars mission to abort and take off early, a crew member is hit by debris and blown away.  Telemetry shows he is dead, the craft is teetering in the wind;  so to save the rest of the crew, the commander (Jessica Chastain) blasts off.

Of course, Watley isn’t dead, just skewered like a bug by a spear-like antenna.  He manages to make it inside and remove the antenna.  With all communication cut off, he faces a long slow death from starvation.

Except, of course he doesn’t.  Through tenacious will and a lot of mental meat, he figures out how to restore the radio, and then how to grow enough potatoes to survive until his crewmates can improvise an emergency return mission to pick him up.  More shit happens, but he perseveres.

For a lot of the novel, Watley is sitting alone and thinking about potatoes, so it wasn’t an easy story to dramatize.  The adroit touch with which Scott accomplished reminds us that we should go out to a theater to watch his Alien reboot.

    Titanic (1997)

And the music swells.  Dare we use the words “Celine Dion” and “catharsis” in a single sentence?

Wanted our 5th pick to be Shackleton, the miniseries in which a stalwart Kevin Branagh (even more thin-lipped than usual) endures more wind-whipped ice and penguin meat than any man should have to; and miraculously brings them all back alive, minus a few random fingers and toes.  But we realized that it’s not available for streaming.  If you have Netflix DVD or a good library nearby, check it out.

So.  We recently re-watched Titanic at home, and the boys were transfixed, despite the love story pasted onto the epic deflation of human hubris.  Even viewed from the couch, it’s a grand, imagination-stirring film, with mind-boggling effects and a life-was-simple-then moral compass.

This movie cemented our love affair with Kate Winslet, which had begun with Heavenly Creatures.  And, we’ve gotta say, we like Leonardo better now than we did at the time.

Those last scenes must have been good training for The Revenant.  Although we must add this unfortunate Weir-esque fact – there was actually room for both of them on that door.  Don’t believe it?  Well, Mythbusters re-enacted it and proved that he didn’t have to die.

  ARISTOTLE ON MARS was originally published on FollowTheThread