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husbandohunter · 4 years ago

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What they love about you (part 2)[Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: It was as if the universe had changed when they saw you.

Characters: Zhongli, Childe, Albedo, Kazuha. Part 1 here

Genre: fluff

"Poetry for my hopeless romantic heart 🥺 and Kazuha, he was the perfect candidate for this. I decided to put Zhongli first of course, he deserves it after saving my ass in Baal's fight."

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Spirit flows through the Immovable rock (Zhongli)

Nations fall, truths be told, iron rusts and earth erode

Through six centuries these were stories he watched unfold.

He sees you and the archon knew that you shall too grow old

But despite it all, he loves you for your existence, as nothing can compare to your intransient soul.

The purpose of contracts were made to ensure there had been a fair trade between two parties. Like merchants striking business deals for a favourable outcome, like mother nature maintaing the balance between life and death, like how you and your beloved said your vows and whispered promises to one another as evening bids farewell by the warm welcome of the moon's gentle glow. Those days were the most treasured that you couldn't help remisicing them-- when Zhongli appeared in your life. Your mortal life. How time can fly so fast.

Perhaps this had been a common notion among human standards. That to be connected, both sides must share the same factors in order to proceed the contract. Clearly your placement proved to be mismatched. Unlike Zhongli there could be a day when your legs gave up and you can no longer walk. He will go on without you, continuing to drift in places where you cannot reach, where time was out of the question, further and further away until the mist begins to seize your field of vision and soon your eyes were too old to see.

The difference in age can truly make someone feel alone and Zhongli knew it well. Thus he smiled softly like he always does and held you close, speaking with so much kindness:

My dearest.

Your soul existed like an evergreen tree blooming through all four seasons, unwithered and everlasting, even against the cold storm of white. And it could be as soft as the sunbeam cascading through the mountain peaks while they dust the land with their ethereal hues and emitting the warmth that breaths absolute serenity. If artifacts were a piece of what someone left behind then maybe everything you made was considered an artifact-- a treasure. A piece of you in those handwritten letters, the beauty in your fingertips after knitting him a scarf which caused scars to mar them, and because of how heavy your spirit weighs through everything you did, it became evident that the one he had fallen for was not your skin nor your body but the person who resides in it.

And sometimes he wonders if he had met you once upon a dream. What else could explain the mysterious feeling that made you seem so familiar, even when he only saw you for the first time? Or perhaps you were an old friend from the long long past, someone he stargazed with upon the infinite mounds of grass and glaze lilies, someone whom he shared the taste of osmanthus wine, someone he came to cherished just like how he cherished his own nation. Regardless, whether you were that someone or not, he wouldn't hesitate to relive those times all over again.

If there was a day when the world around you decided to cave in, where time inevitably caught up and you succumbed to change, he would still be yours. After all, the immovable stone was meant to be the symbol of constancy. He already sworn to you that his devotion and affection will never waver, they were solely held towards your essence for you had touched him through the things he could not touch, and left a mark that would last longer than his ancient self can last. Zhongli may have lived through many lifetimes but meeting you was the beginning of everything. You were a mortal immortalized in the world his heart, etched so deep that it stirs him apart, there was no room for anyone else.

~xx~

Drowning in the ocean flames (Tartaglia)

There was a man who fell deeply in love with war

They raged inside of him like the spontaneous battlefields he came to adore.

Consumed by desire, pain became an addiciton

And he eventually surrenders to the heat of your passion.

While many fear death, Childe learned to dance with it.

He revels in the way his heart pounds endlessly, as if new life had been born from the inside and then bursted like thunder, sending trembling sensations through his veins, bringing him to the peak of euphoria. The feeling was a drug in which Childe hesitates no more when he confronts it, rather he deliberately seeks it. He seeks thrill in the most dangerous situations since they were the moments that made him feel so alive.

Henceforth the Harbinger sought you out. He inches closer and ever so close, those deep cerulean eyes trapped in your hypnotizing ones. Childe loves how you look at him like you were about to devour him, consume him as the flames in hell would, perhaps destroy him completely to the point there was no turning back and yet...he would not mind.

Childe had been so drawn to you like a moth to a light. No. Rather, Adam and the devil, tempting him to sin because the things he would do for you were undeniably impetuous. It was too late. It was too late when you told him you wanted to stay. Too late when you pulled him down, with arms around his neck, stealing away his breath in one swift manner as well as a kiss. Curse you for having so much power over him, from then and there he was no longer the mighty harbinger everyone knew but a man foolish in love. Take him higher. Higher. Take him far. To say you were alluring would be an understatement. The scent of you brings all his senses to disarray and the taste of you-- by the archons-- had never made him feel so starved. All he thought of was mindlessly running his hands over your small back, reveling in the shape of you, exploring every inch and curve in attempt to make you completely his.

This was the reason why he grew accustomed to dancing with death. Because it was you. You were going to be the cause of his downfall and you were the cause of this insanity. Even though you constantly reminded him how risky the situation was due to being a wanted criminal in his homeland's eyes, Childe pays no mind. Didn't he already tell you to trust him? Anyone who threatens you would be an enemy of his, much to their misfortune. Whether it'd be conquering the world and laying it beneath your feet or walking through the depths of the abyss all over again, he'll make sure to have it all and no one can say otherwise.

~xx~

Shelter (Albedo)

Your warmth was his hearth

Like stars falling onto the earth

Gracing the plains in an empereal bliss

As they trembled under the touch of heaven's kiss

Closing his eyes, you are the first person he sees.

The sound of snow chasing the wind fills the silent night once again while it's whispered blows continued to echo just by the cave's entrance. Albedo had planned to take you back to Monstadt that day but Dragonspine was not the place to be merciful with the weather. No one else except the two of you occupied the abandoned space and a singular camp fire to serve as a source of warmth. You place your hand on your lover's forehead, brushing away his ash coloured strands while he seeps into slumber. Albedo sighs contentedly. Despite the world being engulfed in sheer cold, here he felt safe and sound.

Before meeting you Albedo never really had that. People regularly held him on a high regard and had a hard time matching his pace. He was a born genius to the point that he practically stood out like a swan out of the ducklings' crowd as they admired his brilliance. Truly Albedo was a perfect human being. But when turns around to see the rest he noticed how distant everything seemed. He was so focused on his pursuit towards the universal truth that he hadn't given the time to consider; where is he going with this? And what for? Everyone else looked so happy living in their mundane routines and Albedo soon grew curious about such thoughts. Out of all the places in Monstadt, exactly where does he belong?

Opening his eyes, you are the first person he looks for.

"Welcome home, Albedo!"

The answer was obvious. Home was the sound of his name on your lips. When you were side by side with him while he sketched the landscape from the far distance. In places where the lights were on as he entered the room, knowing you were inside. This feeling couldn't be describe with just a word. Home was not a nation nor was it a destination. Home was in your touch where he felt the most protected.

I'm home.

A sky filled with stars and he only saw one; his Starlight. Your warmth held the emotion similar to the kind where there had only been one cande lit amidst an infinite stretch of darkness. But it also brought the joy of flowers blossoming into the vivid future of new spring. There was no place he'd rather be than the shelter of your arms because with you, Albedo believed he truly found where he belonged.

~xx~

Pirr against the Scarlet Leaves (Kazuha)

Silencing the world

My heart begins to find peace

Soothed by your presence

- For my beloved, (Y/n)

I remember how the first petal of spring drifted by as it had flown into the crossroads of our path. Subconciously my entire being began to still. This particular flower... it must have come far and wide for the wind to carry such a pleasant scent. Although I had intended to continue my venture onwards but the air ceased to sound and I knew that this way was true. And so nature beckons me to the shore where the waves lulled back and forth under the moonlight's entrance, only then I began to sharpen my vision to see what was before me. You stood there on a rock with your face looking into the sparkling sky, singing a tune that drew me near. Just the mere sight was enough to stir my heart alone.

My beloved, do you know why I named this poem 'Pirr against the Scarlet Leaves?'

Watching you was like witnessing the ephmereal birth of a flower sprouting amongst the slums of an abandoned nation. A fleeting miracle where snow falls from the summer sky. I am compelled to capture these feelings in this poem yet there are moments where my thoughts scatter as if the autumn wind had whisked them away and out of my grasp until a singular leaf is only what was left. Perhaps it wouldn't be necessary for me to keep a notebook of ways I can describe your presence, instead a few simple sentences would suffice. Nevertheless, I only wish to express my feelings for you.

When you're with me it seems I have nothing to think about. The aura around you can silence the world alone, speaking louder than thunder cries, weighing heavily to those around you in ways it would feel empty if you're not here. Yet I could breath as if alleviated from the burdens of my past. This had me realize that this must have been the will of the wind. You were the greatest gift to have ever bestowed upon me and I confess, sometimes my chest aches because of how much I cherish you, it pierces me like a sharp blade but even if my heart bleeds it will continue to bleed only for your sake.

So wherever you are, wherever you may be, I can feel you in the breeze. Return soon my beloved, I'll be here, waiting.

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kirisaki-daichi-scenarios · 4 years ago

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kiridai, haizaki + akashi seijuro II

part one here

For a moment, Akashi wonders whether he’s hallucinating.

Of course, he’s in perfect condition - both physical and mental - and this mirage can’t be one inspired by desire either. If that were the case, if it were some bizarre manifestation of his missing Teikō, he’d be imagining Kuroko or Midorima instead. Maybe even Aomine, though that’s a stretch.

He certainly wouldn’t have conjured up the Haizaki Shougo by choice.

“Oi, Akashi, long time no see!”

His fellow first year is leaning against the lockers, just a few strides ahead of Akashi, adorning a black hoodie over the issued white Kirisaki Daiichi shirt, first few holes unbuttoned and tie undone.

“Haizaki.”

Why Haizaki’s attending a school for the very rich, for those with power and success foretold in their futures, when he’s neither of those categories, Akashi doesn’t know. It’s hard to come up with a good guess either. All Akashi can think of right now is that, of all people he’s ever met in his life, Haizaki’s the last he would have ever liked to meet again (let alone go to the same school with, for the second time in a row), and that he’ll be late to his next class, if he dignifies Haizaki with a response longer than one word.

Unfortunately, it seems Haizaki has other plans.

“A little bird told me,” grins Haizaki, stepping in front of Akashi, and side-stepping when Akashi does. His face is inches away from the redhead’s face, as his tongue darts out over his thumb, “that you’ve not been able to join the basketball team here. Guess they were looking for a skilled team player, and you couldn’t fill the requirements, huh?”

“Enough, Shougo. I don’t have the time to entertain you.”

Akashi pushes against Haizaki’s shoulder, trying to get past. Haizaki pushes back.

“To think you kicked me out of the team - and now look at you.”

“Good. Bye. Shougo.”

“Three years here, and you’re not going to play basketball for any of them. Better start coming up with excuses to not play with your miracle buddies. They’re all going to have way surpassed you as players by the time we graduate.”

Akashi’s faintly aware of his shoulders shivering, as he glowers at Haizaki.

“Watch your tone,” he snarls.

For a second, Haizaki looks a little unnerved, as if he’s instinctually reverted back to the days Akashi was his captain. But the emotion soon passes. All that follows is a smug grin that haunts Akashi for the rest of the day.

It’s the disrespect; that’s what Akashi can’t handle.

The mere concept that some arrogant fool like Haizaki, who’s never worked for anything in his life, could have been handed a place on the first string on a plate, just because someone somewhere (Hanamiya) has such fun meddling with people’s lives.

*****

If Akashi had ever liked Haizaki at all, had ever held a single non-negative emotion towards the guy, he soon loses it. The boy's like a kanji whose definition you search up once, and now you’re seeing it everywhere you go. For weeks, Akashi hadn’t known Haizaki was a member of the same school. Yet now they've been bumping into each other every day. And, every time, Haizaki’s got trainers on, or a basketball in his hands - if he had had half as much an enthusiasm for the sport during middle school, then maybe he would have been able to continue as a member on the team - and he meets Akashi’s gaze to smirk, as the ball spins on his finger.

The time he once spent playing basketball, Akashi now spends riding, working on additional homework, studying Shogi tactics, and searching up Hanamiya’s name. The second year’s eyes tease him from within his computer screen, as he carefully reads through all the information on the Uncrowned Kings - searching for anything that he could possibly use against Hanamiya, since he’s already understood that this is an opponent he can’t face without preparation. But all he learns is that Hanamiya played ball with Imayoshi in middle school, that their team was expectedly successful, and that he won some university level prize for chemistry last year.

That, and (from a blog on the third page of Google results, by some kid who faced the Kirisaki Daichi basketball team last year): “I used to like superhero movies. I liked how predictable they were - that you could always bet on the hero being stronger than the villain. But now I’ve faced that fucker Hanamiya, I don’t know about that anymore. He’s the shittiest piece of shit I’ve ever met, and, not only does he get away with it, but also he completely defeated against my senpais, who’d spent years training for that moment. It’s like he’s sent from hell.”

It’s with this blog in mind, that Akashi, with his newly acquired position as student council head, decides to forgo fighting with Hanamiya face-to-face, to make the matter political instead. That’s one angle he knows he can succeed at; it's what his father trained him for.

He's superior to Hanamiya - by far. He's a born talent, and he'll know nothing but success in his life, once he's sorted out the second year. Hanamiya's nothing but a cheap bully in comparison.

*****

“Finally,” Akashi announces, towards the end of the student council meeting, sat with his back straight, “I’m concerned about the basketball team.”

There’s a collective sigh to varying degrees, by the other members of the committee. One girl slips the boy beside her a 10,000 yen banknote, as he rolls his eyes.

“Look, Akashi, you’ve not been here long,” begins the 3rd year Vice President, adjusting his glasses, “but I’ll save you the trouble of wasting your time with this. If you’ve got a problem with them; well, no, you don’t.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” replies Akashi, who knows damn well what’s going on, but who wants to hear it admitted by these buffoons who have let Hanamiya run free across the school.

The student council has spent so many hours of their week sat in this room of mahogany chairs with plush purple seats, with the large, arch-shaped windows which overlook the campus grounds: mostly the golf course, but with the indoor gyms in the corner, where the Kirisaki Daichi basketball team is no doubt messing around as Akashi speaks (why would they bother practicing if all they do is injure opponents?) And thus student council enjoys many privileges too, which one would only deserve if they were keeping the school in order - but that's something which they lost all hope in managing, the minute Hanamiya stepped onto this campus unchained.

“We don’t get involved with Hanamiya, or anything he does, or any troubles he might have allegedly cause. Ergo, we don’t get involved with any of the rest of them either.”

“The headmaster-“

“The headmaster’s an old friend of the Yamazaki family’s. Even if he wasn’t, he loves Seto and Hanamiya - they’re the type that's guaranteed to get into Tōdai and become very powerful in the future - he's always indulging in them. You know, in the past, we only had a sports scholarship for golf, but this year, Hanamiya claimed he had to have one for basketball, something about a talented player who couldn't afford the school fees. So it was up to us to factor that into the school's budget, because God forbid someone goes against Hanamiya. You can do whatever you want as student council president - we all know you're more than qualified for the position - but just leave Hanamiya be.”

Fighting his inner rage at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, Akashi exhales slowly. How can favouritism be so blatant? How can a couple kids with better opportunities than others have so much power?

And, worse, everyone’s starting to get up already, undermining his own power as the president. Like they think this meeting’s over.

“Haizaki Shougo has injured teammates in the past.” Akashi adds quickly, “it’s not in the school’s interests to allow him to represent us.”

The girl that had been sat opposite Akashi - the editor-in-chief of the school’s magazine - slips her backpack onto her back, as she asks, “has he injured anyone here?”

“He very well might have.”

“Then take it up with the discipline council.”

Akashi allows a thin smile to form across his lips. Hope. Potential for at least one ally against the Kiridai team.

“Who’s the head of the discipline council?”

“Hanamiya.” When the Vice President looks at Akashi, there’s genuine pity in his eyes. “With all due respect, I think you should give this up.”

******

As Akashi makes his way through the school grounds, to where a chauffeur should be waiting to drive him home, he stops briefly by the flower beds by the entrance to the main building. They’re being tended by a tall man, with dark hair, and darker eyes, but his movements are gentle as he sprinkles root powder onto the soil under the rose bush.

If only, thinks Akashi (watching the stranger, hoping the splendid colours of the flowers might lower his blood pressure enough to not explode at his father this evening), his school life could be so simple. How nice would it be for his only responsibilities to constitute of some gardening here and there, in a world where useless bureaucrats, Hanamiya, and (by default) the basketball team, didn’t exist.

But even this dream is quickly shattered.

“Furuhashi!” yells a pink-head obnoxiously, with a basketball jersey loose around his torso. He's accompanied by the second year who had led Akashi to the gym on that fateful first day, “you seriously ditched us just for your roses? We’ve had to scour the whole campus looking for you - Hanamiya didn’t want us to leave without you, but, man, between you and post-practice udon-”

“You've known me this many years, Hara,” replies Furuhashi, standing up slowly, “and you really didn’t to check whether I was by the flowerbeds first?”

Only now does Furuhashi see Akashi. They stare at each other for a long moment - Akashi with nothing but disappointment in his eyes, and Furuhashi clearly wondering why a stranger looks so disgruntled with his existence - until Hara interrupts.

“Oh hey, Akashi,” he grins, “you wouldn’t be standing there, hoping we’d invite you to join us, would you? Alas, only the first string’s allowed on these outings. But, if you wipe down the court, then I might just put in a good word for you.”

The man beside him chuckles. Furuhashi rolls his eyes, and wipes the remnants of soil of his trousers.

Akashi walks off without looking back once. He walks so fast he’s practically jogging. The more he hears of the pink-head’s voice, the more he thinks of Kise, or of all the Teikō team and of the times they spent together, post-practice, whilst now they’re spread across the country, whilst he’s stuck at a school with Haizaki and Hanamiya, because his father is so convinced his son will become a politician.

“I see you’re not on the basketball team anymore,” says the man that evening. His are the only words said over dinner; Akashi doesn’t trust himself to open his mouth. “Good. You should join the golf club instead; the prime minister’s son’s an alumni of theirs.”

In the night, Akashi dreams that he’s in an exam hall, but he can’t understand any of the questions in the test before him, and he’s not got a pen with him either. Feeling nauseous, he raises a hand, and the teacher lets him leave to the toilet - but with a distrustful glimpse in her eye, like she thinks he’s just a cheat. When he stands up, his belt snaps. Forced to hold his trousers in place himself, he runs all the way to the school bathrooms, but, when he finally finds a stall available, the lock on the front is broken, and Hanamiya’s filming him with a grin.

He wakes at 2am, yet can’t fall back asleep. Instead, he decides to search up the meaning of the dream, before shortly closing his computer again after all that comes up is insinuations of stress, fear, and cowardice. What’s worse is that it’s possible. He might be stressed. He might even be nervous.

At 3am, he finds himself watching a recording of Kirisaki Daichi’s match with Seirin last year. And, maybe it’s just the delirium of only having slept a couple hours, but, when the pixelated Hanamiya snaps his fingers and Seirin’s centre is moved out of the court on a stretcher shortly after, Akashi shivers.

He feels feverish, sick and cold at the same time, and yet he plays the match on repeat till 7am comes around, and it’s time to prepare for school.

*****

Hanamiya grins when he sees Akashi - and his rumpled shirt, and the dark circles under his eyes - during lunch.

“I hear you’re student president now,” he says, as he wraps his arm around the first year’s shoulders, close enough that Akashi can see the redness of the captain's knuckles, remnants from the previous student he dealt with.

Around them, students cast quick looks at the duo as they walk past. They gaze at Hanamiya with curiosity and thinly veiled worry, and at Akashi with nothing more than sympathy. He’s never felt more humiliated.

At last, glaring and making sure his voice retains a cutting edge, Akashi replies, “I am.”

“Well I don’t know if you know, but I actually run the discipline committee,” Hanamiya’s voice is practically singing, as he gives Akashi's arm a squeeze, “so if you ever have a problem with anyone, if anyone’s ever bothering you, just let me know. I’ll soon sort them out for you.”

Akashi clenches his fist, stares down at the ground. Bitter, bitter rage rises within him, but stronger is the sense of defeat. His heart tells him to apologise - for anything at all, just to get this man off his back - though he refuses to allow himself to sink so low. Better, he knows, would be to leave before he says something he’ll regret.

And, as he walks away, he hears Hanamiya’s voice behind him - “I look forward to working with you, Sei!” - and the words ring in his head for the rest of the day, like a threat.

He understands now, if nothing else, what the captain means, when he talks about ‘trash’.

****

authors notes:

if the above fic is unreadable, it’s because i was up researching akashi at 4am, and then spent 5am onwards writing and editing this. lowkey, i really enjoyed writing this! in particular, putting the work in to write the point of view of a character i’ve written so little for in the past, was a lot of fun, and, more so, trying to fit in little canon details about akashi into this fic too. (he comes off a bit of a patronising twat in the manga/anime, but, man, there’s a whole to be uncovered between the lines). so, hopefully, if any of y’all are akashi fans, you won’t notice too many ooc aspects in this :D

also, i'd like to dedicate these odd 2.2k words to @dust-of-fandoms and @thecrimsonacademic ! your enthusiasm towards this au really motivated me, so i hope you like this addition to the first part :)

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scribble-fox · 4 years ago

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Secondary English Teaching in WA; An Open Letter.

I am an English teacher. I do this job because it is a calling. It’s a passion. It’s something that can make a real difference in people’s lives. But I have a problem and it’s a problem that affects all of us. I am failing to be the best I can be because there is simply too much to do.

In the first place the job of an English teacher encompasses a lot. A child needs to be able to read and write and understand sophisticated vocabulary. They need critical thinking and empathy and the ability to comprehends both fine detail and larger trends. They need creativity and accuracy and clarity and conciseness. But we also look at modern issues, new media, social values and the broad and changing landscape our students must make sense of. This stuff is all in the curriculum in grand sweeping statements up for our interpretation. We are good at our jobs. We do our best to arm our students with the skills and knowledge they need to take on the world they will head into and if only that were our only job.

Not only must we compete with rapidly changing media and the increasingly diverse set of backgrounds and beliefs, but we must individualise the learning experience for each of the 31 children in each class. If we have an hour of lesson and we manage to get into it right away without any disruptions – the children all magically sit in their seats with pens and paper out smiling eagerly and quietly up at us – that still gives us less than two minutes per student. Many of our classes contain five, six, seven – I once had 13 – students with individual education plans. This means I need to remember who needs checklists and who needs chunked instructions and who I can’t directly instruct and who needs coloured paper and who must be reminded to wear their glasses. All while managing the behaviour of 31 teenagers, many of whom have mental or emotional issues to contend with.

This is just in the classroom. Contrary to popular belief, teachers don’t go home at three o’clock and spend half their lives on holiday. A study of English teachers in NSW found the average English teacher was working 49.4 hours per week. But that includes part time teachers. Those of us on a ‘full load’ often work 55+. Each class takes planning. Each IEP needs adjustments within those. Each class takes printing and prepping and most of all, marking. The biggest problem with comparing English teachers to other secondary teachers is the marking. On average, a paper in English takes 15 minutes to mark. If you have the standard five hours of DOTT time (duties other than teaching) then you can mark 20 in a week, assuming no interruptions. But remember that a class is 31 and a teacher has many classes. Some weeks you have three or four classes worth of marking to do. And when are you supposed to make resources, find worksheets, read texts, do professional development? In what other job are you expected to spend your weekends sitting at a desk?

Then there’s the admin. More and more of it. Recently I spent an entire hour of DOTT time recording unsubmitted assessments in each student’s digital profile. Another hour I spent calling parents because a no surprises policy means you have to contact home at any hint of failure. Two hours after school filling in reports on negative behaviours and the consequences that resulted. I’ve spent my short lunch time making sure misbehaving students scrape gum from under the desks or finish off work they didn’t bother to do in class. I’m supposed to put the goal, the lesson resources, the homework and a detailed plan online for every single lesson. Forget about excursions. No one on a full English load has time for that. And job progression? There’s a reason most principals and deputies are ex Phys Ed or Math. I’ve wasted hours doing the same few professional developments over and over because they are required. I’ve had three identical sessions on how to use a particular piece of technology and I know what the process is for dealing with asbestos despite the complete irrelevance it has to my position. The kids with IEPs have a separate reporting system that requires us to comment on each curriculum point tackled. We are expected, especially if we are young, to be on committees and in working parties and be going above and beyond. We are already going above and beyond. A not-English teacher has too much work to get on with. We are being paid the same wage to do twice as much.

But it isn’t money we want. We aren’t greedy. We aren’t complaining about the pay. What we want is conditions we can work in. What we want is to be able to be the best we can be. The number one asset to education – the one thing that makes all the difference – is teachers. Teachers are the biggest factor in the success of a child’s education (See Hattie 2018) and a school’s stats, and we cannot be great teachers when we are stretched this thin. Is it any wonder really that our literacy has slipped so far? In the 2018 PISA rankings we dropped to 16th in reading. We were 8th back in 2006. 8th!

This problem compounds. With each year we are spread thinner and thinner. With each year our kids are further and further behind. And they are already coming into high school behind because primary school teachers aren’t specialists in everything. How could they be. Just because you can read and write, doesn’t mean you can teach phonics. And they are expected to cover English, Maths, Science, Humanities and Social Sciences and anything else they can’t get a specialist for. Kids also need to spread their writing between typing and digital literacy and handwriting. You wouldn’t believe how quickly their hands hurt from writing.

The problem, as it is, compounds but the plans are worse. In the name of progress, the plans in the department are to make sure kids have access to as many electives as possible. That sounds nice in theory. What this means in practice is that they lose lessons in their core subjects. One school is already paving the way for this with only three hours of English (and other core subjects) per week for lower school kids. Are they crazy? School is about creating a strong foundation to build on. Gap years are for trying things out. This tester school has been testing it for a few years now. But the test has failed. Kids are struggling. And of course, they are struggling! The English curriculum is huge. The subject is challenging. We already know that it’s too much, even to be delivered in four or five hours a week. Soon, English teachers everywhere will be expected to cram their carefully crafted courses into 3/5ths the time. Well, we won’t stand for it. Not least of all because we won’t cope. The teachers at this tester school aren’t coping. Especially when it means a fuller timetable.

How does less classes mean a fuller timetable? Well, just like for subjects with a lighter marking load, teachers are timetabled by teaching hours, not by number of classes. Instead of teaching four or five different classes. Teachers end up with six or seven. Either all lower school or the gaps are filled with subjects out of area. What does more classes and more students mean? More marking, more planning, more admin.

But there is a solution. There is a way to lift the standards of our teachers and our students in turn. Give English teachers less work. Put a cap on the number of students and classes. Make a full-time load for English teaching .8 (Hale does it!). Don’t expect out of hours work. Make less admin or provide aides to do it (Job creation?). Don’t cram curriculum into three lessons a week and fill up any extra time. Don’t interrupt the term with constant assemblies and activities. If you have to add more work, employ more people to do it. It’s simple and It makes a colossal difference.

I’m an English teacher. I dream of being able to plan interesting and innovative lessons. I long to provide the support my students need. I need to inspire. I know I can change lives. I can empower children to break free of poverty and trauma and build a future we can all be proud of. That’s what all teachers dream of but right now we are drowning. Right now, we are treading water in a vast ocean, hidden behind the waves and the swell and we are shouting to the distant shore. Hear us. Please hear us.

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silkhy-john · 4 years ago

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Fun fact, the names of towns and cities in each region in pokemon had themes to them (buckle in, this is a long post)

So, I've known this since 2013-ish, but it's a fact that never stops amazing me, you know?

Let's talk about them (I'm doing gen 1 to 5, English names)

Kanto [Gen 1 (RGBY), Gen 2 (GSC), Gen 3 (FrLg), Gen 4 (HGSS), Gen 7 (LG:P/E)]

Pallet Town is literally a painter's pallet, and all the other towns and cities are named after colours. Yes, there's symbolism there.

Also, each town's dominant colour is the colour of it's name (e.g. Fuchsia City has fuschia streets)

I'll discuss the Sevii Isles in a separate post, cause FUN FACT, there are actually 2 explorable regions in Gen 3 Kanto.

Johto [Gen 2 (GSC), Gen 4 (HGSS)]

All the towns in Johto are named after:

1. Trees (Goldenrod, Mahogany, Blackthorn, Violet (a Jacaranda tree), Blackthorn...)

2. Tree-related terms (Newbark, Cianwood (based more on the colour of the wood (Cyan) than it is on any one tree), Cherrygrove (not just cherry; but a grove of cherry)

Newbark Town is also a symbolic name, in that: though it's not a specific tree, all growing trees, in some way, replace their barks. It's shows beginnings and growth.

Hoenn [Gen 3 (RSE), Gen 6 (ORAS)]

All of the towns amd cities are, essentially, compound words that describe them. I use essentially because some of the component words are modified, either by getting rid of syllables and/or letters, adding syllables and/or letters.

The only really interesting towns/cities here are Littleroot, Sootopolis, and Evergrande.

Littleroot is called Littleroot because:

1. It IS a little town.

2. It's not the beginning of the MC's journey, but it is the first place they put down roots; little roots.

Sootopolis:

It's obviously a combination of Soot and Metropolis.

While Metropolis makes some sense (some is the operative; I don't really see it as a centre of anything economic or urban for Hoenn (that would be shared between Mossdeep and Lilycove) but it does seem densely populated???) However, it IS the location of the Cave of Origin, so maybe that's the determining factor... I'm not sure here, you tell me.

Now for Soot, there's multiple ways to look at it depending on the games(and essentially, timeline) you're discussing (RSE or ORAS). RSE Sootopolis is located in the crater of an extinct volcano, while ORAS Sootopolis is in the crater of a meteor impact (again, timelines. Zinnia? Deoxys? Making some connections I'd hope). Volcanos and Meteor Impacts tend to produce a lot of soot, but I don't think that's it.

Through bits of info from some of the NPCs in the game, we can assume that Sootopolis was the site of Groudon and Kyogre's first battle. Most battles tend to be described as "flaming", and afterwards, "ashes settle". Ashes can be thought of as soot. And here comes my second theory "Soot" comes from the fact that a great battle was held in the crater. That's it.

It could also be named Soot to solidify the relationship between it and Mt. Pyre. You can ask me about this one or whatever.

Evergrande:

The reason this one is here is because I feel that the name is... oxymoronic. "Evergrande" implies that the city is larger than life (grande) and that that quality is eternal (ever) and yet... it has nothing, really. Someone in the developer's team is laughing, but I'm not sure who...

(And before anyone talks about the Pokemon League being part of the city; yes it is, but it isn't a permanent residence, or a residence at all, except for the Elite 4, the champion (not you though), and certain important staff)

Sinnoh [Gen 4 (DPPt)]

A hodgepodge of themes, really. Some towns are have compound word names, and others... aren't.

Twinleaf Town is a place of beginnings. Twin leaves are normally found on the apical meristems of plants, which are sites of active growth. So.

I think I'll do all the other towns as well.

1. Sandgem. Sinnoh's gem when it comes to a settled and sandy beach, because all other beach locations either have a small stretch of beach with rocky shores (Sunnyshore) or are really high end and only really populated by snobbish people like Backlot or wannabes (Valor Lakefront, the Resort Area)

2. Jubilife. Life is Jubilant here (cause business is booming, it's Sinnoh's economic hub).

3. Oreburgh. It's an autonomous municipal corporation (a city, lol) where ore is mined, usually coal-rich ore.

4. Floaroma. The aroma of flowers is particularly strong in this town. Wonder why....

5. Eterna. First non-compound word. It and one other town share this quality + a sort of mystical name. It's Eternal, why? It's super close to the foot of an extremely sacred mountain.

6. Hearthome. Home is where the heart is, and I think this must be your mother's home town (inferred from dialogue with her + others in the contest hall). Also, while Eterna and Celestic are close to Arceus, Hearthome is the home and heart to Sinnoh's core religion and what seem to be some of Sinnoh's origins (the strange structures in Amity Square).

7. Solaceon. Life in this place is a sort of solace from all the city life, has been for aeons. It's your domestic country town where work starts in the early morning, ends in the early evening, and entertainment and recreation is done in the bar out of town to avoid the corruption of the youth.

8. Veilstone. The city isn't just built from the rock; it's hewn from it.

9. Pastoria. Honestly don't know for this one. Someone... anyone really, please tell me.

10. Canalave. The city is built around a canal, and all life in it seems to subsist on economic activities based on said canal (except the library)

11. Celestic. It's the closest to Coronet's peak. It still holds certain traditions, such as elders and shrines. Celestial because of how close it is to creation, not just in space, but in time too. Also the, the "stic" might come from mystic, but I'm not so sure, so it and Eterna share a category.

12. Snowpoint. The snowiest point in Sinnoh that isn't Mt Coronet itself. Pretty cool, huh.

13. Sunyshore. Sunniest town in Sinnoh; so sunny , in fact, that the road is paved with solar panels? How does that work???

Unova [Gen 5 (BW/BW2)]

All the towns are named after clouds and cloud-terminologies.

I won't discuss any of the towns here, I'll do that in another post (cause I want to include images of the clouds too, but I'm feeling too tired and want this up as soon as possible, lol)

And, we, are... done. Wow. Next time, Unova, and then the Sevii Isles. Maybe Stadium, Stadium 2 and XD? Hmmmm...

#pokemon #kanto (pokemon)#johto #hoenn #sinnoh #unova #this is longer than i thought it would be gosh #i hope you enjoy anyway

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pinkysfaultorbrainsfault · 5 years ago

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animaniacs - s4e8: mindy in wonderland

episode summary: a lighthearted episode about mindy chasing a rabbit down a hole in the tree she’s always tied to, and ending up in a magical, literary dreamland. there’s no mice, but it’s fun, and takes up the whole runtime, and-- what? no, i-- look, it’s just-- i don’t--

sir, you don’t pay me at all--

alright fine ugh ughghghguhgughgu ugh.

great.

episode summary: the hip hippos are expecting a baby! unfortunately, ordering babies off the internet instead of concieving them through, like, hippo sex? appears to have its’ downsides, and instead they are presented with.... brain.

look, i don’t know either, okay? i’m dragging my hands down my face as we speak.

the rundown:

we open with the stork.

“i got a very special delivery! the rockefellers have been waiting weeks for this one.” he pronounces it “spatial”, probably because he’s high out of his mind. this is not a sober bird. please don’t drop that baby, my dude. that’s going to cause more problems than it solves, really.

spoke too soon, i guess.

unfortunately for him, our dude does exactly that, and ends up taking a bit of a tumble. gets all dizzy. this does not bode well for the plot. or the wellbeing of the baby, actually!

hold up. computer, zoom, enhance.

hmmm. that is a very familiar tiny face. troubling. anyway our resident avian expert on drugs seems to have survived his accident, and drops the baby off to the rockefellers with no further trouble.

they seem to look more. hippo shaped than usual.

“congratulations! you’re new parents!”

you’re welcome, weird stoner bird. they slam the door on him, wordlessly exacerbating his injuries. they care not for his plight, only that of their dearest, darling... not very.... hippo sized...................... baby.

hm.

“oh flavio! darling! a baby of our own, just look at him! let us call him--”

“--alfredo!”

“goo.”

alright. as existentially horrifying as this episode is, i laughed. maurice lemarche, completely dead in the face, sits in the recording booth, stretches his shoulders. “goo.” he says. deadpan. no intonation whatsoever. the audience cheers and he is given a thousand dollars.

i don’t know what it is about brain saying basically anything that appeals to my sense of humour so much. jockey for position basically did me in. i just. every time he says “goo.” i am in TEARS.

the hippos seem to have lost their enthusiasm, as anyone would have if they heard the voice of a grown man come out of their newborn baby.

“he’s... small. very small.”

“goo.”

still, marita sympathises with him. this is very definitely her child, after all! she steals him away to do mom things with, chastising flavio that ‘alfredo’ is “their little boy.”

“oh, you are right, my lightbulb of love. now our little universe has expanded to three.”

yeah, don’t include your.... shoulder... birds, then. asshole.

it’s very cute, i’ll say that. for all the fuss i make about the hippos, they do love each other, in a very healthy way that you don’t often see with married couples on tv. like, they’re kind of slowdancing their way out of the room. it’s nice! they would make good parents.

(”goo.” says brain, in the background, oblivious to the heterosexuality happening around him. “now, take me to my money.”)

credit to flavio and marita; they are very well prepared. this is a very loved baby. i’m not entirely sure how any child would feel about the presence of Clown Bear, but it’s the thought that counts. also i know that’s a changing table? but the design is sick and i wouldn’t mind a chest of drawers like that.

there’s also a theatre, i guess. or..... maybe just a really fancy shower???

Definitely Alfredo is gently placed on his little Alfredo Table. he appears to be asleep, or at least he’s deliberately choosing to keep his eyes closed. can’t think why.

but he, ah. sure went all out for this one. i respect brain for his dedication to the craft.

“now, sweet baby alfredo,” says marita, while the music does a terrifying swell in the background, for some reason, “it is time for your first bath.”

please stop looking at me like that, marita. YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO BATHING. am i about to be inducted into the alfredo cult?? i am, admittedly, a manlet, but i would like to think i am also unmistakably larger than a baby hippo.

(google has no data about the height of a baby hippo, apparently. they do weigh about 100lbs at birth, though, so i guess i have to be careful with this losing weight shtick. not that i’m ever gonna weigh 100lbs, quite frankly, but the minute i do marita’s gonna climb through my window and steal me off to los angeles.)

(i’m terrified.) (on the other hand, they’re definitely going to give me back as soon as they work out how much my medication costs over there.)

i’m literally babbling nonsense, at this point. anyway. brain gets a bath.

remember to Wosh U Mouse. wash he teeth and soul. marita proclaims excitedly that “babies love the bath”, and Definitely Alfredo is Definitely Enjoying Himself, judging by the screaming, so, yknow, good for him.

and then, i guess, flavio just pours boiling water on him for no reason, so brain freaks out and launches himself into the light fitting.

because wouldn’t anybody?

the hippos freak out a bit when the lights stop working, but soon get brain back down to resume their usual Alfredo Activities.

“this is highly undignified.”

but still, marita loves him.

and then she stabs him in the dick, i guess.

“GAH.”

“oops ):”

fortunately, nobody ever died of getting stabbed in the dick (as far as i know?) but even magical babies delivered by amazon need to get their vitals checked, so flavita take him to the hospital anyway.

bomf.

i’ll be dead honest with you, this scene is just torture porn. i’ll summarise it as best i can.

temperature is fine. blood pressure is normal. i am pretty sure inflating babies is not standard medical practice, but brain is cosmically unable to have a good day or he dies, i guess.

the doctor shows up.

“oh, but you’re a cutie. say aaaah.”

“if you think that you’re going to stick that thing in my--”

it’s not very comfortable.

“hmm. rather puny.”

“you have to feed him more.”

NOW LET’S TEST YOUR REFLEXES

i’m pretty sure this man has never been to medical school.

“and now to vaccinate. my, that’s a lot of zeros.”

my, that’s a... screenshot that lives on my laptop now, i guess. hopefully nobody i know ever has to borrow this thing, for whatever reason.

“i’ll see you in three months for a booster shot,” says dr acme, as brain swells and changes colours in a way that no baby ever should.

i feel like this is a good time to interject - my issue with this episode is not the core themes, or anything surrounding them. it’s the amount of unrestrained suffering that goes on within that. like. okay. if this was some kind of consensual dynamic between the three of them for-- whatever reason???? stress?????? - like i wouldn’t mind. i wouldn’t care. consenting adults can do whatever they want with their bodies. this is a positive space. no judgement here on pinkys fault or brains fault dot com.

but it’s not and brain spends most of the episode in pain and terrified and that’s really what i object to above all else. it’s the same problem i have with peatb, really. brain can wear as many cute dresses as he wants, but he’s gotta want to wear them.

but they’re back at the Hippo Digs now so. it’s fine, i guess.

“such a good boy. that trip to the doctor wasn’t so bad, was it?”

hm.

still, it appears i can never escape Terrifying News Lady, even in this hellscape. flavio does the classic dad thing of sitting down with the tv as soon as he’s home, leaving marita to deal with getting Definitely Alfredo settled in his correctly-sized-for-a-baby-hippo baby chair.

what are those straps connected to, anyway??? it’s not the chair, that’s for sure. is brain just wearing a harness for the hell of it? what on earth is going on?

but flavio! it’s time to feed the baby!

“is baby-waby hungry-wungry?” well are you, cranky big head mousie??? huh????

sorry for the paralysing fear that probably caused all of you. undeterred, the terrifying news lady continues to talk in the background about the “richest and most influential child in the world.”

oh no.

flavio vaguely wonders if they waited too long to feed their baby, as he has what could be possibly classified as a tantrum.

“you sophomoric, corpulent, pachycerebal aristrocrats! you are imposters and i demand to be taken to the rockefellers immediately!”

the birds don’t care. they’re chilling. marita attributes this to “baby gibberish” while flavio wonders about the “vocabulary he learnt from mr rogers”. he’s maybe a few hours old, at this point, a day tops, but i guess hippos learn latin in pre-k or something.

anyway so then they stick a tube down his throat and inflate him with guacamole.

and with that, “alfredo looks healthier already!”

this is the second time brain has been inflated in this episode. it is unsurprising that he dedicates his nights from this point to raising absolute hell.

but he needs pats first because he ate too much. :<

cut to that night, i guess! where brain is very convincingly crying. very loudly. the hippos look unimpressed, despite the fact that this is literally the most common factor of signing up for a baby.

“it’s the baby. you take care of him.”

well. alright.

air mouse. nyoom. he seems to catapult himself at something, like, once per episode. it’s on par with the closeups by now, surely.

bomp.

unfortunately, the bear is not weightbearing (bear ing. lol) and falls off the shelf on an epic quest for a Great Big Hug.

the resulting bomp alerts the hippos, who go fully, entirely haywire the moment they work out that Definitely Alfredo is not in his correctly-sized-for-a-baby-hippo baby bed.

turns out flavio sat on him.

“really, flavio, be more careful where you sit.”

so they put a padlock on his crib.

this is completely useless. i know this. brain knows this. he’s small enough to just... fit through the bars. but he decides to be dramatic, instead, because that’s what he does best.

“attica! attica! i want out! let me out!”

i am not old enough to get this reference.

i am, however, old enough to empathise with this exact emotion. i feel kind of bad for the hippos, actually. i’m sure they were doing what they thought was... right? in the context of... thinking they had a baby hippo rather than an adult mouse. easy mistake to make. i go check on my weirdly tiny hippos in their hippo cage all the time.

but who could be at the door?

“there seems to have been a mix up. uh. i have your baby right here.”

and guys?

i need to tell you how fast they just throw brain at the guy. it’s actually a little heartbreaking.

but! it’s okay! he still has time to make it to the rockefellers before they......... die. i guess.

man, this plan was not thought out very well.

conclusion:

thank god this is almost over.

the stork repackages the baby, who is now a good few hours old, at least, and delivers the bundle to the very, very different looking house.

they are not any nicer.

“oh, reggie. just look at him.”

“goo.”

“well, frau haussenheffer, we’re off on a cruise. goodbye baby. see you in a year.”

parenting!

“alright then. staff, we have a brand new charge.”

oh dear.

brain, as one can imagine, is having none of this.

but unfortunately, neither is the carpet.

bomp. cause of death: suffocating in the rockefeller mansion carpet.

good thing it all sort of blurs out, huh.

“brain?” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA “brain.” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA “brain, wake up.”

“i was dreaming?”

oh, thank god for that.

“oh, pinky, you wouldn’t believe the nightmare i had.” and it’s... probably best not to tell him, actually.

“it must have been a doozy, brain! but, oh, a delivery came for you.”

“it’s the rockefeller baby. can we keep it?”

oh dear.

so let’s ignore the fact that this asks more questions than it answers-- but okay, was that a dream within a dream, and why was brain dreaming about that in the first place, and-- and mark this one down as a severe case of outside influence.

brain: 3 ½ pinky: 5 ½ outside influence: 10

“it’s not too late. i demand that you deliver me to the rockefellers immediately!”

“

“aw, how cute. i just love baby gibberish.”

#patb #a!#pinky and the brain #animaniacs #i'm almost done with a! now!#only one more short to go #more importantly #i'm done with this short specifically. so i never have to watch it again

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breakingsomething · 5 years ago

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october tenth - part three

ok so this one is 8.7k words so be warned. tagging @beebmo for inspiring this idea!

basic summary: aiden takes guitar lessons. jack meets a man in a store. both of them keep secrets and don't communicate, as per usual.

trigger warnings: blood, alcohol, mentions of murder, self harm

aiden hadn't realized just how lacking in social skills he was until he was attempting to make contact with someone other than jack for the first time.

the door of the music store was red, with a small window on the front. it was covered in colourful flyers and newsletters, advertising various events and things aiden knew nothing about. there was a small sign that said "push" in bold black letters. aiden had been staring at it too long to feel comfortable. shaking slightly in his long black coat and beanie. too afraid to step inside.

"excuse me, are you going in or not?"

aiden jumped, not turning to look and see who had spoken but instead quickly pushing open the door open and stepping inside. the store was much warmer than the biting air outside, the lights so bright it made aiden wince. there were stacks of records and cds and vinyls, so many vivid colours and patterns and fonts. a loud song aiden didn't recognize blasted over speakers above. aiden felt his lips twitch at the corners. oh, he thought he already loved this place. was it just because it was somewhere other than jack's place? he didn't know. didn't care enough to think about it.

he glanced around for the employee he was supposed to talk to, anxiety bubbling in his chest again. it wasn't just that he was an introvert or antisocial, though he supposed those were supporting factors - but he had literally never held a conversation with anyone other than jack in his life. on a couple occasions he'd spoken a few words to others, but now… now, he was not only going to have to talk, but pretend to be jack at the same time. which he could do. maybe. in front of a camera was one thing, but…

"can i help you, sir?" said a man dressed in all black, with a nametag on his shirt. rhudy, it said his name was. "are you jack? just wondering, you look rather lost."

aiden just nodded, for all his usual cockiness suddenly rendered unable to speak. rhudy smiles, dimples appearing in his pale cheeks. "alright!" he stretched out a hand for aiden to shake. he didn't take it, swallowing hard, and rhudy retracted his arm without changing expression. "come round the back, i'll show you around. we only have a small space for lessons, hope you're not claustrophobic, ha!" he beamed, and turned to walk in the other direction, quickly weaving through the shelves.

no, he wasn't claustrophobic. he was, however, breathing very heavily and feeling rather like he needed to sit down. he wanted jack. gods, he wanted jack. with a shuddering breath - this was pathetic, he needed to calm the fuck down - he followed the other man to the back.

it was small. red walls covered in shelves, stacks of different instruments in one corner next to a large window covered with white curtains. there were five chairs in a circle in the centre of the room on top of an oval crimson rug. rhudy pulled a chair and sat, aiden very slowly following but staying as far away from him as he could. every nerve in his body was screaming at him to run.

"now, jack," the man said, running his fingers though wavy black hair, dyed blue at the ends. "my name's rhudy, pronounced roo-dee, it's great to meet you. you told me you know a bit of guitar already?"

jack had told him that. aiden nodded again, biting his tongue so hard blood welled up in his mouth.

rhudy gave a small laugh, reaching behind him and grabbing a red acoustic guitar, much like aiden's own but definitely in better condition. "do you talk, then? nothing wrong if you don't want to, just wanting to know."

aiden flushed, forcing himself to open his mouth. "yeah, yeah, course," he said, far too quickly. his fingers gripped the underside of his seat far too tightly.

rhudy blinked, then tilted his head slightly. there was a moment of silence before he spoke, his words sending spikes through aiden's heart. "your name isn't jack, is it?"

aiden was going to throw up. "course it is," he laughed nervously, voice far too high pitched. fuck, but he hated this man for making him feel this way. how did he know, how did he -

"no," rhudy said firmly, leaning forward in his seat, guitar on his lap forgotten. "it's not. and you're…" he lowered his voice. "you're definitely magic or something, it's coming off you in waves. what kind of magician are you, then?" he folded his hands. "also, what's your real name? just by looking at you, i think maybe it starts with an a." he started listing off ideas, ignoring aiden's small noises of protest. "andrew? anthony? aleksanteri? antiseptic?"

he then seemed to notice how pale aiden had gone and how badly he was shaking. "oh, oh, i didn't mean to upset you," he said, sitting up again awkwardly.

"y-you didn't," aiden spat, trying to disguise his panic with anger. he wanted to fucking kill this man, he wanted to… oh, this wasn't right, he couldn't be here, he had to go home to jack. aiden stood, pushing past the chairs and making for the door. "i think this was a mistake."

"wait, wait!" rhudy said, setting his guitar aside as he leapt to his feet and stumbled past the chairs to stand in front of aiden. "i am so sorry, i get carried away sometimes and i swear i didn't mean to -" he took a breath. "sorry, really. i'll call you jack if you want."

aiden burned. he wanted to run, he wanted to pull the switchblade from his jacket pocket and rip this man's throat out. "ok," he instead said softly. more blood in his mouth as he sat back down, rhudy following.

he narrowed his eyes, desperately trying to push through his slowly building panic attack and regain some semblance of dignity. "magician," he muttered. "what makes you think i'm a magician?"

rhudy hesitated, reevaluating. aiden hated him. "you're… you smell like magic. harsh, like fire, or an overheating computer." he snorted, trying to keep eye contact with aiden. "do you do magic?"

aiden had come here for a guitar lesson. a fucking guitar lesson. "no," he said firmly. "i don't. do… do you?"

rhudy nodded. "you don't know about… well, suppose it doesn't matter." and before aiden can say a word, he picked up the guitar again. "anyway, let's -"

"hey, wait, you can't - you can't just dump that shit on me and then teach me guitar!" aiden spluttered, throwing up his arms. "how did you know my name wasn't -" shit. he visibly winced. rhudy just smiled, eyes twinkling.

"i know things," he said, tapping the side of his head. "that's one thing i'm good at. knowing things. clairvoyance, it's called."

clairvoyance. wow, everything made sense now.

rhudy absentmindedly plucked a tune on the guitar strings, raising an eyebrow. "so your name's not jack?"

"no," aiden admitted. he didn't say anything else.

rhudy nodded. "ok, i'm calling you antiseptic then. more badass name than fucking andrew. unless that is your name?" aiden shook his head. "ok. anyway. we'll have plenty of time to talk about magic later. for now, let's just… ok. what songs can you play?"

rhudy was odd. rhudy was odd, and aiden did not know how to feel about him.

over the next two weeks, he explained a bit about the magic to him. from what he said, it seemed like magic was slightly more common that aiden had thought, which worried him. surely he would have noticed, surely he would have seen at some point? he'd considered the possibility that jack's creation of his magician had something to do with it, but that seemed ridiculous. bringing to life one person with magic powers was one thing, but a whole group of people? unless… unless jack was one of them. a particularly powerful magician, maybe. ugh, it hurt to think about.

aiden didn't tell jack what he'd learned.

well, he did tell jack some of the things he'd learned. the music related things, at least. jack had commented on how much he'd improved in terms of playing, and despite himself, aiden had swelled with pride.

"thanks. i guess lessons are paying off." he grinned. jack ruffled his hair as he walked by, and aiden attempted to swat at his legs as his friend laughed.

"oh, they are. i can say this now, but you were simply terrible before, aid. completely and utterly horrendous." he smirked and disappeared into the kitchen.

aiden rolled his eyes, zipping up his guitar case and preparing to head out again. "well, that's rude."

"it's just truth!"

aiden followed jack into the kitchen and stuck out his tongue. "ok, whatever. dickwad. what are you doing today?"

jack shrugged. "dunno. i've been watching dude perfect a lot, i was legitimately thinking about attempting to fly to texas and do a collab with them." he laughed at the ridiculousness of it, evidently trying to relieve the tension of making a joke like that. he knew aiden didn't like jack's collabs. "what do you think?"

aiden rolled his eyes, grabbing his boots from the shoe rack. he knew jack was only joking. "alright then, bro average."

"hey, that's so mean!"

"oh, i'm mean? you just told me my guitar was shite!"

"your guitar was shite, past tense!"

"fuck you, i'm leaving."

jack rummaged in the fridge, pulling out a rectangular bottle. "stacy, no, don't take the kids," he joked, twisting off the cap and taking a gulp.

aiden suddenly frowned. "are you day drinking, jay? seriously?"

jack shrugged and sat down at the table, pulling out his phone and adjusting his grey snapback. "this whiskey is nice. don't worry, i wouldn't get drunk without you."

"can't get drunk with me, either, if you don't want to kill me." aiden said as he tied his boots. "are you forgetting i can't drink?"

jack started, blinking like he'd just woken up. "oh… oh, yeah," he murmured softly. "yeah."

aiden didn't move for a second. then he came round the table and hesitantly placed a hand on the back of jack's neck. "jay, are you ok? you've been acting… a bit off, lately."

jack nodded, far too quickly. "yeah, yeah, of course," he reassured. "just a… i'm fine, don't worry."

aiden didn't have time to worry anyway. he was late for his lesson. he just smiled and told jack to take care of himself as he left, half jogging down the street with his case on his back.

yes, rhudy was odd. he talked about magic ever so casually when he was around aiden, and joked with him like he was an old friend. aiden was still debating killing him. but part of him thought… maybe he liked this guy. he was interesting, definitely. and he was good at guitar. and he was nice to aiden despite how rude and snappy he was. aiden couldn't understand him.

"hey, anti!" rhudy greeted him as soon as he came into the store. he had his hair back in the tiniest ponytail, curls hanging down in front of his face. he didn't try to high five aiden, either, which showed he'd at least been paying attention to his touch aversive tendencies. "good to see you, even if it it ten minutes late." he laughed, already starting for the back of the room. aiden smiled slightly. yes, he thought he did like this guy.

there was someone waiting in the back room.

"oh, is someone in here?" said the man who was sitting on aiden's usual seat. he had spiky brown hair and a long beard, a bass guitar resting on his legs. "sorry, bros, lemme move my stuff."

aiden and rhudy waited awkwardly as the man slowly packed up his guitar, chattering all the while. "no one told me this room was being used, rhudy, apologies. i thought it was free, didn't know you did lessons in here on thursdays."

"yep, i do," rhudy interrupted. "it's ok, rory, just remember that for future."

aiden got the feeling rhudy wasn't exactly fond of this man. he shifted from foot to foot, tapping his fingers on his knife in his pocket.

rory looked up at the movement, standing up straight. "well, who's this awkward looking fellow?" he asked cheerfully, and aiden's face burned. the man flashed a grin. "name's rory. rhudy teaches me too sometimes, when i can pay him." he laughed, though no one else did. "so, you any good on guitar? can't be that great if rhudy's teaching you."

"hurry up, rory," rhudy said tiredly before aiden could do anything he wouldn't regret. "we have a lesson to have."

"naturally!" rory chuckled. he clapped aiden's shoulder, causing him to yelp and rory to laugh. "oho, calm down, i won't hurt you. a bit jumpy, are we?" he waved at rhudy as he went out, and he unwillingly waved back. "seeya, lads!"

the man had his phone in his pocket. by the time he'd left the room, aiden had gotten everything he needed. he sat down next to rhudy, shaking with rage and anxiety and disgust.

"sorry about him," rhudy said sympathetically. "he's… a lot to handle. doesn't mean any harm, really."

aiden didn't care. the second he was feeling upset enough to kill anyone again, this man was becoming his first new victim. he had his address now. fuck anything else.

but then rhudy tilted his head, looking aiden in the eyes. "can i touch your shoulder?" and just the fact that he asked touched aiden enough that he nodded, and before starting the lesson rhudy gently pat aiden's shoulder and smiled, and aiden felt strangely warm for the rest of the day.

everything was wrong.

everything was so painfully wrong that jack felt sick. if anyone had asked, he wouldn't have been able to tell them what the problem was, but he knew that something was so off it was making him shake and cause bile to burn his throat. he pulled his knees up to his chest on the couch and took a desperate gulp of his whiskey, hoping that maybe for a second it would burn this feeling away. it didn't. in fact, it seemed to make it worse.

he should be recording. he should be making videos. he shouldn't be shivering in his living room, curled up and drinking an expensive bottle of japanese whiskey. where was aiden? fuck, he needed aiden. he was going to throw up or pass out or something. part of him hoped for the latter if only to rip this strange horrible feeling right out of him.

no keys in the lock. no knock at the door. jack couldn't sit up to look at the couch, but he knew aiden wouldn't be back anytime soon. he let out a shuddering breath and laid sideways on the couch, his bottle falling to the floor. he didn't care. he fucking hated the taste anyway.

"i better go home soon," aiden said, though part of him really didn't want to. he was actually having a good time. he and rhudy had stopped playing guitar long ago - now they were just talking, or really, rhudy was talking and aiden was listening. which he was fine with, really. it was easier for both of them that way.

"aw, man," rhudy groaned exaggeratedly, slumping back dramatically in his chair. "really? come on, septic, stay here, i don't have any other lessons tonight."

aiden shook his head. part of him thought about staying, if only so he wouldn't have to go home and see jack. but he was getting tired anyway. "yeah, i should go."

rhudy made a face and stood. "ok, ok. see you tomorrow?"

aiden frowned as he slung his case onto his back. "i don't have a lesson tomorrow."

rhudy gave an embarrassed laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "oh yeah, you don't, do you," he murmured. then he raised an eyebrow. "would you like to? maybe somewhere… not here? like… out in the park or something?"

they made their way over to the door, aiden biting his lip. "you, uh, you wanna give me a guitar lesson in a park?"

rhudy nodded eagerly. "uh, yeah. a guitar lesson, yeah. just - yeah. if you want."

aiden shrugged, feeling a grin on his face. "yeah, sure, yeah. if you want."

"if you want."

"if you want!"

and despite wondering if maybe he was missing something obvious, aiden was smiling as he left the store and walked home, feeling light and warm.

that feeling immediately dissipated the second he walked in the house.

it was freezing. the windows seemed to be all open, a cold breeze blowing the curtains out. "bloody hell," aiden muttered, slamming one shut and glancing down the hall. "jack, you up?"

there was a moment of silence before aiden heard a sound that made every hair in his body stand on end. a sharp, pained whimper, coming from what seemed to be the living room.

he bolted down the hall, shrugging off his guitar and tossing it carelessly to the ground. when he came into the room, his heart dropped. jack was curled up on the couch, shaking badly, hands over his ears and blood on his face. his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and he didn't look up as aiden dropped to his knees beside the couch, gasping. "jack! jesus shit, jack!"

jack gave a small, pathetic cry. "no, no, leave me alone," he sobbed, drawing even further into himself. "don't touch, don't hurt, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!"

aiden cursed, noticing an empty bottle of alcohol on the floor near the couch. "fuck, jay, how much did you have to drink?"

"barely anything, swear, i don't drink, i don't!" jack cried, trying to cover his face and ears at the same time. "leave me 'lone, go away, don't want to hurt anyone, don't want to die!"

aiden's blood ran cold. "jack. jack, what are you talking about? did someone hurt you? did something - shit, jay, did you make another video?"

"no, no, no!" jack wailed, tossing and turning wildly. blood trickled from his eyes and onto the cushions below. "i didn't, aiden, didn't do anything, please!"

aiden couldn't get another coherent sentence out of him for another four or so hours. by the time jack calmed and was able to sit up and speak properly, it was late at night and the room was dark. jack leaned his head against aiden's shoulder, breathing heavily and shakily but still breathing, still breathing. aiden didn't know what to say.

"i'm sorry," were the first words jack said when he could speak. "i don't know what came over me."

aiden stroked his hair, the physical contact making him shiver. "there was blood and shit," he mumbled. "like a creation. but it was - you didn't make a video."

"i didn't make a video for you either," jack said, voicing what they were both thinking.

"i… i'm different," aiden said. "and we both know it."

jack glanced over, his eyes red. "different how?"

aiden didn't want to say it. he didn't want to say anything. so he didn't.

"maybe you have some kind of epilepsy too," he eventually said. "and that's why you have those…seizures."

jack snorted. "seizures that make me bleed from the eyes and create magic clones of myself?"

aiden smacked his chin into his knees. "well, you didn't make any magic clones this time." he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. "you just drank too much, that's all."

"drank one bottle of whiskey and bled like a demon," jack said under his breath, and aiden pretended not to hear him.

they spent the night watching voyager and eventually fell asleep, jack on aiden's legs and aiden slumped over the arm of the couch.

aiden left early the next day.

"who are you texting?" jack teased as he walked past aiden in the kitchen. they had wordlessly agreed to put the events of last night behind them until they had to face them. "and why-y do you have your guitar with you? you don't have a lesson."

aiden flipped him off without looking up. "because fuck you, that's why."

jack frowned. "be careful, aid."

he glanced up, relaxing and shooting a small smile. "when am i not careful, jack?" he furrowed his brow. "don't answer that."

after aiden had left, jack decided to go out shopping. it was early on a saturday, and there were a lot of families with kids and such, who jack carefully avoided as much as he could. he stopped in the sweets aisle, pondering buying aiden some black liquorice. he hadn't been spending a lot of time with him lately, and figured maybe he'd appreciate it. he was just throwing a bag into his basket when someone small bumped into his legs.

he jumped, turning round quickly to face whoever it was. a young girl, no older than six, with brown hair in a ponytail and a puffy pink jacket. "papa, connor's being mean!" she whined, not letting go of his legs. "i wanted to get the tangfastics, but he said he wanted them, but i asked first, papa! i asked first, i called bagsy!"

jack was stunned into silence for a second. "uh," he eventually managed. "uh, kid, i'm not your… your papa."

the girl looked up, bright blue eyes sparkling. "you're silly!" she grinned, then taking a step back. "lift me up, i lost connor and wanna see him over all the people!"

jack was just about to start panicking when someone came through the crowd, tapping the girl on the head. "lou-ise, did you -" he started, then he and jack both looked up and froze.

jack's first thought was - "aiden?" he said, confused. "what are you…"

but no, this wasn't aiden. but the man was jack's exact twin in every seemingly possible way. messy, yellow-green hair, a short brown beard, bright blue eyes, wearing a grey snapback and black leather jacket. he was staring at jack blankly, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. jack stared right back, mind absolutely racing.

his first instinct was to run. what if this was jackieboy man or the magnificent magician, the ones who had hurt aiden? but before he could do anything, before he could race down the aisle as quickly as he could, the girl next to him spoke. "you're not my papa!" she said, skipping over to her other man and the tiny blonde boy that jack assumed was her brother. she grabbed her papa's hand and both kids joined their father in staring at jack in awe.

"holy sh- my god," the man said after a moment, sounding just like jack but with an american accent. "you look - wow, that's so unbelievably weird. you are… you're like my exact twin. and i found you in an asda. what - what the hell?" he broke into a grin, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. "are you my long lost brother or something?"

jack made several noises, struggling to speak actual words. "i… uh…" he snorted, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "yeah, this is… weird."

"he even sounds like you, papa!" the boy cried, stepping forwards slightly. he made a face at jack, his sister giggling. their dad shook his head before letting go of his daughter's hand and stretching it out towards jack.

"sorry, uh, my name's chase," he said, still grinning. jack shook his hand, suddenly very aware of how many people were in here watching this go down. "chase brody. it's, uh, nice to meet you, even under these odd circumstances, ha."

jack forced a grin. he didn't recognize the name at all. he couldn't be the doctor either, then, the doctor was german and his name wasn't brody, it had been… schneeplestein? "my name's jack," he said. "yeah, wow. nice to - to meet you, yeah."

there were several seconds of awkward silence after that, until the girl spoke again. "are you our uncle?" she asked. "or papa's brother? why do you look like him? are you twins? do you know each other? are you his clone?"

jack laughed despite himself. "i wish i could answer any of those questions, uh…" he looked at chase questioningly.

"oh! this is louise, and my son, connor," chase introduced, tapping them both on the head in turn. "and, uh, we should probably get going, my wife will be wondering. wait a sec." he pulled a tiny notebook and pen from his pocket, scribbling something onto the paper. "i don't think this is something we can just walk away from and never think of again, so i'm gonna give you my number, maybe we can talk later." he handed the paper to jack, and he took it, both of them smiling awkwardly. "yeah. uh, good to meet you." he grabbed his children's hands again, and they both waved at jack as they turned round and started to walk off. "see you, dude!"

jack waved slowly, staring after them long after they were gone.

it was cold out. so cold out that no children or families were even in the park, leaving it all to aiden and rhudy. they chattered warmly as they crunched through the early september frost in the grass, making their way over to a spot in the field next to the trees and sitting on the freezing ground. rhudy had bought them food from greggs, and they ate as they talked, both guitars forgotten on their legs as they leaned against the trees. despite the chill, this was the warmest aiden had felt in a long time. it felt like easier days, like when jack and aiden had been able to get along and be friends instead of snapping and ignoring each other. it felt good. it felt happy.

this wasn't a feeling aiden was used to, but he wished he could be.

later on, they picked up their stuff and walked down on the beach. the tide was in, so they kept close to the wall, stumbling over rocks and slipping on seaweed, laughing loudly and clinging to each other. for once, aiden didn't mind the unexpected touch that he usually only accepted from jack. it felt happy. everything really did feel happy.

"come on, anti!" rhudy yelled, racing ahead of him across the rocks. aiden flipped him off, finding solid ground and taking advantage of it to run after him. he was aware of how stupid the both of them must look right now - two men in their late twenties chasing each other like children - but he suddenly didn't care. he didn't care, and he didn't know why. he was having fun. he wasn't feeling depressed, he wasn't thinking about killing himself, he was alive and it felt fucking amazing. he laughed as he tore across the rocks, almost catching up to rhudy, reaching out to grab his arm -

and slipping, falling -

"anti! anti, shit, anti!"

he groaned, bright light in front of his eyes the second he opened them. something digging into his back. sand on his hands, something sharp, his head, his head hurt - "fuck," he mumbled. he felt a pair of hands grab his, helping him sit up. "oh, oh, fuck, ow."

"anti, are you ok? shit, did you hit your head? are you bleeding? your hands are bleeding, shit," rhudy panicked. his hands were on aiden's shoulders, aiden's face. he let out a noise and leaned into the other man, his whole body aching.

rhudy ran his hands over his back. "hey, i think you're ok, i don't - i don't have a medkit, specifically, but we can go to mine and get -"

and suddenly the embarrassment of everything hit aiden all at once. what was he doing, running around like an idiot, getting so close to someone who was still mostly a stranger? he pulled back, cheeks burning in humiliation, struggling to push himself up. "i'm fine, i have to - i have to get home, my - my roommate will be worried about me."

rhudy nodded, too quickly. "oh, yeah, sure," he said. he grabbed aiden's hands again, trying to help him up, but he was suddenly just so fucking angry with everything that he pushed him off, stumbling to his feet himself. it was after he'd done that that he realized that had been a dumb idea - sand had gotten into the big cut on his hand, and it stung. he swayed on his feet, and rhudy helped steady him despite his yelp of protest.

"i'm - uh, i'm sorry you… can i walk you home?" rhudy blurted. aiden started making his way back up the beach, trying to subtly wipe sand off himself.

"i'll be fine," he mumbled. the last thing he needed was for jack to see him like this with another person.

despite that, rhudy walked him up to the gates of the park, occasionally looking at aiden like he wanted to say something but never doing so. at the gates, he stopped walking and hesitated. "anti, uh… sorry this didn't go so great. maybe next time we can go get food or something. less risk of injury." he laughed awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair. aiden eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he was mocking him.

"sure, yeah," he said, having no intention of going out with rhudy again. he'd stick with just the guitar lessons, thank you very much.

rhudy brightened, a smile spreading across his face. "cool!" he beamed. he clapped his hands together gently. "sure you don't want me to walk -"

"yes, i'm sure," aiden interrupted and left rhudy at the gate, beginning the walk back himself in silence.

jack wasn't at home.

that wasn't extremely unusual, but usually he left a note or something. aiden wandered through the house uncertainly, making sure there was really no one there, before collapsing to the couch and staring at the wall, thinking about how much of an idiot he was.

"aid-en. wakey wakey, i got you liquorice."

aiden slowly blinked, seeing a pair of bright blue eyes in front of his own. he didn't even remember falling asleep. "mm," he groaned, closing his eyes again. "thanks."

he felt a hand run through his hair, and he unwillingly let out a small, relaxed sigh. "what's up?" jack said softly. aiden heard him sink down next to him on the floor. "how were lessons with - shit, aiden, what happened to your hand?"

oh yeah. he'd forgotten. "fell," he mumbled, not bothering to elaborate. jack cursed silently.

"and you didn't disinfect it or bandage it or anything?" aiden made another sleepy "hmm" as a no. "fuck's sake. stay there, lazy bastard, i'll fix you up."

it was another quiet night for the both of them, although jack did decide to forfeit recording for a little while so as to sit with aiden, chattering and playing music loudly. and despite how his anger had faded to a soft numb burn, jack's presence was nice, and he felt slightly more alive than usual.

it was the next day that aiden noticed.

a new presence. a new electrical item in the house. that wasn't extremely unusual, but usually jack would tell him something like that, obviously knowing that aiden would recognize the change and wonder. the fact that he hadn't mentioned just made aiden more curious, and he followed the signature through the house, somehow unable to locate it exactly until late that night, when jack was recording and aiden found it in his coat pocket. a new phone. aiden hesitated, knowing he should respect jack's privacy like he'd promised and not look - but what was he doing with a whole new phone when he already had a perfectly good one?

one look. just one look. no harm could be done with just one look.

there was nothing on the phone. nothing but a text conversation to a number aiden didn't recognize.

the conversation had been initiated by jack, at two am that morning. aiden would have been asleep by then, he realized with a jolt.

hey, the message said. figured i'd message you.

the number had responded. hey there! i almost didn't think you'd text me.

who the fuck was this? a girlfriend? but why would jack have bought a whole new phone just to text her? heart racing, he kept looking.

course i did. look, i can't say much over text. can we maybe meet up again, same place we met? i want to talk to you again.

hell yeah, dude. tomorrow at twelve work for you? i gotta get the kids from school, so i can't do later than three.

sure. seeya then.

that was how the conversation ended.

ok, aiden thought. so jack was keeping secrets from him. "i can't say much over text" - hmm, wonder why that was. aiden reassembled and slumped against a wall, breathing heavily through his nose.

that fucking bastard. whoever it was he was meeting, it was someone he didn't want aiden seeing. and that was exactly why he was going to follow him and see who it was.

he thought aiden wouldn't notice if he bought a new phone? fucking idiot. it would have been easier to hide if he had just used his normal phone. did he really think aiden was stupid? he clenched his fists, biting his cheek so hard he tasted blood in his mouth. that asshole. that asshole. that fucking asshole.

by the time jack was done recording, aiden was in his room, pretending to be asleep. but in reality, he was already planning exactly what he was going to do the next day, and how he was going to tell jack what he knew.

"i'm going out," jack said, around eleven thirty the next day. aiden was sitting on the couch on his laptop, eating apple slices, and he barely glanced up at jack's words. "got shit to do. what are you gonna do?"

aiden shrugged, holding up a hand while he finished chewing. "can i hack into police records and find wrongly released criminals so i can kill them?" he joked once he'd finished.

jack rolled his eyes, relieved aiden hadn't questioned where he was going. "oh yeah, absolutely," he chuckled. "have fun with that, dude. seeya." the door clicked as he left and walked down the steps, putting up his umbrella to shield himself from the pouring rain.

he felt kind of bad doing this without telling aiden. truth was, he didn't want him to know about chase because he might think he was bad like that hero and magician. but even that… after leaving asda yesterday, jack had gone to the library and done some researching. the hero had been seen several times around the city, his costume constantly changing but always recognizable. he had become known as "jbm," which jack knew was short for "jackieboy man." how no one else knew what the jbm stood for, he didn't know, but what he did know was that this hero didn't seem evil. he had appeared to only do good things from what he had seen, from rescuing that girl at the beginning to saving a kid who was being hurt by his father. jack didn't understand why he'd hurt aiden like that. it didn't seem right.

he didn't want to say aiden was lying. he didn't.

but there was something more to the story that he was definitely missing.

he saw chase standing outside, a small yellow umbrella with a duck's face on it held over his head. seeing him again was strange enough - it was like seeing himself wearing a stranger's clothes - but that umbrella had to be the icing on this very weird cake. he tried to hold back a laugh as he walked up beside him. "hey, there."

chase jumped at his voice, then jumped again at his face. "christ on a bike, you scared me," he laughed, shaking his head. "i haven't gotten used to - you know." he waved his hand round his face, jack humming in agreement. "so, uh… where do you wanna go?"

jack hesitated. "you wanna go get some food? there's some places just over there, i don't mind where we go."

chase grinned. "hell yeah. you have any preferences? i'll eat anything, i don't mind."

"subway?"

"sounds like a plan."

they walked through the parking lot and crossed the street to the various restaurants across from the asda. they politely chatted the whole way there, ignoring the very obvious elephant in the room in favour of discussing chase's umbrella. "it's louise's, my daughter," he clarified with a chuckle. "i think i've lost my own one. i have gotten several strange looks, but hey, that's how it is sometimes." jack laughed, and chase held the door for him to go inside. they each ordered and sat down, preparing to finally talk.

"so," chase eventually said as they finished a casual conversation about chase's kids. "are we gonna talk about the whole… why we look identical thing?"

jack had been hoping to avoid talking about that for a while, mostly because he wasn't sure how to explain the truth without seeming insane. how do you tell someone you think you might have brought them to life? "uh, yeah. i guess. i mean… i don't really know."

"it's not even a funny "haha we look sort of similar" thing," chase said as he unwrapped his bacon and salad sandwich and took a bite. "it's like - we're literally identical. every last detail. down to the shape of, like, our eyes. and our voices are the same, just different accents." he swallowed and then puts on a very convincing irish accent. "i mean, i can do irish too."

"that is weird," jack murmured. he was starting to feel very light. "how - how did you come to be able to do such a good irish accent if you're american?"

"my family moved us to ireland when i was fifteen," he said, waving his hand in a circle. "i learned to impersonate an irish accent to fit in with my classmates, so they didn't make fun of me. dunno how it got so good." he laughed awkwardly, sipping his coke. "so we both have ties to ireland, too? damn, ok, this is getting… very weird. i think that we genuinely might be related."

jack bit into his own sandwich, at a loss for words. "uh, maybe," he said. had he really created a person with a whole backstory that he didn't even write? "yeah. yeah."

chase hesitated. "think we should do, like… a blood test or something?" he winced. "that sounded dumb. i mean, i - i told my wife about this whole thing last night and she didn't believe me, even when my kids backed me up. this is all so weird." he shook his head again and breathed out a laugh. "but, anyway! we can talk about that kinda stuff later. tell me a bit about you, i've talked about myself enough."

jack did so, avoiding all mentions of aiden and his powers, instead talking about his time in ireland and his youtube channel. surprisingly, chase told him he had a channel too. "it's called bro average," he said, picking at his sandwich and not noticing the shock on jack's face. "i do trickshot stuff, lots of athletic shit. it blew up sometime last year, i've got like two million subs. it's wild, dude, seriously!"

bro average… where had he heard those words? he knew them. he'd heard that name. fuck, but he couldn't remember where. and if it was true, this man had only been in existence for a few days. why could he remember a past, how powerful were jack's powers?

the lights flickered. chase barely noticed. jack did. he glanced up, suddenly desperately hoping it was just a coincidence.

"and you've got a gaming channel?" chase said, oblivious. "how many subs does that have? i haven't heard that name before."

"about four million," he said, face reddening as chase cheered in awe.

"holy shit! that's so cool, dude. i'll have to check it out, i'm surprised i haven't seen it." chase stirred his drink. "i think maybe we're just the same person from different lives, ha." he stilled very suddenly. "i'm joking, but also i'm really not."

the lights flickered again, much more forcibly this time. the woman preparing the sandwiches glanced up, confused.

"so… you wouldn't happen to know any other clones, would you?" chase joked, tucking a strand of hair back into his hat. "you don't seem as… surprised as you probably should be about this whole situation."

jack hesitated. "what would you say if i told you i did?"

chase raised his eyebrows and was about to say something else when he paused, looking behind him slowly. "hey, what's that… can you hear that weird buzzing noise?"

"i have to go to the bathroom," jack said immediately, standing up and nearly knocking over his drink. "be back in a sec."

he didn't even give chase time to respond. just stormed into the bathroom at the back of the restaurant and, after checking there was no one else in any of the stalls, stood in the middle of the room. "what the fuck, aiden?"

there was a loud screeching that immediately spiked jack's tinnitus, and he cried out, clamping his hands over his ears. the room sparked with colour and static, and aiden formed in front of jack, face blank.

"jesus shit, dude!" jack yelled. "what the fuck is wrong with you, are you following me?"

aiden tilted his head and crossed his arms. "you bought a whole new phone just to talk to him?" he said flatly. "and you thought i wouldn't notice? seriously? do you take me for a fucking idiot, jack mcloughlin?"

jack sighed. "i didn't -" he threw up his arms, at a loss. "aiden -"

"what were you afraid of, jack?" aiden said, very quietly. his body glitched, and his eyes melted into a solid black. "were you scared i'd be upset? scared i'd do something? scared i'd try to -" he disappeared and suddenly reformed directly in front of him, causing him to yelp and jump back. "- hurt him?"

"aiden, stop it!" jack cried disbelievingly. aiden stepped back, still glitching wildly, an amused smile on his face. "what the fuck's gotten into you?"

"you were keeping him secret." aiden deadpanned. "hiding from me. lying to me."

"because i knew you'd react like this!" jack despaired, and aiden's buzzing glitches quietened for just a second, his smirk slipping. "i knew you'd freak out and get all possessive, like you always do!"

there was no sound but the hum of static for a long moment.

"so that's how you see me, huh?" aiden eventually said. "just possessive."

jack shook his head rapidly. "aiden, fuck's sake, of course not. you're my friend!"

the smirk came back. "am i really?" the glitching suddenly picked up full force, and even the space around him began to bend around aiden. "am i? or am i just your fucking puppet, jack? here to jump when you say jump, just made to keep you from being sad and lonely?" his tone became mocking and childish at the end, and each word felt like a stab to jack's heart.

"aid-aiden, dude, of course not! what the fuck gave you that impression? i love you, you mean the goddamn world to me!"

the glitching suddenly stopped, leaving a deafening silence.

"i'm sure i do," aiden murmured, and disappeared.

jack just stared at the spot where he had been for a moment. then he splashed some water from the sinks on his face, feeling sick with dread and worry. he had never been good with confrontation, and everything aiden had said just felt… painful. the fact that he thought like that made his head spin. was he really that bad of a friend?

the word "puppet" kept echoing in his mind.

he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. he looked tired, bags under his head, hair mussed from the weather. he didn't bother trying to sort it, just left the bathroom and back into the main section of the restaurant.

chase was gone.

panic coursed through jack's body. he raced outside, swinging round the corner, only to see - his heart dropped. aiden, talking to chase as they walked quickly away from the subway.

"chase!" he called, and they both turned round, chase's eyes widening in horror as he realized. aiden broke out in a huge grin as chase jumped away from him, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"what the - what the fuck, what the fuck!" he stammered, stumbling back into a lamppost. "who - what - i don't -"

"oh, keep quiet if you've nothing good to say," aiden jeered, letting his eyes turn black. chase cried out in shock, and aiden laughed in amusement.

"aiden, get the fuck away from him," jack ordered, pushing aiden back. "this isn't a joke, aiden, stop. whatever you're mad about, don't take it out on chase."

"aw, chase!" aiden sang, rapping his knuckles on chase's head. he shrank back, terrified. "you have a name, how sweet! did you call yourself that, or did jack name you?"

"i - i - i don't know what you're talking about!" chase sobbed. his eyes flickered over to jack, who was dithering helplessly at the side, fruitlessly trying to pull aiden away. "please, leave me alone, i have a wife and kids -"

"a wife and kids!" aide crowed. he turned to jack, eyes comically wide. "you hear that, jack? he has a wife and kids!"

"aiden, stop it. come home, we can talk - i'm sorry i tried to hide this from you, ok? please, calm down, just -"

"can we talk about what the fuck is happening?" chase interrupted, looking like he was about to cry. "i don't - i don't understand, i didn't think there was more - clones, more clones, i don't get it!"

"ohhh, you didn't mention me, jack?" aiden said in an exaggerated, mocking tone, pouty lip and all. "your first creation, too?" he cackled. "why am i not surprised?"

jack covered his face, suddenly too overwhelmed to speak as chase continued panicking. "creation? jack, what - what the fuck are you on about? what have - what have you gotten me into?"

"ah. you haven't told him that either." anti turned to chase, who was trembling enormously now. "would you like me to tell you why you look so much like our jack here?"

despite it all, aiden jumped when jack put a hand on his arm. "please," he said quietly, biting his lip. "go home. or go… somewhere. or stay, if you're gonna stop being an asshole. just - stop this. please."

all the fight seemed to go out of aiden at once, and he practically deflated in front of jack's eyes. he glanced at chase, who was breathing very heavily and scrubbing at his face to try and hide the tears leaking from his eyes. he didn't say a word this time. just vanished into the air, buzzing as he disappeared.

jack and chase were left alone.

"chase," jack murmured. chase was trembling badly, shoulders shaking. "i'm sorry, i - i didn't mean - that was a lot, i'm sorry."

"what did he mean," chase said through his tears. "created?"

jack went silent.

"ok… uh," he started. a couple people walked by, and jack realized; how had no one noticed his and anti's fight? a thing to think about later, he supposed. "i… i have these… these weird abilities. aiden thinks that, maybe, it's like soul -"

"no," chase interrupted. he laughed, almost hysterically, stepping off the curb into the parking lot. "no, don't even try that shit. you're - you're insane, you're fucking insane!"

"chase, wait," jack pleaded. he cursed aiden in his mind. "please -"

chase took off running in the other direction, leaving jack standing by himself.

the worst part was, he couldn't blame him, really. he wished he too could run and never come back.

jack was alone all night.

and the next night.

and the night after that.

he spent the fourth night crying, out of despair, out of anger, out of sadness, out of fear. out of everything. he missed his friend so badly, so badly. but he'd ruined everything. it was all his fault. all his fucking fault.

yep, he was a terrible person.

aiden spent four nights away.

he spent those four nights sleeping in people's attics and such, stealing food when no one was looking and using public bathrooms in shops. he could just go home and listen to jack apologize tearfully and put all the blame on himself, which he thought would almost ne worth it - but really, he was too fucking tired. too fucking angry. he wanted to do nothing but sleep and hate himself and feel angry at everyone around him.

surprisingly, he decided to go back to the music store for his next lesson on friday. he was bored and lonely and, quite honestly, desperate for human contact. rhudy's face brightened when he saw him enter the store, and aiden hated the smile that tried to rise to his lips upon seeing him.

"septic!" rhudy cried, and without warning, threw his arms right around him. and fuck, if aiden didn't sob slightly, practically melting into the warmth. it felt fucking fantastic. he hated it. he wanted it to last forever.

"i'm sorry about the beach," rhudy mumbled into his ear. "i can see so much shit, but i didn't see - i didn't know -" he suddenly pulled away. "are you… ok?"

aiden didn't dare say a word in case he somehow burst into tears right then. rhudy took that as a sign to take his shoulder gently and pull him away from the crowd. "come round the back, you're ok, you're ok."

aiden was dimly aware that he didn't even have his guitar with him. he almost laughed at his idiocy.

"sit down. anti, are you ok? talk to me, man." rhudy opened the back room curtains, and aiden winced in the light. "you haven't been home in a while, have you?"

aiden was confused, before remembering - clairvoyance. he sighed. "no. had a fight with my - with my roommate." a shuddering breath. "i'm fine."

rhudy sat down across from him. his black hair curled round his face, stopping just above his shoulders. his brown eyes were filled with worry. "i'm sorry," he mumbled. "the other man i taught guitar to - rory - he's dead. murdered, they said. he was fucking ripped apart, they wouldn't have known it was him if it wasn't his home."

aiden forced a look of surprise onto his face. "oh, shit. rhudy, i'm sorry."

"don't be," he sighed. "it's not your fault."

aiden swallowed and looked down at the floor, nodding.

rhudy tapped his knees. "you've hurt yourself."

aiden snorted, self consciously wrapping his arms around himself. "jesus, you know a bit too much for your own good, don't you think?"

rhudy ignored him, instead gently taking one of aiden's hands and rolling up his sleeve. aiden's breath hitched at the contact, and he felt almost satisfied with how shocked rhudy looked when he saw what aiden had done. "fuck, anti, did you do this to yourself?"

not intentionally, at first. he'd just scraped his arm against the scratchy, uneven floor, then he'd liked the pain and done it again, and again. grounding himself. "why do you call me that?" aiden said, instead of answering his question.

they stared at each other in silence, rhudy still holding aiden's arm. "i don't know," rhudy eventually murmured, evidently not wanting to leave the previous topic be. "it just seemed like… your name. like it was connected to you. if - if you don't like it, i can call you something else?"

aiden considered for a moment. considered a lot of things. then he gently pulled his arm away from rhudy's and smiled up at him, an actual, genuine smile for the first time in about a week. something about that felt right. something about him felt right. suddenly, everything seemed to make sense.

"no," anti said. "i like it. i think i like it."

rhudy smiled back at him, and the world was right again.

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #antisepticeye #chase brody #arc zero: cruthú #rhudy o'donnell

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darkestwolfx · 5 years ago

Text

Breakdown - Re-Review #16

Sorry for the couple days of silence! So here is the next part of the series and then I’ll be throwing up some more of my March Prompt Series tonight too. I also just wanted to say a massive thank you for the support to this series! Thank you everyone who reads, reblogs and lets me know what you think! You all keep me going.

But for now let’s stick with this gem of an episode.

So today people, is actually Sunday August 15th 2060 - no, I really want you all to imagine this with me let’s forget about the C-virus for a moment (just a moment because this isn’t me saying anything to do down the situation, rather enjoy your next five minute read and then think about it if you wish to) because we’re obviously still standing in 40 years time or IR would serve no purpose! And we are presuming the brothers have planned a surprise party - oohhh... (did anyone else think it seemed a little mean to start with)! And they’ve even managed to end up with a real rescue (I bet the distraction plan otherwise would have involved Gordon and Alan in some way)! And they’ve even stretched so far as to getting him a cake - from Paris, France! So I want to know how Virgil didn’t manage to find said cake, because they had to have picked that up in advance considering the travel time really and to factor in that they couldn’t have accounted for a rescue popping up with such appropriate timing... okay, birthday party issues out of the way- let’s go on!

If you haven’t already sussed it out, this episode is really all about Virgil. Screensaver materials, right here everyone (just doing my pubic duty for the day by pointing that out).

So we start out with everyone ‘forgetting’ Virgil’s birthday and then a rescue being called in.

And so of course, Virgil responds and heads out there to help.

“Thunderbirds go were other tow trucks can’t.”

“It will be a quick one. You’ll be there and back before lunch.”

“It’s beautiful! It looks like a... huge frosted birthday cake.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

And rescues this guy - hooray!

Who said ‘Breakdown’ 6 times in the opening scene (and it’s said about 17 times during the episode in total - so no wonder it’s the episode title).

“We’ll soon have you toasty as a teacake. Hmm... cake.”

And then he goes home, has a lovely birthday party and some great cake! For anyone who doesn’t know me that well and has yet to realise, I Love cake. My best friend now has her own business and that is great, but at the same time, makes me eat loads of cake!

Anyhow, Virgil had a lovely birthday party, all was well, end of review! See you tomorrow :)

Yeah, not what happened (though what we might have liked to happen), as well all know. A birthday party isn’t a rescue and clearly the writers thought we wouldn’t want to watch that - I would have, thank you very much, but hey - so on we go with the rescue, part 2.

So because Virgil is really good at thinking, he realises there is a tunnel and goes down there! I mean, I think this is another one of these ‘red button’ moments... just because you can see one, doesn’t mean you have to press it. Likewise, just because there’s a tunnel...

But it’s his birthday so I won’t criticise!

“Did someone call a tow truck?”

I think Thunderbird Two is a little more sophisticated than that but that was Virgil’s choice in words.

“Perhaps we should change our name to International Breakdown?”

“International Breakdown, we have a situation. Hmm, doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.”

It was a good call to go down there though because he meets Dr Peck (whose also in red - there’s so many red uniforms in this episode). First time I watched this episode, I was like: ‘You’re an idiot man’.

I still feel a little like that, but I really do understand where he was coming from. It was a pretty valid cause to be undertaking something like this, unlike some we know *cough*Lemaire*cough*Fischler*cough*.

“It’s incredibly inconvenient!”

He sounds a bit like them though, but better cause, still I remind myself.

I still think Virgil’s heavy lifting equipment would have caused the ice to crack further after he nearly fell... but that’s not my are of expertise.

“Thunderbird Five, does the big book of saving people say anything about saving someone who doesn’t actually want to be rescued?”

“Does he seem like he’s lost his mind or acting against his will?”

“He’s weird and rude and kinda frustrating.”

“I’m due a little birthday luck.”

That you were Virgil, and that was such a close call. Any later and Thunderbird Two would have fallen down with the ice.

Rescue count: 22

“He’s on his way back.”

“Hooray!”

And then hours still pass before Virgil comes back.

And Doctor Peck (standing up now despite his injury) kindly rings Virgil which was a really nice touch and ends up being the only person to actually wish him happy birthday, which is both yay and aww and I still don’t know which one I’m leaning towards it being for me.

But do you mind ringing him back Virge and asking if he can;

1. jump 40 years into the future

2. Jump out of a fictional tv show and become real

3. Find us a cure?

Because he owes you right?

I’ve had to resort to my birthday collage from my original review, because 5 years later and it is still impossible to find good photos of these scenes. The balloons just gradually giving up over the course of the episode made me chuckle.

Also - anyone else notice the party hats? This is kinda a small image, but go back and watch it if you want to see properly, although you can sorta see it in the image below;

Basically, Scott’s is blue and red, Gordon’s is yellow, Kayo’s is black, Alan’s is red - matching the colours of their Thunderbirds (or in Scott’s case, the ones he pilots/co-pilots). Grandma’s is purple - matching what she wears, and Brains I didn’t quite get to. I wonder if Virgil’s would have been green and John’s orange...

So... on like a final note, I’d also kinda like to have known what was in the presents....

I mean, let’s face it, it probably couldn’t have been worse than Alan’s 21st birthday present in TOS ‘Attack of the Alligators’.

Yeah... that present was no a success...

See alligators (it’s a pygmy alligator pictured), I don’t mind so much, but crocodiles creep me out. I’ve studied them (because Orinoco crocodiles are critically endangered) and I’ve seen a Black Caiman (just think large, like really large for both - so Orinoco’s are the only crocodiles bigger than BC’s in the neotropics).

As a huge dolphin/whale lover, I was heartbroken to see a dead Amazon River Dolphin (also endangered) from the continued impact of BC crocodile’s teeth, and I stayed with a family out there whose son had a run in with one and was lucky to escape with his arm after being pulled under by one. The scar was horrific! If you want any context, these things have the bite force to shatter a turtle shell so... Anyhow enough that relates to my work - if anyone really does want to hear any more about anything above, just let me know and I will post about it.

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cilldaracailin · 5 years ago

Text

A Kind Of Magic

Here is the next part. Thanks for all the Tumblr love :)

“There is nothing like a shared interest to draw people together.”

They cleared away all the breakfast dishes and tidied the kitchen, Taron washing and Robyn drying as before. They also took the time to dress each other’s stitches.

“Did Doctor Keane give you any tablets like I got some?” Asked Taron as he tapped the dressing to Robyn’s shoulder.

“Yeah she did. My prescription finished on Thursday morning. I just have to go and get these stitches out next week.”

“Your shoulder still looks bruised though. Isn’t it still sore?”

“If I lay on it with direct pressure yes but I can move about and lift and stretch.” She felt Taron run his finger down the tape to keep it secure and stuck on the dressing. “Thanks Taron.”

“Anytime.” He said as he pulled the strap of her top back up.

She got to her feet and kicked her shoes off. “Garden.” She said simply and skipped out into the deck and onto the grass before turning back. “Suncream.” She said as she walked past Taron who had been following her but stopped as she walked back into the apartment and into her closet in the bedroom before she walked out again. “Case.” She said but turned and walked back into the bedroom. “Purse.”

Taron couldn’t help the fully belly laugh that he made as he watched Robyn walk around her apartment from one room to another just randomly saying words and it felt so good, but at the same time quite sore and unpleasant as his side hurt to laugh like that.

“Key.” She returned holding a tiny key in her hand and walked to the laundry room. She opened the door, disappeared for a second before coming back lifting a very heavy looking case.

“Whoa, that’s heavy Robyn!” He went to give her some help but with ease, Robyn lifted the case up higher and onto the island. “You are a little freakishly strong.” He said as he watched her put the small key in the lock and open it.

“Lifting three and four years old builds some serious muscle. I don’t know if this is something you want to see inside of. It will completely change your opinion of me.”

“Why?” Asked Taron intrigued.

“Well this is my case from Florida that I had great intentions of coming home to pack properly after I went to the 7/11 to get my turtles, which I never actually got by the way. Anyway, after I left you in the hospital…” Robyn gave him a sad smile. “I had about an hour to pack up the rest of my things before I needed to leave for the airport so I literally just threw everything in.”

Taron moved a bit closer to her. Although he was hurt when he found out she had left him so suddenly, he hadn’t really thought about how Robyn had felt as she packed up to leave so quickly to return home. As much as he was upset with her departure it must have been just as horrible if not worse for Robyn.

“I just want the suncream but yeah. It’s in here somewhere, in this mess.” Robyn heaved her case open. “Left or right?”

“You haven’t unpacked this yet?” Asked Taron as she unzipped the left side.

“Erm no. Haven’t really had the motivation to do it.” She walked away and back into the laundry room and carried out a white wicker laundry basket. “Might as well sort the washing out too. You really don’t have to watch this Taron. Not going to be very interesting at all. Ya know girly delicates and dirty clothes.”

Taron pulled a stool over and sat on it, feeling the need to sit rather than stand, his body feeling tender and rough. “We have already crossed barriers that others haven’t. I think we might be past the dirty laundry stage.”

“Okie dokie.” Replied Robyn as she started pulling clothes out and throwing the majority of them into the laundry basket. Pants, t-shirts, bras, shorts and bikinis as well as many pairs of socks were put in along with some jeans. Robyn stopped when her hands pulled out the blue polo shirt she has been wearing the in the 7/11. It was still frayed at the bottom from where she had cut it to use the material as a bandage for Taron’s arm, the back-left shoulder covered in her blood and it was littered with spots of Taron’s blood too. She turned to look at him before moving over to the bin beside her kitchen door. “Well I don’t need that any more.” She then pulled out the jeans she was wearing and threw them into the bin too. “Or those.” The white pair of converse she was wearing were next but she dropped them in the laundry basket for a wash. She wasn’t quite willing to part with an expensive pair of shoes that cost her more than half a day’s wages.

“I am pretty sure my ripped white t-shirt is in a bin too. Couldn’t really salvage it when someone decided to rip it in half.” Taron tried to lift the spiralling mood and was glad to see that Robyn had thrown the clothing out that she was wearing in the 7/11 because he had done the exact same thing once he was given back his belongings that he came in with in the hospital. It was a reminder he didn’t want and it seemed Robyn was thinking the same.

“I was updating your boring white t-shirt look. It needed some rips.” She welcomed how Taron quickly made a little joke about the clothes they had been wearing when everything went to shit in the 7/11 and she returned to her case, making quick work of pulling out more dirty clothes and finally at the bottom of the left side of the case she found the bag of suncream she was looking for. “Ah-ha!” She said proudly as she pulled the canvas bag out. She left the suncream on the island and closed her case over, zipping it fully. She lifted it off the island and kicking her laundry basket across the floor she put both in the laundry room to the side, closing the door behind her.

“Robyn!”

“What?” She asked as she came back to stand beside Taron, opening the bag of suncream.

“You are seriously going to leave that in there like that?”

“Yeah, I will fix it later. I really am not in the mood for clearing out the rest of it and sorting the washing? Ugh not happening right now.” She enjoyed the disapproving look he gave her. “I told you your opinion of me was going to change. I only wanted the suncream for us.” She turned the bag upside down, emptying it all out onto the island. “Ok factor fifty for you and I shall take this ten.”

“Ten? Absolutely not. I saw your sunburn in the 7/11, I even rubbed the aftersun in. Factor fifty for you too.” Taron took the ten away leaving the bottle of fifty.

Robyn grinned. “That was because I didn’t use any suncream. I will be ok with ten and you can take the fifty. I already have a very good base. I am normally not this colour. I just tan easily and took full advantage of my weekends on the beach.”

Taron got off the stool. “Let’s compromise with a twenty-five then.”

“Twenty-five for you and fifteen for me? Ten for me? Or I could go straight for this factor four tanning oil.” Robyn picked up the brown bottle.

Taron grabbed the bottle from her. “No tanning oil. Seriously? Tanning oil?”

“I love a good beach holiday and I like a tan. Tanning oil helps, near the end of the holiday. Not at the start.”

Taron pulled two bottles towards him. “Twenty-five for me and fifteen for you.”

With the suncream factors agreed on and rubbed in, Taron making sure he got Robyn’s shoulders, both Robyn and Taron took to the garden and a sun lounger each, Taron on his back, a soft pillow under his head, Robyn sitting up reading a book. His right side was still giving him hell after laying on it all night and lying on his back was the most comfortable position for him. Robyn had asked him to tie the strings of her top behind her back after he had finished rubbing her suncream in. ‘Tan lines’ she had simply said and he obliged tucking them in the back of her top. As the time passed on, his had opened the remainder of the buttons on his shirt and the heat of the sun felt just perfect on his shattered body.

Robyn had given him free reign over the music and he would ask Alexa to change the song or artist but he had settled on Elton John who was playing through the speakers which Robyn had connected to her Alexa so the music could be heard inside and out. It was exactly what he was sure Doctor Hart would have been expecting of him. Relaxing, listening to music and it was pure heaven. He sang along every now and again, having to stop when he gave it too much gusto, his whole body protesting but he definitely enjoyed it when he heard Robyn joining in at times too.

She had thrown back the doors to her bedroom too, turning off the air con and letting the late summer fresh air filter the whole way through her apartment. She took a glance every now again to Taron as he lay with one leg bent, his arms down by his side, his whole pose looking stress-free, his eyes closed, his breathing easy. His open shirt fluttered in the breeze and the bruising on his ribs and side still looked very sore, even a week after he had been hurt. Seeing how much slower Taron moved that morning, his hands moving to his side as he turned too quickly or bent the wrong way, Robyn knew he was trying to hide how much discomfort he was still in despite the strength of his pain killers. In saying that, the picture of Taron lounging easily in the sun was another image she was adding to her album of him in her mind. It was her perfect idea of a very lazy Saturday.

For three hours they lay in silence, the music enough for both, Taron dozing in and out of sleep. He wanted to pocket this feeling of surreal tranquillity and pull it out whenever he felt stressed or his anxiety start to rise. Every now and again he would look to Robyn and she looked just as peaceful as he felt. He watched her mouth the words along to whatever song was on as she flipped through the pages of her book. He couldn’t explain how much he enjoyed her company and he took delight in the fact that there was no pressure for them to talk or make conversation and it was a wonderful easy atmosphere surrounding them. He felt like she knew what he needed before he even needed it and he needed this rest. The angst and worry that had plagued him were slowly leaving his body as the sunlight and warmth crept in. As much as he loved his family, he knew he would never get respite like this at home. His mam would be almost fussing over him, being overly concerned which he loved about his mam but it was the not the attention he needed right now. He knew Robyn was keeping a very close watchful eye over him too, just doing it in her own stealthy way, letting him just rest in the silence, but ready to move to him if she needed.

Their quiet was interrupted by a ringing phone, Taron turning his head as he recognised his ring tone. He went to move, a grimace filling face, a groan leaving his lips and he had stop getting up as his head felt light and his delicate chest twinged.

“I got it.” Said Robyn as she jumped to her feet. “You stay.” She saw how Taron’s whole body froze as he experienced a serious wave of pain as he moved off the low lounger. It just added to number of times she had watched him cringe so far that day and she wasn’t liking it.

She walked into the bedroom from the garden and picked up his phone from the bedside locker where he had left it and brought it back out to him. Taron had sat up very gingerly and moved so his legs were either side of the seat and she handed him the phone, watching as his eyes lit up as he read the name on the screen. Robyn hadn’t looked but knew it must have been somebody special for the call to get such a reaction.

“Elton, hey!” Robyn’s head turned twice as Taron answered the phone. “My mam yeah? Ahh man thanks Elton. No, I am ok. I’m good. I’m really good. I’m at a friend’s house. Yes, her name is Robyn and what else has my mam told you?” Taron looked to Robyn as he spoke on the phone and patted the sun lounger beside him for her to sit down and she did so copying the way he was sitting. She listened to the one ended conversation as Taron spoke to who she could only presume was Elton John. She had never seen Taron’s face light up so much and his eyes shone as he laughed and joked and spoke to his good friend, but she did notice how a frown tinged his features every now and again, his hand going to his side or his head. “I haven’t been doing much singing, no. I have to wait until my ribs heal up but Robyn and I are going to have an Elton/Freddie sing off.” Taron’s smile spread wide. “I haven’t heard her sing a lot but I know she can sing. I will represent, don’t you worry though with the looks I am getting now, I have a feeling I should be a little worried.” Robyn smirked and nodded. The conversation lasted two or three more minutes, Taron assuring his friend that he was ok and thanking him very much for the phone call. Taron said his goodbyes, wished Elton’s family well and ended the call, casually placing the phone down on the lounger between himself and Robyn.

“So, Elton John regularly calls you on a Saturday morning?” Asked Robyn.

“Yeah.” Shrugged Taron with a breezy tone but as he looked to Robyn who was raising an eyebrow at him, he had to laugh. “My mam phoned him to tell him what had happened and let him know I was ok. He is holding a charity action in a few weeks time and just wanted to make sure that I would be able to attend it after what happened. We are supposed to be singing together but he told me I was only to do so if I could.”

“Elton John was just calling you.”

“Robyn.” Grinned Taron, watching her eyes light up.

“Let me freak out for a little bit ok? It’s Elton John!”

Taron chuckled but his laughter was disrupted his phone ringing again. “Let’s play guess the celebrity caller.” Robyn grinned as he picked up his phone.

“Ahh this is a celebrity we both know.”

Robyn looked at him puzzled until he answered the call. “Hey Richard!”

“Richard!” Echoed Robyn.

“Let me put you on speaker mate. Robyn is here too.”

“Hello my fake co-star girlfriend.” Laughed Richard.

“Hello my fake boyfriend.”

“It is good to hear your voice Robyn.”

“You too Richard.”

“Taron, I have literally been calling you for the last two days.”

“Aww sorry mate. I have been sleeping for the last two days. I have made one phone call and that was to my mam.”

“So, you made to Robyn’s then?” Asked Richard, so glad to hear his friend’s voice. He had been worried when he had been getting through to Taron’s voice mail for the last two days.

“Yeah I did.”

“And she let you in? Robyn, I thought you would know better than to let strange men into your house!”

Robyn laughed. “You would think I would but I guess not and I don’t know if I count you two as complete strangers. I mean we did spend a whole night together.”

Another round of laughter filled the air.

“Taron how are you mate?”

“Yeah I am good Richard. Getting there and you? How are you?”

“Make up has had to cover the bruises but I am good too, Straight back into it. It’s been a good distraction.”

“Richard, can I just say something before, we have a catch up?” Robyn’s tone of voice turned serious.

“Sure Robyn.”

“I am so sorry for leaving you in the hospital Richard and for the letter I wrote and leaving all the responsibility of dealing with the fall out of what happened in the 7/11 with you because it was something that should not have been left to you to deal you. You were affected as much as Taron and I by what had happened and we all needed to talk about it but I got scared and ran away, which is a normal Robyn reaction. I am trying to be better. Taron has helped a lot and is teaching me that its ok to let people in but I just cannot apologise enough for what I did. I am really really sorry.”

As she spoke Taron reached over and took her hand.

“I am only going to say it once, but you do not need to apologise to me.” Said Richard over the phone his voice sterner than Robyn’s. “I am firm believer in things happen for a reason and this, whatever happened between us, happened for a reason. I won’t lie, when I found the letter, it took a while for me to process it and I don’t think I was the best person to speak to Tina but I imagine that by now all that air has been cleared and Taron is going to be ok, me too and you as well Robyn. It was you who held us all together in the 7/11 and whatever happened after that, might have been done in haste and because you were scared and had your own responsibilities but it’s done. You two have probably had that conversation by now so let’s leave it there. We know we will always be bonded by what happened and know we can turn to each other when we need to and that is what is most important.”

“Jesus did you two take lecture lessons after we met? You are both seriously knocking it out of the park with these speeches.” Robyn might have answered Richard’s touching words with her usual defensive sarcasm but she could feel the burden of guilt and worry she had been carrying about leaving Richard leave as he spoke and she wished he was there so she could give him a very grateful squishy hug.

“So, we are all forgiven and know that we can talk to each other when we need to?” There were a firm yes from Taron and Robyn. “Great. So, what have you two been up too?”

A long light-hearted conversation followed as the three caught up with each other, telling stories of their last three days, Richard very jealous of the baking Taron had been tasting as well as their chilled-out time in the garden. Richard was up to his eye in script changes and re-shoots. It was relaxed and carefree chat, jokes and giggles being thrown about and when the phone call ended, the three had made a promise to meet up when their individual schedules allowed it.

“So, can I expect any more phone calls from your friends?” Asked Robyn. “Maybe Hugh might give us a call, sing us a song…” She grinned.

“I can call him if you want.” Said Taron as he went to look for his number in his phone but Robyn pulled his phone from his hands.

“I was messing, God no.”

“Seriously, though, I can do that.”

“I know you can but you won’t. I am going to put this phone back now.” Robyn got up from the lounger, walked back to the bedroom and put the phone on the locker beside the bed.

“You’re a Hugh fan?” Asked Taron as she walked back.

“Have been since is Oklahoma days. He’s an amazing performer.”

“Did he come to Ireland on his tour?”

Robyn pulled her lounger closer to Taron’s so they could lay comfortably back down in their own space but closer than they had been before. “Yeah, he did and I missed out on a ticket at first. The two nights sold out so fast but two days before the concert Claire sent me a link saying more tickets had been released and I bought one. Right in front of the small stage and it was the best one hundred euros I have ever spent.”

Taron enjoyed the smile on her face. “Right so I know you like Hugh Jackman and that you like to bake, that you don’t really sleep and you work with children. I don’t know much else. I think it’s time for twenty questions.”

“Only if I get to ask twenty in return.” Taron rose an eyebrow towards her. “Just because I like your work and enjoy your movies doesn’t mean I spend my days googling you. I honestly don’t know a lot about you. It’s only fair.”

“Ok then. First question. When is your birthday?” Asked Taron.

“Twenty-second May, eighty-eight.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? May twenty-second?”

“Nope.”

“The day Rocketman was released?”

“Yep. I even went to see Rocketman on my birthday, brought my mam with me.”

“It’s destiny Robyn. Definitely destiny.”

She laughed. “Ok well when is your birthday and I can see if I have any connection to it at all.”

“November tenth, eight-nine.”

“Yeah no. Nothing. I have nothing. Guess it’s not meant to be!”

Taron reached over to swot at Robyn but she dodged him, giggling. “Eight-eight?” He questioned. “You are older than me.”

“Older and wiser.” She replied laughing as he went to playfully slap her arm again. “Only by six months.”

“Six months.” He repeated.

“My turn.”

Questions were fired back and forth and while Taron learnt that Robyn hated scary movies, was an only child, could speak Irish and had two degrees, Robyn learnt that Taron would eat anything put in front of him, adored his little sisters, could speak conversational Welsh and had his own degree.

“Two degrees and two diplomas?” He asked.

“I have been studying since I was eighteen. Couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do after college the first time and because what I wanted to do is so bloody specialised I kind of fell into childcare. I literally finished my second degree last year and I am done.”

Taron admired her pure determination to get back up after been knocked down when she applied for the same masters twice and failed to get it both times.

“It wasn’t nice being told we love your experience but your grades don’t encourage us to take you on. I am not an exam person. The pressure of having your entire year graded on a three-hour exam does not suit everyone. My college grades never reflected what I could do. I have always wanted to work with dolphins since I was a little kid and that is heart breaking to hear, that your marks were not good enough. The dolphin therapy diploma for me was giving all those who said I couldn’t do it, or that it didn’t exist, the finger but like I said, the field is so specialised it is hard to get into it. I kind of went back to work with the kids with my tail between my legs after that but then the promotion happened and I felt like I was doing something right and I realised that I was good at what I do, which spurred me to go and get the childcare degree. Worked my arse off, got my one one and once again shoved in the faces of those who said I couldn’t.”

“I love that take no bullshit and determined attitude you have except when you were standing up to those maniacs with guns but I know it is hard to get back when you have been told you are not good enough, or you won’t make it. It’s not easy to keep going after hearing that.” Taron shared some his own experience of auditions that didn’t go the way he wanted.

They moved onto hobbies and interests both talking their experiences of being in choirs since they were kids, both having sang in church and school choirs.

“Ok favourite skill you have learnt from your work.” Asked Robyn.

“Even though I didn’t get to do it on set, learning to shoot three arrows for Robin Hood was a pretty amazing experience.”

“I was in an archery club in college, the first time I went to college.”

“I am telling you Robyn, destiny! But seriously, archery?”

“Yeah seriously. I can’t shoot three arrows but it was good fun. Good responsible fun.” She added. “I shoot with my left hand though.”

“Left hand?”

“Yeah I know. I am one of those people who can use both hands for doing things!” She laughed. “No, my mam is left-handed and I just find things easier with my left and shooting arrows was one of those things. We met twice a week and it was a good laugh. Went to a few competitions too. Now I was never competition material but it was a great group of friends and we had a good time together.”

Taron smiled. “Maybe we need a shoot off as well as a sing off.”

“I haven’t shot a bow in years. Actually, the last time I did was when I was on holidays a couple of years ago and I hit the centre of the target first time. Complete fluke but it made those people watching stop and stare for a minute. I think we will stick to a sing off.”

“I am going to ask you the same question. A skill you have learnt during your years of working with children apart from reverse phycology”

“One of the girls I worked with, who has now left, well she and I could change thirteen nappies in ten minutes.” It was not the answer Taron was expecting and it made him laugh so hard for a good minute before he managed to somewhat control himself. “I am also a master of paper plate animals.” Robyn added with a very serious face which she could only for long as Taron giggled more, her own face changing with laughter. “And am a very good referee and negotiator.”

“Referee?” Asked Taron, still chuckling.

“Hell yes. You have one red truck and two children want the red truck; you learn to mediate quickly. Three-year olds are fierce headstrong little things.”

The changed the topic to allergies, hospital visits and favourite place in the world.

“Aber for me, Aberystwyth in Wales is my favourite place in the whole world. I am not allergic to anything and my latest hospital visit has been my most exciting.”

“Here, my home is my favourite place and I wouldn’t call it an allergy as such but mosquitos love me but I don’t love them and I have no appendix or tonsils.”

“Mosquitos?”

“Ugh I get eaten alive and some of the bites swell. I am sure I have a picture of one on my arm that looked like a swan. I have lots of littles scars on my hands and arms from them too.”

“Lovely.”

“Not so much but yeah.”

“And I think I understand your liquid panadol comment now. You have been in hospital twice?”

“My appendix was horrible. I sat college exams with a rumbling appendix not knowing what it was, sat in A&E for a long time before I was admitted and then in surgery, they realised my appendix had burst.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah key hold surgery turned into proper surgery and an eight day stay in hospital. It wasn’t nice, let me tell you. It was pretty frightening. I reacted to whatever medicine they were giving me and I started to cough up blood.”

“Jesus Robyn.”

“Yeah, like I said it was frightening, I was ok though, just had to take it easy at home after and I have four scars instead of one. My tonsils were nowhere near as complicated. When I started working in the creche, I was ill every six weeks or so with my tonsils so after six months my doctor referred me to a specialist and three weeks later no more tonsils. I have health insurance, so it happened quickly and touch wood…” Robyn tapped her head. “I have been sore throat free since. I have a fabulous immune system though. Working with children, you become immune to almost everything.”

“I don’t think I want another hospital experience like the one I had or any like yours either but I could do with a stronger immune system at times, especially on set. It can take quite a toll on me after a few weeks and I just get run down and ill. Makes my days harder. I just want to sleep but have to be up at five am to get to set.”

“I can only imagine. Your work comes with such expectations and you to be ‘on’ all the time. At least I can hide in the office if I need too.”

“I might come and hide in your office, or actually, maybe I will just hide out here in your garden instead.”

“Even when it’s raining?”

“Even when it’s raining. I don’t mind the rain.”

“My garden is not as much fun when it rains.”

“Well then I can just lay on your couch.”

“I think it might be time for me to change my locks.” Laughed Robyn.

“Don’t you dare.”

Another easy quiet fell between the two, Robyn lay back on her lounger, while Taron did the same on his, the afternoon sun still glorious on his skin. He enjoyed getting to know Robyn and he secretly loved the fact that she honestly knew nothing about him. It was refreshing and he saw that she genuinely wanted to get to know him and willingly shared as much information with him as he shared with her. She was naturally funny and he loved how easily she made him laugh. It was another feeling he was going to bottle up and keep for when he needed a pick me up.

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfic #Love #Friendship #Humour #Loyalty #Getting to know each other #Twenty Questions

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echoes-of-realities · 6 years ago

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be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) - 25/25

* * *

[From the Start] // [Fanfiction] // [ao3]

[Previous Chapter]

Chapter Summary: Santana wakes up happier than she’s ever been; Brittany asks a very important question and learns how to make cinnamon buns in the process.

Notes: I?? Made?? It?? All the way?? Omg I’m exhausted but also !!!!! lmao

In a lot of ways this was the hardest chapter to write, because trying to craft an ending that was satisfying to me was a Long process but I eventually got there. This was the first time I ever did anything like this and I’m actually pretty proud of myself for doing it! Thank you to everyone who commented or reviewed or tagged because they all mean the world to me!! I didn’t have time to respond to them all because December and end of term is always Insane for me, but I definitely read all of them and appreciated them all so much!!

So Merry Christmas and thanks for reading!!!

Chapter 25: how have we missed out on all of these years?

///

I wrote a note. Saying that when two people fall in love, they do so at the same speed. There’s no need to factor in the physics. Explanations are something we can make no use of. Einstein once wrote, “Gravity will not be held responsible for people falling in love.” I wrote a note saying “If I fall in love with you, no one will ever be able to explain it, and I think that’s beautiful.” — “Tomatoes” by Shane Koyczan

///

Santana wakes up slowly, warm and comfortable with a beam of sunlight inches from her nose, turning blonde hair to gold. They haven’t moved much from last night, Brittany still sprawled on her back with both arms wrapped loosely but securely around Santana, and Santana nuzzled into the space between Brittany’s neck and shoulder, one arm curled beneath Brittany’s back and more than a little numb and her other thrown over Brittany’s waist, their legs hopelessly tangled under the blankets.

She has no clue what time it is other than that fact that it’s morning, the sunlight shining in through the cracks in the blinds and slanting across the bedding, brightening the pale yellow of Brittany’s sheets. Santana shifts around a little, pulling herself up onto the pillow, her skin buzzing where it presses to Brittany’s, until she can lay her head beside Brittany; she’s bed-warm and smiling a little in her sleep, her lips parted and blushed pink. Santana props herself up on her elbow—ignoring the faint sensation of pins and needles as her arm wakes up—and lifts her other hand to trail her fingers over Brittany’s face with a featherlight touch, barely enough to cause Brittany to even stir.

She draws constellations with the spattering of faint freckles on Brittany’s nose and tucked in the corners of her eyes, she admires how the amber-coloured roots of Brittany’s lashes turn almost honey in the sunbeam stretching across her face, she carefully brushes tangled blonde hair back behind Brittany’s ears and ghosts her fingers along the shell them, she runs her thumb over the peak of Brittany’s pale cheek just to watch her brows furrow; and then, when she can’t resist anymore, she leans down to kiss away the furrow. She trails butterfly kisses down the length of a nose, across a cheek, and then down the line of a jaw. She presses a kiss to that tiny freckle tucked at the corner of her mouth, the one that always hides in Brittany’s smiles during the day, before she shifts a little to the side to press her lips fully to Brittany’s.

Brittany doesn’t move for a moment, but she starts to stir as Santana’s lips move against hers, humming into the kiss until it buzzes against Santana’s lips. Fingers start to scratch lazily at the sensitive skin of Santana’s waist and she shivers as Brittany’s electric touch wracks her body.

She only pulls away when she realizes that she should probably breathe soon, and Brittany whines at the loss of contact. Santana giggles and presses a close-mouthed kiss to her lips to pacify her, lingering a little when Brittany sighs against her.

“Merry Christmas,” Santana whispers as she pulls back, propped up on her elbows so she can cup Brittany’s face in her palms, running her thumbs along Brittany’s cheeks and marvelling at how soft and smooth her skin is, delighting in how her eyelashes flutter at the sensation.

“Mur’ Chris’ma,” Brittany mumbles, blindly tilting her chin up and searching for Santana’s lips again, not even bothering to crack her eyes open. Santana giggles and watches Brittany search for long moments before finally leaning down and kissing her pout away; Brittany is about as much as a morning person as Santana herself is, but Santana’s constant grumpiness before her morning coffee dissipated as soon as she felt Brittany’s heartbeat against her cheek, steady puffs of breath tickling the top of her head, bare skin warm and soft against her own.

Santana leans her forehead against Brittany’s and smiles softly, waiting until her eyes flutter open, just soaking in the feeling of falling in love with Brittany all over again as blue eyes meet hers, sleepy and warm, the tiniest flecks of gold surrounding her pupils, cobalt streaking through cerulean like forks of lightning.

Santana’s never seen anything more beautiful in her life, and she can do little more than tilt her chin down to rain kisses on thin pink lips that curl up into a wide smile under her ministrations.

Santana sighs and nuzzles her nose into Brittany’s, just breathing her in for long moments; the air around them smells of honeysuckle and vanilla and citrus and jasmine and something sharp and heady and warm. Brittany’s lips purse to press a kiss against her cheek and Santana smiles, sliding her arms under Brittany until she can wrap even more tightly around her and sink into her embrace.

“I love you,” Brittany breathes against her cheek, and Santana’s heart thuds heavily as she cuddles closer, nuzzling her nose against Brittany’s and sighing into her mouth as their lips find each other.

Brittany kisses her, long and deep and open, not even giving her a chance to respond. Santana just sinks into the feeling, one of Brittany’s hands drawing slow patterns across her back and the other one cupping her jaw and guiding Santana’s mouth against hers until every thought in Santana’s mind has disappeared and she falls into Brittany.

Brittany keeps making these airy little sighs against Santana’s lips and her spine melts at the sound until she’s bonelessly draped over Brittany, molding their bodies together. Lips trail from her mouth across her chin and up her cheek to scatter butterfly pecks across her nose to her other cheek. “I love you too,” Santana finally manages to gasp in answer, now that Brittany’s stopped her welcome assault on her lips and she can string two thoughts together again.

Brittany pulls back a little and stares, wide-eyed and hopeful, up at Santana. “Really?” she asks breathlessly.

Santana giggles and shakes her head, kissing Brittany until she can’t breathe any more, drawing back to press lingering kisses along Brittany’s jaw instead until she locates her ear. “I love you,” she whispers before planting a sucking kiss behind Brittany’s earlobe, just to feel her shiver, her hands stuttering as they trail along Santana’s back.

Brittany sucks in an unsteady breath as Santana trails her lips down Brittany’s neck and across to her collarbone, dipping her tongue into the hollow and moving onto the other one, repeating her motions back up Brittany’s neck until she finds her other ear. “I love you,” she whispers again, trailing her kisses back to Brittany’s mouth.

Brittany’s breathing is unsteady and her hands tremble a little as they reach up to keep Santana’s lips pressed against hers until Santana’s own breathing come in little pants and she’s shivering in Brittany’s arms.

“I love you too,” Brittany breathes, and as good as it felt to say it, it feels even better to hear it.

She feels like everything good in the world is sprawled on the bed beneath her, like everything she’s ever wanted is right at her fingertips, and she doesn’t want to ever lose it, so she just kisses her love into Brittany’s mouth, knowing that Brittany’s doing the exact same thing.

Brittany hums against her lips and smiles into the kiss, her hands roaming Santana’s back with increasing intent and decreasing innocence, and they don’t bother with the outside world for a long time.

///

They eventually crawl out of bed and into some shirts Brittany finds, hers an old button up she’s repurposed as a sleep shirt for years and Santana in festively red plaid. They find clean underwear, Brittany from her dresser and Santana from her overnight bag, and when Santana sees that Brittany’s panties are bright red with little nutcrackers all over them she has no option but to push her up against the dresser and kiss her hard.

Eventually they make it to the bathroom to brush their teeth side by side, both of them smiling so wide at each other in the mirror that foam drips to their chin, and then they’re giggling too hard to do anything more than clumsily wipe toothpaste from the other’s chin.

They wander into the kitchen and Santana rifles through cupboards until she finds mugs for coffee while Brittany fiddles around with the bluetooth on her phone and the speaker on the kitchen island until whatever Spotify Christmas playlist that’s first in the results is crooning through the apartment.

Santana yawns as she waits for the coffee to finish, smiling and sinking back into Brittany’s embrace as two arms wrap around her waist and a pair of soft lips find the apple of her cheek, lingering there for a long moment while Santana quickly switches the mugs and starts the next coffee.

“So,” Brittany drawls once the next coffee is brewing, and Santana can tell she has a question on the tip of her tongue, so she just waits patiently and brings her hands to tangle with Brittany’s against her stomach. “I was wondering something.”

Santana just hums in acknowledgement, and in the silence she can feel Brittany’s heart pound quick and heavy against her back.

“I love you,” Brittany starts, and Santana doesn’t even bother to try and hide the wide grin that curls her lips at the words, and she earns a kiss directly on her right dimple for her trouble, “And you love me, so— Are we— You know?”

Santana thinks she might know what Brittany’s asking but she can’t help to smile and tease her a little bit. “In love with each other? Yep, that just about sums it up.”

“No,” Brittany whines, knowing she’s being teased but not really upset about it, which Santana knows because she giggles and feels a smile against her jaw. Brittany’s lips purse to kiss the skin before she drops her chin to Santana’s shoulder.

Santana gasps. “No?” she asks with mock incredulity.

“No,” Brittany pouts, and Santana finally grins and lets up on her teasing, turning to press a kiss to Brittany’s cheek until she feels it bunch with a smile under her lips. “I meant, are you my girlfriend now?”

Despite expecting the question, nothing prepares Santana for the wave of pure happiness and love that floods her at that question, that idea, that concept, the idea of being Brittany’s girlfriend is more than she could ever hope for. “I would be disappointed if I wasn’t,” she says, and the smile in her voice is obvious even to her.

“So we’re girlfriends then?” Brittany clarifies, unable to stop herself from bouncing in place a little, jolting their bodies.

Santana’s heart melts right out of her chest and she can do nothing more than sigh her “Yes.”

“Score!” Brittany cheers right before she spins Santana around and pins her against the counter to seal their lips together, Brittany’s tongue immediately slipping into Santana’s mouth.

Their coffee is cold by the time they break apart, but they just giggle and kiss again and again and—

///

Brittany microwaves both of their coffees while Santana hunts for the creamer in the fridge, passing it to Brittany before she starts pulling out all kinds of ingredients for breakfast—or more like brunch, she realizes after a quick glance at the clock on the stove—and setting them on the kitchen island while Brittany finishes off making their coffees.

They had decided to make cinnamon buns last night at the grocery store; the last time Santana made them was with her mom, but she remembers the recipe like the back of her hand. Baking had always been something just for her and her mom, something they could do together that no one could take away, and every Christmas morning Santana remembers her mom waking her up—carrying her down to the kitchen when she was really young and poking and prodding her out of bed when she was a teenager—so they could bake cinnamon buns together.

Brittany takes her usual position as an assistant chief and hands Santana bowls and ingredients, and if Santana closes her eyes it almost feels like her mom is standing on her other side and guiding her movements like she used. It aches sharply and deeply in her chest but Brittany’s warmth against her side replaces it with a soft nostalgia as she thinks of all the Christmas mornings she had with her mom instead of the ones she lost.

Brittany’s patient and tender and attentive while Santana narrates the recipe as they make the cinnamon buns, equally curious about what the yeast does as she is about the year Santana put a tablespoon of salt in to the bowl instead of a teaspoon. She treats each story about Santana’s mom like a gift, tucking every single one carefully away and kissing Santana’s cheek whenever Santana’s chest starts to ache with pain, somehow just knowing when Santana needs to feel Brittany’s comforting warmth against her.

Santana’s sadness starts to fade as they clean up, the dough rising on the counter and the filling already mixed together. They stand side by side at the sink, Santana washing and Brittany drying, and before long Santana has bubbles in her hair and Brittany has them trailing down her arm and into the sleeve of her shirt and they’re wrapped up in each other again, ignoring the bubbles and water on the floor from their impromptu bubble fight.

Santana knows that while she has so many Christmases ahead of her without her mom and that it will probably always ache a little, she also has so many Christmases ahead of her with the goofy, sweet, brilliant, snarky, loving blonde in her arms, and that makes her heart bloom with so much love and hope that she kisses Brittany just to release it before she combusts; instead it just makes the feeling bloom even more.

///

While the cinnamon buns rise, they cuddle on the couch with their coffees and watch awful and cheesy Hallmark movies with essentially all the same plot, giggling as they’re able to predict every single plot point before it happens. Brittany answers some texts from her mom—telling them to call her in a couple hours after they’ve managed to get her sister out of bed and opened their presents—and sending a couple Merry Christmases to Mercedes and Sam while Santana does the same to Tina and Mike.

It’s the Facebook messenger notification that catches Santana’s attention, and she frowns at her phone for a second before opening the app and gasping at the message there. Brittany startles a little and turns to look at Santana, her eyes dropping to Santana’s phone and her arm tightening around Santana’s shoulders, tugging her into her body.

Santana stares at the message preview before finally clicking on the message. There's more than one message, all sent within a couple minutes of each other and she smiles tearily at the thought of her abuela's slow, halting typing; her arthritic fingers never could work a keyboard too well.

She knows Brittany's reading over her shoulder but trying to be subtle about it, so Santana just adjusts herself a little and holds up her phone so they can both read, turning her head to press a soothing kiss to Brittany's bicep as she feels her hesitate again, waiting until Brittany finally tucks her head in against Santana's as they read her abuela's words.

Santana rereads the messages about four times before they finally start to sink in, before she realizes that this is why her abuela sent that friend request after all these years of silence. The first message reads Merry Christmas, followed a couple minutes later by I know I hurt you so long ago but by the time I realized my mistake it was far too late and your mother’s number no longer worked. Gabriel helped me find you on Facebook a couple months ago but I only worked up the nerve to send this today.

“Gabriel?” Brittany asks softly.

“My cousin— The one that was cool with me being gay,” Santana explains.

Brittany makes a small sound of acknowledgement and kisses Santana on the forehead before turning back to the phone. Family is the most important thing in the world, the next message reads, and I have not acted like one to you. I was wrong but I was scared and narrow-minded and I am sorry for how I treated you. Brittany nuzzles her nose against Santana’s temple as Santana takes a shaky breath. She smiles up at Brittany and kisses the underside of Brittany’s jaw; she’s okay, she thinks, because this is more than she could ever ask for, it’s just a lot to take in after so many years of bitterness and sadness and she’s a little overwhelmed, only calming as Brittany’s fingers trail over her arm. If you do not respond I understand but I love you Santana and I know I do not deserve it but I do not want to miss out on anything else in your life. I have missed you so much.

Santana sighs and sinks back into Brittany’s arms, reading the messages one last time before exiting out of the app. Brittany nuzzles against Santana’s ear and kisses her cheek. “So,” she says quietly, “What do you want to do?”

Santana smiles a little and opens her Facebook app, clicking on the friend request tab and only hesitating a moment before accepting her abuela’s request.

Brittany smiles and kisses Santana's cheek again and something in Santana's chest starts to heal, the double ache of her abuela's estrangement and her mom's death starting to ease. She smiles and turns in Brittany's arms so their stomachs are pressed together, propping her hands on Brittany's chest and resting her chin on top of them. "Hey," she says.

Brittany's smile widens and she reaches up to tuck dark hair behind Santana's ear. "Hi," she giggles.

“I love you,” Santana says, simple and honest. Apparently having said it once opened a floodgate and she finds that she’s addicted to the way the words feel in her mouth, to the way Brittany’s eyes soften and light up all at the same time whenever she says them, to the way she can’t stop smiling when Brittany says them in return.

“I love you too,” Brittany whispers, and Santana leans up to kiss her until they’re both breathless and warm and the timer on Santana’s phone is going off. They reluctantly untangle themselves and head back to the kitchen to shape cinnamon buns on baking sheets and shove them in the oven to bake, crouching down to watch them for a moment.

“I haven’t made these in a really long time,” Santana warns as they peer into the oven.

Brittany leans over, just a little wobbly from where she’s crouched, and kisses Santana on the cheek. “I’ll still eat them even if they’re burnt to a crisp,” she says earnestly.

Santana giggles and reaches up to tug on the collar of Brittany’s shirt until she falls forwards onto her knees and her lips end up on Santana’s mouth. She gasps at the move and Santana takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into Brittany’s mouth, humming as Brittany presses even closer. She ends up flat on her ass, Brittany hovering over her and smothering her giggles against Santana’s lips. Santana nips at Brittany’s bottom lip and slips her fingers under the collar of Brittany’s shirt and Brittany’s laughter turns into a muffled moan.

Santana smirks against Brittany’s lips and kisses her harder.

///

They’re just finishing off eating their cinnamon buns, Brittany leaning against the arm of the couch and Santana leaning against her, sharing one plate balanced on Santana’s knees, when Brittany’s phone rings. She quickly shoves the last bite in her mouth and snags her phone off the coffee table, hitting the speakerphone button as she answers and mumbling her “Hello?” around the mouthful of food she’s still chewing on.

“Sweetie! Merry Christmas!” Whitney Pierce cheers loudly, sounding a little bit like she’s actually in the living room with them, her husband and other daughter’s voices faintly chiming in too. One thing Santana learned about Brittany’s mom over the last week is that Whitney really does not understand the meaning of an inside voice.

Brittany mumbles her greeting back, but her incoherence due to her still chewing on her mouthful of cinnamon bun is lost to Whitney’s rambling. Brittany mumbles something in answer to one of her mom’s questions and Whitney finally clues in and asks Brittany what she’s eating.

Brittany responds with something that Santana only knows means cinnamon buns because she watched her shove it in her mouth.

“Sorry, we don’t speak mumbling dork,” Brittany’s sister teases. Santana smirks and quickly sits up to place the empty plate on the coffee table before she drops her head back to Brittany’s shoulder, shifting around until she can actually watch Brittany as she talks.

“Sorry,” Brittany says once she’s finally swallowed her food, “Cinnamon buns.”

“Ooh,” Whitney coos, “Treating yourself today?”

“Something like that,” Brittany agrees before winking at Santana, who rolls her eyes and acts like she’s not completely charmed by Brittany at any and all times. Brittany laughs quietly, absently agreeing to whatever her mom is saying and instead tucking her phone against her other shoulder so she can wrap both arms tightly around Santana.

They talk about the presents Brittany’s parents and sister got, exchanging thank yous and you’re welcomes. Brittany’s family had brought their presents for her to New York with them for her to open, but Brittany’s presents for them had been completely forgotten at the top of Whitney and Pierce’s closet, which they only realized after they boarded the plane. They’re just about to go help Brittany’s grandma with supper now that gifts are all opened, Brittany’s huge collection of aunts and uncles and cousins and whatever other strays they find means that cooking Christmas Supper is an endeavour that starts before seven in the morning and continues throughout the day as family members wander in and out of the kitchen, sources of assistance and hinderance in equal measure.

“I wish you were here, sweetheart,” Whitney says and Santana can hear the pout in her voice, “instead of all the way across the country all alone.”

“I wish I was there too,” Brittany says, and then takes a deep breath and tightens her arms around Santana, who is still reclining back against her chest, her hips tucked securely between Brittany’s thighs, “But I’m not actually alone.” Santana smiles softly and Brittany quickly presses a kiss to her nose, grinning and pressing another one there when it scrunches up at the feeling.

“Oh?” Whitney says, “Did Mercedes not go up to see her parents last night then?”

“Nope,” Brittany singsongs, smiling softly at Santana and Santana feels her heart swell at the open look of love and adoration on her face, “My girlfriend’s with me.”

There’s a long beat of silence, and then all Santana can hear over the phone is shrieking and laughing and I knew its! as the Pierces all talk at once and Brittany’s phone speaker briefly screeches at all the loud input.

Brittany and Santana just smile at each other and start answering questions.

///

They spend the rest of the day lounging around the house and cuddling, kissing to a backdrop of cheesy Christmas movies and Christmas tree lights, hands wandering and learning each other’s bodies—both innocently and not so innocently—on the couch and in Brittany’s bed and in the shower as the sun starts to sink back behind the tall buildings around the apartment and then, eventually, behind the horizon. They find a place still open for delivery and order supper, reluctantly getting dressed in more than sleep shirts and underwear just long enough to answer the door. They eat sitting on the floor of the living room, their backs against the couch, and watch another cheesy Hallmark movie and bet on who can best guess the next plot point, using kisses as bargaining chips, so they actually both end up winning anyways.

They cuddle on the couch until they fall asleep and wake up in the middle of a different movie with no idea how many hours have passed. Santana turns off the television while Brittany checks that the door is locked and turns lights off as they stumble back down the hallway to Brittany’s bedroom, only stopping on the way to brush their teeth.

Santana crawls into bed and Brittany closes her blinds and shuts off the lamp on her bedside table before crawling under the covers too. Santana immediately cuddles close, their arms draping over each other and their legs tangling together.

“Merry Christmas,” Brittany says and presses her lips softly to Santana’s, smiling into the kiss until she draws back a little, “I love you.”

Santana sighs and chases after Brittany’s lips, mumbling her “I love you too” and “Merry Christmas” into Brittany’s mouth.

They keep kissing until they’re relaxed and sleepy, and finally Brittany pulls back a little to yawn. “Do you have anywhere to be tomorrow?” she asks quietly.

“Nope,” Santana smiles and shakes her head, nuzzling herself further into Brittany’s embrace until there’s no space between them, their foreheads pressed against each other and their noses squashed together, Santana’s lips brushing against Brittany’s and their arms tightening around each other, “Just right here, with you.”

#brittana #brittany pierce #santana lopez #glee #brittana fanfiction #glee fanfiction #my writing #story: be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe)#we did it fam #we made it All the Way to the 25th of december and all the way to the 25th chapter #I'm so exhausted lmao

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ko-yeop · 7 years ago

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Lovecraft: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Coming soon

Characters: Saeran Choi X Reader

Word Count: 4,632

Genre: Witchcraft!AU, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse

Summary: After an unfortunate drunken night, you, a fortune teller who was cursed from a young age by an unknown witch, breaks your own creed and read your own fate. Seeing nothing but ruin and isolation in the future, you seek out an apothecary named Saeran, who gives you untested potion called Aphrodite’s Blessing, not for free though. In return, he wishes to study and document it’s effects on you. Can his creation not only save you from fate, but also break your longstanding curse?

You were a little thankful that Saeran had decided to meet up with you at your home rather than forcing you to walk to his shop two days in a row. The walk wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but the days were getting shorter and colder. Thank the heavens that the flannel cloak you always wore was so warm even after all these years. If it wasn’t for the sweet heat it provided, you’d surely have frozen to death long ago. It was always in the back of your mind to purchase new boots, warmer scarves, and those gorgeous knitted mittens with the pearls sewn into the tops resembling snowflakes, but finances were tight. The overlooming thought of possibly not having money to buy food for tomorrow made you think twice about what was essential. More than often a meal and rent won over new clothing, even though it was dearly needed.

The town square’s market wasn’t too far from your street. It was quite handy, seeing as how you rarely had to travel far for anything you required. Not to mention on slower days when there were fewer vendors, you were able to set up a small table to sell readings. Fortunes, unveiling the true intentions of a relative, finding out if someone’s love was unrequited or not… Whatever anyone would request. The competitive nature of the market meant early mornings and long days to allocate a spot. It was far too troublesome, especially for a plain diviner like you who was commonly overlooked in favour of roasted sweet potatoes and fresh, bloody cuts of butchered cattle. Even if you were only able to get ten or fifteen customers every few days, the pocket change was still money in the end. It felt heavy in your pockets, you could feel the weight of each silver coin, and you treasured them as if they were your lifeline.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You trodded down the creaky steps, opening the door as little as possible. It’d be nice to keep some of the heat inside the stone walls. The metallic handle was cool to the touch. An igloo might have better insulation than this atrocious excuse for a home. It took an eternity for the warmth of the fireplace to reach the nooks and crannies of your small home, and you weren’t about to undo what took about three hours this morning.

“Ready to go?” Saeran tilted his head slightly as he asked. He peeked through the crack in the door, trying to survey your surroundings. The mess of cards and small jewels strewn across a nearby side table caught his eye. He never took much interest in divination, but he did find the idea of refreshing and “charging” divination tools with crystals quite interesting. It was well known that crystals were used in multiple crafts, from alchemy, to enhancing illusion and restoration spells, to simple blessings. Saeran himself used various pestles and spoons carved from crystals when creating his concoctions. He silently reminded himself to ask you about what properties you noticed from crystals and gems later. Perhaps there was something he could learn from a diviner. Saeran was eager to find out what knowledge he couldn’t learn from books and scrolls.

“Uh, yeah. Just let me grab my cape,” Quickly scurrying back up the stairs, you wrapped the trusty navy blue cloak around you, and tugged on the pointed hat, praying this much would keep you warm today. Perhaps you’d be able to haggle a deal on a pair of gloves while you were there. The market was held outdoors until the snow and chill became too much, then it would move to within one of the town halls. As much as most vendors preferred to be indoors, there was little space in the halls. Fewer people could get into it, and less product would be brought due to space confinements. The air would fill with the mixed scents of oils, herbs, meats, and wines. Which did not mix well at all. The scent was putrid at best. Often driving customers to leave for specialty shops that had concrete locations, if not just for breathable air.

Saeran noticed how your shivering wrists tugged at the neck of your cape, trying to wrap it tighter, closer. Anything to keep warm. Your cheeks were growing deeper in colour by the second. Each time the wind whipped at your skin it felt like an icy blade that slashed your skin.

“Are you sure you’ll be warm enough with just that on? You look kinda cold,”

“O-Oh, um… Yeah. I’ll be fine,” You tried to hide the fact that you were, and always had been, freezing. You didn’t want to appear as though you were scraping coins together to buy loaves of bread, even if that is what you did on a day-to-day basis. You had to admit, it was nice to hear someone concerned for your well being. Regardless, you still didn’t want to become a bother, especially to someone who was already helping you so much.

“You’re not a very convincing liar,” His eyes narrowed in your direction. You remained silent at his comment. Before you knew it, Saeran was removing the burgundy wool scarf he’d been wearing and wrapped it around your neck, tying it in the back so the length draped down your back. You stood still, unsure of what to do. Why was he giving you his scarf? Wouldn’t that mean he would freeze instead of you? Perhaps you just weren’t used to this kind of selfless behaviour. “That should keep you a little warmer. I can’t document any physical effects the potion may be having on you if you’re a icicle. Changes the environmental factors and all that… Y’know?”

“Ah, right… Thank you,” You tried to hide your now warm cheeks in the woven wool. It was soft, and smelled faintly of ginger and cinnamon. You wondered what item he’d been working on that used those two together. What properties did they have again…? Remembering herbs and their benefits wasn’t something you were skilled at. Too many plants, too many names, too many similar ones. It was amazing how Saeran knew so many off the top of his head.

"Oh, I've been forgetting to ask you, but do you have any allergies perchance?" Saeran’s question pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at him, trying to figure out his expression. Was he concerned for you? Was this a sign of the potion working it’s magic?

"No. Or at least no allergies that I'm aware of,"

"Well, that's good then, means we don't need to worry about any ingredients causing a reaction. Or at least they shouldn't." You felt a little disheartened at his reply. He was just asking for scientific purposes… Not personal intrigue. You should’ve expected that much.

Saeran had confidence in his ability to concoct potions, but he was always wary about his ingredients. He preferred to stick to more natural, herbal materials, but regrettably this caused severe reactions for many. His ingredients were always haphazardly strewn on a paper tag attached to the bottle for this reason. There wasn’t a more ghastly feeling in the world for him than harming someone when he had the intention to help. These days there were more and more mythical ingredients finding their way into alchemy and potion-crafting, and while they were effective, they were extremely difficult to work with without accidentally blowing oneself up.

The path to the market was quite busy today. More people were bustling about than usual, which was odd considering the frigid cold. The two of you remained silent while you trekked there. You’d attempted small talk, but neither of you managed to keep the conversation going. It wasn’t like you two knew each other all that well anyways. You’d only met twice.

Eventually the stalls and booths came into view. The frozen breaths of customers conglomerated into a haze that lingered over the town square. Several small fires were set up in their bleak gothic cages, the open top allowing people to gather for brief reprieve of the chill. You noticed a mother tug her small child close to the fire, and the two of them stretched out their mittened hands.

“Be careful not to get too close, okay sweetheart?” The mother crooned. She reached down to adjust the hood over the child’s head, making sure her ears were fully covered.

“Okay mama!”

You smiled at the warm-hearted display, it reminding you of your own parents. You really did miss their warm touch, the simple pleasantries, and their love for you. Your heart ached at the reminder that you had no one in the world except them, and they were so far away… It was lonely, living like this. But you were happy to have the apothecary who was willing to help you with your curse at least.

“Saeran, are you close with your parents?” You questioned after you observed him watching the mother and child too. It was a conversation starter at least. The silence between you two for the last twenty minutes was becoming irritating.

“Mm, no. I was orphaned at young age, and then my teacher Jihyun took me in,” Saeran’s eyes grew cold at your question. He gazed at your face, looking for signs of something to distrust in. A quirk of the mouth, a specific look in the eye…. But he found nothing of that sort. He was always on the defensive about his childhood. It wasn’t exactly something he really cared to talk about. Who’d want to recall being abused and abandoned by your family?

“O-Oh… I’m sorry to hear that, you must’ve had a rough childhood,” You looked down at your tattered boots, not expecting such a sad response.

“It was only rough before Jihyun came into my life. He was my sunshine, and he provided for me well,” He tried to lift the mood, smiling at you. Although the words were bittersweet to him, he knew they’d come off as a lot more positive to you. You didn’t carry the feelings for Jihyun that he did, and your ignorance was bliss to him.

“Well… At least things have been better since then. He must’ve been an amazing person,” Saeran looked up at the sky, watching how the sunlight slipped through the clouds above.

“He was the most selfless person I’ve ever met. I’ve got nothing but respect for him to the end of time,”

“Alright, for your first test, I want you to try flirting with a shopkeep,”

“You want me to what?” You were taken aback by his statement. You’d never flirted with anyone in your life, nor been flirted with. Where do you even begin? How do you flirt with someone without making a fool of yourself, or was that the point? To be so much of a fool that people find it endearing?

“It’s nothing crazy, just compliment them a little bit. If you could do it with a man and a woman that would be great, I’d like to see the effects on both genders,” Saeran had begun writing notes within a pocket-sized journal. How could he talk so nonchalantly about this? What was he even writing about already?

“I...I really don’t know to do such a thing,”

“It’s easy, I told you. Just say they have nice eyes or something,” He waved you off in the direction of the busy aisle. You realized quickly you’d have to swallow your pride and get this over and done with if you wanted to leave today. If you refused he’d probably just instigate a situation himself, and you preferred to not have him take control of whatever awkward conversation that was about to ensue.

You slowly approached the stall selling children’s toys. Wooden tops and colourful, plush animals with buttons sewn on for eyes adorned the wooden counter.

“Are you looking for something for a younger sibling, or are you just indulging yourself?” The boy behind the counter with bright blue eyes and even brighter flax coloured hair perked up as he saw you grasp at the ear of a bunny.

“Um, I...Uh, I’m just looking for now!” You blurted out, unsure of what to say. He was kinda cute, you had to admit. Perhaps you should’ve picked a place with someone less attractive working, it might’ve been easier to flirt with someone you had no interest in.

“No worries, just let me know if you need help,” He flashed a smile that would put the sun to shame before turning to attend to another customer.

Mentally, you tried to calm yourself. There was nothing to be worked up over. Just say he has pretty eyes like Saeran told you to and get out of here. You glanced in Saeran’s direction to see him with a notepad in hand, watching your interaction intently. He smirked and gave you a thumbs up, as if encouraging you to keep going. The smug look on his face made you uneasy, as if he was doing this just to watch you squirm. Regardless, you nodded and smiled weakly. There was no point in trying to back out now. You’d created a mutually beneficial deal, and you weren’t one to go back on your word.

“Um, excuse me!” You waved the boy over.

“Is there something I can do for you?”

“I...Uh,” You could feel your heart stop, anxiety washing over you. You stuttered and fumbled over your words as you tried to spit them out. Get the horrid taste of false flattery off your tongue. “I just wanted to tell you that your eyes were quite lovely…” You averted your gaze, not really wanting to see whatever reaction you’d get. You could feel the warmth on your face spread to your eyes, ears, and nose. This was utterly humiliating in more ways than one.

“O-Oh, uh, thank you very much! But I have a lovely girlfriend…” The boy trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that! I just thought you should know, spreading the kindness and all…” You laughed half-heartedly trying to improvise a cover up. He’d obviously seen through your cheap lie, but neither of you commented on the elephant in the room. The boy nodded and resumed speaking with other customers, and you took the opportunity to flee the booth as quickly as possible.

“Good job spreading the kindness,” Saeran laughed at your obvious discomfort.

“Shut up, you made me do it, and I did it. Is that enough information for you, can we leave now before I embarrass myself further?”

“Mm, not quite enough. Did you ever receive a similar reaction prior to taking Aphrodite’s Blessing?”

“I’ve never tried to flirt with anyone before, so I can’t say,”

“What about just regular compliments? Like telling the tax collector you like her blouse in hopes she forgets what she was there for in the first place and leaves,”

“No, usually when I give out compliments, I’m ignored outright, or all I get is a smile. It’s always been like I was a ghost,”

“Well, being acknowledged then is a good sign. It means something is working at least. Even if it’s only bringing you back from a different plane of existence,”

“Hey, I’m not dead, that much I’m certain of,”

“Are you sure you’re not what’s been causing my floors to creak at night?”

“If you don’t shut your mouth I will ensure I haunt you in my afterlife,” You huffed at his jest, before turning your back and moving towards the street. Saeran would catch up anyways.

A rough hand jerked you to the side. Your heart jump into your throat. Caught off guard, you let out a yelp.

“Naw, naw, pretty girls like you roamin’ the market? Does’at mean yer fer sale too?” A massive man whose size was at least double your own had your arm gripped like a vice. His face was heavily scarred, and the eyepatch covering his right eye looked as though it hadn’t seen a bucket of soap and water for months with all the grime caking in the seams.

“Let go of me,” You lowered your voice, narrowed your eyes. You made him know you were not one to be toyed with. You were prepared make more than a fuss if he tried to haul you off, and perhaps he’d lose the other eye while he was at it. Even if none of that was true, you’d embody it to intimidate him. Stand your ground no matter what. Mother had always taught you how to deal with men like this, though you’d never needed to use her teachings until now.

“Feisty aren’t ya? Ahehe, that’s how I always liked ‘em,” His booming guffaw attracted the attention of passerbys, but none stopped to help. Not that you blamed them, the behemoth before you looked as though he could crush someone under his thumb. It was doubtful anyone wanted to interfere and risk having their head smashed into a cart of day old halibut.

“Let me go. Now,” You tried to pry your arm from him, but his fat and calloused fingers easily overpowered the strength of your entire upper arm.

“Awww, ye don’t wanna come care for me a lil? Yer a fortune teller right? Tell ya what, shuffle them fancy cards of yer’s and tell me what a guys gotta do to get a sweet lil’ lady like ya to snuggle up to ‘im? If ya do, I’ll go easy on ya,”

“You’ll let me go this instant before I personally behead you myself,”

“Slingin’ threats now huh? I’m sure ye won’t be runnin’ that mouth for much longer,” The man began hauling you to a nearby alley, it’s end unseen. It was shrouded in shadows, and you didn’t want to know what kinds of people, what horrors where tucked away in darkness. Your fist beat against his arm frantically, doing no damage much to your avail. Kicking proved to be pointless. At the brisk pace he was dragging you, you were forced to walk or risk having him drag your knees along the grit and cobblestone. There’s how many people here… And not a single person is willing to help… You thought to yourself. This city is despicable. I’m going to be hauled off to god knows where, possibly never see the light of day again, they would rather go about their own business, knowing they could’ve done something. I hope these bastards sleep soundly at night. Enjoy looking at your wretched face in the mirror.

You were suddenly wrenched back with great force, you felt your back collide into someone’s body, but they didn’t falter at the impact. The grip on your arm was a little painful, but nothing compared to how roughly the brute had been handling you. The hand moved from your bicep to your wrist, hurriedly dragging you along with them as the two of you fled, running straight for the crowd.

“C’mon, neither of us can take him here, so we need to move fast,” Saeran had thrown his hood up in effort to disguise himself amongst the throng of people. The two of you ran directly into circles of people, avoiding the man screaming profanities at the two of you and attempting to find you two. This tactic earned you some sighs and glares, but it was certainly better than being caught up to.

“Who th’ fuck d’ya think y’ar!? I’ll peel yer flesh from yer bones and sell ya t’ th’ merc’s!” You were thankful that his overwhelming size slowed him down, speed was on your side, that was for sure. His bellowing voice was becoming fainter quickly.

“We need to leave before him or one of his accomplices finds us, put the hood on your cape up and carry your hat so we aren’t spotted,” You nodded and followed Saeran, not that you had much of a choice with him barrelling through people with you in tow.

Both of you wove in between people, darting in and out of the narrow spaces between stalls until you reached a quiet side street. Seeing as how it was unlikely the man would’ve followed you to this point, you both ducked into an grungy alley to catch your breath.

“We should be safe here,”

“Saeran… What did you mean… By accomplices?” You panted. The thought of more of those men being nearby was terrifying.

“Guys like those don’t operate alone,” Saeran swallowed and wiped a bead of sweat from his temple. “They have one main man haul off girls, and then about three or four patrolling and scouting for the next girl, or ladies that escape on the first try,”

“How do you know all this?”

“They come in all the time asking me for aphrodisiacs and similar potions to knock people out. I refuse service and report them to the royal guards, but they still have yet to actually do something about it. My guess is that the guards are involved themselves,”

“That’s horrid,”

“Don’t trust royalty. Ever. They’re all a bunch of rich scum, the worst the world has to offer,”

“I’ll keep that in mind,”

“Well, on the bright side of things, the man trying to haul you off is another sign that the potion is having some effect on you. By the sound of things, that incident would’ve likely never happened had you not been taking Aphrodite’s Blessing,”

“I nearly got kidnapped and that’s what you’re concerned about?” Your blood began to boil. You’d just witnessed one of the most dire events in your entire life and Saeran was looking at the positives of his potion? “I’m not going to continue taking this stupid thing if this is what it causes… I should’ve known better than to believe something like this would work,”

“Hey, calm down.” Saeran gripped both of your shoulders, bringing you back to the present and out of you worried myriad of thoughts. “That’s how attraction and love work sometimes. It’s not always reciprocated, and it’s not always bubblegum and fluffy clouds. Sometimes it’s chains and dark cellars. It’s feeling like you’ve been stabbed a thousand times, and feeling like you’ve reached euphoria all at the same time.” You stared at him square in the eye, listening reluctantly to his every word. What he had to say was crushing, but it’s not as if you’d ever known romantic love before. Being a newly hatched chick, you had a lot to learn. “The fact that this happened is unfortunate, but thanks to it, we got some good information about how the potion is affecting you and others. It’ll be extremely useful for my research, and I can perfect this thing and get you the help you need,” He took a step back, noticing how you’d begun to squirm slightly under his touch.

“I thought this thing was supposed to attract love into my life, not get me trafficked,” You dangled the crystal bottle before his eyes, stirring up the contents. Bits of rose petals and ashes of violets danced around each other within the glass.

“It’ll do both. You can’t have one without the other, and I can’t give you another potion to take alongside this one until I’ve got all the information about it. I don’t know how this one would react to another. Besides, I saved you in end didn’t I?”

“I suppose so… Thank you, by the way. I wasn’t able to overpower him physically,”

“Don’t mention it, I wasn’t about to let my precious test subject mysteriously disappear,” Saeran sighed before running a hand through the tufts of fluffy hair, causing them to stick out in odd angles. “I doubt I could find another person to test out Aphrodite’s Blessing for me, so I’d be at a loss without you,” You sunk down to the ground, looking up at the sky. You were thankful to be here right now, even if it was dreary and bleak, and not tied up on a ship.

“What were you going to do if that man had caught up to us?”

“Oh, I know a little bit of destruction magic. I just prefer not to use it in areas where I could injure other people. I’m not trained very well, so I could easily torch a few innocents without meaning to,”

“Really? I didn’t know that,”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” You looked at him quizzically, hoping for him to elaborate a little, but he only gave you a smile. It was eerie, almost as if he was hiding something from you. There was something to uncover about him, some secret truth perhaps.

“Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. Perhaps I can continue learning more things about you in the future,” You didn’t want to acknowledge your strange dream from before, but the words were in the back of you mind, pricking at the trust you wished to place in Saeran.

“Me. You. The apothecaries. We’re all connected, you’ll see.”

Just what connection was there? Surely that dream was nothing, just a figment of your imagination that you were allowing to have far too much control over your emotions.

“Yeah… Same goes for you,” You smiled to yourself, butterflies’ fluttering wings suddenly tickling your insides. It felt silly, but this was a warmth you’d never known before.

“Are you still up to do more tests after that incident? I can keep them within the confines of the shop if you’d prefer for awhile.”

“As long as it’s indoors, yes, we can continue. Though I don’t know how much information you can gather without social interaction…”

“It’s fine. Besides, I count as social interaction too. I don’t always just lurk in a corner taking notes,”

“Thank you...For your consideration I mean,”

“No no, thank you for still agreeing to this after today. Here, I’ll walk you home, just to make sure you’re safe,” You walked adjacent to him, ready to break into a sprint at any moment. You were certain the man was gone, but you still felt on edge. Saeran’s presence was comforting nevertheless. Even though he was obviously not the person with the most bulk on the streets, it was nice to know that his minor knowledge of destruction magic could protect the two of you if it was necessary.

“Aren’t your hands cold? You haven’t been wearing gloves all day,” Saeran inquired.

“A little, why? Are you going to give me yours on top of your scarf too?” You let out a chuckle. “At this rate I’ll have your whole wardrobe,”

“Nope, I can’t risk freezing my own. I kinda need these to do my work. Here, give me your hands,” You held out your reddened palms, fingertips raw from the brisk air. Saeran took out a small vial from inside his jacket.

“This here… Is my special heating dust,” He bagan to sprinkle the maroon and russet flakes on your skin, and you could feel your skin thawing at the touch.

“Saeran…” He grinned at you, his stupid smile trying to hide the truth. “These are just chili flakes,”

“Your point?”

“It’s not some special heating dust if it’s just a common household spice!”

“The practice of potion crafting begins in the kitchen,”

“Are you a chef or an apothecary?”

“Perhaps I’m both,”

“Considering how thin you are, I’m betting you’re not a chef,”

“Harsh, maybe I should just leave now if you’re going to be so rude to a man who’s trying to help,”

“Don’t you dare leave me to walk home alone after today,”

“Ahaha, alright alright. Calm down, we’re going.”

#saeran choi #mystic messenger #mm ray #mm unknown #mysme #reader insert #reader x saeran #fluff #mystic messenger fic #lovecraft #witchcraft!au

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canadian-buckbeaver · 7 years ago

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Into the Portal Hole

As the others back home work on Gaster's machine, Sai finds that her friends of the other dimension are more than willing to lend a helping hand.

Sai couldn’t believe it. She honestly couldn’t. She knew from Blue’s previous conversations that Stretch had once worked with the other scientists under his father, W. D Gaster, and her Edge had said something similar about his brother too.

But she was not expecting to have a small, ultra-intelligent taskforce in their kitchen. Gaster was re-drawing his blueprints from memory, his glasses taped to his skull. Stretch, Bee, and Red were hanging over him, all making comments or calculations about what could have possibly gone wrong in their test. “Do you think it was an external factor? One that you hadn’t calculated in?” Red asked, peering at the sketch. When he wasn’t crackling awful jokes, or moping around either of his mates, Sai could see exactly what Edge meant. Red was smart, almost as smart as Gaster.

“it would have to be, otherwise the failsafe would have kicked in and would have spawned back in their own universe…” Stretch muttered, squinting as he followed a gear line in the engine.

“try adding a quadrant of five here…” Bee said, pointing at something on the paper.

It honestly just made Sai’s head spin though she was grateful that progress was being made to get everyone home. If slowly. Bucky giggled. “You have the same facial expression that I do when the twins start talking science.” She said, smiling at her.

Sai sighed. “They are all just too smart for their own good… I hope the twins take after their daddy’s mind at least. If they take after me, they’ll be hooped. Gaster will have them enrolled in all sorts of math and science…” the twins were nestled in her lap, leaning against her as they fed off her magic.

“Hey now. If they take after you, they will be just as lucky.” Lines said, bumping her head against Sai’s hand. “After all, it takes a special person to keep monsters in line, and you have more than the rest of us.”

Nikki snorted and shook her head. “Certain punishment just gets Red all excited. You’ll need to show me how you do it with the rest of your crew.” Beside her, Artemis nodded.

Sai had to smile. Everyone was just so welcoming and friendly. Out of the rest of the AUs, she supposed that they were lucky to make it into one where she had the head start on friends… “Do you happen to have some water?” Sai asked Bucky. Feeding the twins always made her thirsty.

“Sure. I have bottled water in the fridge, bottom shelf, right-hand side.” She gently took Corbel from Sai, cradling him close. “Mind grabbing me one too, please?”

Nikki took Ignatius and carefully held him. “Me three,” she said, her eyes not leaving the babies.

Excusing herself for a moment, Sai walked by the scientist group where a stunned Grillby had been forced to listen to the numbers and scientific formulas. The poor man looked half asleep. Maybe she’ll need to save him and let him escape for a nap for a bit. He hadn’t been sleeping well at the mansion either, Sai remembered, pulling open the door to the fridge and scouring the shelves. Christ, there was a lot of honey here. She supposed that with double Stretches, the honey devouring was also increased. Por Bucky and Blue really had their hands full with these Papyruses.

Chuckling, Sai closed the door, eyeing the pictures that scattered it. There was a world here too, different perhaps, but just as developed as her own. There was a baby Blue sleeping next to his elder twin brothers, then the three of them standing beside what looked to be the Gaster of this world. The twins, now older and more tired looking, sitting at Muffet’s café – the shot had to be taken by Blue. Then there was Bucky sitting between the twins, a dark blush on her cheeks as the twins kissed her. And then a sonogram of four tiny souls curled close together….

Wait… WHAT?

Suddenly that explained Stretch’s and Bee’s reluctance at letting her out of her sight or move much.

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?” Sai cried out, interrupting of the all conversations that were being held in the dining room. Everyone jumped, spinning around to look at her. “WITH QUADRUPLETS?”

The Papyrus twins looked smug and proud of themselves, grinning as they chewed on their lollipops. Bucky smiled warmly at Sai. “Yes…. The twins went into heat about a month ago. We just found out the good news and told everyone about one… two weeks ago?” Bucky asked, looking around at the small group of friends, her arms wrapping around her middle. Now that Sai was looking at her closely, there was the smallest bump to her.

Sai’s mouth was agape, and she trembled slightly. Dropping the water on the table, she wrapped her friend in a huge hug. “Oh, I cannot believe it!” she exclaimed. She pulled back, looking at her other friend. “My goodness, you are small…. You’re gonna look like you have an exercise ball under your shirt by the end of it.”

There was a snort from Bucky. “I always imagined something of my stomach out to here,” she gestured with her hands, giggling. “Something like a half Pacman character.”

Nikki grinned, pulling out her phone. “Now we were practising,” she whispered in a stage-whisper. “We haven’t shown the twin these pictures but…”

There was an odd, high pitched squeak from a quickly reddening Bucky. “Hey! No, you promised that you guys didn’t save them!”

Sai caught a quick glimpse of a picture of Bucky with what looked to be a basketball shoved under her shirt before the phone was snatched by a bony hand. Stretch and Bee were peering at it, hearts in their eye lights. “you should send those to us,” Stretch said to Nikki. “we’ll pick up some of that salami that you like.”

“Deal,” Nikki said, grinning and taking her phone back, ignoring a sputtering Bucky.

“I SWEAR TO THE STARS IF YOU DON’T DELETE THOSE RIGHT NOW, I WILL KICK YOUR ASSES.” Bucky threatened them.

Bee and Stretch chuckled. “aww come on sweetheart. you know that you can’t do that to us 1 HP monsters… our children need us~” they purred together.

“I CAN LOOK AFTER THEM MYSELF IF NEED BE. ESPECIALLY IF YOU KEEP THOSE FREAKING PHOTOS!” Bucky threatened, the others laughing.

Lines shook her head, shaking her fur. “I keep telling you that I know a great place to hide a body. Or two. You just need to ask me.”

Grillby knelt under the table, grabbing a slowly escaping Ignatius. He came close to a laughing Sai, wrapping an arm around her, watching the chaos unfold. ‘Almost like home?’ he signed to her, his eyes twinkling.

Sai nodded. It was close to home… “So how are we getting home?” she asked, nodding to the paper.

“I believe that there is a movie that you close your eyes and clink your heels together three times.” A familiar, English voice said behind her.

Silence fell heavy on the group as the others turned around to face the newcomer. Stretch and Bee came in front of Bucky, Fell stepping in front of Lines in a similar manner. Nikki’s tail wrapped around a growling Red, a large red spike erupting from the grey fur, Pizza taking a defensive stance.

However, Sai leapt at him, hugging him tightly. “Sebastian!” she cried out, hiding her face in his crisp, white button-up. “How on earth did you find us?”

The demon butler chuckled, his eyes glimmering slightly red. “Now, how good of a butler would I be if I couldn’t rescue my mistress?” His eyes looked around at the others, his eyes resting at the familiar and unfamiliar, scanning them in his own way. “Though I am pleased to see that you were not in any danger.”

“Of course not! I had Grillby and Gaster here, and Edge has taught me more than a few things.” she fake pouted, a large smile on her face. Sebastian was here. They could go home.

Sebastian chuckled. “I do not doubt your skill m’lady. Forgive me if that is how it came out.” he smiled at her. “Now, shall I escort you and everyone home?”

“Yes!” Sai said, far too quickly. “I am so ready to get home and see everyone…” she paused, turning around to see her new friends. The others were silent. A little numb over the sudden appearance, but also that they would be losing her so soon… “I… I mean…”

Bucky smiled at her. “It’s alright. We understand. We are friends but,” here she chuckled. “I think that we would all feel the same way if it was us in your situation.”

The others nodded in agreement, still eyeing the demon butler as they slowly relaxed. “I would do anything to get back to Red and Nikki.” Pizza said, his hands reaching out to his mates. Giving them a gentle squeeze, he shot a dazzling grin at Sai. “We know what you meant.”

Sai trembled for a moment before coming up and hugging them all tightly. The little group hugged her tight, being wary of Bucky’s stomach. Sai was surprised to feel the tickle of tears in her own eyes as she stepped back. “I’m going to miss you,” she whispered.

“We’ll miss you too,” Bucky whispered back to her, smiling. “But now that you know we are here, you could always visit us.”

Sai nodded. “Yes… maybe you can come up to our universe and live there?” Sai wondered out loud.

Gaster chuckled. “We’ll update the mansion first before then.” He said to Sai, winking at her.

“Very well…” Bucky pulled her into a tight hug. “Then until we meet again.”

Hugging her back, Sai nodded. “Until next time.” she agreed. Drawing back, she quickly wiped her face, stepping back to be close to Sebastian again. Grillby and Gaster stood next to her, each of them holding one of the twins in their hands. Sai waved at the other universal copies even as the colours blended together, whirling together in a dizzying manner.

* * * * *

Sai stumbled a little bit as the floor solidified under her again. Sebastian’s teleport was a little different than Gaster’s… she gasped as there was a sudden vice around her, knocking some of the wind out of her. “SAI!” Bucky, her Bucky exclaimed, holding tightly to her. “Oh I was so worried and the machine wouldn’t turn on or work or…”

Another hug captured her other side. “I knew you would be back!” Alana exclaimed. “Oh, but I was so worried. I just…”

Sai sniffed and held her friends close to her, watching as Sebastian stepped out of the room, quietly as if he had never been there. Gaster and Grillby chuckled to themselves, holding the twins close to them. “I missed you guys too…. but I have so much to tell you guys!”

#undertail #polyamory #w.d. gaster #ut!grillby #us!papyrus #uf!papyrus #uf!sans #oc #female oc #w.d gaster/grillby/oc #twin papyrus au #underswap #established relationship

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rebelstreetclothing · 6 years ago

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How to Find the Best Corset

You may have in your mind an idea of a corset as a sexy piece of lingerie (that it can be) or as a popular style of the 1800s (that it was), but the most precise description of the modern corset is a tool to pull on your waist, providing your chest an hourglass shape, much like a bra supports and gives shape to your breasts.

Find the Best One

First of all, you will need to find the ideal corset for you.We're talking about style here- if you prefer to wear bright colours but wind up with a black corset, something has gotten off-track! So the first factor in the search is to ascertain what type of corset would suit you best.

There are two major styles, overbust and underbust. An overbust corset covers the torso, and is better for people that have a small to medium bust. Well-endowed girls often have trouble finding overbust corsets that will accomodate them in a flattering manner (unless they get one custom-made), and creates great cleavage for those who have smaller chests. They fall just under the bustline, and snap in all of the soft parts beneath the ribcage. In addition, I find this style for a bit more versatile as far as putting together outfits, but that's merely a personal decision. Evaluate what you may want to pair the corset together and plan accordingly.

Color and substance is the next step. Additionally, it is important to discover a material you're delighted with- satins and brocades are a great jumping off point, but if you like a more intense, eye-catching appearance, by all means- go for the leather or vinyl! It is all about what you are comfortable with. And do not worry- where there is 1 corset, there'll usually be more.

Get the Perfect fit

They operate by waist measurement, so you will want to choose your natural waist measurement and subtract 2 to 4 inches. Corsets are intended to stay open a bit from the back so in case you're able to easily shut yours all the way, you may wish to go down a size! Do not forget that it ought to be tight, but you should still have the ability to breathe (though yawning in a corset is surely an unusual feeling, since the diaphragm can't expand up to normal, making the consumption of air for a yawn impossible).

There is nothing quite like knowing you've got the perfect outfit. This does, however, have a little planning, and you will want to lay out your outfit in full before you even begin to get dressed. I have found this out the hard way repeatedly, and have turned into a strict adherent of the principles:

-In virtually every event, the corset is the VERY last thing you wear.

-Seriously. Go put your face on, do your hair, wear your shoes- whatever else comes first!

-The only exception is if you're wearing your corset beneath your clothes. If that's the case, put on everything except the items to be worn over the corset.

Do not forget that if you're wearing your cincher for a base piece, you do have to wear a camisole or other mild garment between it and your skin. These items are tight, and can rub sometimes- also, a cami will keep your corset cleaner.

Lace it right

This is not like lacing up a tennis shoe, so you will want to check that the lacing is done correctly. The most frequent way entails lacing bottom to top, with the tie for the laces being in the smallest point of the waist. To actually cinch down, the upper loop of the bow must tighten the bottom of the corset, and the bottom loops must tighten the top. There are different ways to lace up too, and you might need to alter the setup if, say, you are wearing the cincher beneath a dress so the knot will not show. Whichever way you tighten up, correct lacing will guarantee your corset stays snug and looking amazing.

What is different between the two?

A bustier is a fancy bra-plus-shapewear combo which smooths the waist and uplifts breasts.

Corsets tighten with a blend of back laces and a front steel busk closure ... bustiers frequently use a hook and eye closure like on a bra (and just have laces for looks).

A corset supplies that hourglass "shape" in the midsection. A bustier does not.

Corsets are generally much more expensive since they require a certain excellent standard of construction to operate properly. What you have probably seen called a "waist trainer" is really a latex waist cincher.

A corset is typically made from satin, cotton, leather or mesh, and utilizes steel boning to form your waist. A waist cincher is a sort of shapewear made from latex that uses the elasticity of the material to "snap" on your waist. Corsets are a lot more specific to size properly, whereas a "waist cincher" is more like sweat pants... a few sizes match. Corsets can be worn over the clothing as a fashion statement.

A waist cincher was created solely to fit under your clothing. Latex cinchers are amazing for creating a smoother, more flattering figure under clothes and can create a temporary hourglass figure.

Which cloth is best?

But all of the fabrics do have pros and cons and you may be a better choice for you than the others. Following is a listing of the most common kinds and our recommended usage.

Satin - If you intend to wear your corset beneath your clothes we propose satin. Your clothes will glide over the surface of the corset like a slide under a dress as opposed to clinging to it. It is comfortable, easy to wear under or over clothes, you can wear it in the hot summer months without becoming too warm, and it provides a wonderful silhouette because there's so little bulk to the corset.

Cotton - If casual relaxation is more your thing, then cotton are the one for you! Cotton takes a bit more time to feel like it is broken in, but when it is, it is going to be as comfortable and easy to wear as your favorite denim jeans. Wearing cotton corsets under clothing is a bit trickier due to the thicker cloth. They seem more elegant than a plain cloth and can add something a bit extra to your ensemble. As it's a thicker, woven cloth, it is going to require more uses for this to be as comfy as a thinner cloth, but once it's broken into your body, it'll be a comfortable and elegant addition to your wardrobe. It's a material that's comfortable almost immediately. Lambskin is not the rigid and rigid leather which most folks expect when they think of leather cloths. Although your clothes would not cling to this fabric in the event that you wore it under your clothes, it will have a little more bulk to it, so it is far better to wear it on your clothes and show it off. We do not recommend daily waist training on your leather corsets though; as leather is a natural skin and can stretch out slightly with time.

How to wash a corset?

We recommend taking your corset to a seasoned dry cleaner if needed.

Air out your corset after every wearing by putting it lining side up and center it on a hanger or seat. A little bit of fabric freshener might be used between cleanings on the inner lining only. Make certain to dry thoroughly before storing. Never dry your corset out as sunlight can damage the cloth.

A hot corset shirt or bustier top, when worn properly, is an elegant and gorgeous addition to a lot of outfits. Accentuating curves and womanly charms, they appear to be a daunting prospect but can actually be quite comfortable once you get the fundamentals down. Versatile enough to be worn beneath t-shirts and glamorous enough for a wedding day, the key lies in understanding how to rock the perfect one for you.

Goth & Skull Clothing & Accessories

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mostlymovieswithmax · 7 years ago

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Chaos Walking (2019) [initial thoughts]

I’ve just discovered that some of my favourite books are going to be made into a movie to be released next year. The Chaos Walking trilogy is a series of novels by author Patrick Ness (author of A Monster Calls) that I read a few years ago and am now starting to read again. In a quick Google search I discovered that these books are being made into one movie to be released next year. With a director (Doug Liman) and cast (such as Tom Holland and Daisy Ridley) already established, I was very taken aback by this news and I’m really not sure how to feel about it.

I won’t give away too much of the plot for these books because this isn’t a review so much as it is a general musing on what I think of the announcement of the movie itself. However if you haven’t read the books and you want to then I would advise not reading any further until you have read at least the first book as I don’t think I can avoid all spoilers (provided you don’t want even the slightest detail spoiled). I also cannot recommend the books enough so if you’re even just a little curious then I suggest buying the first book pictured above (which can cost as little as £2.80 used on Amazon if you’re in the UK) and having a read through. As a fan of the Chaos Walking trilogy, I think it’s only natural to be sceptical about the movie adaptation or even scared as to how it might turn out. Generally speaking I think the consensus for movie adaptations is that more often than not, the books are better. This I think is usually down to the leniency books have in that they’re not limited to the amount of story that they can tell or the pages they can contain, whereas a movie, especially one made for cinema viewing, has rules to the length it can be. Now these books aren’t exactly Lord Of The Rings in terms of popularity and with those movies being 3-4 hours long each as a result of one book, I can’t see Chaos Walking as a singular movie from three books really trying to be pushed to that long. Rather I can see this movie totalling around an hour and half to possibly two and a half hours at a stretch. So we’re bound to get a lot of condensed story telling and I suppose that’s just what happens when you adapt a book into a movie and is the reason a lot of people say “the book was better” to a lot of these adaptations. Maybe if there was one movie dedicated to each book, the story might be told a bit better. However this isn’t the case and a format like that might even hinder the success and enjoyment of the movie. Let’s talk about casting. As star-studded as it is I would particularly like to talk about the two main characters: Todd and Viola played by Tom Holland (Spider-Man: Homecoming) and Daisy Ridley (Star Wars: The Force Awakens). I like these people as actors and in the right circumstances I think they could work well together. Despite this though, I wonder if this is the right circumstance. Their characters in these books are supposed to be, by our own standards, children (or very early teens, to put it another way). Now I understand that casting children/young teens in movies, especially as the main characters, is a tough business because more often than not, they aren’t any good. However the fact that this movie has cast a 21 year old and a 25 year old as characters who are supposed to be around 14 years old is something I can’t imagine I’ll take to and it’s not even as though they could dance around this fact because the age of the characters is so integral to the plot of this series. If this factor was however taken away then I would be incredibly disappointed. There is no way I would be able to suspend disbelief enough to reasonably accept these two actors, who are in their own respects incredibly talented individuals, as young teenagers. There would have to be something major done to the appearance of these actors for me to think they looked the part because just looking at the only picture I can find of the movie, I couldn’t look at it and say they looked like 14 year old’s.

Another factor I believe will be incredibly difficult to replicate and also another very important plot point (as it’s really one of the key aspects of the books) is the communication of the Noise (or the physical and auditory manifestation of the thoughts of men). This is going to be a movie that will not be able to have a quiet moment as long as it’s running. Because for the most part, the atmosphere is filled with Noise. I’m incredibly curious and confused as to how Liman thinks he’ll be able to pull this off. Not only the Noise itself but the spoken words of characters in contrast with the surrounding Noise; how he’ll choose to control the volume and prominence of each sound. It is stated early on in the first book that specific Noise depends on the people or animals it comes from. For example, in the swamp it is said to be “quiet” however this is only in comparison to the volume from the town. In the pub, it is easy to hear the Noise from outside because of the people inside it; so loud in fact it is remarked upon that even the music the pub is playing is overpowered by the Noise of those inside. As well as volume control, I wonder how Liman will tackle the personality of each characters’ Noise. Each character emits Noise that is unique to them and what they’re thinking. Some Noise is loud and messy and some thoughts overpower others from the same person resulting in a scramble of sound that although can be distinguished, is also muddled as if people are talking over one another. Other Noise however can be neat and orderly from the men who’ve learned and trained to control it. My issue with this is that, though this contrast is portrayed well in the books, I’m unsure of how it would work in a movie when portraying perhaps: a character that, though their Noise was quite jarred and on paper was physically wobbly, had it in one track in order to convey a solid and coherent message to another character prominently over the rest of his Noise. In comparison to possibly: a character such as the Mayor, of whom is explicitly in control of his own Noise, so much so that the physical wording on paper is very neat and tidy in order to show this. In terms of how characters are portrayed, I like them in the books very much and I like that the stories are told in first person. However I do acknowledge that the way in which certain things are said aren’t considered proper English as the books are littered with spelling errors and words that are pronounced wrong because it’s told in first person by a character whom cannot read well and was never properly educated. In the movie, I feel this is a factor that can’t be overlooked and as a result of this might result in clunky dialogue and conveyance in a way that might get annoying.

Surely there’s always an internal struggle within readers when they discover their favourite book is being adapted to a movie. As a fan and someone who has invested time and love into reading these works of artistic literature, you want the movie to be good (if you even want it made at all). More than that, you want it to be fantastic. It should be true to the source material and I would expect the people involved in making it to have as much passion for the books as I (as well as other readers) do or that the author had for writing them. I want Chaos Walking to be as good as it can possibly be and I want it to reflect the books. Obviously not word for word and shot for shot but I want this movie helmed by someone who loves the books and has read them all cover to cover and having been almost 10 years since the first book ‘The Knife Of Never Letting Go’ was published, I see no reason as to why that is not ample time to get to know each book intimately. As well as this, I would hope that Patrick Ness himself had a say in what was happening in the movie instead of taking a back seat and letting the director get on with it. Chaos Walking, to me, isn’t a movie I think needs to be made. It works well as a series of books and I don’t know how it will break from them to condense into one movie. However I hope I’m proved wrong and that it goes on to be an amazing piece of cinema like it has the potential to be. I just don’t want to see it done poorly (because I will see this movie) or mismanaged. The story of these books is wonderfully original and I enjoyed reading every page so I’m interested in how the movie will differ from others to set itself apart by use of the cinematography, editing, acting, colour use, etc. Because it deserves to be set apart from everything else purely by story alone. Now I don’t have a lot of experience with Doug Liman as a director. I have seen Edge Of Tomorrow, which I thought was good though not hugely original and I’ve seen Jumper which was... Well that wasn’t too great let’s be honest. Liman is also directing Marvel’s Gambit to be released next year as well which I am also excited for. Hopefully they both turn out great and aren’t hurt by the other in terms of how much dedication Liman shows each of them in order to make them the best they can be.

In summary and in truth, I am scared for Chaos Walking as a movie but I am also intrigued and hopeful. I just want the trilogy to be done justice and I’m excited to see how it’s done. I know I’ve not given a lot away in terms of what the story is about but as I said, this isn’t a review; I just wanted to be able to articulate my thoughts on the matter. If you’ve read this far then I thank you and I ask: what are your thoughts on this upcoming movie as a concept? If you’ve read the books, are you excited for Chaos Walking? Do you hate the idea and just want them to stay as books? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

#Chaos Walking #movie #books #trilogy #thoughts #The Knife Of Never Letting Go #The Ask And The Answer #Monsters Of Men #Patrick Ness #Doug Liman #Tom Holland #Daisy Ridley

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