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otome-on-the-side · 3 years

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Courting a Boxed Lunch

Pairing: Lucifer/AFAB!reader

Genre: Smut

TWs: Oral sex, Semi-Public Sex

Word Count:1657

Ao3 Mirror

You had had it up to here with the first born. Lots of things about Lucifer got under your skin; his arrogance, for one. The fact that he constantly made up arbitrary rules when annoyed. He was incredibly bossy, and often demanded perfection on the first command. His face was far too perfect, and every time his mouth curled up into a knowing grin you wanted to deck him. The fact that he dressed like a Victorian that hated jackets, but enjoyed the idea of them. The fact that he has a perpetual stick up his ass and was an utter buzzkill to boot. The fact that he’d banned you from being on school grounds post any school council activities.

Which was ridiculous. He and his brothers stayed for student council meeting well into the night; there was no reason for such a rule to exist. You could see the logic to such a rule; all things considered, it was dangerous for you to be anywhere outside of the house of lamentation unaccompanied. But due to the very nature of how long lasting those stupid school council meetings were, there wasn’t really any point to having it in the first place!

Even though it was late- it felt late anyhow; you weren’t going to waste the mental energy on reading universal time- you felt in your bones that chances were high one of the brothers were still skulking around the school grounds. You just hadn’t bothered to see which were going to stick around late. You had a potion project to figure out and very limited time to work on it, dammit! And of the eldest got upset about you finishing schoolwork, well-

“Lucifer can suck my dick,” you mutter, not noticing said demon has been quietly looming behind you for the past five minutes.

“If you insist,” he responds.

He smirks when you nearly jump out of your skin.

You keep your eyes from his as you feel your cheeks flush. You don’t have any real retort for that; you already have a pretty good idea of what Lucifer looks like on his knees. You wouldn’t mind putting him to work there as well.

“Just long have you been standing there?” you ask.

“Long enough to hear you muttering to yourself for the past couple of minutes. Do you have any specific requests, dear?”

As you face the table with a roll of your eyes, you can feel him come closer; the feel his breath fanning across the back of your neck, his arms resting on the table’s edge on either side of you, caging you in place. You can’t hold back the shiver than runs down your spine, and you feel him chuckle against your skin in response.

“You realize how late it is?” He murmurs in your ear.

You scramble for a thought, to keep your response cool despite how hot your face is. “… Vaguely. Today’s the only day I could rent the potions lab out.”

Lucifer’s close enough that you can feel his befuddled blink.

“You were here for a project?”

“Why else would I deliberately brake one of your many, many rules? Frankly, you giving me grief over grades just barely outweighs the grief I get from rule breaking.”

“Only because you are so used to breaking my rules.”

“Only because you have so many.” You counter. You let yourself lean back a little, onto his shoulder.

“Do I?” He counters back. He lifts a hand from the table to cradle your jaw. “I might be in the mood to bend a few at the moment.”

‘That’s another thing,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Lucifer has absolutely no right to be this pent up.’

You merely hum in response to his sultry tone. Carefully, you move out of his hold, and you put the more volatile potion ingredients in back within the treys you had brought to the table.

Lucifer lets out a displeased huff, but lets you clean up after yourself.

“I never said you had to stop working on your classwork.”

“Some of these are incredibly volatile and hard to work with, even for demons. I’m not going to compromise lab safety so far as to find out what nasty effects these solutions and such could have on me with reckless bending.” You sink enough suggestion into your tone that you can see a hint of something turn on into a full-on gleam.

“Would you like any help?” He offered.

You pause to stopper a vial, peering over your shoulder at what you have to put away and then back to Lucifer. The fact that he’s always wearing gloves is… helpful in this instance. “If you don’t mind the possibility of your gloves getting ruined, and wearing some goggles, sure.”

Cleanup went faster with his help, somehow. He didn’t need to look up where things went, and his movements were smooth and quick, which probably helped. As you watched him out of the corner of your eye, you marveled at Lucifer’s efficiency. Not a moment was wasted as he went through his tasks.

“Still considering the request you made earlier?” He asked as he put away the last of your ingredients.

You made a show of pausing, as if considering. “Maybe.”

Lucifer turned towards you, watchful and attentive.

“You looked so cute kneeling the other day,” You continued in a wistful tone. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you do it again; but this time, for me.”

When you turned, Lucifer was less than a hand’s width away, kneeling down on the lab floor before you.

You stall him a little by cradling his jaw, forcing him to look you in the eye. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“How could I deny such a simple request from my master?” You really wish he didn’t pair what should have been a sweet, earnest statement with a shit eating grin and sarcastic tone, even as his hand cradled yours over his jaw. His other hand rested on your hip, playing with the waistband of your uniform.

You give him a nod as permission, and that’s all he needs.

Lucifer’s hand leaves yours, and he hooks both thumbs under the waistband of your uniform and your underwear; pulling both down far enough that he can spread your legs with no hindrance.

Reverently, he guides your hand to his shoulder, encouraging you to hold onto him. You comply, gripping onto his uniform jacket as he hooks one of your now bare legs over his shoulder. It’s a little scary when he suddenly rises, but you feel supported as his hands cradle your ass to support your weight, depositing you on the edge of the recently wiped down lab table with ease.

Between the chill of the lab itself and the stone tabletop sapping the warmth from your bare skin, you couldn’t help shivering. Lucifer pressing a kiss to your abdomen as he looked up at you with hooded eyes definitely didn’t help. He had no trouble hooking your other leg over his shoulder.

You didn’t bother holding in your pleased sigh as Lucifer trailed downward, spreading your legs to give the demon more room. He groans as he licks over your slit, and you can’t resist tangling a hand into his hair. You have no hope of prying him off yourself at this point, but it’s nice to be able to scrape your nails against his scalp.

His wet kisses over your pussy and suckling at your clit sound so loud in the quiet lab, even with all the noises Lucifer pulls from you with ease, combined with all the pleased sounds of a demon enjoying his meal with gusto.

You cursed as another wave of pleasure rolled through you, toes curling as Lucifer continued his ministrations, and well. Communication was important during times like this; you wanted him to be sure you were enjoying yourself. “Thank you,” you choked out.

You could feel that smug, knowing smirk curling against your skin, and you immediately lock your legs around his head, keeping him close as you hiss, “Fuck. You are such a smug asshole.”

He stilled to look up, still smirking as he spoke against your core, “What happened? You were behaving so well.”

You swung your heel, kicking him in the back. “You get good behavior when you earn it.”

His grip on your thighs tightened at your tone and rough treatment, but with a pleased growl, Lucifer went back to work.

He has no qualms doing his damndest to make your own slick drip down his chin; his tongue toyed with your entrance before delving deeper in earnest. His uneven breathing fanned over your cunt as he looked up at you, debauched and drinking in every reaction as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

When he pulls his tongue out, there’s no disguising the squelching noise of your pussy gripping the muscle- or your whimper as the teasing action just makes you feel all the more empty.

When he returns his attention to your clit, it doesn’t take long for all those waves of pleasure to crest and crash over you, your legs trembling, and hands pulling harder on Lucifer’s hair- now thoroughly mussed at this point- and to grind his face against your cunt as you chase after your high.

All while he kisses down to your entrance and drinks down every last drop of your pleasure. As your orgasm abates, Lucifer dutifully continues until you’re overstimulated, only stopping when you push him away. He abides by resting his chin on your thigh.

“Thank you,” you say, still a little breathless.

You said it because, even though this was as much what Lucifer wanted, he’d taken being pushed around- by a human, no less- very well.

“Any time you wish.” His voice is soft and full of adoration as you gently comb his ruined hair from his eyes.

#obey me smut #obey me! shall we date? smut #obey me lucifer smut #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #x reader #obey me lucifer x reader smut #text #the writing process for this was inch resting

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tazmuir · 5 years

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Hello! I loved Gideon the Ninth so much!! and would like to draw fan art, would you mind sharing any helpful summaries of what each character looks like? or must us fans hunt through the book for every offhand line of description? (not that I'm not planning on rereading it anyway)

I have let myself drift back onto Tumblr after two weeks, am deeply affrighted and excited at the idea that anyone has drawn my kids (I had an AMA on Reddit and as said there, my editor every so often hollered into my inbox about amazing shit people were doing, but I was too busy complaining back to him that my face had gone numb and that I no longer slept, but instead the darkness of the grave claimed me for four to five hours each night). Thank you so much to anyone who has already done this. Many people on my team have yelled and yelled.

Back early on in the piece I made a document for him about what characters looked like in terms of basic ideas/outlines for copyediting, covers and sense purposes, and I’ve dug out that document and slapped it up here for general delectation. As a note: I imagine specific things when it comes to my characters (I am a Kiwi: I write Kiwis In Space as a default) but as I have nothing but joy in my heart for how anyone would want to draw these characters, feel free to glance over this, then toss it out the window. It would bring tears of beauty to my eyes if anyone was like “Yes, but when I was reading I imagined Naberius Tern as a huge monitor lizard,” because absolutely yes, Naberius Tern was just a huge monitor lizard, godspeed.

I had only described below the specific cavalier-necromancer pairs, so that’s what you’ll find below, sorry if anyone wanted Teacher.

SECOND HOUSE

The only ones who seemed even vaguely compos mentis were the Second House: as it turned out, they had been the ones to call Teacher to the access hatch, and now they sat ramrod-straight and resplendent in their Second-styled Cohort uniforms, all scarlet and white. They both affected the same tightly-braided hairstyle and the same amount of extremely gilt braid, and also the same serious-business expression, and they could be told apart by one having a rapier and one quite a lot of pips at her collar.

Captain Judith Deuteros and Lieutenant Marta Dyas are alike in posture, bearing and extremely crisp military uniform (think a cross between US Navy whites and the Regency navy). Unlike every single other necromancer on the cast, Judith never wears necromancer robes, but is dressed in the exact same way as Marta. Judith is somewhat less completely scrawny than other necromancers on the cast, though she should be less built than Marta is; Judith is imposing, solemn-faced and reflective, Marta is more keen-eyed and restless. I imagined both as Tongan.

THIRD HOUSE

[Coronabeth] was tall and regal, with some radiant, butterfly quality – her shirt was haphazardly tucked into her trousers, which were haphazardly tucked into her boots, but she was all topaz and shine and lustre. All necromancers affected robes in the same way cavaliers affected swords, but she hadn’t tucked her arms into hers, and it was a gauzy, gold-shot, transparent thing floating out around her like wings. There were about five rings on each hand and her earrings would’ve put chandeliers to shame, but she had an air of wild and innocent overdecoration, of having put on the prettiest things in her jewellery box and then forgetting to take them off. Her buttery hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, and she kept tangling a curl of it in one finger and artlessly letting it go.

The second twin was like someone had taken the first to pieces and put her back again without any genius. She wore a robe of the same cloth and colour, but wore it like a very beautiful shroud on a mummy. The cavalier had lots of hair, an aquiline face, and a self-satisfied little jacket.

Coronabeth is massive, taller even than Palamedes, larger-than-life – statuesque, very bright gold hair, golden/bright skin, violet eyes. Ianthe is the same height but gangly and washed out. Skin colour defined heavily in Corona’s case as golden/olive-hued brown/tanned; Ianthe similar, but less radiant/more pallid whatever the case. Both have long hair: Corona’s should be big and bouncy, Ianthe’s flat/sleek.Naberius is shorter than both, brown-haired (brown can be light, medium or dark, it’s not defined) and blue-brown hazel eyes. Also has lots of hair, cut short, but sense of pompadour/waves. I imagined all three as Pakeha/white.FOURTH HOUSEBoth Isaac and Jeannemary are around fourteen and have pretty much the same body shape still: Jeannemary is semi-muscular and has lots of corners, Isaac is skinnier. Both are natural brunettes, though Isaac has bleached hair (orange, fauxhawk) and Jeannemary is described as having curly hair. Both have multiple ear piercings and eyeliner and the visual is somewhat Glassons storecard punk. Both have dark brown eyes. Jeannemary has a somewhat dusty, fierce, monochromatic appearance (brown hair, brown skin), and I imagine her as Māori. Isaac I imagined as NZ Chinese.FIFTH HOUSEMagnus Quinn is a man in his middling to late thirties, with short, curly hair: he is a frank-faced, nice-looking guy of medium build with a face inclined to wholesome smiles. His outfits should be absolutely exceptionally well-tailored and not very flashy. Imagined him as Samoan. His wife Abigail is perpetually neat, wears round spectacles and has long, glossy dark brown hair – she is the least described of a cast not very specifically described. Much like Magnus, she should always be beautifully and tastefully dressed, though in her case she would affect trousers as well as a robe. Imagined her as Pakeha/white.

SIXTH HOUSECrouching in front of the hatch was a rangy, underfed young man: he was wrapped in a grey cloak and the light glinted on the spectacles slipping down his nose. Standing next to him holding a big wedge of broken sculpture and the flashlight was a tall, equally grey-wrappered figure with a scabbard outlined at her hip. She had hair of an indeterminate darkness, cut blunt at her chin.Up close, he was gaunt and ordinary-looking, except for the eyes. His spectacles were set with lenses so thick they could make spaceflight grade, and through these his eyes were a perfectly lambent grey: unflecked, unmurked, even and clear. He had the eyes of a very beautiful person, and the head of someone with resting bitch face.

Palamedes is seriously underfed with a bony, thin face and glasses: medium brown hair cut short and with no particular thought for aesthetics, dresses just in greys, eyes particularly lovely clear grey. Camilla has very dark cold-brown hair – chin-length, straight and with a fringe – dark eyes. She’s compact and has lots of lean muscle, and I imagine her of being Middle Eastern extraction, though due to Sixth House parameters both will be fairly mixed. They’re actually second cousins, so there ought to be a faint resemblance.

SEVENTH HOUSE[Dulcinea] was a slender young thing whose mouth was a brilliant red with blood: her dress was a frivolous concoction of seafoam green frills, and the blood on it seemed more somber against such a backdrop. Her skin seemed transparent – horribly transparent, with the veins at her hands and the sides of her temples a visible cluster of mauve branches and stems. Her eyes fluttered open: they were huge and blue, with velvety brown lashes.

Dulcinea is a girlish woman who looks extremely fragile and sickly, like a neurasthenic Victorian maiden. Eyes should be extremely blue. Hair is light brown in long curls; skin is pale. Pretty in a frivolous, invalid way. Gives the impression of being slight. Outfits should be gauzy and nightgownish. Imagined her as Pakeha/white.

The man who’d put the sword to her neck was uncomfortably buff. He had upsetting biceps. He looked like a collection of lemons in a sack. He didn’t look healthy; he was a dour, bulky young person, whose skin had something of the strange, translucent tinge that the girl’s had. He was waxen-looking in the sunlight […] He was dressed richly, but with clothes that looked as though they’d seen practical wear: a long cape of greyish-green, and a belted kilt and boots. There was a long, shining length of etched chain rolled up and over his arm, and a big one-handed sword hung at his hip.

Protesilaus is massive, buff, and also sort of sickly and indistinct-looking in his colouring – he is described as being made up mainly of muddy, ashen browns. Think Greek warrior, but with no vibrant colouring. Biggest on cast, even bigger than Colum Ash. Imagined him as mixed Pasifika.

EIGHTH HOUSEIt was a pair who were both boys – well – a boy and a man; one was a wan, knife-faced kid dressed in antiseptic whites and useless chainmail you could cut with a fork, it was so delicate. [Silas] was draped in it even down to a kilt, which was strange: necromancers didn’t normally wear that kind of armour, and he was definitely the necromancer. He had necromancer build. […] He gave the impression of being absolutely no fun at all. He was prim and ascetic-looking, and his companion – who was older, a fair bit older than Gideon herself – had the air of the perpetually disgruntled. He was rather more robust, nuggety, and dressed in chippy bleached leathers that looked as though they’d seen genuine use. One finger on his left hand was just a gross-looking stump, which she admired.

Silas is in his teens, has shoulder-length white hair in a braid and dark eyes. He has extremely pale skin, and coupled with the white robes and silver chainmail (all of which somewhat swamp him – he’s sort of slender and purse-mouthed) gives the impression of being arrestingly white all over. Pointy chin, oval face, disapproving expression, a little insubstantial. Colum, his older, larger nephew is much taller, broader and in his early thirties. He has medium brown hair in a short back’n’sides crop, dark eyes, and appears jaundiced in skin tone – he’s very weatherbeaten and tan-skinned, scarred, and though he’s dressed in the same colours he tends to contrast heavily with them and his leather armour is also beaten-up. He looks tatty and ill-used, expression is apathetic or forbidding; Silas always looks perfectly clean, crisp and white. Facially there should be a similarity. They’re both Pakeha, with Silas being significantly the palest person on-cast.

NINTH HOUSEThe light fell on [Harrow’s] painted grey face and black-daubed chin, and her short-cropped, dead-crow-coloured hair. […] She had such a peculiarly pointed little face, high-browed and tippy everywhere, and a slanted and vicious mouth.

Harrow is a scrawny teenage girl with black hair cut short (as befits someone in a monastery) and truly black eyes: she never appears except in black and white skull facepaint. She has a pointed, rather triangular face, not very long, a triangular heart rather than a triangular diamond or oval. She wears black robes and long-sleeved, long-trousered clothes – all black – with no skin showing: the main decoration on this is bones. She wears a corset of rib bones and could have any other bone decoration, which has been written of in the book as bone bangles and multiple bone stud piercings in the ears. She’s more femme-androgynous than outright butch; in Book 1 she’s a bit birdlike and free of specific masc or femme gender markers in terms of outfit or build. I imagined her as being mixed Māori.Gideon is true butch: tall of height – at least, taller than Harrow – extremely, shreddedly fit with the muscular arms of a swordswoman or boxer. She should have a strong-jawed, boyishly pretty face with a big douchebag grin. Cropped hair same as Harrow, except that hers as an oblate is more of an in-your-face mop (could be partly-shaved except that implies more care than Gideon possesses) and is intensely, vividly red. I envision her as mixed Māori, darker-skinned than Harrow. She also wears skull facepaint, though hers tends to be much less careful and baroque than Harrow’s. She often affects a pair of black aviator sunglasses. She wears the same black cloak as Harrow, without any decoration, and a plain black shirt and trousers underneath. Her eyes are an extremely vivid amber with more of a yellow/golden tint than a russet one.

#wild spoiler nobody cared about: camilla and palamedes are second cousins #am I allowed to go look at the art now or will I fall about and die of joy #gideon the ninth #appearances etc #I have not come back to the Internet because my inbox was full and I was afraid. Thank you everyone who has read my book.#Naberius Tern is a monitor lizard in a wig. I'm not good at this #reply #otonin

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

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Welllp These Are Books: the March 2021 Edition

There aren’t even any pictures! Except in that one book where there were pictures! It was weird! This was a weird book month! Back at it again with thoughts and opinions about a whole mess of books that no one explicitly asked for, but I’ve got lots of thoughts and opinions and they only count if I share them on the internet. Seriously, someone let me go to a baseball game soon. Obligatory warning for spoilers and vaguely unhinged rants under the cut. As always, feel free to come tell me what else I should be reading at literally any time ever.

Best Book of the Month Honors Goes to This Book, Even Though They Called It Halftime at a Hockey Game. A Hockey Game!

The Dating Plan by Sara Desai

Daisy Patel is a software engineer who understands lists and logic better than bosses and boyfriends. With her life all planned out, and no interest in love, the one thing she can't give her family is the marriage they expect. Left with few options, she asks her childhood crush to be her decoy fiancé. Liam Murphy is a venture capitalist with something to prove. When he learns that his inheritance is contingent on being married, he realizes his best friend's little sister has the perfect solution to his problem. A marriage of convenience will get Daisy's matchmaking relatives off her back and fulfill the terms of his late grandfather's will. If only he hadn’t broken her tender teenage heart nine years ago… Sparks fly when Daisy and Liam go on a series of dates to legitimize their fake relationship. Too late, they realize that very little is convenient about their arrangement. History and chemistry aren't about to follow the rules of this engagement.

— Ok, it’s important to know that I really did love this book. It hit all my trope-wants. Childhood friends, incredibly stupid misunderstandings, pining, seriously God the pining, fake engagement, BANTER. It was all going great. I was occasionally swooning. They kept making out! And then! THEN. They went to a hockey game. On a date. A fake date. Cool, cool, cool. All tropes, all the time right? Not so fast, internet! Because these self-proclaimed Sharks SUPER FANS referred to intermission as “halftime was coming up.” Halftime! At a hockey game! That’s—that’s not how hockey works! If this hadn’t been “traditionally” published, I probably could have let it slide. But that was not the case. This was a “real” book with, I can only assume, real editors. All of whom saw the words halftime and hockey near each other and we’re like YEAH, PRINT THAT SHIT. I read that at nearly one in the morning and seriously considered waking Justin up to be like CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS IN A REAL BOOK? Anyway, it was still real cute. Everyone lived happily ever after. It made want to eat samosas.

This Book Had Pictures, It Was Weird

Clean Sweep by Ilona Andrews

On the outside, Dina Demille is the epitome of normal. She runs a quaint Victorian Bed and Breakfast in a small Texas town, owns a Shih Tzu named Beast, and is a perfect neighbor, whose biggest problem should be what to serve her guests for breakfast. But Dina is...different: Her broom is a deadly weapon; her Inn is magic and thinks for itself. Meant to be a lodging for otherworldly visitors, the only permanent guest is a retired Galactic aristocrat who can’t leave the grounds because she’s responsible for the deaths of millions and someone might shoot her on sight. Under the circumstances, "normal" is a bit of a stretch for Dina.

And now, something with wicked claws and deepwater teeth has begun to hunt at night...Feeling responsible for her neighbors, Dina decides to get involved. Before long, she has to juggle dealing with the annoyingly attractive, ex-military, new neighbor, Sean Evans—an alpha-strain werewolf—and the equally arresting cosmic vampire soldier, Arland, while trying to keep her inn and its guests safe. But the enemy she’s facing is unlike anything she’s ever encountered before. It’s smart, vicious, and lethal, and putting herself between this creature and her neighbors might just cost her everything.

— So, Ilona Andrews is a name that keeps coming up because when I borrow a book from the library I have to go through Kindle and Amazon is like...here are some other absurd fantasy romances you’d enjoy. Also, one of her other series had been recc’ed to me. Only problem? The first book in that series is the only book in that series not available at my library. So, I was like, ok, I’ll start this one instead. It was...weird. Honestly, it felt like I’d been dropped in the middle of the story and the narrator was like, well why don’t you already know what’s going on? In theory the world building was cool. (I was not expecting alien werewolves, lemme tell you that!) But also it all felt very rushed and the end just sorta happened.

In Which I Continue to Love “Same Verse” Books & No One Else Had Sex in the Port Jeff High School Dugout. For Which I Was Grateful

Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey

Rosie and Dominic Vega are the perfect couple: high school sweethearts, best friends, madly in love. Well, they used to be anyway. Now Rosie’s lucky to get a caveman grunt from the ex-soldier every time she walks in the door. Dom is faithful and a great provider, but the man she fell in love with ten years ago is nowhere to be found. When her girlfriends encourage Rosie to demand more out of life and pursue her dream of opening a restaurant, she decides to demand more out of love, too. Three words: marriage boot camp.

Never in a million years did Rosie believe her stoic, too-manly-to-emote husband would actually agree to relationship rehab with a weed-smoking hippie. Dom talking about feelings? Sitting on pillows? Communing with nature? Learning love languages? Nope. But to her surprise, he’s all in, and it forces her to admit her own role in their cracked foundation. As they complete one ridiculous—yet surprisingly helpful—assignment after another, their remodeled relationship gets stronger than ever. Except just as they’re getting back on track, Rosie discovers Dom has a secret... and it could demolish everything.

— Listen, one of my absolutely favorite tropes that I do not think gets enough love in the world is COMMITTED LONG-LASTING RELATIONSHIPS. And, like, ok, sure the premise of this was that they were separating in that long-lasting relationship. But no one really believed that, did they? Rosie and Dominic were real cute and their banter was good and I wasn’t totally skeeved out when they literally fucked on the kitchen floor. So, I think that’s saying something. Also, also! I seriously appreciated the realism of this book because no one on Long Island would ever call Manhattan Manhattan. It’s the city. Every other borough gets a name, but Manhattan is just the city and I nearly cheered when they said that. But also, no one’s taking a cab from Port Jeff to the Meatpacking District. You know what that would cost? God.

Tools of Engagement by Tessa Bailey

Hair, makeup, clothing, decor... everything in Bethany Castle's world is organized, planned, and styled to perfection. Which is why the homes she designs for her family's real estate business are the most coveted in town. The only thing not perfect? Her track record with men. She's on a dating hiatus and after helping her friends achieve their dreams, Bethany finally has time to focus on her own: flip a house, from framework to furnishings, all by herself. Except her older brother runs the company and refuses to take her seriously.

When a television producer gets wind of the Castle sibling rivalry, they’re invited on Flip Off, a competition to see who can do the best renovation. Bethany wants bragging rights, but she needs a crew and the only member of her brother's construction team willing to jump ship is Wes Daniels, the new guy in town. His Texas drawl and handsome face got under Bethany's skin on day one, and the last thing she needs is some cocky young cowboy in her way.

As the race to renovate heats up, Wes and Bethany are forced into close quarters, trading barbs and biting banter as they remodel the ugliest house on the block. It's a labor of love, hate, and everything in between, and soon sparks are flying. But Bethany's perfectly structured life is one kiss away from going up in smoke and she knows falling for a guy like Wes would be a flipping disaster.

— It should first be noted that in the three books of this series, I could not and cannot understand why Bethany’s brother was such a monumental dick. He was just...he was a dick. His marriage was awful. How long was his wife pregnant without him knowing???? I digress. This continued to be cute, Bethany was a legit heroine as far as those rom-com things go, Wes was very Texas and that got a little over the top, but they had sex in a bed like normal people so that helped. Oh, except that one time on the construction site. Whatever, this book was cute. This whole series was cute, really, and I was a big fan of the happy little wrap-everything-up with a bow ending.

Romance That Happens In Point Two Seconds Is...Unbelievable

Too Hot to Handle by Tessa Bailey

The road trip was definitely a bad idea. Having already flambéed her culinary career beyond recognition, Rita Clarkson is now stranded in God-Knows-Where, New Mexico, with a busted-ass car and her three temperamental siblings, who she hasn't seen in years. When rescue shows up---six-feet-plus of hot, charming sex on a motorcycle---Rita's pretty certain she's gone from the frying pan right into the fire . . . Jasper Ellis has a bad boy reputation in this town, and he loathes it. The moment he sees Rita, though, Jasper knows he's about to be sorely tempted. There's something real between them. Something raw. And Jasper has only a few days to show Rita that he isn't just for tonight---he's forever.

— For as much as I loved the Port Jeff series by my new pal Tessa, this one was...oof. Too much, guys. Too much. Fucking in trucks. Fucking in back offices. The whole book lasted, like, three days. And keep in mind this is coming from someone who has written like two million words about Killian Jones, self-loathing champ 250 years running, but Jasper’s self-loathing was a little over the top. Like, let’s not objectify dudes, but also...I don’t know guys. Maybe the other books in the series are better? I was mostly just annoyed by Rita.

What the Hell Happened at the End of This Book?? Seriously, I Have No Idea

The Queen’s Assassin by Melissa de la Cruz

Caledon Holt is the kingdom's deadliest weapon. No one alive can best him in speed, strength, or brains, which is why he's the Hearthstone Guild's most dangerous member. Cal is also the Queen's Assassin, bound to her by magic and unable to leave her service until the task she's set for him is fulfilled. Shadow of the Honey Glade has been training all her life to join the Guild, hoping that one day she'll become an assassin as feared and revered as Cal. But Shadow's mother and aunts expect her to serve the crown as a lady of the Renovian Court. When a surprise attack brings Shadow and Cal together, they're forced to team up as assassin and apprentice. Even though Shadow's life belongs to the court and Cal's belongs to the queen, they cannot deny their attraction to each other. But now, with war on the horizon and true love at risk, Shadow and Cal will uncover a shocking web of lies that will change their paths forever.

—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED AT THE END OF THIS BOOK??? I figured out the so-called twist like...two chapters in. Fine, ok, whatever. It’s YA, this is not rocket science and I was interested enough in Cale and Shadow to see how it all played out. Only it didn’t really play out! Because the whole end was just this like four chapter retcon of basically EVERYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENED and I genuinely could not believe it was happening. It didn’t make sense?!? Like with the plot? Also, spoiler, good thing Shadow and the other king haven’t consummated their marriage yet since she and Cale totally fucked after her wedding? What is YA? Why is Amazon telling me this is a Teacher’s Pick? Why hasn’t my hold come through on the sequel yet so I know what happens next?

Low-Stakes Romance Was Real Boring and All The People Were Boring In It

The Ten Rules for Faking It by Sophie Sullivan

As birthdays go, this year’s for radio producer Everly Dean hit rock-bottom. Worse than the “tonsillectomy birthday.” Worse than the birthday her parents decided to split (the first time). But catching your boyfriend cheating on you with his assistant? Even clichés sting. But this is Everly’s year! She won’t let her anxiety hold her back. She’ll pitch her podcast idea to her boss. There’s just one problem. Her boss, Chris, is very cute. (Of course). Also, he's extremely distant (which means he hates her, right? Or is that the anxiety talking)? And, Stacey the DJ didn’t mute the mic during Everly’s rant about Simon the Snake (syn: Cheating Ex). That’s three problems. Suddenly, people are lining up to date her, Bachelorette-style, fans are voting (Reminder: never leave house again), and her interest in Chris might be a two-way street. It’s a lot for a woman who could gold medal in people-avoidance. She’s going to have to fake it ‘till she makes it to get through all of this. Perhaps she’ll make a list: The Ten Rules for Faking It.

— I am a broken record. Shouting. From the highest hilltop. Just because you think someone is cute when you’re technically not supposed to be dating them does not mean you get to be anything less than nice around them! It’s not cute! And part two, which often goes with part one: rom com dudes have GOT to stop lying or hiding or otherwise avoiding telling people who they really are. It’s a convoluted, passably lazy way of writing and dropping a third-act bomb on the story. Don’t do it. Stop doing it. We’ve moved past the need for hidden identities. Unless he’s, like, a spy or something. Um...this was a weird book. I know Everly had anxiety and that became a PLOT POINT, patent pending, but she was also not super relatable? Which is crazy considering my very real, rather undiagnosed anxiety. Chris was boring. The whole plot, as this title suggests, was very low stakes and no one actually seemed to remember that their jobs were ever on the line? Did Everly and Chris have a conversation before they decided they liked each other? Who can say, really.

Shipped by Angie Hockman

Between taking night classes for her MBA and her demanding day job at a cruise line, marketing manager Henley Evans barely has time for herself, let alone family, friends, or dating. But when she’s shortlisted for the promotion of her dreams, all her sacrifices finally seem worth it. The only problem? Graeme Crawford-Collins, the remote social media manager and the bane of her existence, is also up for the position. Although they’ve never met in person, their epic email battles are the stuff of office legend. Their boss tasks each of them with drafting a proposal on how to boost bookings in the Galápagos—best proposal wins the promotion. There’s just one catch: they have to go on a company cruise to the Galápagos Islands...together. But when the two meet on the ship, Henley is shocked to discover that the real Graeme is nothing like she imagined. As they explore the Islands together, she soon finds the line between loathing and liking thinner than a postcard. With her career dreams in her sights and a growing attraction to the competition, Henley begins questioning her life choices. Because what’s the point of working all the time if you never actually live?

— YOU NEED TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH SOMEONE TO DECIDE YOU LIKE THEM. AUTHORS REALLY REALLY NEED TO LEARN HOW TO BUILD ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS. IF THEY ONLY LIKE EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY KISS WELL IT’S NOT A GOOD RELATIONSHIP. AND THIS IS COMING FROM ME. Back at it again with the annoying so-called heroine who was just...occasionally real mean to Graem for no reason at all? Also her name was Henley. Which is not a great reason to dislike her, but here we are.

Apparently I Read These Books Out Of Order. Who Knew?

Pride, Prejudice and Other Flavors by Sonali Dev

It is a truth universally acknowledged that only in an overachieving Indian American family can a genius daughter be considered a black sheep.

Dr. Trisha Raje is San Francisco’s most acclaimed neurosurgeon. But that’s not enough for the Rajes, her influential immigrant family who’s achieved power by making its own non-negotiable rules:

· Never trust an outsider

· Never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s political aspirations

· And never, ever, defy your family

Trisha is guilty of breaking all three rules. But now she has a chance to redeem herself. So long as she doesn’t repeat old mistakes.

Up-and-coming chef DJ Caine has known people like Trisha before, people who judge him by his rough beginnings and place pedigree above character. He needs the lucrative job the Rajes offer, but he values his pride too much to indulge Trisha’s arrogance. And then he discovers that she’s the only surgeon who can save his sister’s life.

As the two clash, their assumptions crumble like the spun sugar on one of DJ’s stunning desserts. But before a future can be savored there’s a past to be reckoned with...

A family trying to build home in a new land.

A man who has never felt at home anywhere.

And a choice to be made between the two.

— Surprise, apparently this was the first book in the series. I did not know. It didn’t affect my enjoyment of the Persuasion version in this same ‘verse, which is also strange because I liked the Persuasion one way better. There was a lot of medical in this. And not super uplifting medical, either. This was like...oh the Jane character (I guess???) has cancer and either she’s going to go blind after having a surgery (also she was an artist, so you see how this was a problem) or she’s just going to decide to die. Wait, what? That came out of left field, really. Also DJ and Trisha were not nice to each other. Like, I know this is Pride and Prejudice so there has to be some of that at the start, but it wasn’t like Trisha ever really went through the Darcy-required time at Pemberly. She just decided she liked DJ and told him and it was as awkward as Jane Austen intended it, but then we got more medical and everything was cool. It felt very rushed and shoehorned into a modern setting and the Persuasion one was better. You can’t have Darcy’s growth without the Pemberly stuff. You just can’t.

In Which I Didn’t Like a Nickname??? Is the World Ending??

Crazy Stupid Bromance by Lyssa Kay Adams

Alexis Carlisle and her cat café, ToeBeans, have shot to fame after she came forward as a victim of a celebrity chef’s sexual harassment. When a new customer approaches to confide in her, the last thing Alexis expects is for the woman to claim they’re sisters. Unsure what to do, Alexis turns to the only man she trusts—her best friend, Noah Logan. Computer genius Noah left his rebellious teenage hacker past behind to become a computer security expert. Now he only uses his old skills for the right cause. But Noah’s got a secret: He’s madly in love with Alexis. When she asks for his help, he wonders if the timing will ever be right to confess his crush. Noah’s pals in The Bromance Book Club are more than willing to share their beloved “manuals” to help him go from bud to boyfriend. But he must decide if telling the truth is worth risking the best friendship he’s ever had.

— If Noah was going to call her Lexa, then her name should have been Alexa and not Alexis. That’s it and that’s all. Also, the story was n u t s. Estranged dads and kidney failure and they got together so fast in this book. Which usually is cool by me, but I really could not get over the nickname and the estranged family was mean to Alexis. Lexa. HER NAME SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALEXA, IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Also Noah was a former hacker? The estranged family accused him corporate espionage or something? A lot happened in this book, guys. Her name should have been Alexa.

Dumb Brother Was Dumb™ Everyone Else Was Real Cute

The Off Limits Rule by Sarah Adams

I have found rock bottom. It's here, moving in with my older brother because I'm too broke to afford to live on my own. It's okay though, because we've always been close and I think I'm going to have fun living with him again.   That is until I meet Cooper...   Turns out, my brother has very strong opinions on the idea of me dating his best friend and is dead set against it. According to him, Cooper is everything I should stay away from: flirtatious, adventurous, non-committal, and freaking hot. (I added that last part because I feel like you need the whole picture.) My brother is right--I should stay away from Cooper James and his pretty blue eyes. He's the opposite of what I need right now.   Nah--who am I kidding? I'm going for it.

— This was cute, mostly mindless fluff. Hit some trope high points, including, obviously, best friends sister. Only the brother in question was a Neanderthal and I really thought people were going to make out more while said brother was on his business trip. I got it for free off Amazon. Which I think should explain a lot. Like, story-wise. Sorry, free Amazon books. Don’t be insulted.

Prose, Prose, Prose, Please Someone Have a Conversation

Trick by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Spring, Poet is renowned. He's young and pretty, a lover of men and women. He performs for the court, kisses like a scoundrel, and mocks with a silver tongue. Yet allow him this: It's only the most cunning and manipulative soul who can play the fool. For beyond the castle walls, Poet guards a secret. One the Crown would shackle him for. One that he'll risk everything to protect. Alas, it will take more than clever words to deceive Princess Briar. Convinced that he's juggling lies as well as verse, this righteous nuisance of a girl is determined to expose him. But not all falsehoods are fiendish. Poet's secret is delicate, binding the jester and princess in an unlikely alliance—and kindling a breathless attraction, as alluring as it is forbidden.

— The purplest of prose. Mauve prose. Royal purple prose. Lavender prose. There was so much writing here. So much. Too much, some might say. I say. Actually. If we want to get specific. And that was a shame, really, because when Briar and Poet actually had a conversation, they were interesting to read about. Also, the world building here? Yeeeesh. The so-called, wait for it, FOOL TRADE played a prominent role and that was...super cringe. Super Cringe. That being said, I asked Justin what I should read next and he thought it was funny that a book was just called...

Dare by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Summer, they say she's wild. Locked in a cage by the sea, Flare dreams of escape. She dreams of a lost world, known only in legends. The island is calling to her. And she won't let anyone keep her from it. Especially not him. They say he's cruel. Jeryn has crossed the ocean for the Trade, to bargain for those fierce, imprisoned creatures that make his skin crawl. By law, they're subjects meant for experimentation. And easy to despise. One girl in particular. But on the cusp of transport, the tide rages. That hidden island awaits. Stranded, the prince and prisoner must fight to survive. In a mysterious rainforest, they must band together...if they don't slay one another first. Or become something more to each other. Something just as dangerous.

— This was Justin’s fault. He could not believe this book was just called Dare. It should have been called “We’re going to weirdly force what is basically slavery into this story and then a prince is going to fall in love with an escaped slave and we’re also going to call that ROMANCE.” y i k e s. Remember that one story that took place over three days? This was the complete opposite. Years! They were shipwrecked for years! They got saved, spoilers, the DAY they started having sex. What are the odds, right?? And then MORE YEARS passed. Multiple years! Five years! They couldn’t actually be together because of that aforementioned slave trade. What the shit, man? Natalia, ya gotta be kidding me with this. The internet claimed Trick was good and a solid follow to reading ACOTAR and that there was this whole verse and it was also good. The internet was wrong.

Nothing Happened, Everything Happened, I...Hated It

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Kristin Cashore’s bestselling, award-winning fantasy Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable-yet-strong Katsa, a smart, beautiful teenager who lives in a world where selected people are given a Grace, a special talent that can be anything from dancing to swimming. Katsa’s is killing. As the king’s niece, she is forced to use her extreme skills as his thug. Along the way, Katsa must learn to decipher the true nature of her Grace… and how to put it to good use. A thrilling, action-packed fantasy adventure (and steamy romance!) that will resonate deeply with adolescents trying to find their way in the world.

— I can’t believe this was a book. Katsa was so annoying! Like, listen, I know her life was sad. And she was a pawn being used against her will. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. The tone of the whole book was so strangely formal and Poe was strangely in love with Katsa? Who obviously didn’t want to get married because she was WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR. Or kill people, as the case may be. Only she wanted to make out with Poe? Only ONLY they didn’t even really get together at the end? I could not believe the end of this book. I nearly threw my Kindle across the room. Once again, no apologies for spoilers because do not read this book, but HE WAS BLIND? Katsa had to leave him behind to save his cousin and he just ENDED UP BEING BLIND? AND THEY NEVER GOT TOGETHER REALLY?? What the fuck? Seriously. Steamy romance, my ass. Nothing happened. The villain got defeated in point two seconds. There are other books in this universe? No, thanks.

#book recommendations #book rec #fantasy recommendations #book recs #laura reads books #this was longer than i realized it was going to be #documentation of a very weird book month #but we're almost back on track now because i am LOVING a darker shade of magic #welllp these are books

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soudam-appreciation · 4 years

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A Special Kind Of Lamp? (3)

TW:: this chapter contains depression and brief/vague mentions of s*icide. Stay safe loves!

. . .

Gundham knew he should get up. His mother had left hours ago for her job, and he felt hunger gnawing at his stomach. Heaving a sigh, he rolled his feet off the edge of his bed and let his body follow. He sat there for a moment, on the floor. The random assortment of objects that lay scattered across his room did not make his position any more comfortable. He contemplated sitting here all day doing nothing, or maybe cleaning up the mess that had been gathering for months, or perhaps even taking a shower (since gods know he could use one). Groaning, he decided against all of those things and stood, trudging out of his darkened cave without even putting on pants.

He glided down the stairs, kicking up a cloud of dust and animal fur with every sullen step. Like a ghost, he wandered through his household, barely registering the pristine condition of the place. Winding his way around the bright Victorian style living spaces, he reached his destination.

He rifled through the pantry, then the fridge, grabbing a single can of soda. Then, opening the freezer, he removed a bag of frozen tater tots and an entire tub of ice cream. Dropping them on the countertop quickly, and shaking the cold from his hands, he pushed the freezer shut with his sockless foot. Not bothering to get a plate, he pulled a spoon from a drawer somewhere and a towel from another and wrapped up the bag of frozen tots. Picking up his items, he began to leave. However, as he took a few steps, he caught a glimpse of a note on the countertop.

"Happy 21st birthday, love!" the note read. "I know you haven't felt right lately, but I thought maybe today you could go out around town! I've left some money for you, in case you want to go out and get anything!"

Gundham sighed. It was sweet of her, for certain, but he didn't know if it was alright to take her money. He certainly had enough of his own, for the time being. But then, on the other hand, was it now expected of him? Was he supposed to go out and about because his mother had both suggested and paid for it?

Lifting his frozen items, he tromped into the main living room and sat on their plush rose sofa. He opened the bag of tots, popping one into his mouth as he contemplated.

He must have spent around 20 minutes munching the solid, ice-cold chunks of potato before halfheartedly making up his mind. Standing, he briefly wondered if that meant his mind was, in fact, not made up, but he brushed that aside and wandered back to the kitchen. When the leftover frozen goods were replaced in the freezer, he scooped the money and note from the counter. Now that life down here was back to the norm, he retraced his earlier steps and returned to his room.

He switched on the light, wincing at how utterly disgusting everything looked when one could see it. The room was quickly returned to darkness.

Snatching a pair of jeans and a ratty band tee from his closet, he changed quickly and tugged on his boots. He didn't want to bother with a shower, he knew he'd lose all energy far too soon. Cold, stiff fingers ran through his greasy, tangled hair, and he considered a hairbrush. No, too much. He had to get outside, spend whatever money he had been given, and return. No need to look nice.

Shoving his arms into a dark jacket that smelled slightly of mildew and was probably a size or two too small, he trotted back down the grand staircase. He grabbed his (majorly unused) car keys from a dish by the door, checked to make certain his phone and the money were both stuffed into his pockets, and opened the door.

The light shining in his face almost made him shriek, but he caught himself and threw his arm before his eyes instead. A sudden and steady hiss pushed from his lungs, and it took far too long for him to snap out of his haze.

When he lowered his shield, he glanced at the too-bright world and rows of houses. He also caught the eye of a small group of children that had probably been playing in the street, before they noticed him. He took a moment longer to understand why he must seem so strange, and why the children were likely staring. To test his suspicion, he bared his teeth and hissed once more, this time at the kids. They scattered, screaming.

Of course, how were they to know he wasn't a vampire?

Already feeling far too strange after this interaction, he stepped fully outside. The warmth of the sun washed over him, and the soft scent of flowers drifted in the breeze. He took a long, deep breath, and closed the door behind him.

He hadn't driven in so long he wasn't sure he remembered how. After a few failed attempts at reversing, thankfully none of which ending in property damage, he finally got out of the garage. Gundham was on the road again.

For the first several minutes, Gundham's average car speed was around 10 mph. He wasn't sure he could keep the car in control if h went much faster, and he had forgotten his wallet and ID at home.

After he had been out and about for about half an hour, the sun was becoming more bearable and he could finally get nearer to the speed limit. He pulled into a parking lot at the local superstore, ending this extra-long car trip with the world's worst parking job. Whispering an apology to whoever may need to park near to him, he locked the vehicle and wove his way into the store.

Entering the building felt like an enormous undertaking. He had to get in, exhaust as much of the money as he could, and get out. Unfortunately, this also meant he had to force himself through aisle after aisle of bright lights and items he had no need for.

He spent twenty minutes simply looking for things to buy, eventually encountering the pet section. Looking only briefly, a deep unease and upset coiled in his chest. His hamsters were the only part of him that he had taken above excellent care of, and even then they had not lived past a few years. He hadn't managed to breed them at that time, and the absence of his always-present companions dampened his spirits considerably.

He pushed on, reminding himself that this was not about his Devas. This was about buying what he could and going home.

Scooping up some shampoo, he wormed through personal care and clothing aisles, ignoring nearly everything on the shelves. He made a beeline for the electronics aisle, certain he could pick something up for a fairly high amount. Unfortunately, he wasn't precisely sure where that was and got turned around quite quickly.

Somehow, he ended up in a deserted and dusty section of the store. The rows of shelves seemed nearly empty, despite being stocked full. The graphics on the packages were mostly faded as if they were quite old compared to the other items in the building. Glancing around for a hint of where he had found himself, a sign hanging above the aisles caught Gundham's eye. Upon it was printed, Old and Discontinued Stock.

Intrigued, he continued through the packed shelves, passing rows of what seemed to be ancient exercise equipment. Rows and rows of items advertising their 'as seen on TV' status in bold red (or rather, pink) spiked bubbles filled his line of sight, and remembering stupid infomercials from his slightly younger years almost made him smile out of sheer annoyance.

As he turned a corner, a slightly different item brought his attention. In large, curly letters, the banner across the front of the box crossed an image of a fairly nondescript lamp, sporting the words LoveLight™. He approached, sliding one box off of the shelf. Turning it around, he hoped to read what exactly it was supposed to do on the back of the box. Fortunately for him, that is exactly where such a description was found.

It seemed to claim something about... connecting soulmates? He wasn't sure how well it could work, but he thought he might as well buy it anyways. It was right about the amount he needed to max out the gift from his mother and return home. He didn't care much about what color the lampshade was, so he carried to the checkout the box he was already holding.

. . .

Tromping up the stairs, he dumped the bag of lamp onto his overcrowded desk. He groaned as a few stray papers slid to the floor. They gathered around the edge, adding to the steep piles of clothes and garbage that littered the area.

He threw himself onto his bed, wrapping his favorite comforter around himself. Today had been longer than expected, and he was exhausted from his excursion, even if it was only an hour and a half. Pulling out his phone, he opened YouTube and began the first video in his feed. He didn't even try to focus as his eyes drifted shut, and sleep overtook him.

. . .

When he stirred, it was long past dark. He groaned, twisting his body sluggishly to be freed from his cocoon-like prison of the blanket. Propping himself up on his elbows, he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. When this attempt was unsuccessful, Gundham rolled back over and tried to return to sleep.

Unfortunately, his blankets were still too tight, and he was made painfully aware of two things. The first was how hot it was; the second was how badly he needed to pee.

He squirmed yet more, struggling to free his arms. When he had at last accomplished this, he slowly peeled the comforter away layer by layer, until he was sitting fully clothed, shoes and all, on his bed. He tugged off his boots, exhaustion numbing his fingers, and slowly began to make his way to the bathroom.

. . .

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he yawned and looked for something to do. The night was often when he was "productive", but tonight he still felt ready to collapse in on himself, like a dying star. What a worthless waste of space he was.

Tonight was certainly not the first night he felt ready to give up. This was, in fact, a near-daily occurrence. However, he knew that his mother would be left alone and that he, too, was far too afraid of what lay beyond, so he instead searched for an occupation for his hands.

He settled upon the plastic bag that contained the boxed “soulmate lamp”. Lifting it, he noted that it felt a bit heavier than before, but attributed this to his cold and tired limbs. Once the box was freed from its thin plastic containment, he searched for an opening.

He examined it, locating the circular sticker that secured the cardboard. Picking at the edges with his overgrown nails, he managed to peel up the side (with great difficulty). The packaging from there was not too difficult to decipher, though it still caused mild annoyance.

Only when the lamp sat undisturbed atop his bedside table did he begin to feel the stirrings of excitement. Before, it had merely been a vessel for assuaging boredom and returning home as quickly as possible, but now it seemed to radiate a faint... hope.

He plugged it in, wincing as the bright light flicked on. Snatching the instructions from their perch beside the lamp, Gundham wrestled with the folded paper to find the directions to dimming the damned thing.

Said directions were fairly simple to find, so when he had saved his eyes from the caustic sheen, he began the calibration process.

The process was long and bothersome, it seemed. First was simple, imputing the kinds of personal information every internet-connected device needs. Each answer was written against the shade with the "specialized" pen, and submission was accompanied by a pleasant blip sound. Then came the long series of questions that needed answering, a process by which the lamp was to determine one's soulmate. This step took the greatest time of the setup, costing him nearly an hour total. If he had had anything else to do, he simply would have given up.

Finally, however, the setup was complete, and he was alerted to this by another small electronic noise. Gundham tossed aside the instructions, groaning audibly as a loading circlet began rotating against the shade. He replaced the pen in its slot at the lamp's base and leaned back against his plush comforter. The loading process took several minutes, as it ran through the extensive database of other questionnaires (or so he assumed, this was never stated in the instructions). It took quite a few minutes, long enough for him to begin to drift off to sleep.

He was awakened by yet another blip sound, this one likely stating that the final stage was complete! He bolted upright, watching the shade warily for any signs of writing.

And then, something appeared.

A hasty message scrawled in sloppy and nearly unintelligible print. It seemed rushed, letters running together on the mesh shade.

"Hi! I just got this thing and I'm super excited to talk to you!!!"

It worked.

He blinked, quietly astonished, amazed that such a device could do much of anything at all. As he sat in the dark, bewildered, another message began to appear.

"I can't wait til you get these. I'm so excited to talk to you!!"

He shook his head, strands of grimy dual-colored hair falling out of place. His chest felt tight, the sensation of someone other than his mother even speaking to him so foreign. Even if the messages did sound as if they were written by a child.

"Hey again! I hope your getting these!"

Fists tightened against wrinkled sheets. Gundham felt his stomach churn, yearning for another message.

"Today was fun! I got to hang at the Skate park! What did you do today?"

Tears pricked at his eyes, the sweetness and innocence in each message rushing over him.

"I don't have many friends. I think when we get to meet we'll be real good friends! Right?"

A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed hard.

"Good morning! I hope you respond soon!"

One single tear dropped from his face, hitting his exposed skin.

"Hey, just seein if youre ok! I had a weird day today :("

They kept coming, messages appearing faster and faster. Was it a backlog? Were these old messages? Gundham wasn't sure.

"Guess what today is? It's my birthday! I'm 14!! How old are you?"

The tears kept coming too, streams of salty liquid flowing freely across his cheeks. He couldn't have stopped it if he tried.

"I wonder what kinds a things you like?"

Messages appeared faster and faster, quickly filling available space across the lampshade.

"I hope ya feel alright today! I still can't wait to talk to you. :)"

Gundham's vision blurred, too much to see the individual messages. Hundreds of letters blurred to nothing but glowing gold clouds, soft light filling, and obscuring, his vision.

The years of isolation began to crumble. He had tried so hard to harden his heart, to erase this feeling of crushing loneliness, and the facade he had so tirelessly built with shaking and scarred hands had started cracking from the pain. He hadn't understood how much he craved this, how desperately he had needed someone to talk to. For someone to ask if he was ok.

His body shook with sobs, ribs splintering under the pressure of the world as golden light flooded his room. Messages poured in, the light now nothing less than a glowing orb in his eyes, but he couldn't look away. He watched as more and more scribbled notes filled his mind, the emptiness usually stored in his chest now replaced with intense hurt. Love was what he needed, friends and company and care were the things he desired so desperately, the things he had never allowed himself to want.

The light began to fade, the most recent messages having used their allotted minutes. He sniffed, scrubbing tears from his eyes with harsh hands, and squinted at the lamp. Choking, he continued to press against his eyes. Perhaps if he tried, he could stop the next wave.

He caught another flicker of light, quickly leaning back toward the device to read whatever was there. Then he watched as, in real time, more words scrawled across the shade.

"Just wanted to say I still love you."

His last chance at holding back was ruined, and again he began to weep. Pushing away just enough to reach for the pen, he grabbed it with shaking fingers and raised it to the shade. Slowly, he pressed the tip against the mesh fabric and began to write.

"I'm so sorry."

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

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Liam & Edie

Liam: [alright so she’s gonna get there super early so the first question is do we want any kind of interaction with his poor mother first or do we save that for later]

Edie: [In my head it’s literally early enough that she could still be asleep but also if it’s the week ‘cos summer, she COULD be going to work, unless she does a moomin and takes it off, so I’m easy with either]

Liam: [yeah I was thinking like it’s technically day 5 but it’s early enough of an arrival you could call it day 4 because we’re extra, so she probably would be asleep but equally, she could’ve woken up early to say happy bday and all that before she has to go to work because I feel like she’d wanna take the day off but he’d be essentially like nah don’t I’ll see you later 1. Because Edie is coming and 2. Because fuck birthdays anyway even before we knew that was a thing that’d be happening]

Liam: [maybe it’s like she was gonna go in and wake him up but surprise we’re already up and chilling in our dead sister’s room and surprise x2 Edie is already here hello]

Edie: [your poor mother, so shooketh, so not prepared for this, at least Edie will be being polite to you because we wanna make a good first impression and we’re not a dick but we are still weird and here at like the arse crack of dawn so hi]

Liam: [at least for our plot purposes she’ll be too caught unawares to spoil the bday secret because up til now his phone wouldn’t be popping off too hard as it’s early and normal people are asleep]

Edie: [can we just take a moment to think about the fact this is the first time actually meeting each other]

Liam: [it blows my mind when I do think about it, honestly, I need to know all about her lewk please because we know how excited you’d be about this gal]

Edie: [I will have to find one because yes, you’ve gotta do your most to be cute]

Liam: [I care very much what colour your hair is and how hard you’re serving even though I know damn well all you’ve done so far is sit on his sister’s floor and talk and talk and TALK because not an exaggeration at all to say he wants to know everything about her, that’s his intense brand]

Liam: [but also what time does the sun come up in late August? Would that be too early to say she arrived before then so they can watch it together like they did the comet]

Edie: [we know we’d show up whenever, try and stop us famalam, so yes that’s definitely a thing we can say happens, I hope you live near-ish though or what time are you setting off from yours hen]

Liam: [ngl if she showed up at 3 or 4am I wouldn’t be surprised and he wouldn’t mind so fill your boots kids, we can totally say he lives close because that isn’t something we’ve given an Ali kid before and like I can see his parents being like the country air and peace and quiet etc will totally help our dying child, as if this is victorian times or whatever]

Edie: [tbf cities are grubby i’m sorrrrrrrrryyy anyway, love that for you, you can live on a busy bit of the countryside, a nice cul-de-sac mayhaps, at least you won’t get murdered lurking in the dark]

Liam: [get on zoopla and find us a cute gaff boo]

Edie: [heheheheh, okay so we know how we’re starting our day, what’s next]

Liam: [I think we’ve just gotta run this and see what pops up as we’re pondering cos y’all are wild could be anything going on, bye to his mum go get ready for work and then go gal you can do some bday cliches when you get back at like 4, Edie’ll know by then, so once his mum has swiftly excited just 👀 because even if you’ve got no feelings it’s super cute that she wants to make a good impression]

Edie: [just smiley blush like what, not commenting on his ma yet ‘cos she didn’t have time to really make an impression so we don’t need to do that ‘can’t have her changing her mind about loving the idea already’]

Liam: [get a bit closer to her so you can look at her even more intensely because she’s being even cuter with her lil blush and smile moment and this was such a good idea thank god ‘don’t change yours either’]

Edie: [just shaking our head hardcore ‘cos can’t speak suddenly]

Liam: [‘she’s not Lexie levels but still off putting, I know’ soz to his poor mum for vaguely giving a shit haha]

Edie: [‘you’ve not met mine’ like probably has on the low but shh the point is we know what all mums are like, in one way or another, ‘yet’ very much implying we cannot be put off tah]

Liam: [‘can I?’ has only just met you and wants to meet your mum, what boy in what universe would ever want that 🚩]

Edie: [my boo says run she says no, nod as enthusiastically purely ‘cos he wants to and we will not be saying no to anything]

Liam: [get even closer to her obvs because she just keeps being adorable with her enthusiasm and he’s obvs about it, just gonna be 👀 a mm away from her face in a sec]

Edie: [at least you can gently pull on the necklace he should be wearing ‘cos sent in the post]

Liam: [and you can kiss better wherever she got hers from even though it’s gonna be healed by now like she made you do at the time]

Edie: [genuinely wasn’t trying to be that bitch but I just googled where heals fastest when cut ‘cos that bitch and he didn’t want pain and bloody drama so and it literally said the mouth LMAO soz Liam I don’t make the rules-]

Liam: [soz not soz that you’re having your first kiss then lads]

Edie: [it’s kinda sweet that you aren’t like, actually kissing, if you know what I mean, like it’s about something else]

Liam: [it’s very pure and very your energy as a couple]

Edie: [you’ll be dying girl but that’s a moment]

Liam: [he genuinely would ask her if she/that was okay because we know she’s not had a boyfriend before because Rio would not stop hammering that point home]

Edie: [we’re so obviously more than okay but likewise not trying to be like OTT and put pressure on him because we’ve been told what Lexie was like, just smile and nod]

Liam: [pull her to her feet and to your room because we’ve not been in there yet but y’all are gonna find this robot dog]

Edie: [get to go through all his childhood things lowkey love that for yous just asking all the questions]

Liam: [and we’re definitely giving it to you which is another moment because he loved it]

Edie: [we’ve gotta pimp that pup up somehow, which is within your wheelhouse deffo ‘what’s he called?’]

Liam: [‘Chip’ and a face like yeah I know I was a kid byeee]

Edie: [just loving on it like a real dog, ‘I fucked with the beast’ ‘cos of course you did lmao]

Liam: [he’s as amused as I was when I read that because of course she did is right, clearly gonna put that film on for her]

Edie: [love that childlike energy for you too, definitely raiding for the good snacks even though it’s so early because why not sugar rush]

Liam: [same because we all know he didn’t get a chill childhood, at least there would be great snacks in because it being his bday and his mum hoping she can rock a birthday tea vibe on the low]

Edie: [sneaky bday energy, god bless, just find out what each others faves are]

Liam: [taking so many cute pics and vids during all this, be jealous everyone]

Edie: [I do have cute bed ones so have a duvet day until the notifs come in]

Liam: [gives him a reason for his phone to be blowing up but that’s not why we’re doing it, he’s just obsessed with the bae’s happiness]

Edie: [I can send them to you if you like]

Liam: [please do]

Edie: [at least you can take his phone under the assumption of taking a picture of him because he’s taken loads of you]

Liam: [and he’s not gonna stop you because he’s not stupid enough to have anything incriminating about stalking your sister on there and obvs isn’t thinking about it being his bday]

Edie: [awkward when you don’t wanna be like oh it’s your birthday but you can’t not be like that because then you’d be acting weird, just pull up whoever’s said happy bday latest like hey but soft]

Liam: [such a genuine shrug like oh yeah that idc]

Edie: [‘why didn’t you tell me?’ but without the 🥺 tone, genuine asking]

Liam: [‘I didn’t want you to know’ true but then you realise how it sounds so ‘it’s pressure on you and it don’t matter to me’]

Edie: [when there is nothing you can say to that but ‘fair enough’ because it is and we’re not gonna force it into a Big Thing ™ ‘we’re still having fun though’ because y’all are that’s facts]

Liam: [‘I can’t remember a birthday this about me’ because we can’t say he’s never had a fun bday ever but he’s never been the centre of attention ‘it is enough, and fun, having you here’]

Edie: [‘that is pressure… without anyone else taking any of the focus at all’ ‘cos we have plenty of siblings so we know what he’s saying, nothing is entirely about you when there’s other kids to still care about, make the robo dog kiss his cheek ‘it can be as fun as you like, and we can stay in all day, or go out too, it’s all up to you’]

Liam: [kiss her on the cheek thank you boy because she’s being a babe]

Edie: [🥰 look as we get up ‘what’s your favourite breakfast?’ like let’s go make that happen]

Liam: [I’m gonna say his fave is a full english/irish because when does anyone ever have the time or energy for all that faff so we can make you feel special here boy]

Edie: [giving you 2 options like we can make it here for you and that could include a shop dash to get all the bits which would be cute OR we can go to a cafe and get it and dine and dash which would also be cute]

Liam: [under duress I am voting for dine and dash because it feels very them and we’ll have loads of time to be domestic when they’re squatting in the holiday cottage etc]

Edie: [then let’s ride lads, the greasiest spoon we can find please]

Liam: [forever a mood]

Edie: [have a cute handhold as you walk, also enjoy the height difference imagine]

Liam: [don’t even I can’t fathom how tall he is, it’s crazy]

Edie: [love that you’re taller than our dad, taller than Buster, flex on ‘em babe you got that reach, it’s very much that picture of ariana and pete ‘cos that’s about y’alls heights lol]

Liam: [not to be that bitch but you would feel so safe and protected like I do get it]

Edie: [and I’m sorry but if you’re even a slightly curvier gal you can’t be with a small lad you feel like you’ll break them lmao]

Liam: [so many gals salty as hell at you rn Edie so soz]

Edie: [you love to see it, don’t get too close or we will fuck you up hens]

Liam: [I’m trying to think if there’s anything else cool they could do while they’re out cos I wanna keep the vibe chill but]

Edie: [we could go to the beach today, or we could find another thing for the ‘main event’ without being like this is what you’re doing for your bday highkey, perhaps something typical childhood birthday like bowling or laser tag that kind of energy]

Liam: [sadly you’re too much a giant to sneak into soft play]

Edie: [yes they usually have an age limit of 10-12 if memory serves and there’s no believing that lmao, although we could force the twins to go at a later date and go in with them]

Liam: [we’ll definitely give you another chance to go]

Edie: [okay so getting a bouncy castle to just put up and then we’re also having jelly and ice cream]

Liam: [green jelly is the best so you can pop off with 👽]

Edie: [i’m gonna try to find vibes deffo]

Liam: [actually love that you’ve gone from hanging out in his house to hanging out in a field and it’s the best birthday he’s had probably ever]

Liam: [kinda wanna let y’all have your first kiss on the bouncy castle but kinda have had that ruined for us by skins]

Edie: [#reclaimit and like, as much as y’all just having a good ass time getting to know each other, the casual tension still]

Liam: [it’s very much NOT a platonic good time and we all know it]

Edie: [we are not here to deny what’s here tah]

Liam: [only question is how far we’re taking it because y’all could hook up on it but you could also not]

Edie: [hmm, on the one hand, we absolutely would ‘cos wanna but on the other, I can see y’all making a slightly bigger thing out of it without you know, lighting candles lol, but you get me]

Liam: [same actually because you’re very romantic]

Edie: [right? Like it’ll deffo be in your way still but it’s your first time both of yas so you can make a thing of it if you bloody well like]

Liam: [and no shade to anyone because I’m not saying they should but not enough of our ships do make it a thing™️ because they just carried away by their feels and hormones lol, he has that degree of restraint, albeit for a sad reason so you might as well use it]

Edie: [no wonder you get so caught up in this babe, casual fairytale]

Liam: [me too gurl, me too, casually too invested in this doomed couple nbd]

Edie: [so sad, soz guys we’re rude]

Liam: [anything else cute we wanna do before your mum gets back and makes you do the cliche bday cake moment and you can get the bae to blow out your candles with you because have all the wishes my love]

Edie: [I think this gives us a good framework for how it’s gonna go, lots of cuteness, doing the least but making it the most]

Liam: [thank god it’s still summer so nobody can force you back home because you’ll both be gutted]

Edie: [fight us fam we clearly aren’t going anywhere, I like to think you got something for his mum whilst out even though it’s probably a bottle of wine neither of you can buy so bit cheeky but still cute]

Liam: [that’s adorable af, his mum can’t be mad we know she knows him and his sister did a lot worse, even if she doesn’t know it all but what does make me laugh is that she’d blatantly not let Edie stay the night because of how obvs underage she is and it’s like oh hun we’ve had many many opportunities to hook up all day but sure]

Edie: [love when parents draw that line, like this is why teens hook up in cars and anywhere else they can, also tis possible in daylight but god bless you for trying hun]

Liam: [so many parents do and there’s literally so many worse things he could be doing and in Liam’s case has done but pop off]

Edie: [oh when this baby is announced lmao sozzzzzzz]

Liam: [she’s gonna be UPSET, but in the now you can walk her home and that’s always cute af]

Edie: [so gentlemanly, also gonna bring you in impromptu to meet Ali like hello mother]

Liam: [the levels he’d just wanna stay because technically not breaking the rules to be over at the cali gaff but contrary to what I just said about baby Libi he doesn’t actually wanna upset his mum so he wouldn’t]

Edie: [we’ll let you be good today, of all days, let me post my ting and know the last pic is like now in a miss you already way]

Liam: [I’m cackling imagining Grace appearing like the extra child she is]

Edie: [curtain-twitching like a baby nosy hoe, I lol]

Liam: [thank god Lexie isn’t really crazy or you’d have to look out for her being at the window too]

Edie: [we ain’t afraid of you it’s definitely the other way round rn]

Liam: [hilarious considering how pure you’ve been all day]

Edie: tell me when you get home

Liam: I don’t want to get home

Edie: If you go somewhere I have to come

Liam: I know 😇 I promise

Liam: I’ll come back for you when it’s a new day

Edie: I’m not wishing this one away, I didn’t

Edie: I don’t want it to end

Liam: me either, but no spoilers or the wish will glitch and we won’t get what we did ask for

Edie: 😶

Edie: and we’ve got to follow the rules or you’ll turn into a 🎃 tonight

Liam: a massive me sized 🎃 do you think or one you could carry round

Edie: I could live in a you sized 🎃 but I’m not sure how comfortable that would be for you

Edie: but what if I dropped you if you were normal sized 😭

Liam: I’ve seen you on a bouncy castle, you’re not clumsy

Edie: despite your best attempts to floor me

Liam: you gave as good

Edie: yeah

Edie: I hope so

Liam: there was no cracking under the pressure

Edie: then you’ll have me back

Edie: and kiss me again

Liam: we can go back for as long as it stays up, then I’ll kiss you somewhere else

Edie: please

Edie: and you felt it

Edie: the kiss, it was more than nothing

Liam: I wouldn't have done it if it was nothing, how I know you feel is important and I'm not gonna hurt you

Edie: I know

Edie: I trust you

Edie: I’m just being annoying trying to make you say it

Liam: you couldn’t annoy me if you was trying, I’m on too big of a high from meeting you

Edie: I had the best day

Liam: I’ve gotta say thanks for today, meaning tomorrow’ll have an edge on it for being all about what you wanna do instead of me getting older

Edie: you don’t

Edie: it was mutual

Edie: you even let me help you blow out your candles

Liam: if I didn’t it’s 🎂 wasted you gave me the best 🎁 by being there, right before you were I still thought you might not show

Edie: a tiny part of me wasn’t sure

Edie: what if it messed everything we’d built up

Edie: but it didn’t

Liam: yeah, that was on my mind too, I’m either too much or not enough when I can’t moderate it how I do online, faker than my 🦎🧠 has got me used to acting, and found out for it sooner

Liam: but it wasn’t like that today

Edie: it’s easier when you can code the best response

Edie: put whatever skin on it works best in that moment

Edie: but this was better than anything I’ve made or seen in cyberspace so far

Liam: your fave 🤖 is a compliment I'll take any time, like

Edie: don’t tell Chip

Liam: he’s got more to rub in my face, he got to stay, I wouldn’t start it

Edie: [pic of him tucked up casually]

Edie: bit smug, tbh

Liam: in the world we just woke him up from I could be 💔😭 he’ll have to try harder now

Edie: [a pic of him up on her titties like mr steal yo gurl]

Edie: 😱😱

Edie: I’m gonna need to train him

Liam: I remember him as naughtier than me

Edie: checks out

Edie: you’re very 😇

Liam: if it was up to him you’d be sleeping on the bouncy castle together, however many rules it breaks

Edie: I think it’d be cosy

Edie: tomorrow though, we can have a nap

Liam: waiting until my ma falls asleep and I can sneak out, it’d be tomorrow

Edie: it’s not breaking the rules, if you’re sure

Edie: you can leave a note for when she wakes up

Liam: if you are, we’re doing what you want

Edie: obviously I want to

Liam: have to keep you up half the night first

Edie: you’d already done that without trying

Edie: but I’m not turning down more

Liam: me or the beast 😏

Edie: I’m not saying you’re covered in brown fur

Edie: but you are that big so

Edie: little column A little column B 😏

Liam: I’ll check the coat cupboard, might get me closer to ticking both boxes for you

Edie: 😂

Edie: you tick every box, you don’t need to kidnap my dad to make that happen

Liam: don’t be so quick to say no to something I know you’d like

Edie: 😍 okay, only if we see him on the way

Edie: tomorrow ain’t about him

Liam: 🎼

Liam: I should’ve got you to sing something other than happy birthday, lock my ma in as part of your fan club

Edie: karaoke night 👩‍🎤👨‍🎤

Liam: she’d have your arm off, to take you up on the idea and to take the 🎤 off you for her turn

Edie: I’ll bring the machine and plenty of 90s bops

Liam: what would your first pick be

Edie: 🤔

Edie: I’d have to pick My Heart Will Go On to win your ma over, obviously

Edie: assuming she’s not fuming I’ve stolen it

Liam: too 😤 at the ending as if everyone don’t know the boat sinks and loads of people die

Liam: go for the Whitney song, the film’s got a lower body count

Edie: just poor Whit IRL

Edie: 😎 he’s no beast but

Liam: you don’t want no posh 🤴 sort over a handworking lad who keeps coming through for you, I keep saying you’re smart

Edie: makes my motives sound a bit evil

Edie: nothing but true ❤️ works remember

Liam: but you wouldn’t fall in love with someone you’ve got nothing in common with, there’d be no connection

Edie: true

Liam: I’d never call out your motives as evil, even a bit

Edie: you can if I am ever 👻👺🧙‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧛‍♀️👹💀 to you

Liam: that’s more far fetched than you and 🤴

Edie: who did you have a crush on as a kid

Liam: 🧚

Edie: Good choice

Liam: - as many points off as deserved for Lexie and I’ve still got proven good taste

Edie: I get it

Edie: I can see the appeal

Liam: being able to fly is enough of one

Edie: She looks like she might 🎯 a bitch for you but she’s the Wendy really

Liam: there's no appeal to Lex and no need to try and find it

Edie: 🏹🏹🏹💘

Edie: She’s 💀 to us

Liam: and soon to the rest of her mates including your sister

Edie: I hadn’t thought about her all day

Edie: Or anyone else

Edie: just you

Liam: you don't have to think about her ever again

Edie: I won’t show up and 😭 at her ⚰️🪦 when we bury her

Edie: We’ve got plans

Liam: I only mentioned her at all as a - bc you're such a massive + but I probably should've said that without her name being dropped in

Edie: nah, not even mentioning her is gonna affect how +++ this all is

Liam: it makes me seem like I've got her on my mind though and I don't want you to think I do

Edie: you can tell me what really is then

Edie: even if that’s tinkerbell

Edie: or that fry-up still

Liam: you are, and when my ma is gonna go the fuck to bed so I can kiss you again

Edie: I can feel the 👻 of you, your lips touching mine and where your hands were and where I wanted them to be next

Edie: it’s making me wish I were 🧚 so I could find a drowsiness potion to give her or just sprinkle some pixie dust on you so you could fly in my window right now

Edie: weren’t my 🎂 wish though, no spoilers ever 🤐

Edie: I could kiss you all night

Edie: And all day

Edie: But I have got other things we can do, even though it’s my day tomorrow, can’t be that selfish

Liam: not kissing all day or all night if that’s what you’ve decided but long enough for my hands to go where you wanted them next, yeah? i’d say it’d more be selfish if you didn’t share the complete thought with me

Edie: You don’t know exactly what I want?

Edie: It felt like you knew to me

Liam: it sounds better if I say I don’t and get it right instead of saying I do and getting it wrong

Edie: You haven’t got any of this wrong, trust me

Liam: honestly didn’t feel like I had but my instincts ain’t as easy to trust as you are

Edie: I promise I’ll tell you if you ever do

Edie: but you aren’t going to

Liam: that’s the connection I was going on about before, useful for the beginning, middle and the happy ending

Edie: You’re better than any lad in any film

Liam: you’re all I wanna see on film

Edie: bring a 📹

Liam: look for the ⏺️ light flashing in your window

Edie: like a 🌠

Liam: and ⏰ which won’t trigger 🚨 before we can get you out

Edie: I have had previous experience sneaking out, even if not to meet boys

Edie: that bit, I can do

Liam: there’s shit you can’t do, don’t believe that bit for a sec

Edie: 😏 you know

Edie: as my sister tried to make me sound like a total child

Liam: she knows you different to me, you’re a separate person to her than how you exist when we’re together

Edie: yeah

Edie: that’s how she likes to keep us, still about 7 in her head

Liam: my sister went the other way, she wasn’t waiting round for me to grow up when she could tell me to hurry up and do x z or z thing with her

Edie: it’s cool, that she didn’t treat you like an incapable kid

Edie: better, anyway, right?

Liam: but sometimes I wish she’d let me be one, it don’t matter, you can’t turn round like not today I wanna go to the park with my mates, not with lads I already knew were gonna be gone long before her, not to do fuck all instead of a crazy scheme

Edie: being ‘grown’ is only fun if it’s how you wanna do it, that’s definitely the main draw of not being a kid, doing exactly what you want and when

Edie: less shine if it isn’t your scheme

Liam: I think it’d be 🌟✨ to be looked after, but I get it’d fade for me if I had a sister like yours

Edie: you already charmed her, she’ll extend the courtesy to you now too I bet

Liam: it’s too late for me to start living like that

Edie: not if you want it

Edie: we can do it

Liam: I ain’t had a family in so long, I dunno if I could do it

Edie: we don’t need mine

Edie: we can have our own

Liam: can we

Edie: yes

Edie: and we can do anything and everything you missed out on

Liam: what happens if nothing changes and I’m stuck as a 🤖

Edie: if that happens then a baby won’t

Liam: and you’ll have to leave

Edie: no

Liam: I’m not taking no for an answer or asking anyone to love me if I can’t love them back

Edie: I can do it

Liam: your ++++ can’t make up for such a massive - in me

Edie: don’t give in yet

Edie: we have nothing but time

Liam: I’m saying it before I give in to you and believe we can do this

Edie: okay

Edie: I am listening

Liam: I’m not dying, I don’t get to be as selfish as my sister and I wanna care more than my parents

Edie: I love that about you

Edie: not enough people give a shit about anyone who isn’t themselves

Edie: or act like they’re a saint if the list includes the person they’re fucking too

Liam: we can’t do things just to try and force me to feel, even though I want to

Edie: it’s up to you

Edie: all of it

Edie: I don’t want to force you to do anything

Liam: it’s not, it’s equally up to you

Edie: Kinda

Edie: but I already feel things for you

Liam: I’m not gonna let your feelings force you to do anything same as you’re not gonna let what I don’t do it for me

Edie: I won’t let this fail

Liam: me either

Edie: does 16 feel any different

Liam: only bc of how I celebrated it

Edie: well I like that 🥰

Edie: I’m getting you a gift, just give me time

Liam: you’ve given me loads of 🎁🎁

Edie: nothing I could tie up with a bow

Liam: you could do a 🎀 in your hair before you come out, but it probably won’t help with your sister thinking you’re a kid still

Edie: 🤞 she shouldn’t be seeing me

Liam: or the 📹 footage of you 👧🏼

Edie: not for her 👀

Edie: or anyone else’s if we decide

Liam: if they’ve not had their fix of you today that’s their 💔

Edie: I’m for you

Liam: I’m buzzing not to be afraid of that, maybe normal is overrated this time

Edie: maybe it’s just scary

Liam: you’re not

Edie: 👺

Liam: you’re 🔥 people are scared of it but it’s not about you, it’s a them thing

Edie: I could cry

Edie: again

Edie: I’ll burn it all down

Liam: you’ve been crying

Edie: only happy crying

Liam: you nearly did force a fear response there for a sec

Edie: I didn’t mean to baby

Liam: I know, it was a me thing too

Edie: how’d it feel though, as it nearly happened

Liam: I was about to leave and make sure you were alright, I forgot about happy crying

Edie: 🚨🚨🚨

Edie: I can’t remember the last time I felt that, actually

Liam: it’s the kind of day for it, I can’t remember spending this much time with someone and thinking it wasn’t enough

Edie: Me either

Edie: I usually zone out after a sentence or two

Edie: it’s enough to know we have nothing worth discussing

Edie: sounds fake, how hard I’ve gone here, but I never care enough

Liam: it’d sound fake how hard I relate to not giving a fuck about anyone or anything in years before this

Edie: people reckon it’d be freeing, not relating, not being connected to anyone else

Edie: and I guess it is

Edie: but it’s boring before it’s anything else

Liam: and I’d come across as certifiably crazy if I tried to explain what walking round as me with everyone else seeming so unreal was like

Edie: people are idiots

Edie: they wouldn’t take the time to get it

Edie: just take it as a 🔫 admission or some shit

Liam: they’d only take the time to feel bad for me, I’m down for no more of that as long as I live

Edie: fuck that shit

Liam: yeah

Edie: when school starts, we’re gonna fuck shit up

Edie: without a 🔫

Liam: we should go in the night before

Edie: dedicated 😍

Liam: not saying I’ve got my ear to my ma’s door at the minute bc that’d be weird but I am, yeah

Edie: if you want something to listen to

Edie: [a song that’s clearly about today]

Liam: if you wanna hear a review I’m gonna need longer than it clearly took you to write that

Liam: I seriously don’t know what to say

Edie: it’d sound pretentious to say I think in lyrics but there’s always a tune in my head so

Edie: when you’re as inspiring as you are

Liam: when I can finally get out of here I know exactly what to do, putting words to my reaction to you being everything you are can wait

Edie: I’ll do my best to wait

Edie: but that sounds 🥴

Liam: I’m not waiting, I’ll make sure she don’t hear me go

Edie: I believe in you 😶

Liam: [obvs do that and show up to her window because we all know you can and it wouldn’t take you very long]

Edie: [question is are you ground floor music room or your room and Billie better be asleep lmao]

Liam: [how do you want it boo cos both are moods]

Edie: [I say go for your room so you have to climb and you have to control your excitement ‘til you too are out of the window]

Liam: [soz that he is gonna kiss you literally immediately though like as he’s coming through the window so you really are gonna have to control your excitement gal and also your volume]

Edie: [good luck with that sweetie, love this for you two]

Liam: [just fully making out rn nbd]

Edie: [sorry we must literally]

Liam: [do leave before you wake Billie up though lads]

Edie: [you gotta because we do not have that much chill to get any further than this]

Liam: [it’s been an overwhelming af day we’ll allow the lack of chill and get you away from the fam]

Edie: [run babies run, we’re so 😍]

Liam: [get back to the bouncy castle because y’all are 10000% those bitches who would legit kiss for hours just for the joy of it]

Edie: [you’ll be dying but in the best way]

Liam: [like who else is gonna be fully savouring this bit for what it is and how it feels in its own right, we know it’s you]

Edie: [you’ve been feeling fuck all, you deserve it, we will be putting across as much]

Liam: [and she’s never felt like this before either so we don’t need to be rushing anything rn or ever]

Edie: [exactly, ugh, so cute, you definitely brought a blanket before you ran]

Liam: [the adorable snuggles you can have bye]

Edie: [‘this was the best day ever’ so sincerely]

Liam: [just nod because we very much agree to a speechless level]

Edie: [sing to him IRL but not in a cringe way lol, a chill one]

Liam: [that is everything though]

Edie: [just that happy soz]

Liam: [not at all soz]

Edie: [what a time, deffo think one of you should get in a bit of trouble for being out right now, even if they can’t find you ‘til they do, like either his mum or someone in cali gaff wakes up like hello?]

Liam: [maybe his mum because it do be her rule and she do be extra rn in terms of her emotions and realistically even if Billie did wake up she’s not gonna dob you in]

Edie: [seems legit, how would he wanna deal, ‘cos his phone can be blowing up as soon as she realises]

Liam: [sadly he’s probably gonna have to go back because he’s not ever a fuck you mum kinda bitch, unlike 99% of the other characters lol, but he’d be leaving it as long as he could]

Edie: [we understand even if this back and forth is a trip, the bouncy castle was nearby so you’re fine]

Liam: [it would be very obvious at least that he does NOT want to go, so he’s not just messing you about intentionally gal]

Edie: [whatever we might be thinking, we know it’s not that energy like you’re not a fuckboy tah everyone]

Liam: [when your mum is overprotective as hell but you’re still gonna die soz hun]

Edie: [it’s very rude to everyone you included hun]

Liam: [and you can’t even talk to the bae cos she’s gonna be popping off at you for ages]

Edie: [we can skip but I’ll just do some immediate afters from her first]

Edie: sorry sorry sorry

Edie: hope you don’t get in so much shit we can’t meet up later

Edie: just tell me when you can

Liam: I won’t, I’ll talk her round, don’t worry

Liam: when she lets me talk

Edie: does she hate me

Liam: I didn’t tell her I was with you, she’s only 😡 at me

Edie: what did you say that she believed

Liam: my mates were 🥺 bc I’d been with you all day

Edie: fair play, boys are clingy like that

Liam: she’s have an unhappy cry and we’ll move past it

Edie: should I have told you no?

Liam: you didn’t know she was gonna find out, I should’ve

Edie: I didn’t want to, I didn’t want you to want to either

Edie: but I feel bad if I make her cry

Liam: it isn’t really about me not being here, it’s about my sister not, this is what she gets like every year

Edie: yeah, of course

Edie: it’s not about us

Edie: be nice if there was something we could do now but I know that’s probably not the case either

Liam: she’ll feel better after she’s shouted at me

Edie: 🔇

Liam: [a gap while that’s going on, such fun I’m sure]

Liam: it’s sorted

Edie: you okay?

Liam: if you can’t hurt me, she ain’t gonna

Edie: are you tired though

Edie: as it’s my day, I can make you have a nap, if you need it

Liam: you’re gonna make me 😴 when there’s 0 limits on what we could do

Liam: serious

Edie: if that’s a challenge to make you 😴 with everything we’re GONNA do

Edie: then challenge accepted

Liam: how much of a challenge are you gonna make it for me to find out what that everything is

Edie: as much of a challenge to be fun

Edie: can’t have you getting bored as well as 😴

Liam: it’ll be a fun challenge too proving I’m not tired or bored

Edie: well, when we can go out again at more sociable hours

Edie: you can start with this [clue] to come find me and prove it

Liam: ok but until then [so many pictures of people with their eyes crossed out from whatever his mum has to read and deface or like their entire photo album tbh because MISS YOU SO SO MUCH] you can have this

Edie: we need a 🏠 of our own

Edie: missing you is so

Edie: intense

Liam: I'll start hunting for a not too trashed empty round and about we can stay in until the holiday cottages clear out

Edie: how’d you guess

Edie: I told you I’d stay busy

Edie: you still have to find me so not a total fail on my behalf

Liam: I didn't, I promise, we must just think really alike and want the same things

Liam: when did you even do this

Edie: sitting still is not a speciality

Edie: and i’ve got a lapel mic so I could record and 🚴‍♀️

Edie: clearly need a go-pro for streaming purposes but you would’ve been 😱 to see that sudden POV change

Liam: I ain't scratched the surface of what you're capable of, have I

Edie: 🤔

Edie: keep going and find out, I reckon

Liam: 😏

Edie: [selfie like 😁]

Liam: I dunno how I'm gonna get used to looking at your 😁 face all the time when we live together, something else to find out

Edie: I could get a 🤡 mask

Liam: we both know the smile underneath is more deadly to me

Edie: you’re deadly and you could kill me

Edie: but I promised

Liam: and you’d never break a promise to me

Edie: never ever

Edie: you’ve got the blood to prove it

Liam: when can I solve the first clue

Edie: is your mum going to work today?

Liam: unless she pulls a sickie

Edie: whenever she’s up for the day, you can go

Edie: even if she’s not mad at me, I don’t want her to be mad at you

Liam: if I leave then, you’ve gotta go sleep for a while now

Edie: I don’t know if I can

Edie: my 🧠 & 💗 are vibrating, that’s what it feels like

Liam: yeah, meaning the comedown is gonna hurt when it does catch up to you and I don’t want you to

Edie: I’ll sleep with you

Liam: my nightmares’ll wake you up

Edie: then I can protect you

Liam: not from what’s already happened

Edie: but from getting stuck there

Liam: seeing me like that is gonna be

Liam: you won’t like it

Edie: I know but I can’t help if I don’t see it

Edie: all of it

Liam: alright, I did say it was a good thing you don’t close your eyes to what everyone else does

Edie: [👀 pic always]

Edie: If you go to sleep, I’ll feel it and I will too

Edie: then I can come find you

Liam: I’ll do it if you sing to me again

Edie: [call so you can do that and both have some sleep]

Liam: [love that for you, keep being adorable forever please lads]

Edie: [so that was my main vibe for today ‘cos she did say she’d look, it should be crappy though and not the one that you find that you actually love straight away so you don’t need to stay here, but you can spend the day there]

Liam: [and you can have fun fucking it up at the end cos you’re not gonna stay]

Edie: [exactly, a more genuine squat vibe this time, so you can get all the creepy shots and footage, as well as just causing some genuine carnage]

Liam: [I’ll see if one of the million pics I have of him holding a camera has the right energy and send it to you]

Edie: [woopwoop, likewise, a more 😈 day but definitely still cute]

Liam: [can’t not be cute ever]

Edie: [tried to fight it but we can’t]

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 3 years

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this is the gentleman jack anon from a bit ago, sorry I dunno why it was anon last time lol- in terms of ur fics reminding me of the show I think it's mainly due to

1) historical queerness - I kno technically most of ur stuff is fantasy but it's basically the same - Annes (eponymous gentleman jack) mascultinity n attire is very reminiscent in vibe of ur discworld fics in my opinion

2) Anne in general really reminds me of Downey bc it's mentioned she had a reputation for gambling / hanging out with soldiers and being rambunctious in her youth but now she's a very mature character and a lot of the plot focuses on her business and landownership deals similar to Downey and running the assassin's guild. also shes really invested in maintaining the status of shibden hall, her historical home which is very similar to Downey's taste for traditionalism and grandeur. Also as characters they're both very into dignity/ courtesy/ 'doing the done thing'

3) theres also scheming and drama and illness which vaguely reminds me of the Sicily plot in thus always

4) Anne's actually a proper nerd aswell and loves to mention her time studying anatomy / art / blah blah in Paris which echoes William 'poisonous plants' Downey n Vetinari the og big nerd

5) also just older queer people which u don't often see in fic n stuff- Anne is in her 40s in the series

anyway that's just a few things that came to mind I could probably write an essay on it but I would defo reccomend u watch it I think it's right up ur lane 💓 (Soz for how long this got hehe)

<3 helloooo

1) Historical queerness - I do borrow a *tonne* from early modern and late-early modern queerness for Discworld stuff, and Downey in particular (see: Downey’s hats & Florentine mlm and their hats) - and I mean discworld as TP wrote it has no consistency in clothes so there is the late-early modern and early victorian (e.g. Moist & Adora) mixed in with late medieval and early modern (e.g. Vetinari) - I do tend towards the early modern myself because medieval and victorian is overdone

2) ahhh that is delightful! she is clearly living her best life. But I do appreciate a good #Growth experience with characters - yet ones who never lose their joie de vivre. So, still have a love and lust for life, but you know, also have maturity, responsibility and a sense that there are Consequences for Thine Own Actions. Which us something you rarely see in characters? It tends to be Rake/Louche Living v. Stodge/Do What is Right rather than a more normal mix of someone who once ran wild who learned there are consequences and has appropriately tempered themselves. So they’re still be a mad lad when they want to be but also pay the bills on time and have descent life advice and make good relationship decisions.

3) ooooooo! this interests me greatly! anyone get suspiciously pushed down some stairs?

4) <3 <3 ah this Delights me. Downey: Have you heard of this rare mushroom? Vetinari: Have you heard of this super niche linguist? Downey: I love you so much you dumb nerd. Vetinari: takes one to know one. Downey: I will have you know I’m one of the cool kids. Vetinari: mmmk honey. Only because no one knows about your secret sordid plant nerd ways.

5) YES. OK I LOVE OLD QUEERS. I love them so much. Mostly because i am a 75 year old man at heart. But yes I love old queers and i just - always want more of them. all of them living their best lives. doing what they need to do. just out their. being gay. ugh - be still my beating heart.

well! it’s still on my to-watch list and that has been a great booster of it up the list! so good work! 💓 💓

in cute things; my mom has watched it in an attempt to better understand me since I apparently remind her of the Anne character and she was very excited when she finished it and told me all about it and I was like “thank u you’re great” then she bought me men’s boots.

so you know, happy 2021 everyone.

#my mother unlike downey's father actually Tries #queer shit #lord downey #we stan one (1) queer downey #ask #reply #discworld

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somefantasticplace · 3 years

Text

MISTER AND MISTER

We asked comedians Vic and Bob the same questions in separate rooms. Then we compared their answers…

HERE for pictures.

What are the rules in your relationship? Is there a line that you'd never cross?

Vic: We've never needed to have rules - apart from who makes the tea next. We never speak to each other on the phone unless it's to say, 'I'm not coming in today,' or 'Will you bring some milk in?’ We have completely functional phone calls because we see each other every day. We live about 10 miles away from each other. We're very medieval in that we do all our writing with a pen and paper. Bob tends to hold the pen more and write things down more, but that's entirely down to my idleness. I have to do the drawings because his drawings are indecipherable.

Bob: If we don't want to work, we don't have to and we never make an issue of it. We never phone up and say, 'I'm really sorry, I've got to do this or that.' We just say, 'I'm not working today. See you tomorrow.' We're both quite unassertive, so there's no obvious dominance. It could be [why neither of them is the straight man]. We compromise - it's unspoken. We talk about most stuff, but not sexual things. I don't know why that is. You always imagine that everyone else does. If he's been out with a lass, I'll say 'So how did it go?' I don't really ask anything like, 'Did she have nice tits?'

Tell us a secret about the other.

Vic: He's got an anal dysfunction. Let's just say there's some kind of angle involved. He backfires.

Bob: He collects a percentage of his used condoms in a jar and keeps them. He does! Last time I saw it was in his house. So there you are!

What surprises can we expect in the new BBC TV series of Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased)?

Vic: I think the best bit is a very camp psychedelic episode, set in a big toy shop, with giant puppets and evil mannequins. it's got that late-60s Avengers feel. I fly through the air a lot. I was hurled down a corridor by a flaming man [no need to swear- ed]. No, he was on fire. It's always good working with Tom Baker. When we're together we camp it right up. He even gives me a kiss - it's quite full on and I wasn't expecting it. He was telling me something really close up and he finished off by grabbing hold of my face and going mwwwwwww. I was pretty startled. You don't think, 'Oh, he's a good kisser!' You think, 'What's he doing?'

Bob: There's one bit where we're in a jungle and Derek Jacobi is in a wheelchair with his face peeled off; Dervla Kirwan is on a sex machine (a punishment machine that gives women orgasms continually until they hate it); Emilia Fox is having a fight with a huge lady prison officer; and I'm being beaten up by two huge men. It's a lovely little tableau.

Hopkirk (Vic) is Randall's (Bob's) spectral minder. Who would you choose as your spirit guide?

Vic: Don Johnson from Miami Vice because he'd be suave. Or Michael Knight from Knight Rider. Or Peter Glaze [of Crackrjack]. He was quite short with little round specs and he'd look good if he appeared behind a bush in spectral form.

Bob: it would probably be quite good to have Jim [Vic's real name is Jim Moir]. He'd do anything you asked. I'd get him to spy on people and report back. I think he'd Iove it. I don't suppose he could carry a camcorder, but I'd like to see images from D-grade celebrities’ homes and Jim would be up for doing that. I'd send him to spy on Anthea and Grant. Could it be true that no one watched Anthea's show? I take no pleasure in that. I just couldn't believe her viewing figure was zero. You'd think Grant would have tuned in, though.

Who has the better sense of style?

Vic: Bob has his own particular sense of style, which I admire. He’s a very clean man, but he wears dirty clothes. I admire that because he pulls it off. He sometimes buys unsightly shoes and I'll say, ‘I think we should burn them.' I've burned a lot of clothing and taken photographs of it. I took a photograph of a pair of old woman's shoes on fire beneath a standing stone with a pool around the bottom. I had eight copies printed; I'm going to frame them and offer them out at Christmas.

Bob: I have no sense of style and I get a lot of abuse for it. But I'm beginning to think that I'm the more stylish man because I have no style. I don't buy anything. This is all bought for me by my girlfriend [points to his chunky sweater and scuffed jeans]. I hate male perfumes, male jewellers. I hate walking into a room and the first thing people see is your suit.

Vic/Jim has said: 'People can't seem to understand that Vic is just a character I play.' Are they two different people?

Vic: It just goes back to the fact that not many people can pronounce Moir [rhymes with lawyer]. I changed my name because I was only going to do one night - and I thought it was right for that night. 'Vic' is when I'm on TV.

Bob: I think Vic and Jim are one and the same.

Who would you least like to be chained to a radiator with?

Vic: Terry Waite. Or Donald Duck. I don't like the way he looks, I don't like the way he speaks. His attitude is all wrong. And his nephews! If they were chained as well I'd slit my throat. Eat them? I'm not sure anyone's ever eaten a cartoon yet.

Bob: Bubble from Big Brother. I'd probably irritate him - it wouldn't be a good mix. I think Vic would pick Bigfoot out of Bigfoot And 7he Hendersons - that big hairy thing.

You wake up one day to discover you are women. What kind of women would you be?

Vic: Probably much the same as the men that we are. Vaguely interesting. I don't think we'd be smart. Eclectic. I'd be wearing Victorian clothing, a high-necked, long, black dress, looking like a widow. Or Miss Havisham in Great Expectations. Dusty and dowdy.

Bob: I'd be the same as I am. I’d be a mummy. I’d be like Nigella Lawson, but anonymous. Jim, he would be like Ulrika.

Complete the following: I’d die if I ever had to… again.

Vic: …live.

Bob: I couldn’t face doing the conveyancing on a house again. I used to do that in another life.

How do you make your kids laugh?

Vic: Stupid walks, fart jokes – they always win. I can’t fart to order, but I can belch to order. Words always make kids laugh. You’ve got to get on their level and sing things like, ‘There’s a woman on a bike, wike, thike, nike, fike, like.’ They love it.

Bob: Repeating a non-word such as ‘uballah’ over and over, very loudly – that seems to get them going. Or walking like a monkey.

What would you never, ever lend the other?

Vic: My car [a Jaguar], as he’s always crashing cars. The interior of his car [a Lexus] is like a council tip. When we were filming, we had a boot sale and put everything from his car on a trestle table. There was cat litter, one shoe, a bra, plants, food, jam – everything you could possibly imagine - stashed away. He doesn't have his cars long. I'd say it takes him about an hour and a half to fill one and perhaps two hours to wreck it.

Bob: My dog and my cats. He'd be useless. He'd probably feed them the wrong stuff.

How do you know when he's down and how do you help him snap out of it?

Vic: I ring up Middlesbrough Football Club and tell them to pull their finger out. He doesn't know I do this. He gets into a terrible depression if they aren't doing very well, but that's the only time he does get depressed. He always cheers me up with his cheeky grin.

Bob: I don't bother, he's always down, so there's no worries.

Who has the better body?

Vic: My body is turning into what it was like as a young boy - there's nothing there really. Bob's is very manly - a big hairy chest, broad and brawny. I'm in pretty good shape. I do a lot of walking. But Bob's in better shape than he's ever been. He has this secretive world where he does a lot of digging. He moves gravel around and stuff like that.

Bob: We fluctuate. You'll see photo of him sixth months before and he'll be as trim as a tuppence. But at this moment in time, I might be able to top him. One thing Jim does is put weight on his face. If he's had a Christmas where he's scoffed and drank for a week, it all goes on his face.

If you could send the other on a course, what would it be?

Vic: Fly-fishing. I think he's got a secret wish to be a fisherman. We've been fishing about twice in 10 years. I think it's something he'd be into. I think he'd also benefit from learning how to draw. I would imagine his children can draw better than him.

Bob: An assertiveness training weekend. He came into work yesterday and said, 'The builders are after me for money.' I said, 'Have they done owt?' He says, 'Not that I can see.' So I said, 'It's very difficult, Jim, but when they phone up, if they haven't done the kitchen, the dining room and the bedroom, at least say, "Could you have the kitchen finished by five?" before you give them the cash.' He says 'Yeah, I'll try and get something out of them.' So he phones the builder and says, 'So you want some money? I'll put the cheque in the kitchen drawer.' He couldn't do it!

You’re in a room full of smart, beautiful women. Who do they gravitate towards?

Vic: Neither of us, I'm convinced. They'd probably turn their backs us. Maybe they'd gather around Bob first because they'd want to mother him and I think that's the first urge of a group of beautiful women in a room.

Bob. Jim. He's sassy. He's a single man and there's an air about him. You wouldn't notice me walking into a room.

Could you order for each other in restaurant?

Vic: Definitely. He'd have what you consider old person's food - tongue, potatoes and cabbage, and a steamed pudding with custard, with tea or a lager. If he chose for me, he'd go for something more obscure. If there was something odd on the menu, I'd try it.

Bob: Jim always has the most bizarre thing on the menu. He likes to try things. He'd order me potatoes.

If you were invisible for a day, where would you hang out?

Vic: Can I breathe underwater or be ethereal? I'd float over the capital and blow down chimneys and through windows at quite high speed. I wouldn't be that interested in spying on anyone. I might like to creep into a tiger's cage or maybe get inside an apple. I wouldn't find anything interesting in being a peeping Tom. I'd rather spy on a cat than a person.

Bob: I'm tempted to say at Grant and Anthea's again, but the truth, of course, is that I'd hang around wherever in 24 hours you'd see the most nude women.

How far would you go for friendship? Would you: a) lend him your underpants; b) give him your kidney; c) help him on the toilet?

Vic: a) I wouldn't want to wear his underpants. Have you seen the state of them? b) I'd give him my kidney, depending on how many I had spare on my plate. He'd enjoy it. c) I would help him on the toilet, yes, if I had to.

Bob: a) Yes, I'm sure I would. b) Can you survive with only one? I'd think about it. c) Yes, definitely.

What is the other's most irritating habit?

Vic: He would probably say blowing his nose on his clothing. But he quite often leaves some marmalade or something on the front seat of his car, so, when you get in, you really need to put a towel down first.

Bob: Not buying drinks.

What's the most endearing thing he's ever done?

Vic: Just being him really. He always makes me laugh. We're not present givers. We ignore Christmases and birthdays.

Bob: There's lots. He bought me a very rare record, which surprised me. It was an original copy of Free Live! He always looks after me. With the odd lives we have, we do have to look out for each other. It's one of the stabilising things about being in a double act. You can't start being poncey because you've got the other person with you. You can help each other out.

What scares you?

Vic: I've got a terrible fear of heights. Before I pass out, the sky comes in and I start ducking.

Bob: The thought of my children getting hurt. You see something on the telly and think, 'God, if that were them, I couldn't bear it.'

Do you go on holiday together?

Vic: We do. We've been off on our own a few times - we've been on motorcycling holidays, we've been camping. We're probably quite insular. We act like children.

Bob: On holiday, he's a bit too busy for me. He can't sit down. We're in a cafe and I just like watching people. He'll be saying, 'Have you finished your fag? Come on!'

If the partnership ended tomorrow, what would you both be good at?

Vic: I'd probably just paint pictures. I think he'd like being a gardener or maybe do up houses.

Bob: I'd like to be a gardener, if I was financially able to just garden. I can't act, so I wouldn't go down that line. Jim does it already, but I suppose he'd like to paint.

What sort of old people will you be?

Vic: I will sit in an old people's home, staring out of the window, listening to a distant Alsatian. I've often imagined myself sitting on a park bench with a dusty novel. And a bottle of milk. If they stop putting milk in bottles, I'll be cantankerous and lead the march to Trafalgar Square to reinstate bottles of milk. I'd imagine Bob would be very much the same, but he'd be sitting on a dusty chair with a bottle of milk watching the TV - anything that's on. He's a channel hopper.

Bob: Quite traditional, really: nice tweed suits, brogues, lonely. Together would be nice. We would probably be... [sighs at the inevitability] in a pub.

Former solicitor Bob Mortimer (42) was born only a few months and a few miles apart from Vic Reeves in Middlesbrough . They didn't meet until 1986 when Vic was performing at the Goldsmith's Tavern in London. Vic thought Bob was 'quite quiet' but it transpired he was eating a macaroon and didn't want to talk with his mouth full. Bob lives with his girlfriend Lisa Matthews and their children Harry (4) and Tom (3) in Kent .

Vic Reeves (42, James Roderick Moir to the Inland Revenue] lives in Kent with his wife Sarah (though they are separated) and their children, Alice (8), and Louis (4). It’s just down the road from Bob, at whose house they write every day. The two have had many series on TV including Shooting Stars, Families At War and Bang Bang It’s Reeves & Mortimer. Vic has also published a book of his paintings, sunboiledonions (Michael Joseph, £12.99).

Eve

Nov 2001

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ceratioid · 4 years

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FILL IN WITH what you most associate with your muse in each of these categories !

SPICE: anise WEATHER: gray skies & light, cold drizzle PRIMARY COLOR: blue COLOR OF THE SKY: midnight ANIMAL CROSSING ANIMAL: octopus SHOE: heavy-duty boots HOUSEPLANT: fishbone cactus ( selenicereus anthonyanus ) BLADE WEAPON: bone saw SCHOOL SUBJECT: biology & chemistry SOCIAL MEDIA: twitter, but he hates the character limit. has a lot of tweet threads & doesn’t reply to anyone who @s him. vagues people who call him out instead. CANDY: saltwater taffy TANGIBLE FEAR: the deep ocean ART STYLE: surrealism HISTORICAL PERIOD: late-victorian era to early-edwardian era MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: utopiec PIECE OF STATIONARY: mechanical pencil ( he breaks regular ones ) THREE EMOJI COMBINATION: 🧪 🌊 🧬 CELESTIAL BODY: sirius a

#deleted some that didn't apply to him yk how it is.#❲ OF THE ABYSS ❳ ━ muse info.#queued.#dash games

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meteor-writes · 4 years

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Death Threats For An Astronomer

A short story about two cousins venturing along country lanes to solve the mystery behind the death of a Victorian gentlemen a century earlier.

Rating: Teen Wordcount: 4446 Buzzwords: Exploration, Mystery, Cousins, Country Lanes, Abandoned Houses

Please enjoy!

In the countryside, roads ran into field as easily as concrete ran into carparks. Walking in tire tracks, you could be sure to land somewhere, but whether it be amongst yellowing bales of hay or meandering mooing cows was less obvious. All Zoe could see below the crystal blue sky was towering grass banks. For all she knew, this path she walked was a crop circle and her cousin Callum was actually an alien about to abduct her. It wasn’t like they looked that similar, her skin brown like the woods, his an olive tone, her hair falling in pencil-tight ringlets, his the windswept mess of a seasoned surfer. Could she really trust anything this boy declared?

Then again, her Auntie never failed to mention the curiosity in their cat’s eye at every single childhood scolding and she pinched their cheeks with equal success so there was evidence to suggest some sort of relation. Plus, a vague idea of a house could be observed if you focussed past the garden growing with neglect and remembered that by all logic ivy had to be attached to walls. Still, Zoe would have liked a road sign too, just to be safe. But then who would sign post an abandoned mansion nestled between even more abandoned fields?

If you were a foreigner to Buckfield you could be forgiven for assuming that this place was just another area left to go wild. A last outpost of human-nature solidarity. Unfortunately, this was not the case. Had there been a less gruesome tale attached to this house, Zoe was sure it would be in the hands of a plucky young couple with jobs in the city and heads in the clouds. But Zoe wouldn’t be visiting if that were the case.

“Zoe, horse shit.”

The squelch sounded before Zoe could react. Beneath her, a huge pile of dung splattered the grass like cannonballs, and Zoe realised with disgust, her boot was lopped centre of attention. She grimaced.

“Coulda told me sooner.” She muttered, easing her foot out and gagging as the smell released like a bomb.

Callum shrugged. “M’not your keeper.”

Then, instead of stopping to offer help, Callum continued lumbering up the path as if nothing had occurred, picking grass off the bank and casually scattering the seeds like a gremlin reaping mischief.

Zoe fought against a growl.

Callum wasn’t just irritating. He was insufferable. There was always an excuse. Always a way out. The perfect thing to say that would take responsibility cleanly off his shoulders and slam it down on Zoe’s. Because, no, he was not her keeper, and no, it was not his fault she stepped in horse excrement on the daily, and yes, he did say something, but by God couldn’t he have said it a little sooner!? Wasn’t there some sort of cousin code!? A common decency between relatives! Zoe was sure in all Callum’s laidback, child of the woods, we’ll get there when we get there attitudes, there was a little weasel waiting to get out, and it just so happened to make a break for freedom every time Zoe was about.

The rest of the trek was made in simmering silence. Zoe kept her eyes pinned to the earth, making sure to stamp around any dung piles present. It seemed this path, whilst barely being a path, was a frequent haunt for horses. Maybe even cows if the smell was anything to go by. Or perhaps that UFO from before hadn’t come down to probe humans and instead simply used Earth as its personal toilet. Zoe shuddered at the thought. At least the extra traffic meant the hedges were relatively kempt. Callum couldn’t flick her in the face with stray brambles.

“We’re here.” Callum announced.

Where the boy stopped was in no shape or form a house.

Zoe folded her arms, stepping up suspiciously to the roadside, where Callum stood, hands on hips, staring at a hedge. She toed at the brambles with her boot. There was some sort of rusted metal pole poking through the undergrowth. Zoe determined it to be hiding tetanus.

“Expand.” She said, pressing her weight into the pole and finding more than a little give.

“We’re here.” Callum repeated. Zoe was not amused. But after a brief cold war of blank stares, the boy sighed. Pulling the sleeve of his waterproof over his hand, he crouched down and stuck his hand into the nettles, forcing a clump aside like a curtain. Zoe leaned closer. There seemed to be a large headstone sitting in the undergrowth. It was a little moss covered, but she could just about make out letters carved into the lump of grey.

“orho, ar?”

Zoe’s tongue knotted just trying to form the words.

“Manorhouse farm.” Callum said easily, dropping the weeds. And before Zoe could ask how he knew, there was a loud clang and the boy threw himself over the hedge.

“Wha- Cal! What are you doing!?”

A puff of brown hair popped over the greenery. “Going to the house?”

Zoe squeezed her nails into her palm. Don’t rise to it, she told herself breathing deeply through her nose, it’s just what he does.

“Just grab onto the gate and climb over.” He said, already heading off.

Zoe wanted to yell. Of all the cousins in the world, why did hers have to be Callum? Just once, she’d like to explore as a team. Instead she was left tearing ivy out a hedgerow, trying to find a hidden gate just so she can jump over it without getting dismembered. Obviously, Callum didn’t have to since the weasel was protecting him.

Zoe dropped onto the other side and a sharp pain shot up her shins. It seemed Callum had forgotten to mention the path this side was nestled into a ditch. How kind. She kicked the nearest fern.

“This really the way?” Zoe yelled, wrinkling her nose at the smell of earth mixed with cat pee.

“To the murder house?” Callum asked, swinging around with his hands in his pockets. His mouth twitched with mischief. “Yep!”

Murder house was not it’s given name. That was Manorhouse farm – not too far off really, but far enough for the last innocent dwellers never to have suspected a thing. Of course, the house itself was not murderous. Neither was the setting. Buckfield saw its fair share of petty theft, sure, and the strange incident of ’06 where a man claimed to receive death threats from Mars, but cases of serious crime were few and far between. Murder certainly was not to be expected. Especially not involving this particular family who resided in Manorhouse farm circa 1893.

The Winter family were a respectable family of three, one daughter, two parents and a domestic servant who was paid kindly. They visited the village every Saturday, sparing change for root vegetables and home-brewed mead. Their farm was kept by local hands, all of whom spoke fondly of the landowners. That was until the 23rd night of November 1893.

It had been an evening sitting just the wrong side of bonfire night for sparkle and fizz. A chill permeated the air and the maid pulled on her gloves as she set out to gather firewood from the garden. Cornelius Winter entered the orangery. A keen astronomer he simply could not resist peaking at the stars on a clear night. His daughter, Mary, held a disdain towards the hobby a “mere woman” could not understand. She remained in the drawing room, practicing her scales on the grand piano, as her mother listened on, wishing that for once in his life, her husband would listen too.

Then there was a crash.

The women came hurrying. But it was too late.

At eighteen minutes past nine on a normal Thursday evening, Cornelius Winter dropped dead.

Zoe hadn’t found her Uncle’s ghost story of much interest when she was twelve. The Coroner reported an impact to the head. The police suggested a faulty roof tile. The family left and never returned. In her eyes it was a case closed. Worse happened on a Friday night in the city. Fortunately, her Uncle held a grudge. And on Zoe’s thirteenth birthday gifted her the age-appropriate book: ‘murder, mystery and malice, what the history books won’t tell you about Buckfield’. Here the story became far more interesting.

Because the roof tile was never found.

And a quick flick through the Buckfield Press returned a less than picturesque story of the Winter family. Accounts of a father over-indulging in ale, a maid but skin and bone and a daughter screaming bloody murder whenever she was told to act like a “proper woman”. Bitterness. Strife. Resent. It was all brewing under the thin veil of class at Manorhouse farm. Eventually, it had to break.

But by who? And how?

Zoe had to know.

Which brought her to her own investigation numerous years later. And a begrudging partnership with Callum.

The two waded their way up the path, dodging overbearing ferns and nettles that grew high enough to sting Zoe through the rip in her jeans. She wondered whether this path really would lead them to the house. And whether it was visible from space. Between the large mounds of earth and megafauna sprouted on top, Zoe hadn’t even seen a chimney spire in the last half an hour. And when Callum disappeared around the corner, Zoe was convinced she had entered a labyrinth. But then, she followed.

Around the corner, the path immediately opened up. Gorse spread in sheets and brambles crept out from underneath, thin branches interlocking like barbed wire. And what it protected was the dilapidated mansion itself; Manorhouse farm. The building sat like a single brick thrown out a Giant’s castle, lumped onto the landscape with only its two tiny antennae keeping it the right way up. Any exposed brickwork was moth bitten and water stained, rust dripping down the walls like blood from a wound. Vampiric ivy clung to the masonry, winding around the arches of the porch before spilling across the front door where broken bay windows sat miserably either side. Through them, Zoe could just about make out the ceiling collapsing under hefty beams. She pressed closer, rising on her toes, but the spikes were unforgiving.

She fell back, clicking her tongue.

“How exactly are we supposed to get through that?”

Her cousin was nowhere to be seen.

“Callum?”

The house was far more overbearing when it stared at just one. Zoe edged back towards the path, the quiet disconcerting. She peaked back around the corner but there was only grass waving back at her. Tugging on the strings of her hoodie, Zoe began toeing at the gorse, the unhelpful image of a pair of rotting feet slowly manifesting in her mind.

“Here!”

Zoe had to catch her heart when it sprang out her chest. Callum’s face had popped out from nowhere, right in the thick of the brambles.

“What are you doing over there!?”

Callum disappeared again. Zoe could feel the wind on her neck like the breath of a stalker. Then, like a Jack in the box, Callum jumped out again right on the edge of the thicket. He nodded back towards it.

“Path.”

“Right.”

Zoe’s heart had trouble sitting still.

“Come on.”

Zoe frowned. Was this going to be another shin-splitting tetanus gate? Because seeing the house was enough really. Callum could go ahead, how important was evidence to a century old crime? Being amongst nature, that was the real treat. All the fresh air, the peace, the emptiness, the feeling of being watched when no eyes were visible except that of the ghosts trapped inside a murder scene. Zoe miraculously found her feet.

Hurrying up to the boy, Zoe discovered some sort of path, or more accurately, a semi-traversable gap between the gorse. It curved towards the rear of the house and was mined entirely with thistles and thorns. At least none reached past Zoe’s knees. It was not ideal. But equally, it far surpassed the other option of getting shredded to pieces hiking through spiky gorse. Or being left alone. Zoe shuddered. Zipping up her hoodie, she tucked her trouser cuffs firmly into her socks, and proceeded to stamp on any thickets that tried to get in her way.

As it turned out, the back of the house had fared no better against time than the front, ironic for all the dandelion clocks. Overgrown butterfly bushes sprawled higher than the first floor and knotweed was the only lifeform to launch counterattack, leaving behind countless twigging trees that appeared like zombies dragging themselves out the grave. Past the foliage, or lack thereof, Zoe’s eyes were drawn to the shiny shards sticking out the side of the house. Although the glass was cracking, and the wood rotting, Zoe gasped as if witnessing Venus herself. The orangery. The exact scene of the crime. It was there at the end of this golden path.

Zoe stumbled up to the white door. The paint peeled in thin lines and the metal handle was rusted red, but Zoe pulled the sleeve of her hoodie over her hand and attempted to turn it.

“It’s locked.” Said Callum helpfully. Zoe tried forcing it with her shoulder.

“You’ll have to come up here.” He added. Zoe glared at the door. She doubted Fort Knox had better security.

Stamping around the side of the conservatory, Zoe found the weasel in control once again. Callum was balancing on the very tips of his toes on the thin lip of brick that acted like a windowsill. He wasn’t standing still either. The boy eased his way along, poking at each waxy window until one gave with a mighty shriek.

“This one.” He said, sending Zoe a mightily pleased grin. “Just step up here and-”

The boy slipped inside with the ease of a slinky.

Zoe stared at the space he left. Those instructions were… less than par. But she had no choice but to follow them.

Shoving a foot onto the barely-there ledge, Zoe launched herself upwards, catching the open window and immediately losing her footing. Slipping towards the ground, panic struck her like a shot, and she kicked off the sill swinging wide. It was brief respite before she noticed the gleaming of the glass and let out a screech, squeezing her eyes shut just in time to crash through the window like a battering ram.

“Shit!” Callum yelped. Zoe winced at how loud and unblocked his voice was. “Guess that’s one way to do it.”

Zoe tentatively opened her eyes. The entire table was covered in tiny diamonds.

“You okay?”

“Uhh…”

Zoe looked back at the window smirking with its new bite. Those teeth. They were sharp. She curled her toes, rolling her ankles. No pain - luckily. She shuffled around onto her knees, pulling at the frayed fabric of her hoodie to check for cuts. Nothing more than hairline.

“Yes.” She said finally, sitting up straight.

Now, the heat hit Zoe. Like the blast of air expelled from a bag of crisps left out in the sun. It smelt the same too; stale and vaguely reminiscent of potatoes. Though, looking around, Zoe doubted any vegetables were ever grown here as underneath the doming windows and vines dropping through like a jungle canopy there was a telescope. Complete with tableside reading and a dusty velvet stool, it stood proud at the centre of the hexagonal room, painted with gold trim and delicate cursive font. Cornelius Winter’s true love. The cause of his undoing.

Taking Callum’s hand, Zoe picked her way across the bench, avoiding the insect carcasses and dead leaves that lay scattered like blossom of the underworld. Falling more than jumping onto the floor, she hissed out a thanks and let Callum go to poke around the old telescope. What must it have been like? Observing the sky. Cornelius alone, in his study, under the watch of the moon and the stars and the murderer waiting in the dark.

Zoe tugged her sleeves over her hands. In all the fuss getting here, she’d forgotten about the murder. Now, the splotch of blood on the concrete had her immediately wanting to forget. Maybe there was an argument for letting nature take over? Free this place of all its ghosts.

Sufficiently unnerved, Zoe went back to inspecting the room itself. There was something growing– aside from the mould – in the back corner, a fuschia bush, thriving under the abundance of light and water dribbling out a broken pipe. It was almost a comfort to Zoe. As if the incident all those years ago had a bright side. It returned the land back to nature. Set it free from human hands. That was, until Zoe noticed the mattress propped up against the far wall and the bleached magazines stuffed down the back of it.

“Oh nice!”

Zoe jumped. Having almost forgotten Callum was exploring with her, it was a surprise to find the boy, butt in the air, scraping for something on the floor next to the rusted door.

“What!? What’s nice? What’s going on?”

“This.” Callum flipped something shiny into the air and span around. “A coke bottle top. From the 90s.”

“The 90s!?”

Had people really been exploring Manorhouse Farm for that long? Nature didn’t stand a chance.

“Are you sure?”

Callum hummed in affirmation and Zoe moved closer. The red cap was severely rusted, but the swirly logo was unmissable. It was certainly cola, but not quite the same as usual. A bunch of ingredients were printed below and although the stamped-on production number was severely scratched, Zoe could see at least one of the characters being a nine. All the evidence, it pointed somewhere. Zoe took the cap and turned it between her fingers. Some teenager, some twenty years ago, had held this cap too. Had used this place as a hideaway. Or a hangout. Or an exciting adventure they could reminisce about on this future day. Zoe’s stomach went warm.

“Add it to the collection.” She said firmly, placing it back in his hand. Callum’s eyes sparked. He grinned widely, stuffing it into his pocket.

“I’m gonna look for more.”

With that, Callum hurried back to his corner. Zoe watched him a moment, bobbing about the greenhouse making little hisses and whoops as he picked at the seams. She thought of the collection, sitting on the wonky shelf in Callum’s bedroom. It was something to behold. Gnarly old beer tops, outdated sweet wrappers, questionable magazine ads, even an unsteady Homepride man kitted out in black bowler hat and suit found at the back of their gran’s shed. Every time Zoe visited, a little bit more space was taken up. And every time it felt a little less like Zoe’s. Granted, the shelf was in Callum’s room, in his house, but still… when was the last time she’d added to it?

Zoe turned around. There was no use in watching. Callum was far beyond her in terms of collecting. So, she had to find something worthy. Analysing the gaps between the weeds where the stone met the walls, Zoe felt like a hawk stalking it’s prey. A bottle top? But they already had plenty. A dead beetle? She didn’t fancy picking it up. An old crisp packet? It didn’t hold enough presence. She wanted something grabby. A show piece. Something with drama. Perhaps, a vintage murder weapon? The idea hit Zoe like the slap of a recoiling branch. The roof tile. It had to be here.

Zipping about the orangery, Zoe dived under the benches and rifled through vines. She whisked about the telescope and hauled aside the mattress. Nothing but mould and debris. Zoe threw it back with a huff. Then she made a beeline for the fuchsia bush. There was no way a roof tile could have fallen in at this angle, but, given the right throw, a weapon could almost certainly be hidden in the growth.

Zoe dived in.

Immediately she was met with the smell of soil, followed by a sudden hit of memory. It was of the afternoon she spent planting sunflowers with her cousin in her Auntie’s back garden. Dripping with sweat, Zoe had been desperate to finish and watch cartoons. The problem was Callum had been digging for hours. With a spoon. Finally, she’d had enough and waltzed over to yell. But she didn’t even finish the first word as, when she looked over the boys shoulder, Zoe found Callum holding an old Roman coin. Bastard. He had been one-upping her from the start. With renewed vigour, Zoe ploughed forward, snapping twigs and crushing leaves.

The greenery was surprisingly thick. Even squinting didn’t aid Zoe’s view as she buried herself deeper. So, shifting onto her side, Zoe tugged a miniature torch out her jeans pocket. Her uncle had gifted it her before they left with a very strict: ‘don’t come back without a ghost’ and a rather less strict: ruffle of the hair. With a click there was light, and Zoe grinned at the circle, crawling further in at a more leisurely pace. She took time to peek inside a pile of ripped tires, finding criss-crossing spider webs and unfortunate flies. She ran her light along the lines of pebbles. And the gravel that got stuck to her palms. None of it seemed particularly sinister. But, in the back corner, there was something bigger.

“D’you think they were looking at Mars?”

“What?” Zoe flipped around and winced as her hair tangled with the branches. Callum was sitting at the telescope, flicking through the little book on the table beside. He lifted it up to her, pointing to a page she assumed was describing Mars.

“I don’t know, look?” She suggested, leaning back to uncurl her hair from the bush’s spindly grip.

“Oh!” Callum’s face popped with idea before melding into a grin. Dropping the book, he swivelled around, lowering his eye to the lens. Zoe rolled hers, opting to break the branch rather than her hair.

Then, she resumed her investigation.

The ground grew muddier as she crept closer, and she did not enjoy the way the slime slithered between her fingers. But, in the yellow light, the mound was taking form. A tantalising lump of something. Zoe licked her lips.

“Mmm.” Callum’s hum was like an echo in Zoe’s head. “Yeah. That’s totally Mars. Has to be. No doubt. Zoe? You think it’s Mars?”

“I dunno!” Zoe called, dragging herself closer to the dirt pile. There seemed to be something hiding underneath. “Is it red? Wait.”

She stopped and grabbed a handful of leave, ripping her head around to face Callum.

“It’s daytime! There’s no way you can see Mars!”

“Oh shit yeah.” Callum laughed to himself. “Must have been a cloud.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. Stupid Callum, asking inane questions. She had important business to attend to. Namely, playing archaeologist as Zoe had just landed on top of the mud pile and there was definitely something hiding.

Zoe brushed away the dirt.

Underneath was a rock.

It was the colour of charcoal, but the consistency was smooth and undulating. Like someone had smelted it with their thumb. She brought her torch closer, missing how the magnet on its end swayed until it snapped suddenly, attaching itself to the rock. Zoe peeled the magnetic back, testing the field. It was magnetic. So not a rock at all. Zoe grabbed it now. It was cool to touch. Picking up another stone, she tested the weights. The magnetic one was far heavier. Like a lump of metal.

“Hey, Callum?” She called. The bushes rustled. Then a slash of light slapped Zoe in the eyes.

“Yeah?”

Zoe growled. “You trying to blind me?”

Callum had the decency to look sheepish. He offered Zoe a hand and she hauled herself up, fuchsia flowers spilling onto the floor around her.

“Look at this.”

Callum leaned in close enough for his lashes to brush the stone. “What is it, a rock?”

“I think…” Zoe said carefully, a warmth bubbling in her veins. “I think, it might be meteorite.”

Callum’s eyes blew wide. “Whoa!”

She hadn’t really believed it before, but after seeing Callum’s reaction, Zoe’s chest began to ripple with her racing heart. She turned the rock over in the light, observing how the nooks caught against her thumb. A stone from space. That was pretty cool - a decent substitute for a murder weapon. Callum seemed to agree too, if the way his knees were bouncing was anything to go by. Zoe was getting giddy. Deciding it was too much not to share, she went to hand over the rock when she stopped.

There was something stuck to it. Like the remnant of a label on the back of an ornament. Ignoring a crestfallen Callum, Zoe brought the meteorite closer to her face. Scratching at the strange overhanging, Zoe was relieved to find it was not stuck to the rock but rather more suspicious when she realised it was something buried inside. Taking the scrap between her nails she tugged. The remnant became a piece and it grew larger as she pulled, until she was able to catch it between her thumb and forefinger and pull it all the way out. Shifting the stone into the crook of her elbow, she unrolled the scroll, breath hitching as she realised a curling script had been drawn over the paper, all in a bright aqua.

It read: ‘Quit watching us, human.’

Zoe read it again. And again. And a third time as an unease crept into her stomach. She looked over to the corner where the meteorite was hiding. Followed the line back, past the telescope, up to the hole in the roof and beyond to the sky. Mars. That’s what Callum had said. And if this were a meteorite…

“Oh my god.” Zoe breathed, hearing every puzzle piece snap into place. “It was a murder.”

“What!?” Callum jumped back like the thing was a bomb about to go off.

“Manslaughter at the very least.” Zoe muttered, shoving the note and the meteorite into Callum’s un-awaiting hands.

“Cornelius Winter was looking at Mars,” she continued, walking over to the table and sliding the book towards herself. On the open page was a diagram of the planet, instructions for spotting it highlighted and indecipherable scrawl surrounding every line. What was the headline in ’06? Death threats for an astronomer? Zoe felt the eyes watching her again, the breath tickling the hairs on her neck. She didn’t dare look up as she finished her sentence.

“And Mars was looking back.”

#writeblr #short story #original writing #countryside #abandoned house #storytime #story 37

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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S/S 2020 Fashion Month: A Basic, Uneducated Fashion Heaux’s A-Z of Everything Noteworthy (Part 2/3)

Hi to anyone reading,

Back at it again with the giving my unsolicited opinion on 2020′s spring/summer offering, I’m gonna hop straight into part 2 of my fashion month review!

Sorry to start with an underwhelming few but my compulsive tendencies are making it really hard to break out of this alphabetical structure (cry laughs whilst thinking about how long it took me to face up at my retail job last night because it would give me vaguely homicidal urges and make my fingers tingle every time a customer moved something slightly out of line), so I’m gonna whizz through a handful of collections. First up, Halpern:

Not much to say but I’m envious of the heavy liner (my hooded eyes could never) and I like the colour scheme. As for the 80s style metallic pink dress?

Helmut Lang:

And Hermes:

Of these 3 collections, Hermes is definitely the most interesting. I like the colour scheme and the utilitarian shapes and the tan coloured jackets are an absolute shoot. This is how you make safari look fresh, D&G take note.

Isabel Marant was okay. It’s cute, sure, reminds me of something Mary-Kate and Ashley would’ve come out with/worn in the 2000s, and there’s definitely some things I would wear, but I wouldn’t say it looks all that luxury. Pricey, sure, but like, Free People pricey, not designer pricey. As a collection, it’s not all that conceptual, unless the concept is L.A girl does a Starbucks run after her bikram yoga class. What I will say though is that some of the S/S 2020 commercial trends are becoming clear: white cheesecloth pieces, peasant blouses, cowboy boots, scrappy sandals, neutral tones, and bandana print.

Now onto the darling of high fashion Twitter: Jacquemus.

As far as presentation goes, this has to be one of my favourite set-ups of the season; a hot pink runway running through a lavender meadow is as canny and serene as those who sing the praises of Simon Porte Jacquemus would have you expect, and the clothes were easy, breezy and beautiful, even if there is an element of getting dressed in the dark going on with the styling which put me off including a few otherwise gorgeous pieces. It might not be 100% my style but you can tell this is a brand of the future which is only going to go from strength to strength.

And everything was beautifully and purposefully crafted on the runway with J.W Anderson this year. The pieces are graceful and timeless whilst still easy to envision as something a modern woman would throw on to (very fashionably) run some errands in the city. This was also one of the handful of shows (IIRC! This might be a case of extreme deja-vu!) where we saw the sandal straps tied over the trousers, I’m guessing to accentuate the ankles, and...I’m surprisingly here for it? Though in a sense it kinda resembles when I accidentally get my work trousers tucked into my slipper socks, it’s an interesting touch and adds a bit of a shape to otherwise billowing bottom halves.

Following Jacquemus’ lead (or vice versa, I’m way too deep into this fashion month haze to work out who went first at this point), Lacoste also put on a co-ed show. Otherwise crisp and preppy as per, the neckerchiefs (even if seeing them all next to one another does give off a bit of a Disneyland Main Street barbershop quartet vibe) and vinyl/wet-look/PVC/I’m still not sure what differentiates the 3 coats were an out of the box touch for them and I really liked it. It’s athleisure, but more like something Hayley Bieber would’ve worn as part of her Princess Diana inspired shoot than anything I’d wear to the gym.

LMAO, as if I go the gym. But you get my point. Next, Loewe:

Delicate, feminine and all around delightful, the S/S 2020 Loewe collection is up there with Chloe and Brock when it comes to most spring appropriate. More chiffon, lace and doily-like detailing, please, the old woman in me lives for this kinda thing made fashionable. Like with J.W Anderson, you can tell the design team wanted to do something different without just throwing shit onto their pieces for the sake of being wacky, and so we end up with these dramatic, slightly geometric waistlines and almost angelic Victorian nightgown inspired dresses that kinda make me wished that 1). ghosts existed and that 2). I lived back in that era so I could die some tragic death wearing any one of the dresses on the left in the top 3 rows and then haunt the shit out of everyone. That would really be an iconic fashion moment. Also wonderful, imo, was Louis Vuitton:

The mix between 60s and Edwardian I never knew I needed, as opposed to Gucci’s forward thinking take on the former decade, Louis Vuitton takes it back even further and throws in late 19th/early 20th century structures and references. I adore the what seems to be a mix between brocade and paisley print and the exaggerated collars are a very cute touch. The jacket on the top left is a highlight, a more neutral version of the similar catsuit seen at the Longchamp show (I couldn’t personally pick enough highlights from that to include it), and I now more than ever really want to try and pull off a sweater vest. The shoes might not be the most exciting thing ever but they’re also a personal favourite, from the knee high boots to the loafers with the LV moniker.

Maison Margiela was very cool and again, I’m in love with the shoes and just the accessories in general, ESPECIALLY those hats. I don’t know if I’m way off base here but this show is almost a modernised, fashionable version of a 1940s period drama about WW2 pilots and evacuees. Yes, maybe I am just getting that solely from the trench coats and the naval influences and the exaggerated collars but I think with that list I made quite a case for that perspective, right? Right.

And completing this holy trinity (appropriating the term I usually reserve for Emma Watson, Emma Stone and Emma Roberts is not without careful consideration) is Marc Jacobs. One of my ultimate favourites of this season, this collection is absolutely EVERYTHING: kitschy, dream-like, whimsical, over-the-top, and totally appropriate for your slightly eccentric aunt who always drinks too much wine and talks a lot of shit every time she comes over for dinner. I really feel like I walked into wonderland looking at this collection, and in the best way possible, it gives me a female Russell Brand in the 2000s’ wardrobe on crack. On the one hand we have these insanely beautiful and ethereal chiffon floral dresses but then we also have fricken top hats. Basically, it’s everything I love about fashion and I don’t know if anything can top it. Periodt (and I type that with a totally straight face).

Next, onto another personal fave, Marchesa:

Which is as always, beautiful. I was going to write that if Disney princesses came to life and lived in the modern world (so, in other words, Elle Fanning), they would be wearing Marchesa and then I remembered that the film Enchanted exists and had a lightbulb moment and thought OH MY GOD IF THEY REMADE THAT IN 2019, THE DRESS ON THE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE ROW WOULD BE A PERFECT LEVELLING UP OF THE CURTAIN DRESS.

Anyways, favourites of the favourites are the bottom row; I would die for that feather trim.

BUT where Marchesa is everything opulent, overly ornate and err-ing on “fussy”, Margaret Howell’s S/S 2020 collection is completely stripped back and just as effective, if not as to my taste. Very cool, very current, and altogether effortless (in a good way!), with this show Margaret Howell made mid-20th century utilitarianism relevant. I never thought I’d be praising the combination of bermuda shorts, crew socks and a beanie and yet here I am. Character development.

Next is Marine Serre:

Which I really like! The bottom row isn’t really to my personal taste but I can acknowledge that if I saw somebody wearing any one of those outfits I’d think they looked sick, and as for the first two rows, those mesh tops and the slightly chintzy florals are right up my alley.

Marques Almeida put out a really strong collection, imo. The blending of luxurious silhouettes and fabrics with street wear inspired prints and styling is a really interesting and unique contrast and if Billie Eilish ever decided to stop wearing those tweenie clothes and wanted to actually seduce somebody’s dad (I LOVE BILLIE EILISH AND I KNOW WHY SHE DRESSES THE WAY SHE DOES, IT’S A JOKE, PLS DON’T HATE ME), I’d love to see her wearing something like this. It’s a blend of punk, urban, and 2019 e-girl and has the kind of edge that Topshop has lost over the past couple of years that used to make it so aspirational to my 13 year old self. Of all the shows, it also probably has the most personally wearable accessories, and a shit tonne of cool make up looks I’d love to try if it weren’t for my lack of visible eyelid, lol.

Make up looks were a highlight of the Max Mara show too, for me anyway.

I otherwise wasn’t hugely keen on the collection, it being a little too matronly/Miss.Trunchbull-esque for my liking (wild card fashion inspiration of 2019, apparently?). The light paisley print dresses are very dreamy, though, and I can never resist a good suit.

As for Michael Kors, dare I say it, but the basic bitch in me loved it. I know as a designer he’s not held in very high regard by the fashion community and I'm not saying it’s at all original but it did what it set out to do well; I mean, it’s quite fitting that he cameo-d in an episode of Gossip Girl because every outfit would be perfect for the Constance attending incarnation of Blair Waldorf, which is probably why I like the collection. Like yeah, it’s a bit of a Polo Ralph Lauren/Lacoste rip off but it’s daintier and more feminine and so I’m not gonna lie, I’m on board with it.

Next, Miu Miu.

One of the collections I was most excited for, I was a little disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the collection, but I have never once disliked anything Miu Miu and I usually love it. There are things I love about this line too: the cream, floral lace-up boots, the off-the-shoulder cardigans, the houndstooth oversized coats and of course the fur-lined gilets. My mum used to buy me similar ones when I was a little girl and so they give me childhood nostalgia in the best way possible. I mean, the collection is as girly and eccentric as ever. I think it’s just a little too on the primary school librarian side for me, this time round. Sorry Miu Miu xoxo

Now I’m just gonna speed through a couple, starting with MM6 Maison Margiela, the younger sister to the more expensive regular Maison Margiela line:

And Monique Lhuillier:

So that I can get to one of my other ultimate favourite collections for S/S 2020: Moschino.

Oh my god, where to even start. Firstly, I might be reaching, but if this show is even remotely to thank for art nouveau mesh tops showing up in the Urban Outfitters new in section, then a very sarcastic thank you to Jeremy Scott. You just made ethical shopping a lot harder. HOW am I supposed to not buy an Alphonse Mucha top? HOW!? I mean, I’m sure I’ll manage (I’m on month 3 without a shopping spree I can’t actually afford now and yes, I am very much patting myself on the back), but HOW!?

But on a serious level, if renaissance was the print of 2019, which I’m still very much into BTW, bring on modern art as its 2020 replacement. The Pablo Picasso inspired show not only livened up a generally pretty predictable fashion month but it’s also got me searching up other times art has met fashion on the runway and thrown me down a particularly aesthetically pleasing wormhole I’m not sure I ever want to escape from (https://frontrowmagazine.ca/art-inspired-looks-were-all-over-the-runways-of-fashion-week-a74e8bc7ff0d and https://www.vogue.com/article/spring-2017-ready-to-wear-fine-arts-trends are good starting points!).

Mugler was also up there with the best of them, imo:

See, if the Moschino collection was all about dabbling in art class, Mugler’s S/S 2020 collection is its more mathematically inclined sister, all about sharp lines and deconstructed silhouettes and symmetry all whilst looking hot as fuck. So very Mugler, basically.

Now, this reference might be slightly off because I haven’t actually SEEN Ex-Machina yet but I imagine if Kim Kardashian were to channel that movie for a costume party she’d end up wearing something from this collection. That sounds like a roast because Kim has worn some questionable outfits but I blame Kanye for most of that and I’m referring to her on a good fashion day, alright!?

As for Off-White, it’s obviously a lot more commercial than most of the lines I’ve reviewed so far. Like, I can see a lot of these outfits on a mannequin in Urban Outfitters (no, I am not being paid to namedrop them, about 3 people in total read this Tumblr so any kind of sponsorship money would be severely wasted on me). That’s not necessarily a bad thing, and I love all of these looks; it just seems unfair to compare them to the the Mugler or Moschino collections, for example.

The stand outs for me are all on the bottom row: I would buy the utility vest, leather blazer and the all mesh turtleneck under washed-out tie-dye on the spot if I saw them in a high street store. Unfortunately, I feel like that’s kinda where they belong. You just expect collections to be a bit more conceptual, and this one is a little watered down, as much as it’s my style.

Oscar de la Renta was beautiful, of course. Not like I’m shook by how beautiful it is but kinda just what you’d expect from a brand with a name as poetic and fun to say as Oscar de la Renta. The silhouettes are dreamy and the details are as fit for a fairy princess (lmao) as ever. Plus can I just say how happy I am to see butterflies on dresses for adult women again!? And dresses worn by Blanca Padilla nonetheless!? Very here for it.

Next up is another on one of my fashion month highlights: Paco Rabanne.

LOOK AT THIS SHIT!

I mean, don’t get me wrong, something about this collection (I’m pretty sure it’s the knee high coloured socks) is giving me primary school teacher vibes, but I'm not mad about it. It’d be the kind of teacher who’s actually really good at their job and has loads of cool hobbies and a really hot boyfriend or girlfriend or wife or husband who you secretly want to be then you grow up/and or have a huge crush on.

Like with Marc Jacobs, there’s obvious flower child elements here, and whilst on the whole the former took my breath away slightly more, this is a lot more wearable. My favourites are the paisley print dress and cape on the left in the very bottom row and all the chainmail pieces (which remind me of the dress Naomi Smalls wore in that whole club ninety-sixxxxx skit on drag race), plus that floral cut out dress with the trailing flute sleeves, which is absolute PERFECTION.

The 70s influence was clear in Peter Pilotto’s S/S 2020 collection too from the abundance of tie-dye to the knit v-neck dress, zany colour and print being the very on-brand focus. That being said, this is definitely more of a street-style inspired collection than usual and whilst the floral suits and dresses on the 3rd row down are very typical Peter Pilotto, the tie-dye corset and combat trousers on the far right, second row from the bottom, are very Jaded London. As for the reoccurrence of the bucket hat, I’ve remained steadfastly against them for several years now (even when our Lord and Saviour Miss Robyn Rihanna Fenty started wearing them) but the way they’re done in this collection even I could definitely get behind; all in all, the show surpassed my expectations.

The same goes for Ports 1961, which was a lot more eccentric than I gathered is the norm from a few google searches. Honestly, I hadn’t really heard of the brand which, upon reading up on it, I feel very dumb for considering it has been around since (in the shock twist of the century) 1961.

Yes, I know how that sounds! But forgive me, I’m still learning:)

Anyway, the fishnet detailing alone pretty much sold the looks I picked out. Seriously, I got a pair of those bloody tights, like, 2 years ago when they became a thing again and now any outfit where I have my legs out feels incomplete without them.

Next is Prabal Gurung, which, as far as presentation goes, was fucking STUNNING:

I mean, you could say that I’m easily impressed and that the presence of the bouquets won me over (and you’d definitely have a point there), but it’s also this year’s Givenchy haute couture-esque feathers, the trailing pearl necklaces, the exaggerated shoulders, the dreamy colouring, the everything looking like it could’ve grown off a very fashionably-inclined tree. Like, there’s a lot to love here, from the naturalistic elements, to the context behind the show, an ode to American fashion history and those cast out of it (and the notion of “being American” in general) for so long.

Going from a high to a (personal) low, however, next we have Prada:

I don’t know, I get that it’s supposed to be simple and stripped back and dignified and whatever and I like the looks I picked but it’s just a bit blah for me. The bonnets that kept cropping up just didn’t do it for me and almost ruined what is an otherwise nice skirt suit (top right). Nonetheless, I like the silhouette of the sheer black dress and the the brocade print suit is really luxurious looking, even if the pattern is a *little* Wetherspoons carpet.

Anyways, here’s a quick overview of Rag and Bone:

So that I can stop moaning and get onto a collection I REALLY liked:

I am of course talking about Ralph and Russo. See, this is kinda what I expected from, like, Chanel and yet it’s Ralph and Russo that delivered. Also, it gives me Alessandra Rich vibes which is very much a compliment considering how much I love her designs. I mean, if Valley of the Dolls were to get another film remake in 2019, this is exactly what I’d like to see the female leads wearing, from the pastel suits to the satin kaftan style dresses. The yellow feather trimmed dress is practically a copy of something Marchesa has already done but it’s cute all the same. In my top 10 collections of the season, for sure.

Rick Owens was another strong collection; it goes without saying that it’s not the most wearable but that’s not really what Rick Owens is known for, so I wouldn’t expect anything else. If you want fashion on an alien planet, or something Lady Gaga would’ve worn in 2010, he's your man.

Next, Rodarte:

Obviously the dresses are beautiful and the set is magnificent, BUT...I’m really not a fan of the whole celebrities filling in for high fashion models thing. I like Lili Reinhart and I adore Kirsten Dunst, she’s been in a load of my favourite films, but in a similar vein to Dolce and Gabbana’s influencer show, it’s just distracting from the actual garments, if even worse because I don’t WANT to be distracted here (the same can’t be said for the D&G show, lol). If anybody has read this far, let me know your thoughts!

Roland Mouret was nice, and I always like a coed show, especially when a designer isn’t afraid to blur the lines of masculine and feminine. It’s fresh, lightweight and luxurious looking, Cannes film festival street style eat your heart out, and I love the colour palette.

Similarly, colour was my favourite thing about Sally LaPointe’s S/S 2020 collection.

I would never think that teal and burnt orange would work together, let alone in some kind of faux leather, and yet here we are. Orange is in itself always an interesting colour choice, perfect for the summer with a tan, and I really love monochrome outfits, even though they’re something that ends up being quite pricey to put together; slight differences in tone are okay but if you just randomly throw together a few things and they’re too off, it really doesn’t work and you’d have been better off wearing contrasting colours. For that reason, I’m just gonna admire that all-pink outfit from a distance.

As for Schiaparelli, it’s one I always look forwards to for the sheer weirdness. RTW isn’t quite as kooky as haute couture but still, the interesting choices are still there; what at first glance appears to be flame print is actually coils of hair, and paired with a water print suit is a sequinned jacket emblazoned with a paradisiacal mirage. Ornament-like facial decorations as seen in the over-exaggerated glasses worn with the pony hair suit are also one of my favourite new things to happen in the high fashion scene in the past couple of months and I can’t wait to see how they get watered down to become more approachable for us...regular, non-structurally blessed folks who can’t pull off anything and everything.

Simone Rocha was STUNNING. Romantic and ethereal, it’s druid goddess crossed with upper class Victorian woman of leisure, equal parts delicate and grungy, like a modern, fashion version of Lady Gaga’s Scathach in the Roanoke season of American Horror Story. You know, in the flashbacks, not in present day when she was all gross and like...scalping people and shit. Each dress is so ornate and has such an interesting structure, and the fabric choices give off an organic kinda vibe that create a handmade feel; the collection is, imo, really worthy of being shown under a haute couture heading. When it comes to my favourite element of the show, I’m torn between the petticoats and the hair accessories. I’m just gonna give a cop-out answer and say both.

Stella McCartney on the other hand, is very much a clear ready-to-wear collection.

It’s pretty, for sure. The pastel blazers paired with delicate white mesh tops underneath are a gorgeous combination for spring and I like the reoccurrence of the chain glasses (Gucci, right?). But I mean, when you go from Simone Rocha to this, it’s a bit anticlimactic. Plus, if I’m honest, kaftans are always going to remind me of Honey Mahogany from season 5 of Drag Race. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure she’s a lovely person but her runway looks aren’t really ones I look back fondly on, and you’re lying if you say you enjoyed them for anything other than meme purposes.

Temperley is equally meh, though the return of the Erdem-style boating hats is getting me excited that high street retailers might actually pick up on the trend and bring out some cheap ones for me to embarrass myself by wearing.

I also love a good 70s suit, the neckerchiefs are cute and there are some really delightful prints here that are a more unique approach to florals for spring.

Coming towards the end now, next is Thom Browne:

I LOVE this. Like, don’t get me wrong Rick Owens was cool but I adore how on the nose the concept is here; time to bring back all the Marie Antoinette puns I didn’t get to use in my Versailles Instagram post. I don’t know if it’s the history buff in me or the Sofia Coppola Stan but I will always be willing to sign any kind of treaty for anything related to the excesses of the 18th century French monarchy, and this is that turned up to 1000 infused with a dash of the Teletubbies, which sounds like a nightmarish concept, I know, but as high fashion it WORKS.

Tory Burch was very commercial, seemingly half inspired by Monterey yoga moms and the other half by Hamptons socialites.

And then there was Valentino, which was fucking exquisite, imo. LIKE, CALLING DOCLE & GABBANA: THIS IS HOW YOU MAKE TROPICAL PRINT INTERESTING. YOU MAKE THE VELVET MONKEY’S ARM THE FRICKEN WAISTBAND.

Seriously, though, I am enamoured with this colour palette; all the whites and golds are angelic and fr, I didn’t know until now that you could make neons this elegant. I’m also getting an almost clerical feel from a lot of these looks, with the plaited waistband on the black dress that’s 7th row down in the middle, the stunning red cape and the multitude of exaggerated neck ruffs. I think I’ve mentioned before but I always love religious references in clothing-I don’t think I’ll ever get over the 2018 Met Gala-and so whether I’m reading too much into it or not, this collection really did it for me.

Whilst it’s probably as far removed a collection from Valentino’s S/S 2020 contribution you can get, I also loved Vera Wang this season. It might purely (I PROMISE THIS IS MY LAST GOSSIP GIRL REFERENCE) be because it gives me Jenny Humphrey vibes and *controversial* she did have my favourite style of any of the main characters, but sue me, this is just the right amount of late 90s/early 2000s grunge. Deconstructed trashy goth it girl is an interesting concept to see on the runway and I completely support it.

Versace on the other hand was very hit or miss. The looks I picked out I really loved but ultimately, for one of the household name brands, a lot of the actual garments were a bit pedestrian. I will say though that for me, it’s a case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. The slicked back mermaid hair and the pops of colour in the makeup and the interesting necklines meant that when it was good, it was GOOD. However, overall, still a bit too 80s Miami businesswoman, and please GOD, can we leave that hideous J-Lo dress in the past, it should really not be the climax of the show in 20-fucking-19!

As for Victoria Beckham, I liked it, but it’s a bit of a Gucci copy, no? And no way near as interesting?

And on that note, I’m gonna have to cut this off. Super annoying but with only 5 collections left that I want to talk about, Tumblr is being a little bitch and will not let me add anything more to this post. So, see you in 5 for the final post!

Lauren x

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sleepnginstardust · 5 years

Text

Werewolf boyfriend and girlfriend (part 3/??)

Hello again! Sorry for the delay, Halloween is my busy time, hopefully I can actually sit down and write more!

As I woke up the next morning I looked at the clock and realized I slept for almost ten hours, and was now running late. I pulled myself out of bed and went into the powder room. Since it was supposedly a meeting I did my makeup like I would normally do for a meeting, primer foundation, concealer, contour, highlight. The whole nine yards. As I finished my makeup I pulled out a button down shirt and vest I normally wear over it. Finished off with some decent jeans and boots over that and I was done.

I grabbed my purse, walked to the door. Remembered that I put my wallet in my laptop bag. Went back to my laptop bag by the window and pulled out my wallet. Then I walked out of the bedroom. I made my down the hall to the stairs and heard the clinking of silverware. I got down the stairs and turned to the kitchen. Kara had a guest over and was talking quietly. The woman was beautiful in a girl next door way. She was tall and had bright red hair. As I stepped into the kitchen they stopped talking.

“You must be Abigail. You are gorgeous, no wonder why both Anita and Nathan are so taken with you. You’re looking at the Ketterlog house right? The large one.” I blinked a few times trying to think about what house I was seeing, and shook my head.

“I - wait the house has an actual name? Kara I’m running a bit late do you have something to throw some tea or something?” Kara gasped and went to the cupboard.

“I have some coffee made up if that alright?” I nodded I went through my purse for my car fob. I pulled out the plastic fob in the shape of my car out front. Kara handed me a cup with coffee in it and I waved. “Abigail please don’t forget to actually eat something as well.”

“Yes ma’am, sorry I would talk more but I’ve got to go.” As I head out to the porch I head the other woman tell Kara

“Holy smokes is she good looking no wonder those two are after her.” Kara Made a disgruntled noise and said something back but I was already out the door. I walked out to my Roadster and unlocked the car. I stepped in threw my fob next to me in the cup holder and press the ignition button. It was a stupidly flashy car and I knew it, but goddamn did I feel powerful when I drove it. It’s beautiful metallic silver sparkling in the sun.

I pulled out and drove back towards the downtown area. As I drove past the park I got a shiver down my spine. I noticed more people in the area and more stares. I knew I should have picked out a less flashy car when I bought it but damn if I wasn’t going to have at least a little bit of luxury in my life.

I pulled up outside of the coffee shop where I was supposed to meet the realtor. I grabbed my fob locked my car and walked into the coffee shop. The same girl from yesterday was working again, but this time it was pretty busy. The bell jingled behind me and I watched as a few people turned their heads to look who was coming in. I stood in the back looking around for someone who maybe the realtor I spoke to on the phone.

Looking around I saw a few people that could be him, but the only one that may have been him was a tiefling sitting next to the window in jeans and a button down flannel. I really hoped it wasn’t him, because if it was I was a bit overdressed. I made my way to the table and cleared my throat.

“Are you Kyros Pamri?” The guy looked up at me and smile with ridiculously white and straight teeth. He stood up and extended his hand.

“I am, you must be Abigail Pichard right?” I nodded and shook his hand. “Sorry about the mess, give me a few moments and we can be on our way. Would prefer I drive or would you like too?”

“I can.” I wasn’t feeling the best still being slightly tired after only waking up maybe 45 minutes ago. Howard straightened up his paperwork and put them in different colored folders. As he stuffed them in his bag I looked around and noticed the orc girl from yesterday waving at me. I noticed that the line had died down so I made my way over to her.

“How’s your hand? It looked like it hurt yesterday.” The girl took a look at her hand and waved it around a little bit.

“Oh it’s fine, I heal quickly anyway. Do you want anything? I’m Emily by the way.” I looked back at Howard who seemed to be slowly making his way towards me. Remembering what Kara said about eating I thought for a moment.

“How about that muffin over there, is it apple cinnamon?” Emily nodded and went to grab one for me. Howard finally came up next to and laid his hand lightly on my shoulder.

“Hey you ready to go.” Emily came back over as the bell above the door rang out.

“I just need to pay, no Emily it doesn’t need to be heated up thanks though.” I heard two sets of feet as Emily took my card and finished the transaction. Emily handed me my card and looked at me and then back to whoever had just come in. I let Kyros move to the side as Anita and Nathan came forward their eyes locked on Kyros’s hand which had moved down towards my wrist. Feeling like I was doing something wrong I pulled my hand from Kyros’s to give them a small wave. Anita’s scowl softened and Nathan looked away from Kyros to smile back at me.

“Nice seeing you again Abigail.” Anita murmured as I moved past them, I smiled back at her and walked out of the shop. Howard following behind me. I pulled out my fob and unlocked my car.

“Holy smokes, I didn’t think these existed outside of Silicon Valley.” I pulled short outside of my car. I looked at Kyros and back to my car. Shrugging I got inside. Kyros getting on the other side.

“I needed something nice for myself after everything that happened to me.” And that was the end of that. I told Kyros to bring up the address up on the gps screen on the center console. As he did I backed out of the parking spot. I looked in the window of the coffee shop and saw Emily talking animatedly to Anita and Nathan. I shook my head and just pulled away. As I got out onto the road my gps pinged at me.

“I’ve got to ask, what brings you out to a town like this? I mean it can’t be the night life.” He laughed at his own joke as my gps told me to turn onto a smaller road. I had a vague memory of what the house looked like, so I only had my gps and Howard to direct me.

“I need a quieter area in general. I write books and do some YouTube stuff, and I’d just like a more quiet area.” Kyros wrote something down on a notepad. He nodded his head. “Is there anything else you’d like to know. Maybe any deep dark secrets that may come back to haunt me?”

“Ah no nothing of the sort, I was just curious.” Kyros kept writing away and he made a vague turn right motion just as my gps chimed in with a turn right. The road I turned on was paved, but it seemed like it hadn’t kept up in a while. There were elegant private property signs on stone pillars on either side of the road and I kept driving down the road. The road was lined in some type of tree. I thought they were maple but the leaves didn’t seem right.

As I pulled up to a house I stepped out and looked at the house confused. Everything was done in the Victorian style with a large front porch and a round turret in the front. Kyros got out of my car as well and smiled at me.”

“Well what do think?”

“I thought it was smaller.”

As an upstanding member of the community and someone people looked up I restrained myself from going after Kyros to punch his face. I looked over to Nathan who was clutching his paper cup of coffee like his life depended on it.

“So that wasn’t something I liked to see.” Sitting in an empty fire hall gave us some leeway to tell openly about what happened. Normally our more wolffish tendencies were more quiet than but after seeingKyros hold onto Abigail like she was some prized possessions made my wolf come very near the surface.

“He knows by now right? Dude I’m pret certain everyone knows she’s ours right? He can’t be touching her like that.” Nathan's face was a mix of jealousy and anger. I went up and started rubbing his shoulders I knew it had bothered him to finally find her only for her to be afraid of us.

We’d been friends for years, our wolf side knowing that one day we’d finally be together with someone else, but as the years went on we started just not caring. Jokingly telling people that if that person just for us didn’t show up we’d just marry each other. The pack knew we would never shut out the person just for us, but we joked about it.

Then she showed up at Kara’s, and we knew as soon as she cracked that stupid joke the she was it. We just knew. We didn’t think anything of it when we offered to drive her to the coffee shop. We also didn’t think when we said we may join her at the coffee shop. We just wanted to be close to her.

Which led to us following her as she walked back to Kara’s Bed and Breakfast. We hadn’t meant to terrify her but somehow we had. We stayed in the trees at the park as she practically ran away from us.

When Fred practically yelled at us to get to Kara’s over text we knew what it was about. When we got there we hadn’t cared that Fred was ready to pull rank on the two of us. We could smell how terrified and sad she had been. We understood that something had happened. Kara explained to us what had happened and that sometimes people had to wait longer than what we wanted too. It chafed to just have to be patient when we knew that she was ours. When we waited our entire lives.

“You know maybe we shouldn’t have been so hasty. I mean for all we know she could not like it here and she could just decide to leave and never come back.” Nathan stopped moving and looked at me. His eyes were hurt, and I knew I had overstepped. He stood up, and turned fully to look at me.

“We’ve waited so long, how can you just say something like that? She has to know how much she means to us. She has too.” Hearing his voice break on that last part broke me and I looked away. I heard his footsteps.

“Where are you going?” He stopped.

“I just want to see her, just for a little bit.” I looked up to see Nathan change and go sprinting away. Cursing, I chased after him.

#Werewolf boyfriend #werewolf girlfriend #exophilia #My writing #monster lover

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apocryphalia · 4 years

Note

Oh, the weird asks look great! How about 17, 20, 52, 58, 94, 98?

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

So the actual answer to this is probably my shitty work shoes, which are black non-slip sneakers and ugly as hell. But when I have a choice in footwear, I exclusively wear either my Target clearance knockoff Vans or my Victorian boots. The boots are my favorite.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Laptop is preferred, but I also do a lot of haphazard writing of really good lines I think of at inconvenient times either on scraps of paper I shove in my pockets at work, or by yelling at my phone with talk-to-text while I’m driving.

52. favorite font?

This is such a weird and good question. Once upon a time, young Aubrey used to hoard all manner of fonts, but now I’m stuck with the ones I have available in Google docs. I’ve started writing in Comic Sans, which is absolutely not my actual favorite font, but definitely my most frequently used. I’m printing the nicely-formatted-to-be-bound version of Material Culture in Georgia, so I guess maybe that for now?

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

This question gives me anxiety (four?? Are there even four whole things I’m capable of, let alone good at??), which probably means I really ought to put some thought into it and answer it, so thank you for this one.

1. I’ve always said the only thing I’m actually good at is writing, so that’s definitely one. Sometimes I love it and sometimes I hate it, but even in my most impostor-syndromey moments, I have to admit that my technical skill with English composition is responsible for most of the successes I’ve had so far in life. (Doesn’t mean I have any idea what I’m doing or how to string together a coherent plot, but my spelling and grammar have always been on point, and even I can’t deny that, even if I feel conceited as hell saying it.)

2. Research. Another thing I love and hate, and a lot of this is definitely acquired skill from studying history and also just doing a lot of research for sometimes no real reason for my entire life. But I think I have some sort of natural inclination toward it, and I’ve realized that a lot of other people around me can’t necessarily do all the things I do, so I think it counts as a talent. (I am not anyone’s research monkey though, and I hate when people assume I know things or am willing to go find answers for them just because I like to research my own hyperfixations. Learn how to Google properly for your damn self!)

3. I am technically capable of carrying two glasses in one hand and 2-3 plates on one arm, depending on their size and weight. (This is server 101, and there are lots of people who do it successfully a much higher percentage of the time than I do, and who can carry more than I do, but I have very poor balance and fine motor skills and it took me entirely too long to figure out when I started serving, so I actually am a little bit proud of it lmao.)

4. I can count to 21 very very fast. Everything over 21 is just “over 21″ in my brain, so it takes me an extra minute to stop and do the actual math, but I spent 2.5 years literally counting to 21 for eight hours a day as a living, so I am very good at 21. Amazingly, that hasn’t gone away, even though I quit a year and a half ago now.

94. favorite season?

This is very basic of me, but definitely fall. I miss fall.

98. favorite historical era?

This one is actually hard. I’m a wannabe medievalist, but I’ve actually never been able to maintain a coherent temporal focus in my academic/professional life. I adore late antiquity, especially Byzantine Egypt, for reasons that you probably all know already. I also have a soft spot for the 19th century, and when I walk into a museum I never fail to be immediately drawn to Pharaonic Egyptian artifacts. A parallel universe version of me definitely became an Egyptologist (other parallel universe versions of me are definitely art conservators, librarians, and English professors, but this universe’s version of me is just a restaurant server and historic house intern). I currently work with mainly early 19th-century objects, and my dream MA program is actually in American material culture (but that’s because it’s FUNDED, and UD is very very good at objects - they’re also the #1 conservation program I believe, although there are really only 4 conservation programs to begin with). But I kind of want to write a thesis on medieval manuscripts, so... something vaguely medieval is the short answer.

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natemxre · 5 years

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Escape the Motherloving Nightmare - Part 11

Tag List: @undocumented-terriaki @risiskifi @virge-of-death @legit-humantm @shay-untitled @uraeus56 @supersepticsteph @margarita-is-the-answer @derisiveharridan @brookeisanerd @reeeeeaaper @aquilacalvitium @bokunobandicoot @authordrive @squishy-anon @imnotcameraready

‘The redhead is a stranger, but the blond is a face I know all too well. More deadly than a cobra, or the most fatale of femmes, but how to tell the kid? How to sum up a toxic tango of two decades, locked in a fight with this twisted son of a bitch who-’

“You’re doing it again.”

Mare’s voice is rough, the kid leaning against a pillar, arms crossed and head partially bowed. He feels as though he ran through Hellfire and by rights he probably ought not to be pushing himself, but Abe stinks, this place sucks, and close contact is not something he really wants right now.

In their bid to escape the strange green fog, the pair had hurried into the first unlocked building they could find, leading them into this swanky, if somewhat empty lounge, dressed up like some 70s love nest that swingers would go crazy for. Funky furniture, lots of pillars, and a hideous orange color palette that’s probably going to burn their eyes from their skulls.

Abe stands a short distance away, blinking in confusion, before closing his eyes and sighing as he tries not to sway in place.

“Give me a break, I’m very drunk.”

In the middle of the room stand two strangers and if Abe’s rambling means anything, he knows at least one of them. They certainly don’t look like friends, one of blondie’s hands wrapped around the redhead’s throat, barely holding him up so his toes are only just brushing against the carpet. Blondie looks surprised but the redhead is somehow grinning,.

Joey, the Savant, stares in shock at these party crashers, before scowling and turning to the Rengade.

“What is he doing here?” his free hand comes up to gesture towards the detective.

“He was with Dirk when I-!” The rest of the answer is choked away as the fingers around Shane’s windpipe tighten.

“So you kept him on set?!”

Mare raises an eyebrow curiously. “Set? Is this some kind of show?”

“Well actu-” Shane coughs and splutters as Joey raises him higher before slamming him onto the ground with the kind of strength you wouldn’t expect to be in such a skinny guy.

The blond gives a gutteral scream as he boots the Renegade in the chest, flooring him. A moment later, a short calming breath and Joey stands, straightening himself out, brushing invisible dust from his Victorian jacket as he turns with a grin, pinning the detective with a sly smile.

“Hello Abe-y.”

“Graceless.” Abe responds with a curt nod, scowling. “Sorry to crash your murder game. Except I’m not, because now I’ve got you.”

“Oh please.” Joey’s laugh is dry, cold, and emotionless, bringing his fingers to his mouth as though pretending to hide his humour at the detective’s stupidity, “You’ve got nothing.”

“Where is he?”

There’s a flash of knowing in the Savant’s eyes, and a smirk with all the innocence of a flasher caught with his pants down. “Wouldn’t you like to kno-”

“Bored now.” Mare cuts across him, not caring in the least that Joey is clearly pissed at the interruption. It’s bad enough dealing with one drunken dramatic asshole. Throwing in an overacting douchebag will get them exactly nowhere fast. “Abe, who is this jackass?”

“Joseph Graceffa AKA Graceless.” Abe steps forward, slowly pacing directly between the kid and the maniac, his subtle attempt at trying to protect the ghost not going unnoticed by the Savant who raises his eyebrows curiously. “The linch pin at the center of my life’s work. The Unsolvable Case. Not a shred of evidence, just a list of missing persons, two traumatised survivors, and him.” he stops, finger raising to point at Joey, “Partner said I was chasing ghosts, wasting time on a crime that was already going cold. Until he went missing.”

Joey smiles. Oh he remembers that! It feels so long ago now. A lot more slapdash, many hiccoughs, and almost caught out by two of the players. But it’s so easy to rig the game in your favour when you’re pulling the right strings. Such a shame, they didn’t make it!

“Was that the Disco Dancer or the District Attorney?” The Savant absent-mindedly taps his chin in thought, delighting in the little frown lines as Abe scowls at him again. Joey chuckles and shrugs. “They all start to blur together after a while.”

“All…?” Mare glances to the detective. Back in the bar, Abe had mentioned going through a lot of partners, all of them missing, he’d said, but if Mare is following this correctly then, “...You killed them.”

“Dirk’s a good kid, Graceless.” Abe has stopped pacing, standing face on to the murderer. “He doesn’t deserve this. None of them did.”

“You know actually, I am glad you’re here,” Joey’s eyes steel, pinning the detective, yet somehow Abe doesn’t flinch, with an unnerving and creepy gaze. It’s almost like he’s proud of the pain they can all see on the detective’s face. “This time, I can make you watch.”

The death-stenched air in the Divine Lounge suddenly drops, breath turning to vapor in the air while the lights overhead flicker wildly. Long creepy shadows are thrown across the carpeted floor as Abe shouts but Mare’s already gone from behind him, reappearing behind Joey. Less than a second to react, the ghost’s icy hand plunges into the Savant’s chest, grabbing whatever is in there – because he knows it’s not a heart – and squeezing.

“Don’t!” Abe is reaching for him, smart enough to keep his distance, honestly afraid as a rage that’s starting to get a little too familiar burns in the kid’s eyes.

Mare doesn’t notice, his entire focus zeroed in on the weakening pulse beneath his fingers. Murderer! Monster! People like him – like Afton – deserve everything coming to them, but since the universe seems to be late with the karmic payout, he’ll gladly pay the bill.

“Kid, stop!”

The Savant stands in place, arms raised, eyes wide, mouth open. His lungs are spasming, desperate to draw in some air, but frozen in place as he feels his chest shrinking. Mare hopes he can feel it, every gasp, every twitch. He hopes it hurts!

“I can end this.” Mare voice is a good deal calmer than he is, steady and even.

“Not like this!” Abe shouts, but Mare barely seems to hear him, “What about your friend?”

The rage falters.

Mad….

“Your friend,” Abe notices the pause and takes his chance, gesturing vaguely towards ‘outside’, “he’s still out there. Dirk too. We find them, we get out of here. That’s how we beat this bastard.”

The seconds draw out before Mare slowly withdraws. As his hand comes free, the murderer collapses into a heap, chest heaving, gasping for breath. The ghost stands over him radiating an ineffable strength that Abe hadn’t noticed before.

“I see you again, I’m breaking your neck.” Mare’s voice is low and grumbly as he steps over the pile of murderer on the floor and heads towards the door. Who knows, maybe the fog won’t melt Abe’s lungs like acid. The detective pauses, glancing towards Joey, stopping only to flip him off before slowly making his way after the kid.

They leave the Savant and the Renegade, on the floor, both gasping for breath. One clutching his chest, the other holding his neck, both silent in shock for a good several minutes.

It’s the Renegade who finally breaks the silence with a smirk.

“I like that kid.”

#Escape the Night #The Savant #The Renegade #natemare #Abe the Detective #Escape the Motherloving Nightmare #Protection Verse #Egos AU #I can only apologise for the amount of time this took #but jsyk this is draft number 19 #no more than 3 have matching elements it changed that much

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thewritewolf · 5 years

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Rekindle Chapter 10: Victorian AU

Adrien talks with his father and Marinette dreams of heroic duos long past.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“...And on the fourteenth, you have been scheduled for your penultimate winter shoot of the season, the final being for the middle of January. Do you understand so far?”

“Yes, father,” Adrien lifelessly replied, making another note in his schedule book.

The photoshoot didn’t really matter to him - all he cared about was that it was another day that he wouldn’t be able to meet with Marinette. A glance at all the other dates in December reminded him that his father was certainly keeping him busy this month. That wasn’t anything new; father liked to stay busy during the holidays and now that Adrien was technically an adult, he made sure that Adrien stayed busy too. Whether he wanted to be or not.

“...Which brings us to the New Year’s Party that the Mayor is throwing. You will, of course, be attending. We have already selected your date for the evening.”

That brought Adrien out of the stupor he often fell into while talking with his father. “Excuse me?”

Gabriel sighed. “Not paying attention again? I said that you will be attending the New Year’s Party and with a girl of my choosing. What is there not to understand?”

Plenty. He’d let his father dictate a lot of his life but if there was anything that was Adrien’s alone, it was his choice of date. Even if it was just for one party, which Adrien severely doubted. His father had already dropped hints for the last few years that it would be good for the brand if Adrien had a public relationship with another model. Purely as a PR stunt, of course.

“I’m sorry, father, but I will not be attending. I have prior plans.”

Likely sensing trouble, Plagg appeared from his vacation home and watched his chosen carefully. His ears twitched as he no doubt tried to listen in on Gabriel’s side.

“That’s absurd,” his father replied, “I have heard of no such plans. You simply don’t want to go to this party, but that is irrelevant. What matters is that this gathering will help improve our standing.”

“All due respect, father, but I don’t need to tell you about every single plan I make, especially when it is over two weeks away.” Adrien did his best to ignore the stab of pain in his heart from his father’s disbelief, and the surging tide of panic he felt at defying him. Plagg was doing his best to silently goad him on, and he wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or angry at him for it.

“If this plan is real, then tell me exactly where it is you plan on going. This lowbrow party that is so much more important than your duties to your family and our company.”

“First, it won’t be lowbrow. Second, I learned my lesson the last couple times I told you about my plans and suddenly those plans got cancelled or I got mysteriously uninvited.” Maybe the snide tone was pushing it. His father certainly didn’t appreciate it. “I’m twenty three years old, father. I can make my own decisions.”

“I don’t care how old you are, you are my son and the face of this company!”

Adrien winced at his father abruptly shouting at him. That normally wasn’t his style, but maybe the reminder of his age reminded him of another big anniversary coming up soon. Even after all these years, he hadn’t managed to move on. With that in mind, he did his best to stifle his emotions as his father let loose with all his pent up anger and frustration. After a few minutes, his father had to stop for breath and Adrien deliberately misinterpreted that as him ending the conversation.

“If that is all, father, then I have things that I need to attend to. Goodbye.”

“Now you wait just a-” Click.

As if hanging up on his father expended all the anger that he had built up, Adrien simply let the phone fall from his limp fingers onto the couch. He wasn’t sure how long he spent staring at the floor, but it didn’t matter. Soon enough his vision became blurry and the tears began to come in full force.

Plagg didn’t have anything to say, no ancient wisdom, or platitudes about cheese, nothing. Instead, he just curled up against Adrien’s neck and did his best to comfort him with his presence.

---------------------------------

It was late. Much too late. The clocks had already chimed the hour and he had promised her that he would arrive no later.

She was just about to call on Tikki when there was a knock at her balcony window. At three stories up, at midnight, there could only be one person out there. Raising the edge of her dress, she rushed to the balcony doors and threw them open, relief flooding her when she saw his easy grin shining back at her.

“Bit of an odd day to see you in all yer fineries, m’lady,” the ruffian bowed his head to her from his position sitting on the railing of her balcony. His attire was the same as it always was when he used his powers - all black, from his greatcoat down to his stiff pants and boots. The only color was the gold trim on his ornate mask, and a flower in his top hat.

“As much as I would love it, I cannot be in my sleuthing uniform at all times, Tom.” She shook her head. “What do you have for me?”

“Not so quick, my sweet lady. I have a fee for my information, if you recall. I risked much for this knowledge and the Black Tom does nothing for free.” He leaned forward until their faces were barely a finger’s breadth apart.

Rolling his eyes at his antics, she moved quickly to grab the hair on the back of his head and step forward, crashing her lips against his. His ‘fee’ wasn’t much of one, given their ongoing secret relationship, but he so loved his dramatics. She didn’t have the heart to deprive him of so simple a joy, and if it kept him happy, then so be it. After a few heartbeats of indecency, she pulled away, resting her forehead against his as they both got their breath back.

“I always pay a fair price. Now give me the clues I need, Tom, or that will be the last payment you ever receive from me.”

She could hear him gulp as he followed her into her room. A button pressed and a secret door opened to her base of operations in the fight against the evils that lurked within London.

“It’s about as bad as Mister Fu claimed,” Tom stood on the opposite side of her table where she had placed a map of the city. A great web of annotations cluttered the space and only made sense to her eyes. “Occultists are up to something. My contacts on the streets couldn’t tell me much besides that, but something big is about to happen.”

“I’ll pass word along to Fu. Maybe he can find out more.”

“I hope your trust in this mysterious man is worth it. Not right, all this mucking about with spirits and such, but at least we got one of them on our side. Evens the odds a little.”

“That’s the hope. What about the opium den?”

Tom paled. “Well, good news is we won’t have to worry about them anymore. Some kinda monster got in their hideout.” A shiver went through him. “When you said we’d be cleaning up crime, I didn’t think it’d be with a mop and bucket, sweet bird.”

She tapped at her chin in thought. “Maybe the monster didn’t get into their hideout…” Tom raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, knowing full well how she worked. “Maybe the monster escaped the hideout.”

“What? You don’t think…?”

“This is just conjecture at the moment. I’ll be stopping by the scene of the crime tomorrow evening and seeing what the boys from Scotland Yard have missed.”

Tom stepped over to her to take her hand in his. “Be careful out there, my lady. Rough times are coming, I’m sure of it.”

-----------------------------------------

As close as they were to the middle of winter, it was no surprise that the sun wasn’t out yet. Even if Marinette was woken up early by another strange dream. One good thing she could say about these… dreams? Memories? Flashbacks? One of the good things she could say about them was that they at least left her fully awake.

While she fumbled for her phone, Marinette whispered into the darkness, “Tikki? Tikki, are you awake?”

Somewhere beside her head, she heard her kwami’s reply, “I’m here. Is something the matter? Did you have another dream?”

She finally found her phone. Seven in the morning, one new message. Funneling that information aside for now, she answered Tikki, “Yes. This one felt much more vivid than the last. This time, I could feel what she was feeling as if I were there.” Marinette gave herself a moment to really think about what she remembered in the dream. “...What did the Black Tom and his Ladybug face? It didn’t sound like they were fighting akuma.”

There was a long pause. “The Lady in Red. That was her name.”

“Huh?”

“That was her name - the Ladybug of that time was called the Lady in Red. She was a detective.”

“Oh. She seemed… good at what she did.” Marinette wasn’t sure how to proceed. Tikki almost never talked about past Ladybugs and when she did it was always very vague. This was the first time she had ever named one of Marinette’s predecessors.

“She was amazing! I just know you two would’ve gotten along like best friends.”

Marinette finally found the lamp switch and saw Tikki sitting on the pillow beside her, staring wistfully into the distance. It was easy to forget how old her cookie-loving best friend was - how many Ladybugs she had guided. Would she talk about Marinette in the same way?

Pushing those thoughts out of the way before existential dread could set in, Marinette asked again, “What did the Black Tom and the Lady in Red fight?”

“Master Fu chose them because of magical threats that were on the rise in London. The empire of the day had gathered a lot of mystical artifacts and tinkered with them, leading to… bad things happening.” Tikki finally turned back to Marinette and gave a half smile. “But don’t worry! Magic has faded so much from the world that the only artifacts really left are the Miraculous.”

“Considering at least one of those is in the hands of a supervillain, that doesn’t really comfort me a lot.” Marinette threw her legs over the side of her bed and Tikki floated up onto her shoulder. “Let’s get started with the day.”

A short while later, Marinette was making breakfast when she finally remembered to check her new message, which happened to be from Chat Noir.

Chat Noir: Sorry I cant meet up anytime soon :( But! I’m going to a New Year’s Eve masquerade party. Want to meet up with me there? I’ll be in a Zorro outfit with a green sash.

It took a moment for Marinette to process that she would be meeting up with Chat Noir outside the masks - at least, outside the magical masks. Would she recognize him? Did the magic block work while they were in their civilian forms? Although she had given some thought to trying to go to the workplace party again, this invitation was too good to pass up. There were still two weeks, which would be plenty of time to make a dress for the masquerade.

If she just so happened to include a lot of red and maybe have a Ladybug mask, then who could blame her? Maybe her kitty could use a hint or two.

#MarichatMay2019 #Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Gabriel Agreste #Tikki #ml fanfiction #my writing #Rekindle

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