bradylukebrady-blog

[bradylukebrady-blog]

[bradylukebrady-blog]

daisyxmcclain: 

“Of course. I just wonder if we’ll ever find out those reasons,” Daisy replied offhandedly, attempting to sound less interested than she actually was. It wasn’t even the teachers’ involvement that had her so interested; it was Tyler’s. If anything were truly wrong or unsafe, he wouldn’t keep them here, would he? The thought gnawed at her, resting heavy on her chest whenever she received a phone call from her adoptive father or thought about it for too long. “Oh. That. Unfortunately, Marina never gave me any Pig Latin lessons.” It was out of her mouth before she could think about who she was speaking with. They had never discussed Marina’s condition before, not since she first got sick, and Daisy didn’t have enough energy or even a desire to change that now. As her face came to rest on a more neutral expression, she nodded along to the boy’s conclusion. “Exactly. There’s nothing wealthy people like less than others telling them how to raise their kids.” A slight smile spread across her lips at his words as she nodded slowly, wishing that he could repeat those exact words to Violet and get her to get off her ass. Part of her wished she could have that same mindset without forcing it. “I wouldn’t mind. Poppy, Emma, they’re basically family. It’d keep me a bit further away from Nathan, too,” the blonde smirked, shrugging one shoulder.

“I don’t know.” It was the only response he could muster. Personally, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to find out what was behind that door or why it was there. He would rather pretend it was a night that had not happened, get along with his life. As curious as he may be, he couldn’t help but believe deep down that was what they should all do instead of dwelling over a mystery that probably didn’t matter very much. They would only end up getting themselves in trouble and not knowing what kind of punishments they’d be facing was horrifying. “It’s pretty easy to learn,” he smiled, skimming completely over the mention of Marina, as if there wasn’t a sharp pang in his chest upon hearing her name, the only sign that something was off being the slight change in his eyes. A flash of sorrow. It didn’t last long. Suck it up. Move on. “That’s the right attitude to have! Uh, sort of. Anyway, no one can deny there are worse places to be, just look around,” he gestured and did so himself, taking in the sights that he took for granted everyday. He was lucky to be surrounded by such nice buildings, to be living in one. “Sure, it’s no Buckingham Palace,” he continued with a short laugh, “but for a school, it’s quite breathtaking.” Coming from the boy that could find beauty in absolutely anything. “Don’t you think?”

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vyingforviolet: 

She found herself grinning as he spoke. “Triple chocolate? How can you have triple chocolate cookies?” she wondered curiously. She giggled at his lack of slyness. She’d never been good at hiding anything either. Both of her sisters were the secretive ones, and she’d just get pulled along. She smiled wider at his attempt at singing but that faded as she felt guilty seeing his face when she mentioned Marina. “I don’t want to bring up anything you’d rather not think about.” She shook her head. “I don’t like to, usually,” she admitted. As he mentioned Christmas, it occurred to her that she hadn’t thought about how Christmas would be this year without Mum, Dad, and Marina. All of them were gone. Marina was gone this year. Every year, she missed another one. One was maybe—probably—never coming back. The reality of this lack of family around her on Christmas gave her a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes darkened and tears welled up in her eyes much to her embarrassment. She blinked them away, hoping that Luke hadn’t noticed them. “I don’t know how it will be.” She paused for a minute before continuing. “Don’t worry about it though. I’m sure The Mayor has a nice thing planned.” She gave him an almost-convincing smile. 

“Haven’t you ever had them?” An over dramatic amount of shock registered on his face, the idea of someone never eating his favorite treat just simply appalling. “Chocolate batter, two kinds of chocolate chips. It’s real easy, I mean, just as easy as any other kind of dessert. You have no idea what you’re missing out on, honestly, no idea at all. You know what? I’m going to have to make you a batch.” He nodded, solidifying his answer. “I must have a recipe memorized by now...” He had made them enough times. And if not, he could always call one of his parents to ask, or even look to the internet, there seemed to be an answer for everything online these days.

“Oh, well, no, no. It’s not that I don’t want to think about it, I don’t-- no, I don’t want to think about it, it being, you know, the bad stuff, I want--... I want to think about her, though, I mean, I don’t want to think about her in a way because I don’t want to think about her not being here or how sad it all is but I do want...” There he went, rambling again. “Sorry,” his mind catching up with his mouth, he cut himself off quickly, swallowing the rest of the words that came to mind. The change in subject was terribly uncomfortable. He wished that he could slip into mist form and fall away. Or that they were talking about cookies again. His remark about this Christmas in particular should have stayed behind sealed lips, judging by her reaction. The poor girl looked ready to cry. Had he said the wrong thing? He’d said the wrong thing. “I am so sorry,” he apologized again, “I didn’t mean-- I’m sure it will be fine. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Maybe, I mean, maybe she’ll be...” No. False hope. Brady cleared his throat, struggling to stop fumbling over his own words, struggling enough before he’d upset her. That was just icing on the cake. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive. Look, if he doesn’t have anything fun planned and you get bored or... or lonely, you have my number. Right? I’m not as good company as--...” Marina. “But everyone deserves to have a good Christmas. So if there’s anything I can do to make yours better, you just let me know, alright?” 

[bradylukebrady-blog]

[bradylukebrady-blog]

I’ve been meaning to state that I don’t want anyone to feel pressured to match my length (edit: of writing, for clarification, if that was needed). Brady talks a lot. I know this. I use too much detail sometimes. I also know this. My replies fluctuate, sometimes I struggle to write fifty words and sometimes I end up with three paragraphs but with his rambling, they usually get slightly out of control and then it’s just so much work to cut them down and have them still make complete sense. So please, don’t feel bad if your replies are shorter than mine. I feel bad I’m forcing you all to read so much from time to time.

Also -- I love y’all. I’ve missed y’all. And I’m so glad to be here.

[bradylukebrady-blog]

vyingforviolet: 

Violet almost smiled at the boy’s rambling. He didn’t sound that much different than when he’d been with Marina. He was an old friend, perhaps one of the remaining traces of Marina left. “Did you get to leave him cookies?” Violet surprised herself by asking, thinking back to her own old Christmases with her family. They didn’t feel as real now. “Pancakes?” she asked curiously. Pancakes hadn’t been the custom in her house, as much as Violet always asked for them. Marina didn’t like them. “Hot cross buns,” Violet said quietly. She hadn’t had them in years, not since her father was around on Christmas. That was far too long ago. Without thinking, she answered his question. “Marina and I were always forced to wear matching dresses. She was an inch taller than me, so mine was always too big. She looked like a princess though.” She looked up at Luke, afraid she might have brought back memories that he’d been trying to forget. She frowned. “Sorry.”

“Of course!” His eyes were nearly twinkling. “How rude would it be to not leave a snack for the man that travels all the way around the globe just to make sure you wake up to that one gift you’ve been pleading for for twelve months underneath your tree?” And then, although she hadn’t asked for extra information, “Triple chocolate. I wanted to make a batch of triple chocolate every year. If I’m being honest, it was for selfish reasons. I liked it because every time I managed to ‘sneak’ a few -- I’m pretty sure everyone was aware I was doing it, I’ve never been very sly. They just let me. I got the cookies that were leftover and it was no secret they were my favorite but I insisted, insisted that I just knew Santa liked them most of all, that everyone else probably gave him oatmeal or sugar or chocolate chip and he looked forward to coming to houses that had a different flavor for him so it would be wrong to let him down.” He spoke so fondly of his memories, chuckling at the speech he used to give, it was impossible not to feel instantly lighter when he thought back to his childhood. Not much had changed since then, not inside of him. His outlook, his eagerness, he was practically still a five year old at heart. Catching her quiet remark, he couldn’t help himself. “Hot cross buns, hot cross buns,” he sang softly, terribly off tune, “one a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns.” Then she mentioned Marina. He could never forgot about her entirely, not even if he wanted to. (He didn’t.) She was always in the back of his mind, but hearing Violet bring her sister up, a portion of the joy drained from his face, just for a second, just until he blinked, then his lips curved up again, not smiling as wide as before but still smiling. “You can talk about her,” he said, his voice softer than usual, slower too. Sympathetic. Sometimes he forgot that he wasn’t the only one loving a girl he had to miss. “You should talk about her,” he added, “if you want to.” People had different ways of coping. His was not thinking too long or too hard, because then it started to feel real. But he would rather think of Marina wearing a matching princess dress than accept the possibility that he may never see her again. It was a positive image. “I hope... I hope this Christmas isn’t too hard on you.”

[bradylukebrady-blog]

daisyxmcclain: 

“The fact that our teachers are hiding an extremely looking suspicious glowing object in the basement is crazy. Aliens are crazy too, of course, but in comparison,” she trailed off, rolling her eyes and raising one shoulder into a dainty shrug. “Etha what?” Her tone was laced with confusion, head tilted slightly as she tried to make out what he had said. That hadn’t been regular speech, had it? Shaking off the confusion, she focused on his most recent comment. “He can’t take away our Christmas break. He’s our headmaster, not our guardian. Well, at least most of us.” There was no uncertainty in her voice. Their headmaster was a powerful man, sure, but he couldn’t simply call their parents and tell them that their children wouldn’t be coming home for one of the most important holidays of the year. Personally, she wouldn’t mind remaining at school. However, this wasn’t about her preference; it was about what their headmaster simply couldn’t do.

“They must have their reasons,” he mumbled more so to himself, that was the part he didn’t understand. The teachers at this school, they were... questionable to say the least. But he would have never expected them to be involved with possible alien activity, or whatever else that blue light could have meant. And the pictures... “Ethay edmasterhay,” he said again, tacking an explanation to the end, “Pig Latin.” Her words were somewhat comforting. He supposed it was true. The man may have been in charge on these grounds but he couldn’t make them stay just because he didn’t want them to leave. There were too many lives involved that he wasn’t charge of, too many reasons he couldn’t get away with it. “Right, right,” Brady nodded, a sigh of relief blowing through his lips. “It wouldn’t be logical. If he tried to pull something like that, some parents would probably pull their kids right out of school. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter where you are, no one can stop you from having a good time. Sure, it would be strange to not be with family but it wouldn’t be the worst thing. The only way something can ever bring you down is if you let it.” Repeating words that he’d told himself quite a few times. Whenever it felt like him against the world, he just had to decide he wasn’t willing to lose. If it had worked for him, it would work for everyone.

[bradylukebrady-blog]

And some how I’m convinced that at least one of these shooting stars will bring me back to you. If not this one then I’ll whisper your name as I wish on the next.

leonxrdo  (via wordsnquotes)

[bradylukebrady-blog]

[bradylukebrady-blog]

[bradylukebrady-blog]

harrysinclair: 

It was no secret that he wasn’t much of a talker. What probably was a secret was that under the right circumstances he could talk for the world. He had been brought up in a way that had taught him not to speak unless spoken to but that didn’t mean that he never had anything to say. “Maybe, I always eat alone so I don’t know,” he pointed out, it had after all been a long lifetime of lonely meals in the Kings house and the Sinclair house too once upon a time. “Let’s not talk about the sad then, huh?” His tone was a little brighter than normal although he didn’t really know why, “Nothing sad about breakfast in my opinion. Especially when it’s almost Christmas.”

Harry’s remark about always eating alone brought a frown to his face, sure, some people didn’t appreciate a lot of company but it was always nice to have people around for when you wanted them there. Himself, he was okay with being alone once in awhile but not lonely, never lonely, he loved people too much to keep himself locked away. “Right,” He agreed without hesitation. Brady rarely talked about sadness, he rarely acknowledged it at all, it was something that he would rather not feel so he simply outran it, sometimes literally. So far, it hadn’t managed to catch up with him. “You can say that again,” he smiled as he made his way to the familiar building, hands pushed in the pockets of his jacket, shielded from the cold. “Time flies, doesn’t it? It seems like just yesterday we were all preparing for the last Christmas. Better be careful about blinking too much, before we know it Halloween will be coming around again and we’ll be back in this very same position and I’ll be saying ‘it seems like just yesterday that I was saying it seemed like just yesterday we were preparing for the last Christmas.’ No, no, I probably won’t say that. But I could. And sooner than you'd think.”

[bradylukebrady-blog]

vyingforviolet: 

“I don’t know if it’s my being respectful as much as just not being interested,” she shrugged, adjusting the strap on her shoulder bag once more. His rambling was kind of funny to listen to. It reminded her of a bright eyed child, especially one that was startled at the storm about to hit. “Christmas is definitely something,” she said in a way that he’d think she was agreeing with him. She listened to him ramble. It was honestly the only voice that didn’t grate on her nerves at the moment. He still had some amount of wonder left in him, and it was refreshing to hear.

“Oh.” He nodded, not knowing what else to say. He could think of something as it was pretty rare of him to let a conversation die, but he was glad to move onto the holidays, having a soft spot in his heart for them ever since he could remember. “It is something,” he agreed eagerly, “I especially like Christmas Eve night, drinking hot chocolate and watching all of those cheesy movies on TV. There’s this feeling of... magic, I guess you could say, sitting on the couch all warm and cozy and relaxed. It was so hard to fall asleep as a kid, the excitement was overwhelming, waiting to see if you could hear Santa. I always had this big plan of staying up late, catching him in the act. But it never failed that I would be out like a light before eleven o’clock, usually ten. While I can’t really run and jump on my parents' bed anymore, I still like waking up early in the morning, opening gifts in my pajamas before I even think about breakfast. Usually pancakes for me. I like putting a Santa beard on the stack with whipped cream, making a hat out of strawberry slices. I swear they taste better that way. And everyone likes opening gifts but I think it’s more fun to watch other people light up when you give ‘em something they’ve been wanting or even better, something you just knew they would love and being proved right.” Stopping to take a breath, he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face, turning the attention to Violet. “What’s your favorite part?”

[bradylukebrady-blog]

jameslawton: 

“You didn’t mean to freak me out? Bloody good that did me,” he snapped back. James stood up, loosening his body into a more relaxed stance. The words seemed to pour out of the boys mouth, making it almost impossible to keep up with. Hands raising as his eyes widened, realizing that he could have some fun with the boy. A plan started to form in his head, a small funny plan. “You think so? Aliens walking among us,” he said in fake amazement. “You do know what that means, right? We could be the aliens. I could be one.”

“Sorry,” he blinked, confused by the snapping but not upset by it in the least. It was the last four words that caught him off guard. Of course Brady wasn’t an alien, he would know that he was an alien. He could have been abducted and brainwashed, but what good would it be for another kind to send someone down with no knowledge of what they truly were? “I-- oh, I don’t know, I doubt that-- I... I’m sure you’re not.” Brady fought the urge to take a step back. If he knew he was onto him, James might have to take drastic measures. Not that he believed he was an alien. Well, he didn’t completely believe it. “Besides, I’m sure all aliens really want is to study us. They’re just as curious about us as we are them, right? If they exist, I mean. I’m not saying that they do, that I believe that they exist, but... it’s a big universe, there are a lot of unexplored planets and we can’t expect to know everything. It’s a possibility. Then again -- it’s also... not... confirmed. If they were to exist though, they would probably just want to see what our world was like. I think that’s all we really want from them, to observe, we don’t want to... take over their planet or anything. Well, most people don’t. I guess there are some bad eggs, but you’ve got that everywhere. I would never take over someone else’s planet. That isn’t fair. We’ve got our own. Sharing, that’s one thing, you know, but taking it over completely? That seems far too dramatic. And violent. I’d like to believe different species adapted to completely different worlds could be friends if we tried, if those species existed in the first place. W-wouldn’t you? Hypothetically, of course.”

[bradylukebrady-blog]

vyingforviolet: 

“I don’t like intruding on people’s privacy. You still get some of that, even in the middle of quad,” she said. Even while saying that, she looked where his glance was and saw his wallpaper. It was nice. She looked away though. She looked around in response to his comment about the world seeming eerie. It was more cloudy today. That was the only thing she really noticed. It was cloudy. The world was never exactly joyous anymore. It was sleeping just like Marina was sleeping. But he was right in a way. Something bad was happening. But today didn’t seem any worse or more melancholy than yesterday or the day before. “Maybe you’re just noticing how bad it is out here,” she said before she could stop herself. She bit her lip, annoyed at her outburst. “I just mean,” she began, “it’s not just you.”

“Well, thank you. That’s very respectful of you. Sometimes people can’t keep their eyes from wandering, though. I know I can’t. Curiosity killed the cat and all, but I figure it had nine lives anyway, so is it really teaching anyone a lesson?” He barely gave any thought to her response. Brady didn’t think the world was bad at all. It was full of beautiful things, beautiful people, and sometimes you lost those things and those people, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still there. That didn’t mean there weren’t more. You just had to know where to look. You just had to know to look at all. “Right,” he hummed, “maybe everyone is just gloomy waiting on Christmas to get here. Waiting is the hardest part. But if you’re not waiting anymore, well, then it’s practically all over with. And that’s even worse than waiting, I think. So maybe it’s the second hardest part. Either way, the point is,” -- what was the point? -- “patience is a virtue and it is one that I certainly struggle with.”

[bradylukebrady-blog]

Signal interruption? Signal interruption? What did that even mean? He would write it off as a glitch, his phone going crazy, a misunderstanding, had it not been written in morse code. Someone had to type that message out. On Marina’s phone. The thought sent chills down Brady’s spine. It couldn’t have been her. It couldn’t have. But he wanted it to be, so bad he could hardly stand it, that message reminding him how it felt to see her name light up his screen. It had made his heart leap. For a split second, he had forgotten that she couldn’t text him, she couldn’t read his texts. She couldn’t answer his calls. She couldn’t see him. But then he found himself crashing back to earth, missing her much more than he had gotten used to, like it was happening all over again.

It was someone that knocked him out of his daze, not allowing him to wallow in his self pity any longer. Turning to Emma with a clearly forced smile, phone back in his pocket, message unanswered, he shook his head. “Not a problem.” It wasn’t, not really, nothing to get upset over. “I’m sorry if I was in your way.”

Emma woke up annoyed. She got dressed annoyed. She left Dudley annoyed. Why were her classmates so incompetent? Not even her classmates, her best friends. And maybe incompetent wasn’t the word but saying they were annoying might overdue it. She simply could not believe how irresponsible they were. They should have known not to go down there and explore, especially not so late, and yet here they were. Now Emma was walking around Whittemore campus, trying not to see anyone and also not to lose her mind. But the more she walked around the more frustrated she got. Her feet dragged through the snow and she could not wait to go home. She needed a break from school and her friends, which sounded bad now but after last night, getting away from them would help her calm down and figure out some logical way out of this. 

She didn’t even know where she was going, she just knew she had to keep moving. A crisp breeze blew her hair around her and she shivered. She should have worn more. Too late now though. She spotted someone ahead of her and tried to avoid them, but another hard breeze caused her to stumble a bit and she bumped into them. “Sorry,” she murmured, making to move around them.

[bradylukebrady-blog]

daisyxmcclain: 

Somehow, the weird blue light had become the least strange part about what was currently happening. Now there were disappearing mothers to worry about (except, unlike her father, ones who eventually came back), old photographs with familiar faces, and mysterious text messages from her comatose sister. As she leaned over the boy’s shoulder, familiar enough with him to do so, it wasn’t all that surprising that he had resorted to this conclusion. “Aliens,” she murmured, her hair falling over her shoulder and brushing his own. He jumped about a mile high, but she managed to lean back in time. If this weren’t a somewhat serious situation, she might have even laughed at the squeal that escaped his lips. “Sorry,” she smiled slightly, more out of politeness than genuine remorse. “Apparently aliens. Interesting conclusion, although with everything going on, I wouldn’t say it’s too crazy.”

“No worries,” he brushed off her apology, a cheeky grin stretching across his face. It was probably a funny sight to see, maybe he would be embarrassed about it if he’d had time, her answer swaying his attention. So she had seen. “Uh, right...” Pushing his phone into his front pocket, he couldn’t help but laugh, hearing the words leaving her lips. “No, no, it is. It is crazy, isn’t it? I just thought-- well, really, I was trying to find protective gear,” he glanced around them for any sign that a teacher or possibly an alien (you could never be sure) was in earshot, “but we should probably worry more about protecting ourselves from...” Trailing off, he leaned closer to Daisy and lowered his voice. “Ethay eadmasterhay.” Pig Latin. Of course. Reassurance that a passerby wouldn’t be able to crack his code. “What if he expels us? Or worse,” Brady gasped at the sudden thought occurrence, his expression falling immediately as he leaned back, “takes away our Christmas break?”

[bradylukebrady-blog]

thatkidjxde: 

Jude nodded his head at Luke, or rather Brady, as he’d recently learned that people called him instead of his real name. He figured that the other boy was also thinking of their basement adventure, but he surely wasn’t going to bring it up until he had all the facts. “We do, but we usually pick up the most important of them. It hardly matters if you remember the way the light changes in a room over time.” He shrugged. Jude had always thought he remembered the important things, but he never considered that others didn’t.

“True, true,” Brady nodded, distracted and chewing on the end of his pencil. He probably remembered half of the things the average person did, if that. Only truly important details seemed to stick with him, and sometimes not even those. He had to keep track of birthdays with calendars and event planners, which oftentimes got lost, the poor boy would probably forget to show up to class everyday if he wasn’t so used to the routine. “It’s hard to believe what the human brain is capable of. And to know we never can unlock its full potential, imagine the things we could do.”