#am also trying to maximise how much moving i actually do at work

[self-sailing-ships]

who knew that "found the perfect jacket for a halateez look but the biggest size they had is 2 sizes too small" would be the motivation i need to finally start eating better and losing some excess weight

[yougobunny]

The first installment of “They became a team and a family in 2772, but it’s a small world and their lives were entangled long before they actually met. They just didn’t know it.”

Or: All Along They Were Invisible Strings (tying you to me)

Episode 1: Ace, Lexi, a charity wrestling match & a bar mix-up

Ace wasn’t looking to meet anyone that night. 

In fact, he hadn’t been in the mood to meet anyone for a while now. The bustling film industry in Acmetropolis provided ample opportunity so he was, fortunately enough, never pressed for either work or money. Now, was it good work or good money? Debatable. But as a single guy in Acmetropolis, his meagre income was more than enough for him to get by. 

It did help that his roommate was a bartender who didn’t mind smuggling him the occasional drink or snack plate when he was behind the counter. That was where Ace found himself one chilly evening in late August in 2771, munching on a plate of nachos as said roommate complained about his latest date. The cold weather had sent in a barrage of patrons into the warmth of The Looney Saloon, and Benjamin Fox had just finished serving a bunch of young college students before taking a breather by Ace’s corner of the bar table. 

“I swear everyone wants to date a bartender just because they think I can get them free drinks,” said Benji, a fox with fur so dark it almost seemed black in the dim lighting. He wiped down the bar, scrubbing hard at a particular sticky stain that Ace hoped was just beer. “I mean, I don’t really ask for much, y’know Ace?”

Ace swallowed a mouthful that he had been chewing, “Have you, uh, tried asking them for dates out of the bar?”

Benji looked thoughtful, “... No.” His eyes flicked over Ace’s shoulder, and he flashed Ace a quick grin that showed off his glinting white canines. “Hot girl coming ov- Hey! Welcome to The Looney Saloon, what can I get cha?”

Ace fought the urge to roll his eyes at his friend’s antics. Now, part of Ace’s martial art’s training was to notice. To take in minute details and read body language and anticipate movement within the space of a few heartbeats. To be aware of his surroundings. So, when he glanced sideways at the person in his peripheral vision it was more out of muscle memory than actual interest. 

The newcomer was human, considerably short despite still being taller than Ace or Benji. Her dark hair was fashioned in a layered, choppy way that seemed to be in trend for young women in Acmetropolis. She leaned against the bar and despite the general odour of alcohol that seemed to permeate the space Ace got a whiff of something clinical from her. Antiseptic?

“Can I please get a virgin mojito?” She had raised her voice to be heard over the steady thrum of sound in the bar, but something about it still came off as impossibly polite. Ace chalked it down to the smile that accompanied the words.

“Coming right up!” Why was Benji yelling?

As his friend turned away, Ace noticed another thing about the girl. This time he couldn’t help but excitedly ask, “You’re a fan of Slam Tasmanian?”

She turned to face him, surprise quickly turning to glee upon noticing him eyeing the Twisted Spinner patch on her bag. “Oh yeah! He’s just great, so great. I’m, uh, actually meeting a friend here to go watch his charity exhibition match at Acme Stadium.”

A part of Ace, the friendly, conversational part of him, wanted to say that he had been planning to go to that same match but had decided against it at the last minute. Mainly because Benji hadn’t paid him back for the last round of lasertag and the remaining money he had would have gone to either that, or rent. It had still been a close call though. So instead he just said, “Lucky. Sounds like it’s going to be a good show.”

“Are you a fan too?”

Ace grinned, “Of course, I have taste.”

This earned him a snort of laughter and when she looked at him again there was a flash of something in her expression. Ace couldn’t place it, but she glanced down and Ace saw her eyes scan across her phone screen before another, more recognisable, look settled on her face: surprise. “Oh my god,” she straightened, jumping a side-step away from the bar table, “I got the wrong bar. But my drink-”

“I’ll pay for it.” Ace waved her off, “You go ahead, have fun.”

She looked like she was about to say something more, and Ace wondered if it was his mind playing tricks on him when it seemed as if she had her phone angled in his direction. But she moved again and the moment was gone. She looked so grateful it was almost as if he had suggested donating his kidney to her as opposed to paying for a drink she didn’t get. 

“Thank you so much. Maybe I can make it up to you sometime, have a nice night!” And she was gone, darting off and out the front door into the chilly August evening. 

(Ace forgets about the encounter within a few weeks. It might have been sooner if it wasn’t for Benji whining about never getting the girl’s number. He stops soon enough when Malia Lynx walks into The Looney Saloon a few days later.

Call it fate, destiny, or scene 3A from the poorly scripted dramatic comedy of their lives, but Ace does end up meeting the girl from the bar again. But that’s more than a year and a whole other story later.)

The thing about growing up with just enough money to scrape by in Acmetropolis is that you learn how to navigate the city to maximise savings. So Sapphire knew which buses offered free rides for students and which subway lines let in healthcare workers for free, both of which she utilised frequently as a nursing student currently attached to AcmeMedical Hospital. She also knew that if she started running, she could also make it there in about the same time it would take her to wait for the bus.

So that was how, 15 minutes later, Lexi Bunny looked up from where she was playing on her phone outside of The Lunar Saloon to see her best friend hurtling down the sidewalk and leaping clear over a bench to pull up beside her. “Took you long enough. How the hell did you end up at The Looney Saloon?” 

Lexi reached into her pocket and produced a tissue, passing it to Sapphire who gladly accepted and began dabbing the sweat from her forehead. “I think I saw that it was closest to the hospital and just, like, assumed. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Lexi shrugged, “We still have plenty of time to make it to the stadium. And if we hurry we might still get some of those vegetarian hot dogs before they run out.”

“Okay,” Sapphire’s breathing was normal, but she had a palm pressed against her side. “Let my spleen calm down a bit Lex, then I’ll start walking.”

Lexi laughed, “I can’t believe you ran all the way here.” She had felt a twinge of annoyance when they realised the mix-up, but the girls could never stay mad at each other for long. “You look great for someone who just hauled ass all the way across the city.”

“Then I’m doing a very good job of hiding it because I promise you I am this close to keeling over.” She straightened up slowly, inhaling through the stitch in her side, “And I might have run over what was either a potted plant or a small child, I’m not sure.”

Lexi patted Sapphire’s elbow. It was the tallest, most sensible body part she could touch without awkwardly stretching to reach for. “Do you want to get a drink before we go? Or did you manage to get a snack?”

“Nah, I’m fine. They’ll be food stalls there.” She grinned, as if suddenly remembering, “I was excited for you to get there though. I met someone. I mean, we talked for maybe two minutes tops, but he seemed nice.”

“Sapph,” Lexi’s raised an eyebrow, “Last I checked you have a very nice, very devoted boyfriend.”

She shook her head, “Oh my god Lexi let me finish. I mean for you. It was this cute bunny guy-”

Lexi decided to not let her friend finish, “Oh my god Sapphire I love you but you’re just so bad at trying to set me up. And with a stranger??”

Sapphire looked indignant, “Hey, I had a good feeling about this one.”

“You say that about everyone! The last guy you set me up with tried to get me to join his cult!”

“Okay in my defense, I really thought he was just super into Dungeons & Dragons.” Sapphire had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, “I didn’t know about the cult thing. His brother seemed perfectly normal in class.”

Lexi rolled her eyes, more fond than anything else, “Fine, fine. Lets just go, we can try and get good seats before it fills up.”

“Oh, he was a fan of Slam Tasmanian too!” 

“Everyone likes Slam! He's Acmetropolis’ wrestling sweetheart!” Lexi laughed, “That doesn’t mean he has good taste, it means he has eyes.”

[anna-something]

I was wondering, if you don't mind! If you could talk a little bit about the Dreamcatcher members and what stands out to you about their personal? styles? From what I gather, it sounds like you have a background? in dance, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

I’m presuming you mean their personal dance styles ?? if so, I’d love to! 

I’ll start off with our main dancer, queen Sua. If I had to pin point one thing about Sua that I love, it’s that she’s unafraid. You can tell when a dancer is scared to hit something *too* much - I can think of many performer’s whom I believe would be 10 times better if they stopped being scared of looking a bit wild/unrestrained. Sua has no problem with this (both on stage and off stage shdgdhsgd). Another tiny aspect I always admire, is her head, shoulder and neck isolation. It’s a pet peeve of mine when someone doesn’t pull down their shoulder blades to properly extend out their posture and neck when they dance. If you rotate your shoulder’s down and away from your ears all your extension lines look sharper and cleaner. Sua being really good at this is important to me as she’s not from a purely ballet/lyrical dance background and instead actually is a commercial and street (our girl did a B-boy comp back in the day) dancer. The training styles are massively different and you can almost always tell by the way someone holds their back but Sua is able to maintain a shoulder positioning that suits both fluid and strong styles, which is hard to do. Her footwork is also ALWAYS amazing. She’s got very quick feet, and something that I think is so utterly *her* is how she adds an extra bounce in each step. She is a wonderfully energetic dancer. I honestly could pin point so many tiny bits of Sua’s dance ability and this could go on forever and ever so I’m gonna leave it here with just one more compliment: her central core control is so good, almost completely isolated from the rest of the body, that all other body parts’ movements are hit with an extra degree of sharpness. (I’d also like to add that Sua’s leg flexibility has been improving over the years of promoting with Dreamcatcher and I’m super hyped to see it)

Now I’ll go down through age order so next up is Jiu. The word I think of first when discussing Jiu’s dance style is ‘refined’. It’s clear she’s trained really really hard and it has payed off phenomenally well. In my opinion, Jiu is one of the cleanest dancers in dreamcatcher - there’s no awkward moments in transition but also, she holds ensemble choreography together really well. There are no awkward body lines when Jiu dances, even in both their strong choreos and their more fluid ones. Jiu is a show dancer, where every move is hit to maximise the aesthetic of the line, of the position. I can’t understate how much of an impressive skill that is and how much it ties in with people describing her as ‘charismatic’. Pulling focus is her thing. Pause on every frame of Jiu dancing and she will look good, no matter what. She’s a dancer you can always trust to look right. 

Siyeon’s best known for her voice (as she should be) but it was weirdly her performance and dance ability that first made me take notice of her upon watching their debut stage (best decision I ever made to check out the new rock girl group lmfao). It’s been pretty much proven that Siyeon’s one of the physically strongest in Dreamcatcher and her dancing *looks* it. It’s almost negligible with dreamcatcher to talk too much about how sharp they are as dancer’s since.. well.. duh.. look at them.. but Siyeon’s got this ability to only a hit a move right at the last second - right at the perfect moment - as hard as she possibly can, when she dances. It’s just intensity from beginning to the end and a lot of that is to do with her physicality (that she doesn’t do any extra working out apart from training as dreamcatcher is truly the cherry on top dghdgbsd). I’ve often seen people reblog my posts of her dancing saying she looks possessed and like,,, they’re not far off. She dances like she *wants* to intimidate you. Side note but Siyeon does seem to have very impressive leg flexibility on her right leg. Combine that with her strength and it makes me think she might have done some kind of martial arts as a kid.

Handong!! Our musical theatre trained ball of talent! She’s actually the person I deem as having had the most ‘traditional’ dance training, as seen by her grand jeté (or split leap) and she’s got the best spotting (following a single point during turns). Click this link and go to 01:19:38 to see what I mean. Handong is the perfect example of how you can *tell* when someone’s had ballet/lyrical training because her back is always more straight than the others. She has by far the best technical extension and with more confidence, I think she’d be able to relax into her movement’s to just get the extra reach I know she has. Her technical (ballet) hands are also gorgeous, I’m always transfixed when she get’s to utilise them. But saying all that, I think Handong is actually at her best when she’s confident enough to showboat dance. So much of dance is believing you’re the best thing on that stage and when Handong is in that mode, you just simply can’t look away from her. Can you get that I want her to be more confident in how good of a dancer she is??? Am I making that clear enough ?? Handong,,,, if you’re out there,,,, you’re so good,, please know that. 

Yoohyeon’s the tallest member of dreamcatcher by quite a bit and being tall and being a dancer isn’t easy (I’m 5ft10, I know this first-hand) and I remember Yoohyeon introducing herself as an awkward tree (lmfao) but she actually is really good at using her body proportions. Being long-limbed means you gotta move quicker to extend properly and she manages it every time. I classify Yoohyeon as a ‘face’ dancer - her body moves it’s best when she’s expressing something, often times using her face. You can really tell that the energy she get’s from other’s is important to her when performing too. A small thing I always notice and adore about Yoohyeon’s dance is her knee is always well aligned with her thighs - a really *really* important part of turn out. It’s visually more appealing and showcases strength but it’s also really good for her health and she’s less likely to injure herself so uh… yey? dhgbsdg. 

Now onto lead dancer Dami! A lot of people don’t click that Dami legit has that title in the group because she (quite rightly) is known for her gravitas on stage when she’s rapping and performing. A huge part of that gravitas? She’s a very VERY clean and sharp dancer. Also let it be known she had a natural talent at spin pole and if anyone knows me they know I’m a pole dancer and pole enthusiast. Skills required for spin pole: incredible core control, good balance and strong arms and legs. Dami’s ticking all the boxes. Being that she has the more masculine aesthetic image in the group, I’m always utterly thrilled to see how she incorporates *who* she is in the way she dances. You can feel completely and utterly how her identity ties in on stage. She called herself the dancing prince for a reason ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Dami’s style is effortless honestly. Like she’s clearly working hard but she doesn’t ever come across she is (which is how all dancer’s want to appear). Do I even need to mention her skill with props too? The dancer’s nightmare is involving props and fucking up but our girl’s cool as a cucumber. 

Finally, we’re at Gahyeon. First things first, I gotta say, she’s a pilates baby and so in turn, she’s extra strong and extra bendy. If you’re unfamiliar with reformer machines (the first contraption) they work by using resistance spring’s on a moving platform. They’re pretty tough. Another link for bendy Gahyeon here and go to 01:18:00. I’m remembering the time she lifted Siyeon on her back from a crouch position in a pair of heeled boots. She’s small but she’s !! mighty!! Her dancing is the most improved in all of dreamcatcher from debut to now (she debuted at what? 17?) She debuted doing all the steps right and synchronised but now she has her own performance style and atmosphere. Gahyeon has said before she’d always wanted to try a ‘sexy’ image in a recent interview so I gotta plug her adult ceremony performance. To do sexy so easily on stage is really tough and I feel like this was a real turning point for her as a stage performer because she’s been so much more confident. I am so ready to see who she’ll grow into even more. Something individual I really wanna point out is her hip flexor rotation ! Of all the girl’s, she and handong had the best fan kick and it also shows in her dancing. 

This got real long but I hope you appreciated my thoughts anon !

[sunsetinmyvein]

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Five - Where’s the Fun in Doin’ What You’re Told?

After his comment when she was leaving the hotel, she had expected Matty to be in pretty regular contact with cheesy one-liners and attempts to win her over. But how much they spoke to each other actually seemed to mysteriously lessen. A part of her wanted to ask him about it, but the other part of her assumed that he was probably just busy finishing off the tour that he was on. Eventually, she had the feeling that she might have worked out why he was suddenly less chatty. It was heard through the grapevine that perhaps a certain band with a certain curly haired frontman were travelling back in her general direction. There were rumours that they might be booked as a last-minute additional headliner for a nation-wide festival to try and move their ticket sales. The day before the news was officially announced, Matty texted her a picture of the line-up for the festival with ‘The 1975’ haphazardly scrawled across the top of it by him.

11:16am You should work this. The line-up looks good.

11:19am I’m not sure, looks pretty meh if you ask me. That headliner is a bit overrated.

11:20am :O

She laughed lightly as his message before just telling him the truth. It surprised her that he hadn’t already heard this news from his bandmates, because it had come up the weekend prior at the party under the conversation starter of ‘things Matty doesn’t know yet’.

11:20am I’m already working it. Got asked to a little while ago.

Her phone started ringing the second after that message had been received.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked as soon as she answered the call.

“I figured you’d find out soon enough.” She answered with a shrug he couldn’t see. “You only just got home, didn’t you? When do you fly out again?” She asked.

“In two days. I won’t be at your stop on the festival tour for a little under two weeks, though.” He explained. From the background noises she could hear, it sounded like he was at a restaurant or café or something. She absent-mindedly wondered who he was out with. “You reckon you can wait that long?” He added.

“I think I’ll survive, Matty.” She replied with a laugh.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend.” He continued, the teasing tone instantly finding its way into his voice.

“Oh, good to know. In which case I will definitely die a slow and painful death by next Wednesday if you don’t get here before then.” She shot back seriously. 

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he began chuckling, “Well, you have to wait until next Sunday before we can hang out. Don’t die before then.” He said. 

“You know that it’s proper work, yeah? I can’t just sit around with you all day.” She asked, knowing full well that festival merch was very different to headline concert merch.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

  * * *

  “This is boring.” Matty groaned from his spot on the floor of the merch tent where he was fiddling with her permanent marker. He’d come down to merch as soon as the band arrived on site, and had been sitting in the merch tent for nearly an hour now. She had tried her best to warn him about the difference between counting in and displaying merch for one headliner and support act compared to a festival line-up with 20 bands that all had a minimum of two shirt designs each, but he hadn’t listened. The workload was especially bad considering her brother wasn’t here, he wasn’t meant to be getting in on his flight from the previous stop on the festival track to help her until well after doors had opened. But Matty insisted on coming down anyway despite this.

“That sounds like a you problem.” She laughed as she continued counting shirts from what felt like the millionth box that she had opened. His company was nice, but it was also fairly distracting. “You could help me, you know.” She added.

“I am helping. I am providing essential company.” He answered as he reached over and pulled a slip of cardboard off the ground.

  “How did you manage to swing coming back here for a national tour so soon after you just left, anyway?” She asked. It had surprised her to hear that he had been able to organise an international tour to the same country twice within as many months. It didn’t seem very viable to the band to be back in the same spot so quickly.

“We had downtime once we finished up the tour that we were on.” He shrugged. “I just suggested that we find something else to do and saw this. Put it to Jamie that we offer to be a last-minute addition to the set and he sorted it.”

“Isn’t downtime meant to be for actually having a break from this stuff?” She asked as she moved onto the next box.

“Downtime is boring.” He huffed.

“Burning the candle at both ends a bit there, Matty.”

“Death is inevitable, and I’d rather die busy than die bored.” He deadpanned. She glanced over at him, expecting him to be having some deep philosophical moment over this information. But there he was, sitting on the floor of her merch tent, scrawling a drawing of a dog on a piece of cardboard in permanent marker. “Look, it’s Allen.” He said with a grin as he held up the drawing.

  As much as he felt like boredom was about to overtake him, Matty was adamant on hanging out in the merch tent for as long as he could. She had actively set him a challenge by telling him that she’d never say that she was into him. He already knew full well that at least a part of her was, even if only for superficial reasons, because she wouldn’t react to him in the ways that she did if she wasn’t. It was potentially a bit arrogant of him, but he had pretty good reason to believe that he was fairly proficient on picking up other people’s signals and being charming. So, her comment was just a red flag to a bull; to say that she’d never tell him something like that. He had been thinking on the best way to go about it, and certainly step one was to maximise the amount of time that they were actually in each other’s space. Being able to come out for the festival was something in the interim until he could come up with a more concrete idea, but he wasn’t about to waste any time that he had available. Step two was that he had to work out the right buttons to press to get her to admit that she fancied him. There was a fine line between being a sleaze and being charmingly flirtatious. He liked to think that he walked that line pretty well. But nonetheless he had to be careful that he was pressing the right buttons, and not crossing that line by pressing the wrong ones. That was going to be a meticulous process of trial and error. He watched her with mild curiosity as she worked around the tent, trying to think of half decent ways to get her attention.

  “Give us your phone.” He said after a few minutes of silence.

“Why?” She asked without looking up from the numbers she was entering into her spreadsheet.

“So that I can play some tunes.” He answered.

“Just play music off your own phone?” She frowned as she glanced down at him.

“International roaming is expensive and I know that you have stuff downloaded. Please?” He asked with a sappy smile. She rolled her eyes before grabbing her phone out of her pocket and handing it to him. As soon as he opened her phone, he saw that it was still sitting on their text chain and then noticed that his number was still… just that, his number. Not his name. Not a dorky nickname. Not anything. “Hey! Why haven’t you saved my number? It’s been nearly two months since I gave you that!”

“Why are you snooping through my phone?” She asked with a slight laugh. “I know who you are, I don’t have to save it. Maybe I’m trying to value your privacy in case certain people in my life decide to search through my phone when they’re meant to be playing music.” That second part about valuing his privacy was an afterthought to cover her own laziness for not having saved his contact, but it sounded good.

“Not my fault that you had it open on our conversation history.” He mumbled under his breath, shrugging as he quickly saved his contact as a kissing emoji.

  A little while passed in silence, and she was beginning to get worried that he actually was going through her phone looking for something. There wasn’t anything too incriminating on there, but if he went into the right conversations on the right apps he might find some comments she had made about him that she’d rather he didn’t know. “Are you gonna play something, or what?” She asked after about ten minutes of him scrolling, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice.

“In a minute, I’m just making a playlist.” He answered. Shortly after that, the beginning of Feeling This by Blink 182 filled the tent. She nodded her head in approval at his choice, having not heard the song in a while. It wasn’t until a few songs had passed that she was beginning to notice a common theme in his playlist. XO, Situations, Lying Is the Most Fun, Shake It… these were all songs blatantly about sex. Sure as anything, as soon as she realised what he was doing, Sex by The 1975 started playing. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“I am beginning to sense some underlying messages here.” She chuckled, leaning against the counter to face him.

“Hm?” He questioned, looking up at her in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb, Matty.” She said as she shook her head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What underlying messages?” He asked innocently. As soon as she went to call him out on it, the doubt in the back of her mind set in that maybe it was just a coincidence. There were about 4,000 songs on her phone, it was possible, albeit unlikely, that maybe it was just chance. Was she just pulling a pattern together herself? Unless he just wanted her to think that it was all in her head? That sounded like something he’d do. The longer she took to answer, the worse the smirk on his face got.

  Thankfully before she had to dive headfirst into that conversation, there was a noise from the other side of the tent. “You both still alive in there?” A familiar voice called as George poked his head in through the door.

“George! Hey!” She grinned as he stepped inside over Matty’s legs and pulled her in for a hug. “Good to see you.” She added as she hugged him back tightly.

“Hi, love! Hope he hasn’t been too painful?” He asked as he gestured down to their friend on the floor. She looked behind George at Matty, only to see him smiling up at her unassumingly. The music had also mysteriously stopped.

“He’s been… interesting.” She laughed. He just gave an over exaggerated wink in response.

“Well, I am here to take him off your hands.” He said as he offered a hand out to the frontman. “Doors are in thirty, Matt. Come on.” Matty grabbed his hand, standing up with a sigh. The two of them headed out of the tent, and she was glad that she might finally be able to get the last of her work done.

“Oh, wait!” She heard Matty shout as he suddenly came barrelling back into the merch tent, a wristband in hand. “Here, you need one of these.” He said as he took her left wrist in his hand and secured the all access wristband. He intentionally let his movements linger, and it didn’t go unnoticed. She just looked at him sceptically as he pulled his hands away, trying to work out what the hell he was doing. If he could work out her weak spots, he could easily use them to his advantage. He would just have to keep testing the waters until he hit the mark. “See you later!” He shouted as he ran out to catch up with George.

“What are you doing?” The drummer asked him with a tired look.

“Nothin’.” He shrugged, smiling to himself.

  The half an hour until doors opened flew by in no time at all, and soon the torrent of concert goers started to flow in through the gates. Management running the festival had told her that it was sold out, and festivals were generally a much higher capacity than a regular concert, so it was anticipated to be a pretty busy day. Especially when she was working by herself for the first half of it. She hadn’t quite been able to finish all of the set up by the time that she had to start serving customers, probably in thanks to Matty, which meant that the first hour of selling shirts was also coupled with folding the remaining shirts. But time goes quickly when you’re busy, so it was not long at all before her brother suddenly appeared in the tent, and then by their powers combined the sales were through the roof. The merch tent ran like a well-oiled machine when the two of them worked together, and the more they sold the more efficient it got. It wasn’t until her phone buzzed in her pocket that she snapped out of Sales ModeTM and came back to reality. It had been nearly six hours of solid selling, and she was starting to feel the effects of standing up for so long. She was probably due for a break soon. Which, apparently Matty shared the same sentiment. Or, at least that’s who she assumed the new contact that was listed as just a winking kiss emoji was. She had to chuckle a little at his choice of contact name.

3:46pm Come hang out.

3:52pm Can’t. Have to work.

She shot back as another person stepped up to the counter. She would have to wait until it got a bit quieter before she got her chance to go grab some food.

3:53pm Just get someone else to cover.

3:59pm There isn’t anyone else to cover. I’m here to work, I can’t just dick around with you all day.

  The sales continued, the sun started dipping a bit lower in the sky, the bands on stage came and went. By this point in the day the festival was in full swing, and it was slowly but surely dying down at the merch tent. The people that were lining up now were the ones who took a million years to decide, then had to message their friend to check if they should get that shirt or the other shirt, and then in the end said ‘I’ll be back later’ only to never return. As she was waiting patiently for any of them to step up and actually buy something, she heard her name being called from the back of the merch tent. She turned to see her brother on the phone to someone.

“Can you go grab a few boxes for me?” He asked with a pleading look, covering the receiver with his other hand. “Apparently there’s some back behind catering that are a part of a giveaway or something. I’ll hold down the fort here if you can go get them.” He added, before gesturing out to the few people still trying to make up their minds outside.

“Yeah, no problem.” She nodded with a smile before ducking out of the tent.

  It took a few minutes and chatting to a couple of security guards to work out where exactly catering was, but eventually she found it tucked behind a few of the food vans. As she circled the pop-up tent, she realised that she wasn’t entirely sure what sort of boxes she was looking for. Were they small boxes or big boxes? Should she have brought a trolley? Were they many huge boxes full of heavy hoodies or a couple of small boxes with posters in them? Shit. Who would she get to help bring them back if she couldn’t carry them all? Maybe she’d just have to make a few trips? Suddenly, all of her questions were answered. She rolled her eyes as she saw the curly haired boy sitting on the two boxes that she assumed she was meant to grab, joint in hand and staring idly around the venue. “I really should’ve known that you’d be here.” She chuckled as she walked over to Matty. He glanced up at her in curiosity, then looked down at the boxes he was sitting on.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Are these your boxes?” He asked innocently as he stood up off of them.

“They do say ‘for merch’ on the side.” She pointed out.

“That could mean anything.” He shrugged as she picked one of them up. It was oddly light.

“Are these empty?” She asked as she picked the other up as well. As she flipped open the lid, her suspicions were confirmed. “Did you put these two boxes together?” She narrowed her eyes at him in accusation.

“How strange…” Matty hummed quietly, opting to ignore the question. “While you’re here, d’you fancy a quick drink?” He added casually.

  Of course. Of course he had managed to get her out of the merch tent and here to hang out with him. She pulled her phone out with a sigh, quickly verifying what the time was. It was just past five. She had started work at nine that morning. It was probably as good a time as any to take a break. Once it began getting dark there was going to be the usual small rush of people realising that they hadn’t brought enough layers and needed to purchase more, so it only made sense to take a break now rather than later. It was just purely coincidental that she was going to take it with Matty. She flicked her brother a quick text to let him know that she was going to take her break while she was out, and also that the boxes were not for them, before slipping her phone back into her pocket.

“Only if we get food too.” She agreed, laughing a little as she watched the satisfied grin split across his face. “You sort drinks, I’ll sort food.” She added. He gave a sharp nod before looking around for somewhere he could actually get a drink from. A large part of him had expected her to say no and to just go back to work, so he hadn’t really expected to get this far. While he jogged off in search of alcohol, she made her way to the first food van she saw and placed an order; pickiness wasn’t really an option when you were hungry with limited time. And given how many people were already here at the show it was likely that all the food vans would have a decent wait time before she actually got anything to eat. As she waited for the food to be ready, she took a quick look around the festival to see if she could spot where Matty had run off to. He was at a bar across the way, chatting to the female bartender who was running the till. There was clearly a lot of flirting going on. Lots of arm touching and laughing and Matty was just leaning right over that counter to be in her personal space. It had become pretty apparent in the time that she had known him that he was just a generally flirty and charismatic guy. She had seen it a little bit at the shows, but it had been very obvious at the party the other week. Which was fine. That was just him. She could accept that. But it didn’t make it any easier to watch him be like that with other people. Not that she was jealous, being jealous would mean that she specifically wanted that attention directed towards her, which she totally didn’t, it was just- The call for her order thankfully snapped her out of her thoughts before they went down that rabbit hole of justification.

  As she turned around with the food, she saw that Matty was walking back with a triumphant look on his face and two bottles in his hands.

“Free drinks!” He cheered as he handed her one of the ciders and kept on walking right past her.

“Where are you going?” She asked with a frown.

“Dressing room.” He shouted back over his shoulder. “It’ll be quieter there and I’ve got some stuff to do.” He explained, cracking open his bottle and taking a swig from it.

“Oh, so you can work, but I can’t?” She laughed as she began following him, trying to balance the food in one hand with her drink in the other.

“You only work because of me.” He answered with a smug look.

“Other bands exist besides yours. You know that, right?” She asked.

“Yeah, but they aren’t as good. My band is the best out there. So, we pretty much have a monopoly on the gig industry. We own you.” What might have started as a serious sentiment on his part quickly devolved into a joke, and as much as he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn’t help but laugh when she scoffed at what he had said.

“You wish you had a monopoly on merch. I don’t think I’d ever get anything done if you were my boss.” She chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. That didn’t sound like such a bad thing… Her words had given him an idea. But he’d have to fire off a few texts tomorrow to see if it had any possibility of working.

  They finally reached the backstage area after a couple of wrong turns around all of the tents that looked exactly the same. That was the downside of outdoor festivals, everything was a temporary setup hired from the same company. So, everything was exactly the same style of tent. The two of them sat down, eating their food in silence for a little bit before Matty decided he had better start to get ready for their set. “Which do you prefer,” He said as he held up two separate outfits. “go all out with the suit, or stick to basics with the shirt and ripped jeans?” He was hoping that this question might give him a bit of insight into which look she preferred on him, but the blank look and noncommittal shrug weren’t exactly helpful.

“It’s your show.” She answered before taking another bite of her food truck dinner.

“Yeah, but…” He started, before deciding that explaining himself was going to take too long and probably detract from his aura of confidence. “Never mind.” He said with a sigh, deciding to just stick with the shirt and jeans for the sake of comfort and consistent image.

  After quickly changing he came back into the green room to sort out his hair. He had been feeling like he was probably overdue for a haircut. It was at that awkward length where it was not short enough to stay out of his eyes and not long enough to properly sort it out. Gelling it back seemed like the best option for the meantime. As he was messing about with his hair, he caught her staring at him through the mirror. He combed the gel through his hair and looked back at her with an eyebrow raised. “What?” He asked after a moment.

“Why are you gelling it back?” She asked with a frown.

“I just get annoyed by how it gets in my way sometimes.” He answered, shrugging slightly.

“Hmph. Fair enough.” She did not seem happy about this information. He found that far too amusing. 

“You prefer the bed head look?” He asked with a mischievous smirk spreading across his face. He could work with that information.

“It’s just-”

“No, no, I get it. It’s very close in similarity to the post-sex look so I can see the appeal.” The smirk had spread into a grin at this point as he watched her cheeks redden.

She just shook her head at him, “Why are you like this...”

  “Matt, did you end up sorting-” Ross began saying as he waltzed into the room, before looking up from his phone and spotting Y/N/N sitting in there as well. “Oh, hello!” He said with a smile. “What’re you doin’ here?” He asked as he sat next to her on the couch and stole one of her chips.

“Got dragged here by him.” She answered, gesturing towards Matty who was still messing with his hair in the mirror.

He nodded in understanding. “How’s merch going?” He questioned.

“It’s going good! I think we’ve already hit the expected sales total per head, so it’s only up from here.” She said eagerly, proud to finally get to tell someone that they were doing really well today.

“Well, I hope it’s not taking too much of your energy, the boys and I were sort of hoping you’d come out for a drink with us after.” He offered as he nudged her shoulder with his own.

“Which boys were thinking that?” Matty asked instantly as he spun around from the mirror.

“Obviously the ones that aren’t you.” Ross stated. “You wanna come out for a few?” He asked again.

“Yeah! I’d love to.” She beamed. The band had been excellent company the last time that she had the pleasure of hanging out with them and she was keen for the chance to get to know them better. “I’ll be finishing later than you guys, though. Probably a couple of hours later as long as that’s okay?” She questioned hesitantly.

“It shouldn-”

“Of course, it’s fine!” Matty interrupted. The two of them glanced over at him, before continuing to chat between themselves.

  Eventually, the other two members of The 1975 found their way to the green room, and it wasn’t long after that before she had to regrettably head back to work. As much as they were fun to be around, she had a job to do. They all agreed to head to a nearby bar after the show and that she would meet them there once she’d finished up her shift. She stood up from her spot on their couch, already halfway out of the room before Matty called her name.

“I’ll walk you back to the merch tent?” He offered, not really waiting for a response before getting up out of his seat and walking out with her. “Are you gonna come watch the show?” He asked offhandedly as he lit up a cigarette.

“I can see the stage from merch pretty well, so I’ll probably just stay there.” She shrugged.

“You’re not gonna come up to watch?” He questioned with a ridiculous pout on his face. 

“Why? So that you can wink at me any time there’s a mildly suggestive lyric?” She shot back with a laugh. He’d been overly flirty all day today, which was saying something since the usual amount was already pretty high.

“I’m only trying to look out for you, love. I just want to make sure that you can have the best possible view when I take my shirt off during the set.” He said casually. She looked over at him, expecting a wink or suggestive expression or something, but he was just acting like he hadn’t said anything at all.

  The rest of the festival went by very quickly. There were a few more customers to serve, then it wasn’t long until The 1975 went on. She couldn’t tell from where she was at merch if Matty had been telling the truth or not, but it was probably better that she wasn’t able to confirm that information. Once their set was finished it seemed that people just wanted to head out of the venue and go home. It was a nice relief to not have an after show rush, it meant that they could begin packing up earlier than expected. By the time that she finally got to the bar that they agreed to meet at, it was just after midnight. She had rushed through a couple of aspects of count out, opting to do the rest tomorrow morning so that she had more time with her friends tonight. The band were incredibly easy to spot as she walked in, namely because Matty was currently in the midst of trying to wrestle a phone away from Adam.

  “Just give me the phone, Hann!” He shouted, practically climbing over the table to try and get to it.

“Only when you agree to turn the damn thing off.” He argued as he scooted back in his chair to avoid his prying hands.

“Calm down you two.” She laughed as she walked up to their table. Matty instantly stopped what he was doing, looking up at her in surprise before abruptly sitting back into his seat. As he did, Adam threw the phone over to him without saying another word. She felt like she had interrupted something.

“Good to see you. Take a seat.” George smiled, gesturing to the empty space in the booth next to him. “How was work?” He asked in an attempt to break the tension that had apparently settled around the table.

“We did really well.” She answered with a grin. “How was the show?” She asked back.

“It was also really good!” Ross chimed in as he took a sip from his beer.

“The crowd were rowdy as hell.” George agreed with a nod, before giving Matty a knowing look. His face lit up as he remembered something that had happened during their gig.

“I have the best story for you about what happened when we played Give Yourself a Try-” He began, leaning over the table eagerly as he launched into it.

  The conversation flowed easily once George had worked his magic and moved everyone away from Matty’s awkwardness. Adam had taken his phone away from him when he wouldn’t stop checking it for the last hour, waiting for messages about when she was going to get to the bar. Apparently Matty had been unable to recover from the pure shock of seeing the person that he was waiting for magically appear at the table. Normally he was pretty good socially, but once he’d had a few drinks and was staring at things through rose coloured glasses, he could be a right mess. George had a feeling that Matty wasn’t going to own up to that, though. So, for his best friend’s sake, he could get everyone to forget that it had happened. The time passed quickly with the five of them having fun, and it was not long at all before glasses were running empty.

“I think I need another drink.” Matty said, motioning that he wanted to make his way out of the booth.

“Don’t stress! I’ll go get us another round.” Y/N/N offered quickly as she stood up, not wanting to bear witness to another round of her favourite game: Watching Matty Flirt with Bartenders.

  As she waited at the counter, the reason that she had gotten up ended up following her anyway. He leaned on the bar, fiddling with the coasters sitting on it. “Come here often?” He asked nonchalantly. She didn’t respond at first, unsure if he was joking or legitimately asking. “Name’s Matty. I’ll buy you a drink?” He offered as he held his hand out for a handshake.

“You’re such a twat.” She laughed, shoving him lightly in the shoulder. He grinned in response, making a mental note that she had probably reacted best to his dorky jokes out of everything else that he had attempted today.

“I came up to help you carry the drinks.” He explained as the bartender brought them over. They scooted back into the booth, handing the drinks out and diving back into the conversation.

  It was hard not to notice during their discussions that Matty was pretty good at being the loudest opinion at the table and was also very proficient at talking over his friends. It was especially apparent when he was enthusiastic about a topic. She could see that after two decades of being together, the other three men were just used to it at this point in their lives. George especially seemed to receive the majority of it. As the boys chatted about heading back home tomorrow, she noticed Matty’s arm making its way across the back of the booth behind her. She gave him a sceptical look as he did it, but he didn’t look away from his friend’s conversation. A part of her wondered if maybe he had jumped up to help her at the bar so that they’d have to be sitting next to each other when they came back…

  Eventually after a few moments he spoke up. “Admit it.” He said in a low voice as he leant in closer to her.

“Admit what?” She asked in confusion, frowning up at him.

“That you’re into me.” He elaborated as he turned to her with a smirk. Ah. She understood why he had been acting different all day now. He was trying to con her into confessing feelings for him. Not that there was anything to confess.

“What? No.” She laughed.

“But you are.” He argued with a cocky expression, sounding far too sure of himself for comfort.

“Am not.” She maintained.

“Cut it out, kids.” George said to them without looking away from Ross. Matty wasn’t about to argue with George after he bailed him out earlier, but he wasn’t done pushing the point either. He’d need to find more time to talk to her. However, he knew that wasn’t likely to happen tonight.

  By nearly two in the morning, they collectively decided that they should begin winding up their night. She had started work at nine that morning and the fifteen-hour work day was quickly catching up with her. And the band had a flight to catch the next day. The five of them stood outside the bar, watching as the last few stragglers made their way home. George, Ross and Adam all said their goodbyes, exchanging hugs and saying that they were looking forward to seeing her again at some point. They took a few polite steps away, giving Matty the chance to say bye without them hanging around to give him shit for it.

“You’re welcome to come back to the hotel.” Matty suggested with an eyebrow raised. She let out a sigh, ready to decline the offer but he continued. “For real, though, funny business aside. The hotel is closer to here than your place.” He said, his tone instantly switching from joking to serious.

“It’s okay, I’d rather get a good night’s sleep in my own bed.” She replied. “I have to finish up a few things with the stock tomorrow back at the warehouse, anyway. Thank you, though.” She added with a smile.

“It’s all right.” He nodded, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. “Was good seeing you, as always. Get home safe.” He said as he pulled her in for a tight hug. He still had that familiar smell of stage sweat clinging to him around his usual combination of weed and charity shop clothes. As soon as he moved back, she was already missing his company. Any day with him always ended up being an exceptional one and she hadn’t realised how much she missed being around him until he was back again. If she was totally honest with herself, a part of her probably was into him. But she was glad that she wouldn’t have to see him for a while and deal with that. Having feelings for someone like him would not be fun to confront. He turned and started walking back to his friends, already writing the text messages in his head that he had to send off tomorrow.

 Last Chapter

Next Chapter

[shipping-receiving]

Fictober 2019 Day 7: “No, and that’s final.”

Rating: T | Word Count: 2219 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones Relationship: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern Setting

(read on AO3)

//////

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please, Jaime.”

“No, Brienne.”

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like, as often as you want.”

“You like it too, and you already do it as often as I want.”

“It’s still honest work!”

“And the answer is still no. In any case, I no longer trust any of your promises.”

“Why not?”

“You said we were just coming here to volunteer for the day. It’ll be a good distraction, Jaime, from everything that’s going on, you said. You promised we weren’t going to leave this shelter with a cat. All. Lies.”

“Those things were true when I said them!” Brienne snuggles the cat in her arms. “But this one has been stuck here for so long, Jaime. Look at it. It looks so sad.”

Jaime does look at it, and it does not look sad. It looks extremely grumpy and fed up with this whole situation. It might even be trying to escape from Brienne, though it’s no match for her strength. Do cats even come in that colour? Or shape? Or size? It looks like an average-sized cat in Brienne’s arms. And Brienne is not average-sized.

“Maybe it’s been here for so long because it barely even looks like a cat. People probably thought it was a mistake.”

Brienne glares at him. “Jaime! Don’t be mean!”

“It’s not as if it can understand what I’m saying!”

“The first time we met, you said I barely looked like a woman. And look where we are now.”

Oh no, she did not just— “You do not get to pull that card just so you can adopt a cat. I have more than redeemed myself for that comment.”

This must be one of the strangest arguments he’s ever had with Brienne. And that’s counting the ones they had before they were even friends, let alone… boyfriend-and-girlfriend? Lovers? Partners? Life partners? They had never really talked about labels. At first, they had hated each other. And then they didn’t. And then they were spending more and more time together, besides that one month—never mind, he doesn’t want to think about that. And then it was kind of like they were dating, maybe? And then she was barely sleeping in her own bed, at her own apartment. One day, he asked her to move in with him. She thought about it for the next month, then broke her lease. And after all of that, there’s been all the… the everything-that’s-going-on.

Jaime would never regret asking her to move in with him in the first place, but now she wants this ‘cat’ to move in with them too, and that had never been on the table. Brienne likes cats, he knows, but he thought it was at the level of petting stray cats on the street, and feeding them a treat if she happens to have some on her. She never said anything about owning one until now, and the one she falls in love with is this. This… ‘cat’. It is not only a very strange ‘cat’, it is also a very furry ‘cat’, and he doesn’t want its fur all over his very expensive furniture.

In addition to that crucial point, Lannisters don’t have pets. They just… don’t. He wonders what his father would think of all of this, if his father were still alive. Tyrion, he knows, wouldn’t be able to stop laughing. “Even if I could believe you enjoying the company of a non-human life form, Jaime, that looks nothing like a cat,” his brother would say, upon seeing the beast. Cersei would—

Well, best not to think about his sister. She’s part of the reason Brienne dragged him to the shelter in the first place. A good distraction, Jaime scoffs in his own head. I am the victim of a con.

“Come on, Jaime,” Brienne pleads again, and widens her blue eyes at him in exactly the way she knows he can’t resist. “I swear, I’ll do all the work. Feed him—” oh, it’s a ‘him’ now, not just an ‘it’— “change his litter, take him to the vet, everything. I’ll carry a lint roller on me at all times. I’ll carry two lint rollers. You won’t even have to lift a finger.”

“No, Brienne, and that’s final.”

It was not final.

Jaime found, once again, that he could never be entirely immune to Brienne’s inexplicable charms. He doesn’t even know if charms is the right word for it. She just manages to make him feel so heartless and—he thinks the right word might be dishonourable, even in this day and age—when he doesn’t go along with what she wants. What she wants, in fairness, is usually something honourable, like giving a ‘cat’ a good home.

In his defence, she did do the whole… eye thing. When they had first met, she walked around like she wanted to fold her body into herself. Now she’s learned to maximise her best assets. She has an eye thing, and it is immensely persuasive.

Jaime did, however, manage to wrangle naming privileges from Brienne. And so Jaime dubbed the beast ‘Bear’, much to her chagrin, even though she had to concede that Bear does look more like a miniature grizzly than his own species. Jaime did also offer the alternative name of “Cat”, on the condition that they include the quotation marks on any paperwork, and do the stipulated air quotes every time they refer to the animal by name. Brienne refused immediately. You can’t give him a name with punctuation, Jaime, she groaned. Alright then. Bear it is, he responded, triumphantly.

Bear is curled up in Jaime’s lap right now, purring away. Gods, it’s really much uglier in daylight. It’s been three months and he still thinks so. But the damn thing loves him. Oh, Bear shows Brienne some cursory devotion when he needs to. He’ll rub against her calf, ask her for the food and treats he knows she’ll give him. But if Bear has to choose between both of their laps, he always chooses Jaime’s. Jaime is even starting to think that Bear only tries to scratch his very expensive furniture because he knows Jaime will pick him up immediately. And then Bear holds on to Jaime for dear life, and refuses to let go. If Jaime manages to get him off, he goes right for the couch, claws at the ready, until Jaime grabs him again, and gets swindled into another cuddle. What was all that crap about cats being antisocial? He’s got himself one manipulative, overly-affectionate brute.

Nonetheless, Jaime has to be grateful to Bear for one thing: ever since they got him, it’s gone some way to mend the rift between him and his niece and nephew—his children. It was a rift that had formed after they had discovered, in the process of Cersei’s divorce from Robert, that Jaime was their biological father (how they managed to keep that out of the papers was some kind of miracle).

Of course, Bear had no impact on his relationship with their eldest. Joffrey is a lost cause, off wreaking havoc at some university to which Cersei must have donated a generous amount, given that the boy has neither the brains nor the discipline to get accepted legitimately. Jaime doesn’t want to be a father to Joffrey, quite frankly. He is the worst parts of Cersei and Robert combined, even if his blood is all Lannister.

But Jaime does care about his relationship with Myrcella and Tommen, which had been tender, if distant, before the paternity tests, and had taken an understandable turn for the worse after. And that was made considerably more painful by the fact that since the divorce, Cersei—whether out of instability, or nonchalance, or just being Cersei—has taken to leaving Myrcella and Tommen with him for extended periods. Days at a time, even, and going off to do Gods-knows-what. Thankfully, Jaime has an extra bedroom and a comfortable pull-out couch in his home office, which is a room he barely uses anyway. Plus, his apartment isn’t too far from either of their schools.

And Brienne has been a saint about it all, of course. Even though Cersei often couldn’t decide which was more vexing to her—Brienne’s presence in Jaime’s life, or Myrcella and Tommen’s presence in her own.

Still, the first few times the children had stayed with their uncle-turned-father were… trying. At least, it had been that way with Myrcella, who seemed to fluctuate between sullen and irate, all her negativity directed at him, at her mother, at Robert, at the world in general, and even on rare occasions at Brienne. Tommen just seemed unsure as to what to do, and took to following his sister’s example, in terms of the sullenness, if not the irateness.

In the era of Bear, though, things seem to be looking up. Tommen was beyond excited when he found out that Jaime finally has the cat that Cersei would never let Tommen have. Jaime’s neph—his son—began opening up to him in a way that he thought would never happen. Myrcella, too, is starting to warm up to Jaime, swayed as she is by Bear and how much the ‘cat’ loves him. It seems that Bear, like Brienne, has his own inexplicable charms.

“You planned this all along, didn’t you?” he had asked Brienne one night, nodding towards Bear. The ‘cat’ was nestled at their feet, on Jaime’s ludicrously expensive duvet cover, instead of in his own ludicrously expensive heated cat bed. “Bear, and the kids.”

“Maybe I did,” she had said, with a small smile. “Tommen told me how much he wanted one when we saw one of the strays out on the street. I thought it was worth trying, to help with the kids. But I didn’t want you to get disappointed if it failed, so I didn’t tell you. I’m glad it turned out better than I expected.”

“You’re better than I deserve, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t be with you if you were less than I deserve, as I always remind you when you say such things.”

“I know, I know. Speaking of the kids, I… I’ve been thinking.” Jaime had been thinking about it for weeks, actually, but he had felt too nervous to broach the subject with Brienne till then. “About… custody. I haven’t spoken to a lawyer yet, so I’m not really sure what my options are. But they’re here so often, these days. And… I don’t think things are going very well back home, with Cersei.”

“No. I don’t think so.” Myrcella had told Brienne some things, Jaime knew, though Brienne had promised his daughter to keep them secret for now.

“Will you mind, if they’re here even more often? Or… permanently? I—I know you didn’t sign up for all of this. My past, and… everything.”

“I signed up for you, didn’t I?” was her reply. “I knew enough, before we even started dating.” In fact, when she had first found out—or rather, first confirmed the rumours that had swirled around the Lannisters for years—she hadn’t spoken to him for a whole month. He had thought he had lost her friendship forever, young and shaky as it was back then. “People have their histories,” she continued, as if Jaime’s history isn’t infinitely more fucked up than most. “You’ve had to deal with a fair share of mine.”

Jaime had kissed her, then.

As he runs his fingers through Bear’s fur, he thinks about how he’s had to deal with Brienne’s histories, all her traumas. They still manifest, in small ways, every day. But what he’s done for her, it seems like nothing compared to what’s he’s asking her to do. She didn’t think she was going to be living with anyone other than him when she moved in, first of all, and now there’s a child and a teenager in their apartment more than half the time. And she’s had to become a sort of—guardian to the kids, alongside him. He doesn’t really know what else to call her, or himself, since Robert is still their father on paper. Of course the man hasn’t been around lately, not that he was a particularly present father for the two younger children when he and Cersei were still married, between his businesses and his mistresses.

But if Jaime does become their father, legally—he’s not looking forward to discussing this with Cersei—what would Brienne be, then? He supposes she’d be their stepmother, perhaps, if she agrees when he finally asks her to marry him. He expects she will take weeks, maybe months, to give him an answer. She knows what she’d be signing up for, marrying Jaime. That’s a decision that will take time.

Anyway, they’ll work it out eventually. They always do, him and Brienne. In the meantime, he will sit here with this ‘cat’ that looks nothing like a cat, a ‘cat’ who couldn’t care less about Jaime’s history. Even if his feline brain could comprehend any of it, Jaime has the sneaking suspicion that Bear might love him regardless of it all.

Once, Jaime thought he had done far too many terrible things in his life to warrant such a love. A love, regardless. But—that was a long time ago.

That was before Brienne.

[kaibagirl007]

Come Undone 6/6

( the final part of a mini side-fic series to accompany my RP with @dragontamer05 )

“Time travel… save Kisara… prevent this bullshit… ” Kaiba mumbled repeatedly as he made his way down from his bedroom and to the basement laboratory. The sudden epiphany had struck him at the most inconvenient of times, but once his mind had focused on the idea, it was all he could think about. “Time travel… save Kisara… prevent this bullshit…”

Once in the laboratory, he headed straight towards the computer with its multiple monitor screens and readied the graphics tablet. First, he had to design the time machine. Should he opt for a stationary pod or some kind of vehicle? The latter would be more practical in helping to generate the energy and velocity needed to break through the space-time continuum, but would he be able to construct a runway big enough to achieve that? It was quite possible he might need a whole continent worth of unobstructed straight open-space to gather such quantity required, so what about travelling vertically instead?  No, he’d then have gravity to contend with. Unless he could somehow utilise the natural force to his advantage…

The pen suddenly sped across the tablet as Kaiba sketched his idea for a towering elevator shaft all the way into space. He then began to mumble incoherently whilst jotting down an array of formulas alongside it. “Trajectory… maximise momentum… pierce spacetime… dilation… goal.” A manic grin formed on his face as he began working on more detailed calculations that would enable him to put his theory into practice.

’Not what I would have advised…’ Seto commented as he stood with folded arms whilst watching his descendant work. ‘…but at least he is taking this seriously now.’

‘Seriously?’ Atem scoffed and eyed his cousin sceptically as he stood beside him. ‘He’s high, wearing nothing more than a shirt and underpants, and devising a plan that will most likely end in disaster for himself and/or others if it is ever implemented!’

’So you do not think he will succeed?’

’That’s not what I said.’  A frustrated glare was given before elaboration was made. ’If Kaiba were to dedicate all his time to this and doesn’t inadvertently kill himself in the process, there’s every chance he WILL succeed with such a ludicrous idea. My concern is, just WHEN does he plan to save Kisara? If he intends to prevent her kidnapping, then all is well; the fractures won’t form in their relationship and they’d remain together. But, if on the other hand he still feels himself unworthy of her, then he could quite possibly take things to the extreme and prevent her untimely death back in our time.’

‘And that would be disastrous, because…?’

‘Because history from then on would change! Don’t you see, Seto? If Kisara never sacrificed herself, you would go on to wed her instead of your actual wife. Therefore your children would not be born, and their children, and so forth. Your reign as pharaoh would also differ; that is if you even rule at all since there’s also the possibility you might have died without Kisara’s intervention.‘

‘Yet the world would know no different,’ A tired drawl interjected. ’If my death occurred back then, at least Kisara’s soul would remain free… Alterations are not always a bad thing.’

‘You’re prepared to erase the last 3000 years, just like that, and justify it in the name of love?!’

‘Yes.’

 ‘Humph!’ 

‘Do not scorn me for something you have NOT experienced!’ Seto snapped at the judgmental gaze that remained unfazed by his outburst. ‘I am perfectly aware that my decision is selfish. But if it were you in my shoes to make the choice between reliving a mortal life or stuck in eternal solitude, I dare say you too would make the same decision.’

Eternal solitude. Those two words said it all and caused Atem to take a moment to see things from the other’s perspective. Both of them had spent 3000 years, their souls trapped, isolated, and barred from the afterlife. Whilst his own denial was now over, his cousins were still ongoing. Not only that but whereas he was peacefully oblivious to the passing of time with no memories to recall, Seto had retained all of his. As if residing in limbo wasn’t bad enough, what torture must it have been to spend such a long period of time alone and haunted by the past with no end in sight? No wonder he’s so reluctant to return to such a place of despair. 

‘I understand you’ve lost faith in the gods, feel as though they have forsaken you, and are desperately clinging to any scrap of hope you can find to ensure the prophecy is fulfilled and therefore able to move on to the afterlife,’ Atem spoke calmly to the man by his side. ‘But you are only torturing yourself more by watching Kaiba’s every move.’

‘I would rather be here by his side than all by myself with my thoughts.’ Seto replied whilst watching his descendant fill the computer screen with more equations and diagrams. 

‘You won’t be all by yourself. The gods gave me free rein between worlds. I’ll stay with you until this whole thing finally resolves, no matter how long it may take.’

Curiously tilting his head to the side as he turned to face the other, Seto asked, ’Despite your own imprisonment inside the puzzle, you would choose to give up your freedom and instead reside in a barren void just to keep me company?’

‘Of course,’ Atem smiled up at the perplexed gaze. ‘It’s the least I could do as my show of thanks for the things you did to ensure I too could proceed to the afterlife.’

‘And yet you waste that very opportunity.’ A sigh was given and eyes diverted back to his descendant now calculating centrifugal forces. ‘I appreciate what you are trying to do, Atem, but if he does not fulfil the prophecy, you could end up trapped with me for the rest of eternity.’

’That’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

The two pharaohs looked at each other and Seto simpered a little. ‘I have a feeling that you will not take no for an answer; you are just as stubborn as him.’

‘Oh please, NOBODY is as stubborn as Kaiba…’ Atem smirked before extending his hand for the other to take. ‘… except maybe you.’

Ignoring the jest, Seto asked, ’You would really trust our fate in his hands?’

’Not would... I do.’

Seto may have lost his faith in the gods, but his faith in Atem remained firm. If the other believed so strongly in his descendant then he would too. Another simper as the offered hand was taken ahold of and together the two of them slowly de-materialised out of the underground laboratory.

— 

Mokuba sat in the back of the surveillance van that was parked just beyond the boundaries of the Kaiba mansion. Pegasus sat to his left whilst Yugi sat to his right, all three faces illuminated by the huge monitor screen before of them as it broadcast live footage from the body-mounted cameras Roland and his teams were wearing.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Yugi asked the younger male. He knew that what had been decided must have been an extremely difficult decision to make and was there to provide support for his friend during the raid.

With a heavy heart and a close-to-vacant expression, Mokuba gave a slow nod. His brother had had plenty of opportunities to deal with everything that had kicked off more than eight months ago now, yet had only continued to get worse. “I never wanted for it to come to this, and wish there was some other way, but there isn’t…”

Seeing the boy in such a solemn state, Pegasus came to his aid with an explanation for Yugi’s benefit. “Kaiba-boy’s refusal to seek help for himself means that it’s now up to us to make sure he gets it.” 

“Does it have to be right here, right now, like this?-”

“Yes!” Mokuba cut across his friend’s words. He didn’t want this to be harder than it was going to be. “My brother needs help. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

“Of course,” Yugi calmly responded to the extremely curt interjection, “What I mean is, he’s not going to take being institutionalised lightly. Maybe a quieter occasion would be less stressful for everyone involved?”

“Ideally yes, but Kaiba-boy’s behaviour has become so reckless as of late, that to wait any longer could be fatal…”

Mokuba momentarily zoned out from the debate going on either side of him. His brother’s death from self-destruction was not something he was just going to sit by and let happen. They’d been through so much with his brother having made many difficult choices for them since they’d been orphaned. It was time to repay the favour.

“… If Kaiba grows to hate him because of this, I will not forgive you Pegasus!” 

“STOP, JUST STOP!” the teen roared in frustration and soon found himself under the gaze of three shocked and startled eyes. “Yugi, I understand your concern as my friend, but I made this choice, no-one has coerced me into it. And Pegasus, do not speak for me on my behalf, I have my own voice, and will divulge what and when I feel is appropriate. I’m not a little kid anymore! Will you both stop treating me like one!”

Silence filled the surveillance van and was only broken by a crackling sound as Roland’s microphone was switched on. “All the teams are in place and ready to proceed on your order.”

“Thank you, Roland.” Mokuba’s heart was now thumping the most forcefully he had ever felt. This is it. I’m doing this for your own good, Seto. Eyes clamped onto the camera feed belonging to his head honcho and he gave the command. “Move out.”

The six teams,- each consisting of three trained security personnel,- began to storm their way into the Kaiba mansion. Earlier drone surveillance had made them aware of a rather sizeable function currently underway, so whilst the two lead teams’ aim was locating the ex-CEO, the rest would secure the premises and deal with the guests.

“Look at the state of the place,” Pegasus commented as the body-cams streamed footage of trashed halls and rooms within the mansion. What had once been proud and immaculate living spaces were now almost unrecognisable with broken and strewn furnishings as far as the eye could see. “Someone call Marie Kondo, quick!”

“She’s an organiser, not a house cleaner.” Yugi pointed out the flaw in the other’s joke.

Speaking of a house cleaner, I wonder what happened to Jun? Mokuba wondered. Had his brother fired their maid or had she quit on her own accord? He knew there was no way she would have allowed such a state of disrepair if she had still been around.

As the teams ventured further into the mansion, they began to encounter intoxicated guests wandering around or passed out in the halls. A couple was even so heavily engrossed with making out that they failed to notice the raid happening at all.

“Fuguta, have your team check the office,” Roland instructed before taking his own team towards the hall where the bedrooms were located. “Notify me at once if you find Mr Kaiba.”

“Will do.”

The two lead teams headed towards their destinations with weapons drawn in case of any hostility they may be faced with once there.

“They’ve got guns?!” Yugi was horrified at having caught a glimpse of the firearms in the streamed footage. 

“Those are tasers,” Mokuba assured. “Like you said earlier, Seto isn’t going to take lightly to being institutionalised. It’s only fair they’re able to defend themselves from whatever assault he might throw their way.”

Roland’s team soon reached the closed door of the bedroom belonging to their ex-boss. Taking the lead, Roland singled for his two teammates to remain quiet whilst they listened for any signs of someone within the room. Confirmation came in the form of multiple voices moaning and groaning.

After the count of three, the door was opened and all three tasers held at arm's length pointing directly towards the mass of naked bodies interlocked in a heap on the caesar-sized four-poster bed.

“Oh my!” Pegasus was quick to lean to his left and place a hand over Mokuba’s eyes.

The teen let out an exasperated sigh. “I hang around with Joey, so it’s not like I haven’t seen stuff like this before.”

A lone and furious brown eye swiftly found a new target. “You and your friends allow him to watch porn?!”

“What? NO! Of course, we don’t! Well, that is to say, I don’t ‘allow’ Mokuba to ‘do’ anything,-“ Yugi could feel the perspiration forming on his brow as he talked. “- he’s his own person. If he chooses to view such material,-”

“He’s fifteen!”

“Fourteen.” Mokuba corrected as he casually pulled Pegasus’ hand from his face and returned to his observation of the raids.

“Many boys his age are curious about sex; there’s no shame in that.” Yugi stood his ground. Is this what it felt like to be an elder sibling and criticised for every choice made regarding the younger sibling? Suddenly he didn’t envy Kaiba and Joey quite so much. 

“Joey should not be showing him such inappropriate material!“

“What Mokuba has seen is tame compared to what’s out there!” Yugi refused to be intimidated by the suggestion that he’d somehow failed the younger male; his peer; his friend. His tone became confrontational and snide as he continued, “Unless you’d rather I ‘allow him’ to discover the extreme stuff on his own? Quit being such a prude,-”

“Shh, quiet down you two! I can’t hear what’s being said on the stream.”

Pegasus relented upon seeing the protectiveness he had stirred. “Touché, Yugi-boy,” he sighed. “Times have changed, and the internet advanced so rapidly since I was his age… He’s lucky to have someone like you watching over him in place of his brother.” 

Mokuba turned up the volume so could hear more clearly what was going on inside the mansion. 

“Mr Kaiba’s not in there,” one of Roland’s teammates declared as he emerged from the bedroom’s en-suite bathroom.

Roland lowered his taser, turned to pick up the luxurious blue robe from a nearby chair and tossed it towards a woman whose effort to hide her nudity with tiny hands made him pity her. His view fixed onto the group of five,- four women and a man,- on the bed. “I’ll ask you all one more time, WHERE is Seto Kaiba?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” the man scoffed as he continued to grope at the woman he’d been penetrating just moments before. She moaned loudly from his touch before seeking out his lips with hers.

“He was here…” one of the other women answered. She leant back on her elbows and parted her legs wide. “…but as you can see, he came and went.”

As the inebriated group burst into cackles of laughter, an infuriated Roland instructed his team; “Have them all dress and take them down to the duel hall!” 

“Yes, sir.”

Leaving the room at a fast pace, Roland activated his com-link to Fuguta. “Any sign of Mr Kaiba?”

“None.”

“Did you check the panic room?”

“Empty.”

“Dammit!” Roland growled through clenched teeth as he continued down the hall. He’d been so sure they’d find their target in one of the two most obvious rooms he could be in. “Okay, well, just sweep the mansion until we find him. He’s here someplace.”

“Roger.” 

The com-link closed and Roland held his taser ready once more as he was about to open another door. To his surprise, it was locked. He re-activated the com-link, this time to his boss. “Mokuba, your bedroom door appears to be locked. I have a feeling your brother may be in there. Permission to break the door down?”

“Permission granted.” Mokuba cooly responded despite being slightly confused. His bedroom had no lock, so why wasn’t the door opening? Has Seto barricaded himself in there?

Taking a step back, Roland raised his foot and gave several forceful kicks to the locked door before it crashed open. He proceeded inside.

“Roland stop!” Mokuba instructed at what he saw from the man’s body-cam upon entering.

Roland complied without question.

“Do a 360, turn around, let me see the whole room.”

Again he complied. “Is there a reason why you have me spinning like a top?”

“Seto’s not there.” Mokuba verbalised his thoughts. His eyes were wide with awe at seeing his room untouched since the day he’d moved out. “He put a lock on the door to keep people out and stop them from trashing it like the rest of the mansion. He’s preserving my room; my space; my memory,-“

“That’s all very well, but it doesn’t help with the situation of where he is now.” Roland huffed. 

Pegasus sensed the other’s growing irritation and took it upon himself to press for clues that might help. “You know your brother best, Moku-boy. Do you have any ideas where he might be found?”

“Well, if Seto is hiding then he would have used the panic room,” Mokuba stated. “But since we already know it’s empty, he could be just about anywhere. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.“

“Does he have a favourite room, one where he might go to relax?” 

“If Seto knew how to relax, he wouldn’t be in this mess.” Mokuba shot back at Pegasus before taking a moment to ponder over what had been asked. “Maybe the garden, in the observatory?…Nah… Perhaps the games room, or music room, or,- Wait, I DO know! The basement! Either in his lab or the garage.”

“You have an underground garage?” Yugi asked in a slightly awestruck manner.

“Uhh, yeah. Where else is Seto supposed to keep his car collection?”

“I’m heading down to the basement right now.” Roland declared after having heard everything via his com-link. He was already speedily leaving his teenage boss’ bedroom and made a beeline for the elevator at the end of the hall.

“Oh, Roland, just a word of warning; if you’re going down there, we may lose contact.” Mokuba was quick to inform. “There’s been instances in the past when I haven’t been able to get through to Seto’s phone when he’s down there.”

“It’ll be a minor inconvenience if it the communications do drop out, but the camera will keep recording so you’ll be able to witness everything that takes place,” Roland assured as he entered the elevator and it began to make its descent. “This will be over soon, Mokuba. I’m sorry it’s taking so long...”

“Don’t apologise. I’m the one who kept dragging my heels in this, remember?” Mokuba laughed weakly.

During the last eight months, both Roland and Pegasus had been advising him through each choice he had made that had eventually led them to today. At times he’d been doubtful,- sometimes reluctant,- to do as advised, but they never went against the decisions he made and were transparent with him at all times. 

“I think we’ve lost contact with him,” Pegasus stated when no reply came from Roland whose body cam now showed he was exiting the elevator at basement level. 

They all watched as Roland made his way past the laundry room and was soon looking through the glass wall where the fleet of a dozen luxury cars were displayed. Most were various shades of blue/grey/silver/white, with only a yellow Lamborghini and a red Ferrari standing out amongst them. 

“Nice cars,” Yugi commented. “No sign of your brother though.”

“Then he must be in the lab… Or maybe I was wrong and he’s still up in the mansion..?”

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Pegasus announced as Roland keyed in a passcode,- 23995346,- on the laboratory door’s security panel and was granted entry. 

Practically sitting on the edge of his seat, Mokuba watched as Roland slowly inched further into the room. The gun-like taser was drawn so close to the man’s body that its tip blocked part of the camera’s visual field each time he moved. 

“There he is!” Mokuba gasped as the back of his brother’s head and chair came into view. “I wonder what he’s working on?”

Pegasus squinted as he tried to make out the messy diagram and scribbles displayed on the monitors. “I could be wrong, but I ‘think’ that says ’Space Elevator’..? What could possibly be going through his mind to come up with something like that?”

“He wanted to be an astronaut when he younger, so maybe he’s planing on,-…” Mokuba’s voice caught in his throat as his brother suddenly stood and turned to face Roland. He could feel his heart ache from seeing the sorry-looking sight that his eyes viewed; his brother wearing nothing more than a pair of underpants and an open shirt that exposed a heavily scarred and under-nourished torso, along with a face so gaunt that it almost looked lifeless. What happened to you, Seto? Why did you do this to yourself?

As the taser was pointed his way, the tablet pen in Kaiba’s hand was angrily thrown to a side and his face contorted in rage as he shouted at the intruder…

“Why can’t I hear what’s being said?” Mokuba asked as he frantically pushed at the controls to increase the volume to the maximum level.

“I would guess it has something to do with Isono’s microphone being connected to his communications link,” Pegasus suggested. “This must have been what was meant when last he spoke; we’d lose audio, but at still have visuals.”

“Kaiba looks furious,” Yugi noted out loud. “Do you think he’s been told what’s planned for him?”

“Quite possibly,” Pegasus admitted. “Though I presumed the subject would have been raised a little bit more subtly than being announced outright,-“

“HOLY SHIT!” Mokuba exclaimed at seeing the taser fired. 

The barbs had shot out of the barrel at high speed, missed his brother by mere millimetres as he twisted to the side, and pierced one of the monitor screens instead. Concern was felt for both Roland and his brother as electric sparks to fly in all directions, but that same concern soon became conflicted as the two men engaged in hand-to-hand combat. 

“I CAN’T watch this!” the teen cried and scrambled over Yugi so he could exit the surveillance van.

Once outside in the open air, Mokuba tried to catch his breath. He felt shaken from what he had seen; two people he held dear,- who held each other dear,- fighting like enemies, partially because of decisions he had made. This shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t have allowed for things to get so bad! Why did I even think it would be a good idea to fight fire with fire in the first place?

His thoughts turned back to when he’d first chosen to make a stand against his brother. It had been in the direct aftermath of the break-up with Kisara, were each word to leave the other’s mouth was nothing more than an angry repellent to keep others away. He’d held strong at first but, crumbled when the words turned purposely cruel and offensive,- as opposed to the defensive nature which they had started,- and in turn, delivered back his own cutting words. 

At the time it had felt like the only way to get through to his brother, though now he realised it had had little effect at all. Neither had taking control of Kaiba Corp to allow his brother the time and freedom to work things out on his own. In fact that had only made matters so much worse. I made a mess of everything… But I’m GOING to put this right! First, I need to stop all this.

His eyes narrowed on the mansion beyond the gated boundary wall. Aware that he wouldn’t be able to use the com-link to contact Roland whilst still down in the basement, Mokuba knew his only other option was to inform him directly. He passed through the large iron gates and began to sprint up the long driveway, unaware of Yugi stepping out of the surveillance van now behind him.

“Mokuba, wait!”

Feet repeatedly pounded the ground as the determined teen raced towards the mansion. His brother wasn’t entirely lost. He could still reason with, and save him, without the need for institutionalising. He’d developed a thicker skin to cruel remarks since then last time they’d spoken and would not give up so easily again. His brother’s words had just been that; words. He wasn’t hated like he’d feared. The fact his bedroom remained protected and in pristine condition, instead of having been reclaimed or trashed, was proof enough. Seto would have wasted no time in destroying any trace of me ever being there if he truly didn’t want to reconnect. 

Almost there, Mokuba’s pace slowed and he came to a stop where the driveway spread out across the entire length of the mansion’s front. Parked before him were several cars in which Roland and his team had arrived, a riot van to hold any of his brother’s ‘guests’ if they got out of hand, and an unmarked psychiatric ambulance waiting to take his brother away. He felt a sense of dread beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. What if I’m too late to fix this? Seto will disown me for real this time when he finds out what was planned! Will he ever forgive me? I wouldn’t if I was him…

“Mokuba!”

He turned at hearing his name called and saw Yugi running towards him. This was just what he needed; a friend to help lift the confusion and provide solace. “I CAN’T do it! I can’t do this to him! He’s my brother, I can’t b-betray him like this. I don’t w-want him to h-hate me.” 

“It’s not betrayal,” Yugi panted as he came to a stop beside his friend failing to hold back tears. “Your brother needs help, much more than you or I,- or Pegasus or Roland,- could ever give him…”

What?! Mokuba was now even more confused as he struggled to make sense of his friend’s altered stance on the matter. He questioned my initial decision earlier, so why isn’t he giving support or approval for my change of plan? 

“… I understand it’s hard to carry through with such a difficult and heart-wrenching decision, but I believe you made the right choice by ensuring he is given all the professional help that he needs. Your brother will get through this,-“

“Y-y-you don’t know that. Y-you can’t promise that!” Mokuba stammered as he shook his head and sent tears flying in all directions. Why wasn’t his friend standing by him? Inside he felt a storm of emotions raging like a cyclone and let it free without warning, “WHO are YOU to tell ME what to do?!!”

Yugi had already steeled himself for such a reaction,- his young friend was still a Kaiba after all,- and remained calm as the troubled teen leered down at him. “I feel your frustration, Mokuba. I really do,-”

“HOW could you?!”

Again he remained calm under the scrutiny of those narrowed grey eyes. “Much like the ceremonial duel I had with Atem, you have to do what is best for your brother, no matter how arduous on your conscience it may feel. Believe in yourself, in your judgement, and help him proceed back into the light where he rightfully belongs.”

He’s been stood by me the whole time! The comparison hit home with Mokuba and he felt the storm inside him subside. He hadn’t thought of the situation quite like that. and now had a better understanding of his friend’s outlook on it all. “Yugi, I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Fear and anger are strong emotions,” Yugi simpered with compassion and gave what he felt was a much-needed hug. “You’re not alone Mokuba. And neither is your brother. When he realises that, I’m certain he’ll make a full recovery.”

“You really think so?” Mokuba asked as he leant down a little further into the hug.

“I do. It’ll take time though, it’s not going to happen overnight.”

“But you’ll be there for me, if… I mean, ‘when’ I need you?”

“Always.”

Slowly, the surveillance van entered through the gates, drove along the driveway and stopped right beside the two friends breaking apart from their embrace. The side door slid open and Pegasus stepped out. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just… lost my nerve for a moment,” Mokuba kept his explanation brief. “I’m fine now though.”

Judging from the response he was given, Pegasus knew Yugi had done a good job of consoling the teen. “You’ll be glad to know that it’s almost over. Isono succeeded with his task of apprehending your brother, and is escorting him up from the laboratory as we speak.”

Mokuba simply nodded to confirm that he’d heard what had been said.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Pegasus asked, the silence now making him somewhat slightly unconvinced of what he’d been told just a moment ago. “It’s not too late to halt things if that’s what you truly want.”

“It’s not about what I want, it’s about what Seto needs,” Mokuba stated flatly. His eyes glazed as he watched the crew of the psychiatric ambulance prepare for their patient. Whilst the nurse measured sedatives in a syringe, the assistant readied the restraints of the trolley bed.

Yugi turned to Pegasus, “How long will Kaiba be institutionalised for?” he quietly inquired.

“I don’t know,” Pegasus admitted honestly. “It would all depend upon a string of assessments to determine his mental state, and what type of/how much care is required. Then there’s the factor of whether or not he’ll co-operate throughout the whole thing. I imagine it would be at least several months before his release is even considered.”

“And what about his absence during that time?” Yugi continued. “People are going to start speculating when he hasn’t been seen for a while.”

“Don’t fret, Yugi-boy. A cover story will-“ 

“LET GO OF ME, YOU PERFIDIOUS BASTARD!!” The sound of the outraged scream was heard well and clear before the mansion’s front door had even been opened. It drew the trio’s attention and they watched Kaiba literally being dragged kicking and screaming from inside his own home.

“Seto.” Mokuba whimpered as his brother struggled in a rear arm lock hold.

“KUSO YARO!!” Kaiba tried to throw his captor over himself as he slammed backwards into him, but just couldn’t build up enough leverage needed to succeed. “Grrr, I make you pay for this, Isono!” 

Roland knew better than to retaliate in response to the other’s angry words and simply continued to haul him towards the unmarked ambulance. Despite his captive’s weaker visual appearance, there was still plenty of physical strength making it a strenuous task to overpower him. With any luck, the other would wear himself out soon with all the resistance going on.

“I WILL NOT be placed in some mental asylum!” Kaiba made another forceful attempt to break free from his hold which resulted in him almost dislocating his shoulder in the process. It was no good though, Roland’s incarcerating clasp was just too strong.

“You won’t be confined to an asylum, you’ll be staying with me, on my island,” Pegasus informed as if it would somehow make the situation better.

Kaiba looked in the direction of where the familiar voice had come from and sneered, “Heh, I knew the CUCKOO and the YANK would be behind all of this!” his voice was coarse from screaming but wasn’t any less malicious as he glared at the trio of traitors staring back at him. “I expected better from you though, Muto. Then again, you had no qualms sending OUR friend to his demise. FUCK YOU and your FAKE friendship!-”

“Hurry up and sedate him already!” Roland yelled at the nurse as he struggled to keep ahold of the infuriated man trying to break free and start a fight.

“Hold him still.” The nurse instructed as he tried to get close enough to carry out the task.

More struggling occurred as Kaiba spotted the syringe in the other’s hand. His eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth, “You’re NOT jabbing that in me!”

“Actually, ‘yes’ he is!” Roland let a frustrated retort slip. He was exhausted and not sure of just how much longer he could keep ahold. “I’m sorry, Seto,” he apologised earnestly before summoning what strength he had left and forced his friend face-first against the side of the ambulance.

“FUCKING CUNT!” Kaiba roared angrily with a freshly split lip. Roland’s bodyweight held him in place whilst the nurse sank the needle into his arm. “I’ll kill you! I’LL KILL EVERY LAST FUCKING ONE OF YOU!!!“

Mokuba fidgeted uncomfortably where he stood, shifting from one foot to the other. The whole thing was extremely distressing and he wanted it to stop, Now. No, I gotta stay strong. This is the endgame, it’ll be over with soon enough.

With the sedatives now administered, the nurse was quick to draw back from his patient. “They should start to take effect in a few seconds.”

“Good,” Roland panted and let go of the arms that were already bruising from the firm hold he’d had on them. He backed away to allow the other plenty of room to thrash and flail. 

Instead, Kaiba staggered a few steps from the high-sided vehicle, sank down to his knees on the gravel and dirt, and eventually ended up on all fours. He stared at the ground, eyes wide, face dripping with sweat whilst breathing heavily as he watched a tiny puddle of blood form on the driveway. WHY did this happen? WHY didn’t they just stay away? WHY did they feel the need to form a pack and hunt me down like this? Why?…

‘Hey, there mister…’

Kaiba slowly raised his head to see an apparition of his younger self crouching down in front of him. The small boy studied him curiously as he leant on the soccer ball clutched close in his lap.

‘Are you okay?’

“No… I’m not okay,” he answered weakly, aware that he could no longer keep on lying to himself. How had it come to this? Why had he let things get so out of hand and been so reluctant to fix them? He was ashamed of himself and all he had become. “Get out of here, Go!”

Obediently following the instruction, his younger self stood up straight, failing to keep ahold of the ball and it slipped free from his hands. It was now that Kaiba could see it wasn’t a soccer ball at all, but the spherical puzzle of his heart. How he knew that it was his heart, he had no idea. Perhaps because many of the pieces were dented, cracked and chipped, just like him?

As though watching in slow-motion,- and helpless to intervene,- the puzzle shattered as it hit the driveway. “Nooooooo!” Kaiba scrambled to collect as many pieces as possible before they sank beneath the ground.

“What’s going on?” Yugi asked Pegasus nervously as they saw Kaiba talking to thin air before desperately clawing at the dirt with his hands.

“He seems to be hallucinating. Most likely a side effect of the sedatives mixing with whatever substances already in his system.”

Mokuba couldn’t bear to see his brother in such a state any longer, “Seto!” he cried as he stepped closer, and froze as the other’s wide-eyed gaze turned to fix upon him. 

“Stay back.” Roland placed an outstretched arm in his young boss’ path for precautionary measures. If required, he wouldn’t hesitate to fully place himself between them. He needn’t have worried though as Kaiba remained where he knelt instead of carrying out the threat from just a few moments ago.

“M-m-my heart… it’s… b-b-b-b-bro-k-k-ken…!”

“We know, Seto.” Mokuba’s frown quivered as he fought back the urge to cry at seeing his brother dissolve into tears before him. “We’ve been trying to help you this whole time, but you wouldn’t let us-”

“I’ve GOT to fix it!” The scratching at the driveway became more frenzied though no progress was made with shifting the dirt.

“You won’t find anything down there, Mr Kaiba.” the nurse assured as he and his assistant each lifted their patient by placing their arms under his. “Come with us, we’ll help you to get well again.”

“No! No, no, no!” The objection was made with arms flailing wildly, but Kaiba’s strength was now not that much stronger than that of a newborn baby. “I need all the pieces!… Let go of me! LET GO OF ME!!”

All four onlookers found it excruciatingly uncomfortable to watch as Kaiba was hauled into the psychiatric ambulance against his will. Tears, distraught screams and feeble attempts of physical protest continued but failed to stop him from being placed on the trolley were he was then securely restrained to prevent him from thrashing around and causing any further injury. 

“RELEASE ME THIS INSTANT!!” 

Ignoring their patient’s demand, the nurse and his assistant exited the back of the vehicle and closed the doors.

“RELEASE ME!! RELEASE ME! Release me!... Release… me…” Kaiba’s screams eventually became nothing more than a weak mumble as the sedatives took a great effect of subduing him. He lay there. alone and paralysed with nothing more than the faint sound of Gozaburo’s laughter inside his semi-conscious head. 

A driving motion was felt as the ambulance left his home. In all honesty, he would have preferred death over being institutionalised. He felt he could not atone for the things he’d said and done, and therefore had nothing left to live for anyway. At least in death, he would finally be at peace, free from inner torment and suffering.

The chortling grew louder.

‘You made your bed, now rot in it.’

[empressofmankind]

Ramira ‘Remi’ Don

  Link to original post “Character Development Questions: Hard Mode”               

I am bored af so I am filling this out for Remi, in part because she can do with some char devp.

Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with? None that I’ve made up yet in her age group, however she’s closest to her adopted child Dindom ( @nightshade-victorian)

What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like? She’s never known her (Imperial) mother. Her mother is still alive though so that may yet change

What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like? Very good, she grew up with her (Bosmer) father. He is also still alive, she and Dindom visit perennially

Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know? The notion that you can (and should) adapt social and cultural ‘rules’ to your circumstances and needs. She’s a Pact Bosmer and ever since she decided “staple foods don’t count”, it’s become a lot easier to be an adventurer in Tamriel and get enough to eat without having to turn around every penny to afford a 100% meat diet

On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets? A whole lot of things that don’t belong to her. She’s a compulsive pickpocket

Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams? She sleeps like a rock and dreams like one too

Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares? Few things faze the little dumbass (this is a problem), I don’t think she has nightmares much if at all

Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target? Do we have guns? I don’t think we have guns. I can’t believe I am actually not even sure. Take my Elite TES Player ID right now. She’d probably dual wield them like the twink she is.

Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up? Nope, still a sewer rat. OK, fine, between the various perennial Guild pay-checks and Tharn finding excuses to give her inordinate amounts of money she’s doing better on average but for most everyone she is and always will be a petty thief

Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing? Definitely a less is more kind of gal. She’d run around naked all day every day if she could if people let her

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been? Not a single one, its sort of the problem with her. You’d THINK being chased by a dragon would be it, but it wasn’t

In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been? Pretty much every situation (or overly excited) and it causes a whole lot of other NPCs and OCs a terrifying amount of angst. At least a bunch of them are already grey lol

Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way? No, she’s a thief by trade and part-times for the Dark Brotherhood, blood doesn’t bother her

Does your character remember names or faces easier? Definitely faces

Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not? No, not at all, she’s and adventurer and travels very light

Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success? Definitely happiness, I don’t think she even understands the notions of ambition or success and why people desire it

What was your character’s favorite toy as a child? A little deer made of strings and little wood blocks by her father, she still has it

Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others? Wisdom, though she’s intrigued by ambitious people in that same way you might regard a strange new animal the first time you see them in the zoo because the idea of ambition is utterly alien to her (and probably many Bosmer)

What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before? She’s a very poor verbal communicator and mostly just... does things and assumes between the emoting and being asked direct questions, people know what’s up. In a shocking turn of event, they don’t

In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism? She’s very self-concious about things that are typically Imperial or typically Bosmer and how well or not she performs them, courtesy of being half/half. Archery is always a sore spot even though she’s a decent archer. Its invariably in a self-critical way

If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others? She mostly just shrugs and moves on which can be a problem if there were other people involved that need more time to cope or if she caused the entire thing to begin with

What does your character like in other people? Wit, creativity, lots of private space invading & sex

What does your character dislike in other people? Bigotry

How quick is your character to trust someone else? Too quick

How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person? Not quick enough

How does your character behave around children? Like she’s literally 5 years old too, they do tend to love Auntie Remi though

How does your character normally deal with confrontation? Head-on and with daggers, verbal or otherwise, if need be

How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation? Depends on its nature but generally she won’t resort to physical violence unless or until she feels threatened/cornered

What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true? Becoming a famous legion archer like Aura Eagle-Eyed, an Imperial legion archer she looked up to. That didn’t happen, suffices to say

What does your character find repulsive or disgusting? Salads in general and those little side-dish salads with other dishes in particular

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable. Snuggled up with maximised skin-contact with someone she cares about

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable. Having to sit still on furniture made out of tree corpses

In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve? willing to improve, presuming she listened at all, it doesn’t always look it

Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method? She’ll keep at it a little while and then change

How does your character behave around people they like? She will try to be funny and be very close to them, to the point of personal space invading

How does your character behave around people they dislike? She’ll be reluctant to talk or come near them, nevermind touch them

Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status? Neither, the little trash racoon

Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat? Much more likely to remove a problem/threat

Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)? Do Khajiit count? xD @lontau

How does your character treat people in service jobs? With the respect they deserve for doing these hard boring unadventerous jobs so that others can roam free

Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first? She definitely assumes she deserves all she wants, and she has few qualms about presuming to take it too. Granted, these are things like hugs and snacks for the most part

Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them? Nerla’do, a Khajiit veteran adventurer and older sister to Ro’ranno, and Astara, Matron of the Gold Coast Sanctuary, both fill different aspects of mother-like roles

Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them? Dindom, the Bosmer child she and Ro’ranno adopted

How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it? It is very easy for them to say it but they will never say it when they don’t mean it

What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them? She believes she will go to the Hunting Grounds but recently she’s decided she’d rather go travel the Sands Behind The Stars with Ro’ranno

[madaraism]

Tourists – Liam x MC (NSFW)

A/N: Happiest of birthdays to my fellow Aussie, @topsyturvy-dream. Knowing you has been such an amazing journey, one of which I can be the complete salty, questionable bogan that I secretly am. I love talking about the joys that is Liam and Riley with you, and all the possible places that they would have chill dates with in Sydney. Please go check out her blog, she is an amazing person to talk to, not to mention her artworks for the Choices fandom is fantastic (she also gives the most extensive fanfic reviews ever, which ultimately gives me LIFE). Love you Nikki! You still owe me a woolies mudcake, even though it’s your birthday.

Also additionally, look at me, trying to break away from the angst-writer stereotype.

Summary: The royal couple has a little rendezvous in the land down under.

Rating: Mature – NSFW and language.

Inspiration: Adore by Ariana Grande

Perma tag: @topsyturvy-dream @hellospunkiebrewster @umccall71 @blackcatkita

Tagging people who might be interested: @never-ending-choices @laniquelove @hhiggs @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @boneandfur @alicars @captainkingliam @kawairinrin @hopefulmoonobject

Such a peaceful place, Australia.

Full of different cultures and languages, festivities and curious eats, the bustle of other tourists, the relaxed and joyous atmosphere of other Sydneysiders.

The lead up to their trip down under was purely for relaxation; she had talked about it for years about visiting, desperate to explore places other than America and Europe, a point that she had shared with Liam when she brought him to that secret cove back in New York the night they met.

It had been a running gag for the past years.

She had lived with her extended family back in The States, sure, but deep down she missed the time she had spent growing up in the land down under.

It had started off with her vocabulary, the certain way that she would say things, and especially the accent that would slip out when she got angry or frustrated.

The whole crew would then laugh about it and joke about her accent with terrible imitations. They had spent so many years talking about it, letting her reminisce about her time spent there. She found it funny, seeing all their reactions and laughing at how misconstrued their idea of Australia was; Hana being squeamish with the sizes of certain insects, Maxwell foolishly, yet not surprisingly, believing in the existence of drop bears, Olivia boasting about the Cordonian Ruby being better than the Australian Pink Lady. At least Drake seemed to be interested in the extremely relaxed and much-loved drinking environment.

She remembers it all very clearly, correcting fiction with facts, teaching them certain slang, correcting inaccurate tourism ads with a rather frustrated, “We don’t even say shrimp on the barbie! What even is a shrimp? It’s a damn prawn!”

And Liam, being Liam, loved the idea of exploring a new country, especially one that meant so much to her.

So he spends months to plan the perfect trip for her birthday, finding the excitement bubbling within him when he realises that it falls within a certain period where the city of Sydney is dressed in different colours, bright lights and impressive art instalments for the three-week-long art festival called Vivid.

Liam makes a trip out of it, hoping to maximise their stay there to take in all the sights by opting to stay at the lavish Park Hyatt with uninterrupted views of the Opera House instead of the delegated Cordonian houses.

She discovers his surprise when she steps onto the plane; expecting another tedious journey to some state dinner in some European country, only to be greeted with the pop of multiple party poppers from the crew and the king himself; gold and green streamers covering her hair and the carpet underneath her feet.

“Surprise, my love. Have you guessed where we’re going yet?”, His eyes sparkle and he flashes his signature loving yet cheeky grin.

The gold and the green… the national colours…

“Noooooo…”, She gasps as it sinks in, taking around the comfortable attire of everyone.

Liam can only continue grinning as she wraps her arms around him, “We’re going down under.”

-

The flight was excruciatingly long. Not because of the travel, no, but the joke of it all being brought to reality was about to send her into madness.

It was a series of the usual discussion topics, only much more intense.

“For the love of god, Maxwell, if you play Down Under by Men At Work one more time,”

“No, Olivia, I don’t know why they don’t accentuate the ‘r’s in every word, maybe you can ask them when we get there.”

“Fairy bread is an Aussie staple, Hana. All you need is bread, butter and rainbow sprinkles. No, it’s not a dessert. It’s breakfast. It’s party food. Pavlova is a dessert.”

“No, Drake, Tasmania is not actually connected to Australia. I’m sure we can get you a bottle of Sullivan’s Cove in Sydney. …No, I didn’t know they won the World’s Whiskies Awards in 2014, I actually like having a functioning liver.”

Liam can only laugh, his fingers working along her back to untangle the stress induced knots in her muscles.

-

Perhaps it was the excitement of being in a different country; the truth in her words when they realised just how genuinely laidback the people were.

With Vivid on, the buzz and excitement was immeasurable. The different art instalments throughout various suburbs and in the central business district, the way different moving artworks illuminated the white sails of the Opera House, seeing people interacting with the moving sculptures and instalments… She missed it all, but sharing it with Liam and the others meant so much more to her.

She cringes but laughs at the way Maxwell tries to blend in into the Australian crowd with supposedly ‘Aussie streetwear’ – namely a singlet with his hippo tattoo proudly showing, board shorts and flipflops – or thongs, as he now calls it to fit in.

She laughs at the way Hana would drag the reluctant Drake and Olivia over to explore various art statues that would make musical notes when you hit them a certain way.

But most importantly, she loved how Liam’s eyes would sparkle, admiring how such beautiful displays were admired by everyone, tourists or not, and that they were all so interactive and interesting, taking in the ideas and hoping to start something similar in Cordonia in celebration of the arts when they return home.

At times, however, she would notice how distracted, almost frustrated he was.

Perhaps it was the crowds of people, she wonders, the way they all pushed in curious groups, making Liam’s arm cling around her waist, making sure they wouldn’t get lost.

Or maybe it was their incessant chattering, she wonders, the complaints from Olivia and the dry retorts from Drake and the endless questions from Maxwell and Hana, how the group was so insistent on travelling everywhere together as a pack with her as their tour guide.

But she didn’t care, she realised, because all those moments accumulated to Liam finding the opportunity to pull her away from her role of their delegated tour guide, when the rest of them finally got distracted with the colourful festivities amidst the other crowds.

From an aerial perspective, the Opera House stands tall and proud by itself at the end of the Circular Quay walk. People only pay attention to the front of the landmark, taking in the long flight of stairs that led up to the entrance and the white sails. The Vivid Light walk takes people around the front of the Opera House and to the right, leading them into the Royal Botanical gardens that overlooks the Harbour Bridge and the city skyline.

No one ever ventured around to the back of the Opera House. There was no need to.

And even if they did, there were just so many nooks around the landmark, the shadows and cold winter breeze by the sea acting as their curtain.

The wall pressed against her back is cold and hard, but his arms around her and the peppered kisses along her jaw makes her feel incredibly heated.

She knows that look too well; dark eyes hazed over with lust, lips swollen from shared kisses.

His voice was deeper than usual, raspy and desperate, groans leaving his lips at the feeling of her body against his, “I couldn’t wait until we got back to the hotel…”

She grins at his words, gasping when his fingers pull at the collar of her sweater, his kisses moving to behind her ear before trailing down across her collarbone and her décolletage.

His hands that followed the curves of her body, tugging and pulling at her clothes had made their way underneath and between her legs, fingers coy and toying.

“Why? I thought you… ah… enjoyed… mm… their company…”, Her words are slurred, her own hands pulling at his hair as his fingers work in tantalizing circles at her heat.

“I do…”, He mutters as his fingers continue to please her, delving further into her wetness before curling upwards familiarly, teasing. “But they wouldn’t stop asking you questions about this or that… They haven’t left you alone with me for more than five seconds…”

His finger is still curled within her, his thumb mirroring the pulses of pressure against her clit with emphasis at each word, “…I want you. All. To. Myself.”

Her hips buckle into his fingers, head tilted back into the wall with her eyes closed, bottom lip between her teeth. “Ah, fuck, Liam…”

Liam presses his forehead against hers, eyes half lidded, so dark and so full of want as his other hand moves to hoist her leg up, wrapping it around his waist. He groans out her name as he grinds into her core. “Don’t stop looking at me, my queen, I want to see you come undone…”

And his fingers quicken their pace; in, curl, rub, out, in, out, repeat. His thumb, putting more pressure but not too much that it becomes painful on her clit, switches from slow circles to faster ones.

Her brows are furrowed, mouth open in quiet ecstasy, legs trembling and hips rolling, but her eyes never leave his. His lips meet hers for a quick second before his teeth cling onto her bottom lip, tugging, his other hand moving from her hoisted leg to her thigh, up and up to squeeze her ass.

When she comes, she is writhing. Her ears are hot and her eyes are stinging as she refuses to blink, to tear her gaze away from his. She is quiet, his name rolling off her tongue in a frenzied, heated whisper.

Liam smiles at her, stepping back slightly after kissing her forehead which was now sticky from sweat. His actions are quick, unbuckling his pants and letting them pool at his feet. His hand, still wet from her high, strokes along his own hard length.

At times, their lives can be so happy and simple, full of laughter and pleasant, innocent kisses. The sense of normalcy is so heavily craved when their life is filled with duties of ruling a country and managing a duchy.

Her bottom lip is caught on her teeth, her mouth dry as she looks at the sight before her; Liam, standing tall with his broad shoulders and straight posture. The shadows were supposed to be their curtain, yet it complimented the dark, lusting look on his face so well.

In a sea of commoners, he is a king.

A master of body language.

So in the rare circumstance that the duties of country and court are not overtaking their lives, his art of kingship is more prevalent.

“Strip.”

She shudders, her fingers quickly and diligently working at pulling her pants off before moving back up, making quick work of pulling her sweater off and unbuttoning the shirt underneath.

Such a simple word, but spoken with such power.

He is the king, and he doesn’t let her forget that.

“Good girl…”, He steps back in, kissing her as he caresses her cheek with his free hand. Her other hand meets his along the length of his hardness, pumping him hard and slow; down and up with a slight twist right at his head and back down.

Liam groans into her touch, his hips moving slightly along with the work of her hands. “My Queen…”, His voice is emphasized in a hiss as her thumb grazes along his tip.

His hands are now on her hips, hoisting her up and pressing her up against the wall. It forces her arms to hold onto his shoulders instead of giving her the pleasure of pleasuring him back.

She finds herself void of complaints however as she feels his head slide tantalizingly slow against her folds. She clings onto him, letting her lips kiss his as she tries to push him into her, praying gravity would be on her side against the strength of his arms wrapped around her frame.

She growls when he doesn’t give in, “Liam, for the love of Cordonia, fuck me.”

He tuts at her, letting his weight and an arm hold her in place above the ground while his other hand continues teasing her. He doesn’t stop, pushing just the head of his length in before taking it out again.

She is whimpering, she is wanton. Her hips try to buck in her favour when he teases but it is no parallel to the strength in his arms.

“Is this how you speak to your king? Even after neglecting him?”, His eyes are so unbelievably dark when he is teasing; he lets himself slide in just a little bit more this time, before sliding back out. Liam looks at her expectantly.

She lets out a small cry, “I’m ah… sorry, my king, for getting distracted ah!... by… the others… fuck.”

“Good… Now let me show you just how much I’ve missed you, my Queen.” His forehead is on hers as he finally slides himself fully into her, the mewls that leave her lips music in his ears. He closes his eyes for a brief second, relishing at the feeling of her warmth around his length. “Fuck, my love, you are so wet.” His eyes open again, making sure that she keeps her eyes on him as he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow, hard and deep. His eyes are intense and his voice deep, muttering, “Fuck, my Queen, did you miss me? Did you miss me being inside of you? Filling you up?”

Liam’s free hand caresses and squeezes at her breasts, groaning at the mewls that she tries so hard to silence.

He is powerful, and each thrust force her up against the wall slightly, body falling and moving in time to his movements; his grips are now on her waist, holding her tightly so she doesn’t fall.

“Keep moaning my name, my love.”

“Liam… Liam… fuck, my King…”

“That’s it… You’re so wet for me, my Queen… Did I make you this wet?”

She is gasping and clawing at his back, clinging on to his body, taking in every powerful thrust. She wants to roll her head back in pleasure but she doesn’t dare, admiring the look of concentration in his eyes, the focus he has on his face. Both their foreheads touching, hair clinging onto their faces, wet and sweaty.

He moves just slightly, mouth latching onto her neck, sucking and biting as his other hand grasps onto her ass allowing him to angle his thrusts deeper. She lets a loud gasp slip and he smirks against her neck, moving back up to look at her.

“Fuck! Liam…!”

“I love pleasing you, my Queen… I fucking love hearing you call my name…”

Liam picks up his pace, head delving back down to leave kisses on her décolletage, her breasts and she is so thankful of the wall behind her, supporting their weight as he fucks her. The tightness in her stomach grows with his increased speed, the hotness appearing again in her head with each thrust, pushing her closer and closer to the edge; her ears must be red as she calls for him to look at her.

His name is a mantra on her lips, a hand of hers now on her clit, rubbing desperately as his speed increases, pushing her to her high.

Her rhythm matched his rough thrusts, the look of her pleasuring herself almost setting him off. She is writhing in his arms when he growls out her name, the thrust that accompanied it pushing her over the edge; her back arches into him and he takes the liberty to leave marks on her chest, his other hand digging into her ass.

Liam does not stop, thrusts still hitting her as he lets her ride out her high. Her chest is heaving and her eyes are heavy when she comes back down, her hand moving away from her core to rest on his shoulder again.

He lets her legs touch the floor but keeping a strong hold on her as she struggles slightly to maintain her balance. His voice is still raspy as he mutters, quickly turning her around so she is facing away from him, the both of them away from the wall so they wouldn’t get hurt.

“I’m not quite done with you yet, my Queen.”

His hand grasps her hair into his fist and his other pushes her back so her posture is bent; his knees spread her legs apart and he angles himself against her before thrusting back in.

“Shit, Liam…!”

He is almost merciless as he picks up the speed and the intensity of his thrusts again. His grasp on her hair is dulled by his other hand on her shoulder, holding her in place as he takes her from behind.

Liam peppers kisses along her upper back and shoulders, whispering ‘I love you’s into her ear as his other hand now moves to the front of her body, nipples between his fingers, flesh in his hands as he squeezes and caresses.

If he wasn’t supporting the weight of it all, she was convinced she would be collapsed on the floor at that very moment. She leans up into him, feeling the knot in her stomach make its return for the third time that night.

“Liam… Liam… fuck, baby, keep going… fuck, Liam…”

His hand now takes place on her clit, rubbing in harsh circles, edging her on. He is so incredibly hard and rough, biting down on his own bottom lip as his fingers brushes against his own length, feeling himself thrusting into her, the wetness of her folds, listening to her pants of his name disappearing into the cold, winter night.

He knows she is close and he lets go of her hair, making her tilt her face towards him as he kisses her. Both of their eyes boldly open yet so clouded with love and lust.

“I’m so close baby, please don’t stop…”

He curses in his mind, wishing there was a mirror in front of them so he could show her just how he makes her come undone once more.

“Come for me, my Queen…”

He urges her on and he can feel her walls tighten; his thrusts are desperate but not lacking, hitting the very spot in her over and over as his fingers work magic on her clit.

When she comes again, her walls are clenched around his length and he comes with her, spilling into her as he rides out his high.

His thrusts are slow and sluggish before it comes to a stop, their bodies still as one as they just stand there, catching their breath. Their hair is a sweaty mess and he presses lazy kisses on her shoulder and along her neck, not caring the slightest as he smiles into her skin.

She loves these after moments. Her laughter starts off as nothing but a soft giggle but he soon joins her, both of them in the post-sex high.

“I love you, my queen.”

“I love you too, my king.”

Liam can’t help but grin.

He pulls out of her and thus begins their clean up routine; pocket tissues serving their duty to tidy, Liam picking up her clothing and helping her dress first so she stays warm before dressing himself.

He presses his lips against her forehead once more once they are done and he takes her hand, the both of them stepping out of the shadows to stroll back towards the front of the Opera House.

When they check their phones, they realise they’ve received at least twenty missed calls and unread messages from a worried Maxwell who seemed convinced they’ve been killed by drop bears, more worried texts and missed calls from Hana, a few from Olivia and the latest one being from Drake – “If you two don’t get your fucking asses back here to shut Maxwell up, I swear to fucking Zeus I will set the apple orchards on fire again. Cordonia can flounder for all I care, I’m moving to Australia.”

Liam lets out an almost nervous laughter as he quickly texts him back, letting him know that they got lost and will be waiting for them at the top of the steps of the Opera House.

They sit at the top of the steps, Liam directly behind her with his arms around her frame. It was a glorious view before them; the bustle of people still very much evident, lights and music coming from the Royal Botanical Gardens on the left, excited screams of children down near the front of Circular Quay, the changing colours of the Sydney Harbour Bridge on the right with the colours controlled at some distant panel somewhere by the crowds as part of the festival and the warm glow of lights from the Opera House behind them.

“I’m so glad we came here, my love.” Liam speaks almost absentmindedly as his fingers try to brush through her hair.

“Yea? I’m glad too, Liam. I’m happy I was able to share a part of my home with you…”, Her smile is soft as she leans into his chest, looking up at him.

“It was the least I can do… It’s not fair for you that you threw everything away to move to Cordonia and me being unable to return the favour.” Liam leans down to kiss her upside-down nose.

She grins, “It was very considerate of you to book us rooms at Park Hyatt… Having sex with you with Opera House in the background and actually doing it at the Opera House is quite different.”

Liam chuckles and raises an eyebrow at her, “Are you implying we come back here for round two later?”

“Nah, there’s other famous Sydney landmarks that I want us to visit.”, She winks at him.

“…And I’m the kinky one?”

Her smile is so blindingly bright and beautiful. She reaches up to caress his cheek, admiring the feel of his peppered stubble under her fingertips. “Thank you for this amazing surprise, Liam. I love it, and I love you.”

He stares down at her with such love in his eyes, she feels like she is going to melt.

“You are most welcome.”, Liam leans down once more to press his lips onto hers. “Happy birthday, my love. Here’s to many more.”

[goscorpgeo-blog]

Drama Production Blog

Week 7

I joined the group after a lengthy time off due to an operation. My crew were already very prepared and informative in relation to the script and what was required of me. No members of the crew had decided on the editorial role yet which was ideal for myself. I was in charge of finding fitting music and creating a music return sheet just in preparation for the later production stage. I read the script which gave me a much better understanding of the tone and the type of music that would be suited. I was very happy to be editor for the group drama as my ambition is in that field.

Week 8

The crew and I discussed plans for a production meeting as it was getting closer to the shooting dates. On the 7th of March we scheduled a meeting for 2pm in the City of Glasgow College. In the meeting we discussed what equipment will be used. Our goal is to maximise the potential of the equipment and use the likes of dollies to add a more cinematic aspect to the short drama. The crew and I also discussed the rules and regulations of shooting with a young child. It was made clear that the child actor could only work for 45 minutes at a time with an interval in-between to ensure he wasn’t working for long periods of time.

As editor, I am not responsible for being onset during the shooting days, however, I decided to go on the 2nd day of shooting on the 8th of March. Our crew met at the college building around 10:30am and made a journey to Grangemouth. I feel being on-set allowed me to properly gain an understanding of the tone and atmosphere of the short film. I offered my help with moving kit and was assigned as script supervisor to ensure that the lines were said correctly and to make any adaptations if required. I enjoyed being out with my crew as we all worked well as a unit and most of all, as professionals. Max was very good as director as he knew exactly what he needed. The crew in general were very good at each role which most definitely helped the production go smoothly.

Week 9

A week after shooting, it was time to prepare for the edit. Max (director) and I arranged dates to be editing over the Easter Holiday period. The college building remained open over the full 2 weeks to allow time for students to study or work. Initially, we sat and watched the clips together so I could see what kind of shots etc that I would be working with. Thankfully, there were a wide range of shots to choose between. This makes it much better for an editor as it gives variety to the drama and it allows the editor to manipulate the pacing overall. Max and I began the edit scene by scene. I enjoy working with Max as he is very concise and specific on how he wanted things to be done. We were able to problem solve several times throughout the start of the edit due to issues with continuity. Each editing session we had the script beside us to follow and ensure everything was accurate.

Week 10

The aim for week 10 was to power through more of the edit and touch up on any on audio tweaks that we left on purpose. We had an issue which really affected the continuity of the drama. We did not have a wide where one of the actors was looking at the other whilst he talking. This affected the next shot as the take we were aiming to use, started with him looking at the actor who was talking. We sat for around 40 minutes trying to think of ways around it, however, nothing was working. Max suggested that we found another take where the actor is looking at the other actor and then mask the original take and the secondary take together to create one scene. The shots were both wide and static so the possibility of it working was high. I combined the two clips together and feathered the other half, tweaked the colour and it worked. I think this was a really great example of Max’s problem solving mind alongside my editing skills to make it possible. We continued editing for the next three days straight from 10am-3pm. This really gave us the opportunity to maximise our time and take advantage of it. We also had to consider the aspect of music, we searched online for royalty free music. YouTube audio library had a few things which we liked in terms of tone, yet also a simple YouTube search gave us more than what we needed in terms of content. Most artists were fine with simply being credited in descriptions. We felt it would be necessary to consider adding artist names into end credits as well. It was difficult trying to find the right piece of music as most were overly dramatic or just simply did not fit the tone.

Week 11

Max and I felt that the bulk of the edit was complete. We edited Tuesday and Wednesday to tweak anything that needed fixing. When editing the starting sequence, we initially decided to keep the audio from the actors in, however, we tried something different and left a solo audio piano piece instead. This gave the starting sequence a completely different feel which in the end, we preferred. I also created moving opening credit titles as well as rolling credits. I was willing to spend a lot of time on the end credits, however, for efficiency, Max and I decided to keep them simple yet effective. These credits were just a rough draft for the time being. We spent time away from the actual edit to focus on colour grading. This was tricky as a lot of the clips were different exposures and some were white balanced completely different to others. This meant I had to sit and individually colour correct each clip on the timeline to even out tones and adjust brightness. Despite spending a lot of time on it, some clips were very difficult to even out, I had to settle for what I already had at times. Overall, I would say the colour was pretty consistent.

Week 12

After a rough cut was rendered, we were then able to show the rest of our crew and lecturer the work that Max and I had been doing over the two week period. Our lecturer gave us some tips for improvement, however, overall she was very pleased with the outcome and had no real issues with it. Thankfully our work had paid off and it was simple tweaks that needed fixed and nothing major. Our crew were happy with the drama also. Max took note of the things that needed tweaking such as some colour indifference's, clip shortenings and credit adaptations. The final deadline for submission was the 23rd of April. We knew that we had enough time to finalise the edit and submit despite the bank holiday weekend. The tips that we had noted would really take no time at all.

Week 13

On the 23rd of April, Max and I came into college early and started working on some of the tweaks that needed done. Due to us losing the After Effects credit file, we essentially had to recreate the end credits. Although this was time consuming, it was still do-able even before our 1pm class. After our class, myself and Max went back into the editing suite to replace the old credits and then it was simply a case of rendering out our final cut and submitting. Overall, I would say this was one of the

smoothest productions of all and I very much enjoyed working on it with a great group of people who were all very motivated with it. I had no issues with any members of crew or even cast.

[butyouvealwaysbeenthecaretaker]

GUYS WHAT SHOULD I SPEND MY MONEY ON

(Apart from "saving it, as after this experience, there is no chance of you getting another job for...years, probably")

I kinda want to go to college to study costume making; but I'm still a long way off affording a 3 year course. And that's a hideous investment for a thing which likely won't pan out as a career.

There are yearlong courses you can go on which are around the £3000 mark, but that's still so much & makes me feel...antsy about making a commitment like that. It might be transformative; it might be pants; it's a lot of money to gamble on an experience which is so uncertain. For example, I've read the course handbooks for stuff like hairdressing at that price point and I don't want to spend a module studying ie studio safety.

(I wish education was cheaper so I could be more open to it as experience, rather than, how do I maximise the money and time invested? But that's where we are)

There's also a local college that does month courses for like £100 each - and these look good. So I guess it's a way to dip the toe in? But we're moving soon; I don't know what's available where we're going.

Or I could get piano lessons. I don't know how I feel about this, though. My hands still hurt a lot when I do anything; and maybe it'll make me feel sadder to try and do something about it?

Or I could save it for a house deposit towards the stupid Victorian villa of my dreams? Or maybe a pension?

Idk. I don't feel able to do any of these things, but I do think I should choose at least one stupid luxury "I wouldn't have been able to do this otherwise" purchase to soften the last year.

Maybe just freedom and forgiveness should be the goal, like, keeping it in my account and trying to free myself from stressing about the cost of rice for a few months. Because thst habit is more about my state of mind than the cost of anything, and having a financial cushion seems like the right time to try and break it.

More than anything, it's making me reflect on like...the inadequacy of money to actually buy needed things. I just got a sweet windfall, and all I can think is - I want a house. I want neighbours. I want to know where I am is the place that I will be for decades. I want a job. I want co-workers. I want to know the place I am is where I ought to be. I want to work towards a creative career where I'm using my hands more.

And the reason I can't have these things is so deep rooted and systemic that even a large amount of surprise extra money does not make a dint in the problem. I don't want to be ungrateful because, I could feel this sad and also not have free money; but it's not free money, it was bought at the expense of my body and mental health, and it's not enough to un-do that experience or prevent it happening again in future so, what's the point of anything?

[razieltwelve]

Foundation (Final War)

Jaine watched the new settlement rise with a growing sense of satisfaction. The journey across the sea had not been easy, and there had been many close calls with sea serpents and other denizens of the deep, but they had finally found a place to call their own. The island was not the largest one they had encountered, but it was ideally situated. As an admiral’s daughter who could very easily have opted for a life in the navy were it not for her magical talent, the location’s potential was obvious.

This was a defensible location that could also serve as a highly productive port. The main dangers lay in attack from air or sea and in the potential for enemies to gather along the coast. She hadn’t put too much stock in that last one, but Callie had suggested she secure the nearby coast as soon as possible. Securing access to the coastline would also allow them to forage, gather supplies, and explore while keeping their growing settlement safe.

So far, they had yet to encounter stern resistance, and so Jaina had ordered that the outposts on the mainland be strengthened. That was another one of Callie’s suggestions. Whether it was gut instinct or simply experience, the other woman seemed convinced that if they didn’t seize the territory now, someone else would, and that would give them an open path to the island.

Jaina smiled faintly. The island? No. It was Theramore now, or at least, it would be in time.

“What are you planning for today?”

Jaina turned. Callie could move silently if she chose, which only added to the mystery of her past. If Callie was simply a sailor, then Jaina would eat her robes. No, the other woman knew how to sail with the best of them, but her knowledge was far too diverse. 

When they had started building their settlement on the island, Callie had offered countless suggestions on a range of different topics from defence to resource gathering and even the way the streets should be laid out to maximise efficiency. Even the way she carried herself hinted at someone of noble birth or, at the very least, someone who had once held a position of high standing. The others saw it too, and they soon began to defer to her, acknowledging her as Jaina’s second-in-command.

And, in fairness, that wasn’t too far from the truth. Jaina was an incredibly powerful and gifted sorceress, but she was not used to leading so many people in a situation like this. Thankfully, she had skilled people around her, Callie foremost amongst them, and she listened to them and heeded their advice. Callie had also made it a point of teaching her what she knew.

“I won’t be around forever,” Callie had said one day, smiling. “So, you’d best learn this now.”

Jaina shook herself out of her musing, well aware that Callie was grinning. “Hush. I know I’ve been distracted lately, but there is a lot on my mind. As for today… I had thought to begin sending explorations further afield. This place feels too vast for us to be the only significant force here, and I have sensed… disturbances.”

“Oh?”

“There is powerful magic at work here,” Jaina continued. “And not all of it feels wholesome. You were right to urge the construction of further defences, and I hope that they are ready when the times comes.”

Callie chuckled. “You have a talent for brooding, my lady. But further exploration would be a good idea. I’ve received word from some of our stragglers that others are not far behind.”

“Is that so?” Not all of the fleet had arrived at the same time. Storms had separated them, and even now, ships were arriving one by one. “From the east?”

“Yes. It seems we’re not the only ones who decided to flee when Lordaeron fell.” Callie’s eyes narrowed. “I suggest you prepare yourself. This is your city, my lady. Or it will be. It’s best to cut down anyone with delusions of grandeur before they can get started.”

“You think it will come to that?”

“It might,” Callie replied.

“Who were you before you became a sailor?” Jaina asked quietly. “You’ve helped me a great deal, and I am grateful, but you are no ordinary sailor.”

“As I’ve said, my lady, I have been many things.” Callie grinned. “I’ve been a soldier, a spy, a scout, and so many other things. In fact, being a sailor is a relatively recent occupation.” She inclined her head. “But you can rest assured that I am here to help you.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it someday,” Jaina said before a sudden sound caught her attention. It was the bell for an aerial attack. She turned her gaze skyward and readied a spell as some… creature soared through the air, only for Callie to mutter a curse.

“Couldn’t she have been more subtle?” Callie grumbled before she turned to Jaina with an apologetic smile. “I know that creature, my lady. It belongs to a… friend of mine.”

“I see.” Jaina’s eyes narrowed. “It seems we’ll be having that talk sooner rather than later.”

The resulting talk was beyond awkward. If Callie was to be believed, then she was a denizen of another world who had been stranded here with some of her friends. The only reason that Jaina didn’t simply call her a liar was because such things were possible. The orcs were living proof of the existence of other worlds. Likewise, this creature that had arrived looked like nothing she had ever seen before.

“You lied to me,” Jaina accused.

“I prefer to think of it as not mentioning the truth.” Callie grinned impishly. “And have I ever given you reason to doubt my loyalty? If I want to get home, then helping you establish your settlement is the quickest way to do it.”

“Very well.” Jaina was not happy about this development, but she would endure it for the time being. “And what news does your friend’s creature bring?”

“Apparently,” Callie said, unrolling a parchment the creature had carried. “The orcs are on this continent, and they are currently embroiled in a struggle with the natives. My friend is lending her aid to the natives, but she would like for some of us to venture there to help negotiate.”

“Negotiate?” Jaina murmured.

“You said before that you sensed foul magic,” Callie began. “You were right. There are far worse things than orcs here. Demons from other worlds have begun to arrive.”

“And you think we might have to ally with these natives and the orcs?”

“Or die.”

“Wonderful.” Jaina sighed. “Give me some time to think about this.”

X     X     X

Cinnamon winced as another one of the orcs exploded in a burst of gore. Her Hydralisks were tearing through the oncoming mass of orcs like hot knives through butter. Thanks to years of genetic engineering, they could switch between multiple types of projectiles. Right now, she had ordered them to use explosive needles. The orcs were big enough that the standard spines that were so effective at piercing armour might simply pass through them without dealing lethal damage. However, blowing them apart was definitely proving to be effective.

Not far off, one of her custodians unleashed a brilliant burst of psionic energy to ward off another spell. Based on her research, psionic energy and Aura could be used to combat the various kinds of magic in this world, so she had instructed her psionically gifted creations to protect their brethren. She was never a fan of simply throwing Imperial Zerg into the grinder, especially not when she had yet to build up an appropriately huge swarm.

Nevertheless, the orc assault soon began to peter out as several impaler nests took root and began to attack. It was kind of hard to continue advancing when huge spikes and tentacles were impaling everybody. As the orcs retreated, Cinnamon turned her attention to some guests arriving from the opposite direction.

Shayla had left to consult with her superiors, but the night elves had been delayed due to attacks from the orcs. It was odd. These orcs appeared to have been further corrupted by demonic energy. Events were likely beginning to accelerate, which was why she had sought Kahle out so openly. The other woman was masquerading as a sailor, but there were some things worth breaking cover for. Besides, the sooner that Kahle told Jaina the truth, the quicker they could move on to dealing with the true threat.

“So… you are the one that Shayla told us about… the… beast master.” 

Cinnamon studied the night elves who had appeared. Much like Shayla, they didn’t wear much in the way of armour. It made Cinnamon wonder about their tactics. Sure, armour might not be the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was actually useful in battle. Fighting half naked? Nope. If Cinnamon had her way, she was never, ever going into battle without power armour and shields.

“Just call me Cinnamon. And try to ignore the mess. The orcs tried to take some of my territory.”

“I see. I am Genna Shadowsinger, and I thank you for dealing with these… savages. You have certainly had more luck than we have.”

“Meh. I’ve had practice.” Cinnamon gestured for them to follow her. “So are you here to negotiate?”

“I am,” Genna replied. “We wish to make an alliance. The territory you hold is of no consequence to us, and you have proven peaceful toward us thus far. The orcs, however, seek to lay waste our lands and the ones you fought off have already destroyed several of our groves in their search for lumber. Aid us against the orcs, and we will leave this territory to you, provided you do not proceed any closer to the forest.”

“Fair enough,” Cinnamon said. “But just keep in mind that the orcs may be the least of your problems.” She gestured, and one of her zerglings darted forward with something. “See that?”

Genna stared. “That is part of… a demon.”

“Yes. My scouts have been spotting them more and more. We’ve dealt with them easily so far, but where there is one…”

“There are always more,” Genna hissed. “I must inform the High Priestess of this at once. If demons have begun to return in earnest…”

“Go ahead.” Cinnamon smiled. “But if we’re going to be allies, I’ll need someone to stay and hammer out the details with.”

“Shayla,” Genna replied. “You are in charge of this. See to it.”

[gaiatheorist]

Improvising, and unpaid labour.

Half past four in the morning, I’m working around how to make a pie and a curry at the same time, with my ‘limited capacity’. I’m also factoring in energy costs, the impact of processes on end-products, and how to maximise my use of the ‘dead’ time between stages. My disabilities have an impact on my available functional hours, the hyper-vigilance that comes with my PTSD perversely helps me to portion-out my productivity. (Thanks, Mother, you didn’t teach me how to cook, or clean, or budget, but some other things you didn’t do mean that I can.)

Oliver Burkeman in this morning’s Guardian, is using the term ‘shadow work’. Most of us have always acknowledged that we have to do our own cooking, household chores and such. The category on my PIP award that scored the highest number of ‘points’ was ‘preparing and cooking food’. In reality, I actually find some of the other descriptor-categories more difficult, dangerous, and draining, but I was able to list more adaptations to my food-processing practices. If you don’t eat, you die. (Yes, that’s dramatic, it would take weeks to starve to death. If I miss too many meals, the blood sugar dip impacts on my background fatigue. I forget to turn the heating on, or take painkillers on schedule, and there’s that foggy-fugue state, where I’ll just stare at the phone until it stops ringing. I also sleep too much, not to escape the hunger-pangs, I don’t feel those, but because my body realises I have no energy, and effectively CTRL/ALT/DEL shuts me down.) 

‘Shadow work’ takes on a different meaning when there’s a disability to factor in. It’s not just the “I’ve put it in the bag, you beepy bastard!” annoyance at the self-scan checkout, or remembering dozens of passwords for online utility billing and such, it’s varying degrees of everything. 

Necessity is the mother of invention. I had a short discussion with an acquaintance earlier this week, he’s damaged his ankle, and has a cast and crutches for a minimum of nine weeks. This is the first week, and he’s finding a huge number of basic tasks difficult. I’ve actually offered to go to his house and help out during this initial adjustment phase. By week four, he’ll be managing everything much more easily, and by week six, he’ll quite possibly be finding uses for the crutches that the NHS wouldn’t like endorsing. It’s what people do, we improvise and adapt. That particular chap ‘only’ has nine weeks of this, but it’s still a useful analogy. Cast-and-crutches, or one arm in a sling, or your car off the road, after the initial “Well, this is an absolute disaster.”, you start to work around things. 

I’m looking at the idea of ‘shadow work’ from multiple angles. Head-on, the increase in automation of some previously-human employment will flood the labour market with the people who used to do a job that a machine does now, that’s increased competition for jobs, which will be a concern for me when I’m fit-for-work. Historically, I objected to part of my previous job becoming automated, which was at odds with my principles, and odd in that I’d streamlined another part of my job, to need as little human-input as possible. The future is computers, though, and it’s none of my business how that all-singing-all-dancing software actually works in practice. 

Recently, I’ve been entangled in doing shadow work for DWP, ‘Sleeping with the enemy’ to provide information that they already have, for their fancy new system. (Pride goes before a fall, but I’m probably using it more effectively than the staff paid to use it, they could have cut a significant number of person-hours if they’d followed my initial straightforward suggestion, instead of their convoluted one. They’re making part of my payment manually while I chase the ex to change the tenancy agreement, instead of a 30-second check with HMRC. They’re also making me ill, boo-hoo, poor me.) I saw a quote, I can’t remember the source, someone within DWP stating that claimants weren’t allocated any payments during the first week of a claim, because “The claim process won’t give people time to write a CV.” Furious, me? (I’m always furious, frontal lobe brain injury.) 

Despite peripheral issues in an imminent brain-scan, and providing evidence to student finance, I managed to fill in the forms, and find the additional evidence that was behind the ‘beware of the tiger’ tab. (Wasted trip to the cash-point, thanks to Kenneth on the help-line, who’d told me to take an advice-slip issued on the day, when what the system actually asked for was two months of bank statements.) Luckily for all concerned, the new work coach barely glanced at the bank statements, I was fully expecting the Spanish Inquisition on the plethora of Amazon purchases after the PIP money went into my account. Mostly disability-aids for ‘normal’ household tasks, and repairing/replacing things I hadn’t been able to do while I was living on fresh air and food bank parcels as it goes, but I’d overheard enough “You don’t NEED Sky Sports, cancel it.” interviews to know there was the potential for them to pick through the statement. 

I’d filled in the forms, secured the requested evidence, and moved onto the next task on the ‘to-do’ menu, because it was there. “Oh, you already have a CV uploaded, that’s great!” and “Did you write these? They’re excellent.” I’d done my work coach’s job for her, and I’d done it very, very well. (Arya Stark “You want to watch that one.” and such. That’s not a threat, it’s a reference to the conversation my previous work coach probably thought I couldn’t hear, “She will already have done it.”) *Liam Neeson voice over* “I am a nightmare.” It’s the paranoia that keeps me three steps ahead, I know I’ll have days when I’m less functional, so I ‘bank’ tasks before they’re due, to avoid missing deadlines, I did that before the disability, to mitigate against working hours lost to migraines, and ensure I never left colleagues in the s*it if I was absent. Now, with ‘please log in today’ emails pinging to my phone all over the place, that anxiety is compounded, my work coach has confirmed that my claim won’t be ‘stopped’ if I don’t respond same-day, and noted a mitigation/reasonable adjustment that I’m less functional later in the day, but there’s still that anxiety about missing a computer-generated ‘task.’ and incurring a sanction. My phone battery is wearing down faster because I’m repeatedly logging into my email, in case one has come through while I’ve been in a signal dead-spot. Shadow-work, the coach probably ‘should’ have made me an appointment in a month to review my Claimant Commitment, and another a month after that to write a CV. It’s done, she doesn’t ‘need’ to see me again until January, except she will, because I’ll have to produce a copy of the tenancy agreement once the ex sorts it out. 

That’s not the only shadow-work I’ve done for DWP. There was the pointless ‘Work Capability Assessment’, and the horrendous PIP process as well. Almost half of women taken through the WCA process have attempted suicide. I know I contemplated it once or twice, and that’s a major admission coming from me. (I don’t know why that statistic only focused on women, unless it’s because men are more likely to complete suicide, due to choosing different methods, that’s a different scenario, ending-all as opposed to reaching that point, and still having to live through it.) 70% of PIP applications that are initially declined are accepted at Tribunal. It took me 17 months, from applying for PIP this time, to having my ‘award’ granted at Tribunal, and it wasn’t 17 months of sitting on my behind just waiting for it to happen. There are agencies and individuals who can assist with WCA and PIP processes, but they’re stretched too thin to cover everyone who needs help, and I’m a bugger for prioritising the needs of others over my own. (I’m also something of a control freak, I’m very difficult to work with when I perceive others working inefficiently, my “Oh, you’re making a right mess of that, give it here!” streak is strong.) During the UC/WCA/PIP process, I was over-stretching myself, and I became very frayed as a result. I was over-stretched in part because I should have asked for help sooner, and in part because when I did ask for help, it was too stretched and fragmented to be of any use. A social prescribing case-worker, a social worker, a welfare rights advocate, and two ladies from Citizens Advice. Little old brain damaged me, sitting in the middle of this fragile web of support, asking one party not to duplicate work being done by another, to save them work-load, and trying not to bang my head on the desk and say “It would be easier if you did it *this* way.”   

Shadow-work. Providing the same medical evidence to two different parts of DWP. “Rolling six benefits into one”, my arse, the ‘disability’ part is still separate from the ‘unemployment’ part, I have an award of PIP for three years, which is completely distinct from the one year notice of ‘limited capacity for work’. Both departments have exactly the same evidence on me, I know, because I photocopied the files myself. (At 10p a page, I’ll have you know.) 

The PIP process, and the WCA strand not only involved a hell of a load of shadow-work in terms of admin and coordination from me, they also cast light, and, paradoxically, shadow on my improvisations. Back to the crutches/cast analogy, you look at where you are, and where you need to be, and you figure out whether you can get there. You fall over a bit, and adjust your methods to avoid falling over again. Unless you can’t get up, and the police end up breaking in when the neighbours report the flies, and the smell. There are hundreds, or thousands of things I can’t do ‘normally’ any more, so I’ve had to make my own ‘reasonable adjustments’. (Some of them are bizarre, some are profoundly maladaptive, but they get me through most days without major incident.) Those improvisations, the additional shadow-load that’s on me every single day of my life, for functions that used to be so simple they required no conscious processing are a Very Bad Thing when it comes to PIP and WCA ‘assessors.’ “You said you had difficulties with x, I have decided that you can x.” over and over again. I didn’t say I “couldn’t”, I said I have difficulties, but some bloke in an office somewhere can ‘decide that I can.’, and that’s supposed to be case-closed. At that point, I was supposed to ‘just get on with it’, to limp around my various disabilities as best I could, because a decision had been made that I wasn’t disabled enough. Physically, I can’t do that, but, more importantly in my twisted little head, emotionally, intellectually, and socially I can’t do it, without my deficits placing myself or others at risk of significant harm. If I have a bad fall, or a cognitive lapse, not only is my life at risk, but I could place others at risk when they have to fish me out of whatever mess I’ve landed myself in. I won’t do that.   

Another layer of shadow-work for DWP, painfully describing my improvisations in more detail. That part alone is enough to deter some people, it’s demeaning to have to explain, yet again, how you get on and off the toilet without assistance from another person. (Also the PIP system keeps the descriptor activities the same, but alters the qualifying thresholds without telling anyone. “Can you walk 200m?” has somehow morphed into some ambivalence about being able to move that distance, regardless of how long it takes, how difficult or painful it is, or what aids or adaptations are needed. They haven’t so much ‘shifted the goalposts’ as changed the game altogether.) I knew from the outset that the ‘computer says no’ would be the outcome, that the ‘assessors’ wouldn’t see the additional adjustments I have to make every day, they’d just bounce back that I ‘can’ complete all of the descriptors. Not repeatedly, reliably, or within a reasonable time-frame, though, and only with a massive degree of improvisation, which is physically and mentally draining, compounding the fatigue-element of my condition. (Shuddering at the thought of ‘home help’ assisting me with washing, dressing, or toileting, but that’s the PTSD, and PIP claims only deal with your most-recent condition, not anything underlying that compounds it, bizarre system.) 

You’re damned if you do improvise, because DWP/PIP will tick the ‘can’ box, the ‘fit for work’ box. You’re damned if you don’t, because some faceless decision-maker will decide you’re just not trying hard enough. What about the people that can’t improvise? The ones who are already stretched to the limits of their functional capacity? Have they tried just not being disabled/depressed/dependent? 

“Making work pay.” is a cute tag-line, but underneath it is the reality that vulnerable and disabled people are being churned through a workhouse that doesn’t work. We’re inputting our own admin. I have some cognitive issues, but nowhere near as high a level as some people. I have some visual issues, and my left hand doesn’t work properly, reading and typing are time-intensive, and painful, but I ‘can’ do it for a narrow window, given plenty of screen-breaks, some people can’t. It’s not hyperbole at all to say that this government has blood on its hands, it does, and it will have more to come while these systems are in place. People will fall through the gaps in the system, which will suit statistics, because ‘unemployment figures are falling.’ People. People are falling, into a shadow-realm of not being counted as ‘anything’. Some people’s improvisations to deal with that will be brutal. Domestic violence will increase when the ‘dole money’ suddenly stops going into bank accounts. Street robberies and burglaries will increase when people run out of their own things to sell. Referrals to social care and food banks will continue to increase. Evictions will increase, placing additional strain on local authorities to provide emergency accommodation, and I seriously doubt that people in emergency accommodation will be able to satisfy the conditionality of checking their online account for ‘to-do’ actions. Two-for-one sanctions there, I wonder if there are bonuses for that? 

This isn’t working, I genuinely don’t believe it was ever meant to, I think that the intent all along was for it to be so complex and intensive that people would just opt-out. All well and good if that opt-out is into gainful employment, some of the opt-outs will be of a more permanent nature, and the government will still have to allocate resources to deal with the very long shadows this shadow-work will create.

[oosteven-universe]

Eternals: Celestia #1

Eternals: Celestia #1 Marvel Comics 2021 Written by Kieron Gillen Illustrated by Kei Zama Ink Assists John LIvesay Coloured by Matthew Wilson Lettered by VC’s Clayton Cowles    THERE IS NO GOD FOR THE ETERNALS!    Now that the truth of their existence is revealed, Ajak and Makkari must pick up the pieces and try to find a road forward... no matter how terrifying it will be, or how their choices will irrevocably shock the rest of the Eternals? Also: How do the Avengers of 1,000,000 BCE figure into it?    Oh I am so very much enjoying the current version of the Eternals as portrayed by Kieron.  This is a great issue for so many reasons and not least among them is seeing Ajak formulate a plan that could turn into the next big Marvel Event, please don’t make it company wide and let it just be its own limited series nothing else.  It does introduce us to Ajak and Makkari and their tumultuous family history which shows that families will fight with one another and still have their back no matter what.  It also delves deeper into the Eternals' history and past and allows the reader to better understand these people and how they live now and in the past and it’s actually quite telling and interesting.    I love, love the way that this is being told.  The story & plot development that we see through how the sequence of events unfold as well as how the reader learns information is presented exceptionally well.  The character development that we see through the narration, the dialogue, the character interaction as well as how we see them act and react to the situations and circumstances which they encounter really brings their personalities to the forefront.  The pacing is excellent and as it takes us through the pages revealing more and more of the story the more I want to see.  It really has this wonderful cause and effect going on here and Kieron has turned these Eternals into one of my most sought after series.    I do appreciate how we see this being structured and the layers within the story begin to emerge and grow.  The way that these layers open up these new avenues to be explored and boy are there a few that I really want to see more of.  What these avenues add in terms of depth, dimension and complexity to the story is marvellous to see.  How we see everything working together to create the story’s ebb & flow as well as how it moves the story forward is impeccably achieved.    The interiors here are utterly sublime.  The linework is exquisite and how we see the varying weights and techniques being utilised to create this level & quality of detail within the work is just astonishing.  That we see backgrounds like we do is amazing in how they expand and enhance the moments.  They also work within the composition of the panels to bring out the depth perception, sense of scale and the overall sense of size and scope to the story.  The utilisation of the page layouts and how we see the angles and perspective in the panels show a remarkably talented eye for storytelling.  The various hues and tones within the colours being utilised to create the shading, highlights and shadow work show an exceptional eye for how colour works and how to maximise its effects. ​    I absolutely love seeing more and more about the Eternals, their past and how it affects the present.  This hammers home the idea that without their gods and without a real purpose, they don’t need to babysit the humans any longer, what is next for them?  This is an exciting time for the Eternals and with the rising threat of Thanos and the Machine not functioning properly well it just makes what they experience all the more exciting.  This is so expertly written with some wondrous characterisation and these utterly sublime interiors bringing it all to life beautifully.  This is a phenomenal addition to the series and I hope we see more along these lines.  

[meaningofmotorsport]

Hamilton’s 100th & Da Costa conquers Monaco! - Saturday Racing Round Up

F1

FP3 gave us a hint that qualifying would be a closely fought affair, as it proved to be, with the first runs in Q3 being crucial, and leaving Lewis just 3 thousandths ahead of Max. Race pace you would imagine, could favour Mercedes, however, with the 600m run to Turn 1, Mercedes haven’t won it yet!

It was a brilliant lap from Hamilton, as he marks his 100th pole in style. The key thing tomorrow, is that if it is close, Mercedes have a second car in the mix, whereas Perez had another disappointing day, ending up in the middle of the midfield. So tomorrow, Verstappen will need to be on his A-game, to come out on top! Bottas once again was a few tenths down, saying he lost it in Turn 10, can he play any part in the race tomorrow?

Ferrari are the masters of one lap pace it seems, at least compared to McLaren, as Leclerc grabbed 4th in the dying seconds of Q3. From there can he get into his own rhythm, and keep the McLaren’s at bay? Sainz also drove well, but given he was beating Charles a lot of this weekend, he may be slightly annoyed. Norris I am sure will not be happy with himself, as he had much better pace than 9th. On a track where overtaking is not easy, it could be hard to make up many positions.

It was a very solid drive by Ocon, to get on the third row, as the Alpine continues to get stronger, the more they understand the upgrades. With the late race pace they had in Portimao, don’t count them out of topping the midfield. Ricciardo may have finally got to grips with the car he has under him, although we know that Lando didn’t maximise his day. Can Daniel push forward in the race, or be under threat from behind?

AlphaTauri are starting to look lost this year, when we saw Tsunoda out in Q1, it was assumed to be rookie errors, and an anomaly, but then Gasly couldn’t reach Q3, so the car is just not to their liking it seems! They need to decide if this year is salvageable, or if they should concentrate on next year!

Aston Martin and Alfa Romeo are about where we expected them to be, just off the back of the mid field pack. Russell once again did a brilliant lap on a Saturday, however I fear all the good work will be undone early on in the race, if the car can’t work in dirty air! Well done also to Mick Schumacher, for outqualifying a Williams, and was only two tenths off Kimi, can he replicate last weekend’s race pace here?

Looking at the race, don’t expect much from it, although with the top teams starting on the softs, strategy choices could be interesting. Otherwise, the long run to Turn 1, will be where it is won and lost!

Formula E

It turns out you can overtake in Monaco, as Formula E had an absolute classic, with some incredible moves for the lead!

This year has not gone well for Da Costa, after storming to the title last year, but finally he got the win today, and he definitely deserved it! He managed the race really well, saving energy, and not getting flustered. Then when Mitch was ahead, he just pushed him hard, making him use up energy, and took his chance on the final lap, with an all or nothing move, which he pulled off to perfection, to earn the win in Monaco.

Frijns had a weird race, early on he seemed unbeatable, pressuring the Techeetah’s before pulling away from them. But all of a sudden, they caught him again, and he couldn’t really challenge for the win at the end. The bonus for them, is that they have pace in both race and qualifying at Virgin, which is shown by the fact he now leads the championship!

That is gutting for Evans, who fought so well for most of the race, making some brilliant moves, especially the one on Da Costa up the hill, which no one thought he could do, but in the end he used too much energy, which cost him the win! The cause of him using too much energy goes back to qualifying, where he didn’t maximise the potential of the car in Superpole, as he slid the car around the track. If he had started from pole, he could have managed the race much better, as opposed to the fighting he had to endure today! Some of the fights were with Vergne, who lost a lot of time through missing his second attack mode activation, and when you bear in mind he was ahead of Mitch before then, his race could have ended very differently! At least he got some good points, which the team has been lacking somewhat, so far this year!

Guenther needed a day like today, for both him and the team, as BMW do not want to leave the sport on a low note. He qualified and finished about where he should be, as he couldn’t quite battle those in front, yet stayed out of the chaos behind! Rowland as always was being aggressive, both in defence and attack, the car did pretty well for energy management, which must be a huge boost for the team!

Unlike his teammate, Bird couldn’t extract the pace from the car in qualifying, despite being so fast in practice. So, the race was all about minimising the deficit in the championship, which he succeeded pretty well in, as helped by crashes around him, he climbed up to 7th by the finish, still in the title hunt! Cassidy may actually be slightly disappointed with how the race ended, given where his teammate was, as well as the pace he showed in parts of the race. Nevertheless, he should come away from here happy, as he is still getting used to this style of racing!

As you would expect in Monaco, there were a fair few DNF’s, including both Mercedes, who’s weekends had already been ruined in qualifying. Can they bounce back in Mexico? Rast could have had another very solid result today, as he was in the top ten, with better energy than anyone else, as is his trademark it seems. Sadly, he was too bold when trying to make a pass though, and ruined his race!

Seeing this race makes you wonder why they ever used the shorter layout, although given how tight the energy management was, it was probably best they waited until now! Once again Formula E has given us a belter of a race, without letting any driver take charge in the championship, if anything, today has brought more drivers, like Da Costa, into contention!

-M

[normalforglastonbury]

A Tranquil Oasis in the Heart of the Somerset Countryside.

James and Tara White got in touch to ask me to write about  Old Oaks Touring and Glamping Park. I was curious, although the Park is at the foot of the Tor and less than 2.5 miles from Glastonbury Town centre, I had never visited.

While Old Oaks wasn’t quite what I expected, having only experienced ‘glamping’ in a festival context and is certainly not what I’d think of as ‘Normal for Glastonbury’, I was to discover that those things are precisely what recommends it to thousands of visitors, who enjoy its tranquil surroundings and luxurious accommodation. Plus, it’s one of the most eco-friendly businesses in town, driven by James’s obvious passion for biodiversity, wildlife and the natural environment.

I asked James and Tara what they wanted from a post about Old Oaks, they knew that I don’t write straightforward advertorials for the blog, but I am interested in sharing pieces about people’s relationship with Glastonbury Town. It quickly became apparent that their main aim is to forge closer ties with businesses and creative people in Glastonbury. James said “We’ve got customers here, we want to maximise the benefit for the whole local economy”

A Short History of Old Oaks Touring Park

One of the Cedar Lodges at Old Oaks

James’s family have been in the area for “7 or 8 generations”. His grandad bought the 90 acre farm in 1918, and his mum and dad started the park in 1981, with pitches for just 5 vans. In 1987 they were granted a license for 40 pitches. It was a family park for 15 years, but children were often left unsupervised by their parents and would investigate the working farm, putting themselves in danger of falling in the slurry pit, or worse!

In view of this, and the lack of specific activities for children locally, it was decided to make the park a quiet, adults only site. At the same time, campervans and caravans were beginning to replace tents in popularity, so the grass camping pitches, which rapidly became muddy due to the heavy clay soil and frequent rain, were replaced with areas of hardstanding surrounded by generous swathes of lawn.

The Park covers 15 acres and has 100 pitches including 6 camping pods, 4 cedar lodges and 2 shepherd’s huts, with splendid views towards Wells Cathedral and the Mendip Hills. Nowadays, it is managed by James and Tara, although James’s Dad still helps out. James’s Mum and Dad still live next door and his brother Dan runs the farm, which supplies ethically reared beef and lamb to the likes of Stephens Butchers and the park’s own shop.

Years ago I’d heard grumbles from hippies in home-built campers that they’d had a less than friendly welcome from the owner (James’s Dad), so I was interested to discover how James, coming from such a long established local family, feels about the changes in the town.

He tells me that he and his brothers have grown up in (for want of a better word) ‘multicultural’ Glastonbury and he’s seen how many of the more ‘alternative’ in-comers have become part of the local economy. He praises Glastonbury’s wide choice of music, with gigs every night, the different coloured shops and the vibrancy of the town. He feels we don’t make enough of being a year-round destination, despite the fact that many people now take their holidays in every season, particularly loves the Frost Fair and thinks the Carnival should have activities going on all weekend, though he’s embarrassed by the town’s lacklustre Christmas decorations. He tells me their daughter loves Glastonbury and feels really lucky to have been bought up here.

I wonder what it was like for James growing up on a campsite, Tara tells me that when he was a young teenager, and the park still hosted families, he would inevitably check out the girl visitors of a similar age to him, but he’d also check their booking to see if they were staying around for long enough “to make it worth putting in the groundwork”. I can’t help thinking that this sort of forward planning put him in good stead to run a large and successful business. Nowadays James comes across as a very respectable, hardworking chap, but Tara also revealed that he was well known in his twenties, before he started working for the family business,  for occasionally “getting naked in the Rifleman’s Arms”.

James and Tara outside one of the Cedar Lodges

In her twenties, Tara would visit her sister who’d already moved to Glastonbury. on most weekends, drinking in the Rifleman’s Arms and finding Glastonbury a refreshing change from ‘Conservative, straight, boring Sussex’, Eventually she realised she was spending most of her earnings as a PA on petrol to travel to and from the town, so decided to move here.  She married James 13 years ago, but initially worked outside the family business, including a stint as a waitress in Nick Cottle’s ‘Monarch’ cafe, and then as a PA for Mendip District Council. She hadn’t wanted to get involved in the Park, but got pulled in after realising that PA work was ‘mind-numbingly boring’. She now loves her job, except for the endless paperwork, and shows clear delight in finding ways to offer guests unexpected special touches to make their stay more enjoyable.

James is the Head Gardener on site (as well as all his other jobs) and he proudly pointed out the razor-sharp neatness of the many hedges. I couldn’t help but ask if he was a Virgo, to which he replied: “It’s all a load of nonsense!”. He then had to admit that he is a Virgo and that I was the second person within a week to correctly guess his sun sign. Other people might attribute the success of the park to its being crossed by ley lines, but James leaves me in no doubt that, in his opinion, “there’s no such thing as leylines!” and besides, the park is clearly a product of many long hours of hard graft. Later, when I suggest that I am obviously more ‘cosmic’ than him he surprises me by revealing an interest in Chinese Medicine, because “it actually works!”

A Passion for Biodiversity

James and Tara take me for a walk around the site, the camping areas are in beautifully manicured gardens. I’m not keen on tamed nature as a rule, but there’s a great variety of shrubs, trees and flowers, and there’s a cider apple orchard at the centre of the park, it’s all rather lovely. James points out the plants that have been put in to benefit bees and birds as much as human visitors. Next, we walk through a field which James, true to his commitment to biodiversity and wildlife, is determined to turn into a wildflower meadow. He sowed it last year but wasn’t satisfied with the result, so he’ll be trying different plant varieties this time. Far be it for me to suggest that only a Virgo would demand perfection of a meadow.

Fisher-woman at Old Oaks Pond

There’s a lovely woodland walk through mature trees to the fishing pond, where several people sit quietly and happily casting their lines for tench, carp, roach and chub. Massed lily pads form circles in the centre of the pond, I imagine James wading in and nudging them into these perfect curves, Tara tells me they occurred naturally, but then mentions that James ‘tidies things up a bit’. Emerging from the calm stillness of the pond we come to the large chicken enclosure which provides the Park’s shop with fresh eggs, alongside the old apple orchard, kept to provide a home to wildlife.

Inevitably the subject of the planned bypass to the North of the Tor comes up. James told me he’s not concerned about the bypass affecting business, but he’s been walking the fields that the bypass would cross for his whole life and he’s horrified at the idea of this massive block of beautiful, unspoilt land being destroyed. He says “It will be a fox, badger, deer massacre!” He isn’t too worried, however, as the bypass has been talked about for his whole life, and nothing has happened yet.

You definitely can’t describe James as laid back, he’s clearly got tons of drive and energy and likes to see things done as well as possible. As he says “I don’t do mediocrity”. He’s particularly damning of the flower displays on Glastonbury’s roundabouts, with their single-use tulip bulbs and unimaginative bedding plants that are of no use to butterflies or bees, he has considered sponsoring a roundabout, as long as he gets to design the display with his choice of sustainable and bee friendly plants.

Keen to power the park with as much renewable energy as possible, James designed the beautiful and huge new shower block, with underfloor heating powered by renewable heat pump technology and a massive bank of solar water heaters on the roof. It may be super Green, but it’s also hotel quality. Unlike most campsites I’ve come across you’ll neither get splinters from bare wood or be looking at a whitewashed breezeblock wall while you wash, this place, like the rest of the park, is seriously plush. There are LED light mirror surrounds, hairdryers and high stools, I feel like I’ve wandered into an expensive hair stylist’s studio.

Sustainably powered shower block

Plush showers

Hotel quality facilities

A very hi-tech addition to the park is an emptying and cleaning station for chemical toilets, it’s the size and shape of a vending machine, but definitely doesn’t dispense chocolate bars. Campers drop their toilet cassette into a hatch and it is returned emptied, clean and topped up with eco-friendly toilet fluids. Unlike old-fashioned camping toilet chemicals, the waste can be processed on site, rather than having to be transported to the chemical waste treatment plant in Avonmouth. Their site sewage is processed through their on-site treatment system, before further treatment in the natural Victorian style reed bed system. The next plan is for a compost loo by the fishing lake.

Engaging with the Community and Local Businesses

A walk around the pond

Tara and James’s passion for sustainability doesn’t end with the Green initiatives in the park itself, they want to contribute to the financial sustainability of the town too. It grieves the couple that campsites are often seen as the ‘poor man’s B&B’ as they are supplying a 5-star service and know their visitors make a very significant contribution to the local economy. The average age of their customers is 55, they are towing £25k caravans, or paying equivalent rates to those charged by hotels to stay in the park’s glamping cabins and shepherd’s huts. These are not people packing their own sandwiches and looking for a cheap holiday. The glamping options are proving popular with younger couples looking for something luxurious but a bit different – proving the Old Oaks isn’t just for old folks.

They want to partner with as many local businesses as they can, they have lots of ideas for services that would be of benefit to their visitors. They’d love to work with someone offering bike hire and bike tours of the local area for instance. Tara runs a ‘Glastonbury Tours’ side business providing their campers with minibus transport to local events like the Glastonbury and Bridgwater Carnivals. the Extravaganza and Glastonbury Festival, as well as coaches for locals to events such as Pilton Party and West Fest. This creates a great opportunity for others to offer talks and walks to the campsite guests – like birdwatching on the Nature Reserves of the Avalon Marshes.

The Old Oaks Camping Shop

They often work with Mary from the Abbey Tea Rooms who makes the cakes they sell in their shop. On carnival night they book 3 coaches who ferry campers to and from the town (saving 100 cars from having to drive into and park in the town). Campers go to the Abbey Tea Rooms for a buffet and can stay and watch the carnival from there too.

Another of their initiatives is the ‘Good Food Club’ offering special deals at recommended local eateries to their campers. Also, rather than having their own restaurant on site they chose to partner up with local takeaways who deliver to the site, while I’m there a wood-fired pizza oven is being set up in the courtyard. Their modern and well-stocked shop sells essential supplies, camping goods and a wide variety of local produce – Orchard Pig ciders, Rose Farm preserves, meat from Steve the Butcher on the marketplace and beef, lamb and eggs from the family farm, White’s of Wick, you can’t get more local than that!.

Supporting Local Artists and Craftspeople

Anthony Rogers Sculpture

Local carpenter John Tucker made their first wooden glamping pods, with all the materials being locally sourced. When they found out an old oak tree on the drive was diseased and would have to be cut down they called in Anthony Rogers from Frome to carve it into a beautiful organic, spiralling form.

The first thing you see when you enter the park’s shop is a photograph of the Tor taken by Kev Pearson on two walls and Phil Holly’s locally made stained glass is for sale here too – check out his website Lost in Glass. The shop will soon be stocking Tara’s sister Donna’s beautiful ceramics.

Elsewhere on site, faced with what was a hideous concrete block wall, they commissioned local artist Jon Minshull to paint a huge mural of a Somerset landscape, featuring the Tor and an abundance of local wildlife. I’m blown away by it, it’s spectacular.

Jon also painted the mural on the wall of the Glastonbury Experience Courtyard alleyway, it features Tara’s sister’s naked bottom, painted slightly larger than life.

A Tranquil Retreat in Nature

Walking to the Tor from the Old Oaks

So who stays at the Old Oaks Touring Park? It’s popular with visitors who appreciate quiet, it’s part of ‘Tranquil Parks’, there are no big events, no screaming children and no big groups (as “even the Goddesses make loads of noise”). They don’t offer one night stays before or after Glastonbury festival, as before the event festival goers are hyped up and overexcited, while afterwards they are really just looking for somewhere to wash off the mud. As they explain “it’s not snobbery, it’s just business” they are giving their guests what they want – luxury facilities, glamping and peace and quiet in nature. They must be doing a lot right as they are the overall winners of the AA Campsite of the Year for England 2018 award.

Interior of an Old Oaks Shepherd’s Hut

The facilities are a far cry from my experience of campsites. The glamping options – shepherd’s huts, lodges and cabins, are quirky but luxurious, two even offer a tastefully screened wood-fired outdoor hot tub. The cedar lodges are beautiful and offer wonderful views, plus all that cedarwood smells amazing. For those whose accommodation doesn’t include fitted bathrooms, the park’s original shower block has been refurbished to create individual shower and changing rooms, so you won’t have an audience when you are hoiking your knickers up.

Unusually everything really is as immaculate as the photos in the brochure. I can’t imagine the amount of work that it takes to keep everything so spotlessly clean, tidy and well maintained, an army of elves with invisible brooms is the only logical explanation. Or it could be down to the hard work of the 6 wardens who work in pairs, the 3 cleaners and the apprentice gardener, altogether a staff of ten, plus James and Tara.

Doggie Shower

Tara tells me that the park is very popular with people who want to take their canine friends on holiday. It’s very dog-friendly, with a dog walking area and a fully featured, split level, dog shower, with doggie shampoo. Tara tells me they are getting a dog hairdryer next, I assumed she was joking, but then I saw all the other facilities and decided she probably wasn’t. I imagine a walk through affair, like the final stage of a drive-thru car wash, from which the pampered pooches will emerge with magnificent bouffants.

With the Somerset Levels on the doorstep, it’s an ideal spot for cycle touring. I’d cycled to the Park myself from Benedict Street. I’m not fit enough to tackle the most direct, but very hilly, route up Wellhouse and Stone Down Lanes, so I chose the cycle path along the bypass to West Mendip Hospital and then Brindham Lane and Wick Lane to the Old Oaks. I was surprised at how quick and easy this (virtually) flat route was. For walkers, there are the 15 acres of the park itself, the Tor and many walks into Glastonbury Town and across the Levels.

James and Tara doing the sort of camping they enjoy – at a festival

James and Tara tell me that they are the kind of people who would get into trouble if they were guests in their own park – they like camping with big groups of mates, drinking, partying and festivals. When they go to Glastonbury festival they take their caravan to stay with friends in a backstage camping area. But Tara says “It makes for an easier life when the customers aren’t running around drunk”

I ask them if they have any ‘Normal for Glastonbury’ stories where the peace and quiet were disrupted. James describes an incident with a young guy, probably on magic mushrooms, who alarmed the other campers by running around naked shouting “I am God” and “I’ve seen the light!”. A few years ago another young man, just wearing pants, emerged onto the park scratched and bleeding, having forced his way through the thorny hedgerow, he explained he was “following the leyline”. James remarks wryly “that’s worse than following a sat nav”.

James and his family clearly derive some dry amusement at the antics of some visitors. He tells me they once had a customer who checked out early “because the energy of the earth on the site was too strong”, Another wanted him to wash the pitch as “the previous campers had left negative energy”. James’s dad’s most oft-repeated comment on Glastonbury’s High Street is “We’ve got one butcher, one baker and ever so many candlestick makers”

Tara tells me they want to do something different, exceed expectations, make people go ‘Wow!’. She says “We’re constantly being complimented on our park, how can that not be a nice thing, knowing we’ve provided people with a really memorable holiday?”

If you provide a local service that might be of interest to the users of the park then do get in touch with Tara at tara.oldoaks@gmail.com, she’d love to hear from you.

If you are visiting the town and want a truly tranquil experience in nature then I’m sure you will be well looked after, if you are attending a retreat in the town Old Oaks Touring Park would be ideal. Those of us that live here might want to recommend the park to their visiting relatives who love nature but not mud, especially those who’d like to visit Glastonbury but might find some of the quirkier aspects of staying in the town a little alarming!

This post was kindly commissioned and sponsored by James and Tara White of Old Oaks Touring and Glamping Park, but the opinions are all mine! Would you like to commission me to write an article about what you do, for Normal For Glastonbury? You’d be reaching thousands of readers who love the Town. Please click here for more information. Would you like to write a piece for Normal For Glastonbury about your experience of the town? Please get in touch.

If you’ve enjoyed reading this blog please subscribe by email, ‘like’ the Normal for Glastonbury facebook page and contribute your own stories and comments, and share my blog and facebook posts (this is really important – it’s how I reach more readers!). See my ’Hire Me’ page if you’d like to pay me to help you with your own projects, you can also check out how to support this blog,

All photographs copyright Old Oaks Touring Park. Text copyright Vicki Steward.

  Old Oaks Touring and Glamping Park A Tranquil Oasis in the Heart of the Somerset Countryside. James and Tara White got in touch to ask me to write about  

[kidslovetoys]

Speech and language development in babies and toddlers

How do children learn to communicate? How does language happen and is it something that can be nurtured? Here, Emma Gouldbourn looks at the fascinating process of our children's language, from baby babble through to toddler talk.

Table of contents

Introduction

Baby babble

How to create a communication friendly space

How to encourage speech and language development

Toy and resource recommendations

Final word

Introduction

How does language happen? Spoken language is a natural process, and humans are hardwired to speak.  In the absence of a neurological or hearing impairment, all children have the capacity to learn to talk. But if a child does not talk by an 'expected' milestone or set age, how can we nurture the communication skills that are required for them to become an effective talker?

Baby babble

When do babies begin to babble? It depends. But one thing is for sure, there is no better sound than hearing your baby’s adorable first coo’ and babbles. I am the first to admit to shedding a tear when my baby first uttered ‘mama’, even if she was lovingly gazing at an empty kitchen roll tube at the time!

After a year of maternity leave which fell right during lock-down, I worried I had forgotten how to communicate using my ‘adult voice’. I had spent so much time talking to my little one in my high-pitched sing-song voice, I was a little worried I would never be able to hold an adult conversation again. But none of these efforts are in vain, as the most valuable tool to help your baby to communicate is you!

Your voice as you sing, your eye contact as you study one another’s face, the way you chatter out loud as you go about your day.  (Make the most of this precious time, it’s the time in your child’s life that they don’t attempt to answer back!) You can even begin to have first conversations by imitating your baby and letting them know that what they are trying to communicate is important to you. 

The age at which children learn to talk varies hugely, however if your child can say less than six words by around the 18-month mark, you could think about seeking advice from your Health Visitor or GP as earlier intervention is always beneficial. It could just be the case that your child isn’t quite there yet, but it’s always best to rule out hearing issues or developmental concerns if a delay in talking is combined with a lack of eye contact as this could be a sign of an autistic spectrum disorder. Talk to a health professional if you are at all worried.

Creating a communication-friendly space

Have you ever noticed how hard it is to have a proper conversation with someone  in a busy and noisy bar or restaurant?  You try your hardest to not only hear what the person you're trying to have a conversation with is saying, but also to not be distracted by the hustle and bustle of the room around you.  Now imagine the person you are speaking to is speaking a foreign language and you're trying in vain to listen and concentrate but nothing is making sense.  

For a child  in the early stages of speaking, the right environment can make a world of difference and a space which fosters calmness, aids concentration and promotes effective listening is key.  Nothing fancy is necessary, a cosy book corner with cushions and soft lighting or a homemade den with blankets and torches and your child’s favourite books, are simple yet effective ways of fostering speaking and listening skills amongst babies and young children.  My favourite thing in the world is to ‘have a conversation’ with my 14 month-old daughter.  She babbles, I listen, I babble back, she crawls off… you get the gist.

Encouraging speech and language development

Do you find yourself answering hundreds of ‘whys?’ as your child is quickly learning new words at a rapid pace?  Or perhaps your friend’s children are speaking in full sentences and you are beginning to add speech to your long list of things to worry about.

As with all things related to childhood and hitting milestones, it’s hard to not become drawn into making comparisons such as when your child ‘should’ be sitting up, crawling, walking and so on and talking is no exception.  But at what point does delayed speech become a concern and what can we do to help our budding chatterboxes?

There are various stages of language development and communication milestones include both receptive and expressive forms. Your child needs both to be able to hear and understand sounds and words and be able to articulate speech sounds and words.

'Typical’ milestones

Often babies speak their first words around 10-14 months of age, your child may use gestures alongside their initial words to ensure the meaning really comes across. Cue hilarious facial expressions and lots of pointing.

By around 15 months of age your baby is likely to enjoy joining in with action songs and even perhaps pointing out parts of their body. Think heads, shoulders knees and toes on repeat!

Somewhere between 12-18 months naming familiar objects and particularly things that they are interested in.

Somewhere in the region of being able to say 10 words or so usually happens by around 18 months of age.

18 months onwards their understanding will develop rapidly and they should be able to follow simple instructions that involve key words such as ‘give me the teddy and brush’. Instructions such as ‘come here’ can usually be understood from this point on too.  This is when the fun starts and they start to answer with one of their favourite words - ‘NO!’

What you can do to help

Take turns in games

Learn new words

Learn the names for categories such as toys, food, animals, clothes

Have fun playing with dolls and teddies and ask questions when looking through books together, such as – ‘where is the cow?’ ‘Where is the teddy?’

A helping hand

Some children may need a little nudge to help grasp the complexities involved in learning to communicate and talk.   When playing with your child try the OWL method: Observe, Wait, Listen.  Face to face play and interaction is key and even though spoken language may not be happening yet, communication in other ways such as eye contact and facial expressions are just as important to respond to.

What is the OWL method?

Observe what your child is doing and what they are interested in, and then when asking them a question or making a comment, wait, wait and wait some more – some children need a minimum of 10 seconds to be able to compile an answer. Just because they haven’t responded immediately doesn’t mean they are not working hard to come up with a verbal or non-verbal response. Actively LISTEN, it is impossible to actually listen to your child if the adult is doing all the talking.  Reducing your language and waiting is key.

A great way to keep a conversation with a child going is to give them choices, so instead of asking ‘do you want a drink?’, try asking ‘would you like milk or water?’  If they do not know the word for either yet but they gesture towards one or the other, then give them the name e.g. – ‘oh you would like water, great!’  Another way to extend conversations is instead of relying on the asking of questions such as ‘what is that?’ try commenting ‘wow, that’s a tall tower!’

Learning verbs and helping your child to use them

Using single words such as ‘washing’, ‘eating’, ‘drinking’, alongside a toy such as a teddy or a doll is a simple yet effective way of helping them learn verbs. Then, move on to using the doll alongside another object and build in using short sentences such as ‘dolly is eating’.  Extend the sentence further – ‘dolly is eating an orange’.

Try making the toy carry out different actions, (model the action first – e.g. demonstrate what jumping is, or role play that you are sleeping) for example – ‘dolly is sleeping’, ‘dolly is drinking’, ‘dolly is jumping’. Have fun with it and really make the important action words stand out.  Speak slowly and clearly and allow your child time to understand what you are saying and time to respond.

Toys and resources

For babies:

Books

Balls

Simple puzzles

Play games such as ‘peek a boo’

Sing, sing and more singing!

Real life objects

Reciprocal play [LINK] such as something simple like rolling a ball to each other teaches your child how to take turns.  Turn taking is definitely a learnt skill and even though it seems so simple the benefits of eye contact, building relationships, waiting for their turn all builds the foundations to taking turns in conversations too!

Words – although it may feel strange at first, try narrating your day as you go about your business, from choosing groceries at the supermarket, to pointing out things you can see when out and about walking.  I like to maximise time spent in parent facing prams so that you can maintain eye contact, whilst at the same time chattering on and pointing out what you can see.

Books are often an obvious choice but ensure you choose simple books with clear images on each page, babies struggle to filter out too many visual (and auditory – turn the tv off!) distractions and this can inhibit language learning.  Pictures on a plain background are best and if they can closely represent real life images – even better!

For toddlers

Teddies

Dolls

Vehicles

Animals

Playing with dolls has so many benefits, children need to hear words over and over again and rather than being prescriptive make it fun by encouraging them to play whilst helping their language at the same time.  By making the doll the focus of the activity this takes any pressure off your child when teaching verbs and action words.

Simple, friendly dolls without too much gender stereotyping are the best way to go at this age.

For pre-schoolers

Doll's house

Kitchen and play food

Puppets

Small world

Imaginatie play is really coming into its own at this stage, and small world play can be a fantastic way of encouraging speech development.  Playing with characters, animals and vehicles gives children the opportunity to act out experiences, and an on-hand adult, friend or sibling can be the perfect ‘teacher’ to help them with their ever-growing language skills.

Final word

There is huge variation in when children start to talk. If you have concerns then seek professional advice but do bear in mind there are many possible explanations for late talking.  For some it may just be a stage they are at or for others it could be an expressive language disorder or a speech disorder.  All children learn at different rates and this is what makes them so wonderfully unique!

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