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oneunexpected · 4 years

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I love Free Day because it means I can do Whatever I Want and I get to rb it to tucweek along with the incredible art pieces and insightful analysis other people have made and mine’s just, like, TUC as vines.

Anyway. Here’s the definitive power ranking of all minor characters* in the Underland Chronicles. It's quite long, because I tried to use every character.

Icarus -this DUUUUDE. This GUYYYYY. SUCKS! -“uh-oh looks like I’m infected with the plague better fly directly into a social gathering” -would be an anti-masker probably 0/10

Reekwell and Gushgore -Fangor and Shed part two, but unfunny this time. 1/10 y’all suck give me Fangor and Shed back

Purvox -Purvox is apparently a beautiful red spider who teaches Hazard how to “speak” Spinner. That’s cool. -that’s it. Why did Suzanne even feel the need to name her? I’m grateful for the extra details but 2/10

Ajax -mean. -nobody likes him -this is probably why he gets on so well with Solovet -some sort of flier general, it seems, which is pretty cool 2/10

Hero & Kent -twins, I guess that’s fun -they’re only like eight but they still Smirk Evilly. Good for them 2/10 just because there’s 2 of them

Anchel & Daphne -some randos Keeda mentions as dead. They probably had some sort of significance to be mentioned by name but We’ll Never Know. 2/10 RIP though. I’m sure you’re worth higher than this but I don’t even know who you are

Horatio -crony #1 -has a crush on Dulcet. Didn’t we all 3.5/10. Boosted solely by association with Dulcet

Marcus -crony #2 3/10

Wevox -thought her name was Weavox until I began writing this post -sort of “Was Margaret Thatcher a Girlboss?” vibes -“As it is, Vikus, we will not drink. Web them” is a RAW line and it bounces around my head sometimes -the spiders are clearly very crafty about their political relations but she was not going to hesitate for a MOMENT to consider the ramifications of killing the monarch of Regalia and we gotta respect that -docking points for the girlboss thing, though. 4/10

Stellovet -queen of insults you gotta be honest -had an INCREDIBLE amount of impact for only having like three lines. I remember being like 11 and reading so many fics on Fan Fiction Dot Net where she was a scheming villain -funny how Luxa thinks her endgame is just becoming a princess. She doesn’t care beyond that she just wants to be royalty 4/10

Chim -baby -ok she’s 5 -doesn’t do anything but look confused and help provide a gateway for Howard to look like a good person 5/10, for years of life. What’s even your name? Chimney?

Andromeda -she’s good. She is an Absolute Beast when she crosses the Waterway with Howard and Mareth, definitely saved Mareth’s life -loves Mareth very much :) -shuns Ares at first but comes around, we still gotta knock her for this though 5/10

Clawsin & Bloodlet & Ratriff -Some folks who go to Ripred’s side, Clawsin gets blinded from the Bane, Ratriff gets his arm ripped off by the Bane, it is what it is 5/10 collectively

Reflex -man’s got jokes -very helpful with the code -shoots streamers of silk around the room when they break it -came to Regalia secretly... secretly to whom? The spinners? The gnawers? Whatever, he’s a rebel either way -I had to look up his name though, so apparently not a lot of impact. Sorry Reflex 5/10

Treflex -announced he was joining the quest, then IMMEDIATELY died. Yes king give us nothing -made a good snack? Gross. 5/10

Cevian -the scene where they find her body is beautifully written and so heartbreaking. She’s the catalyst for the entire fourth book -gives Aurora the opportunity to make her first ever big impassioned speech. It’s what Aurora deserved -still, she doesn’t get any dialogue so I can’t vote her super high 5/10

Euripides -seems nice -always described as “Vikus’ big grey bat,” never just big bat, never just grey bat -tells Luxa to teach Gregor how to ride a bat because his neck is getting bruised lol -nice of him not to embarrass Gregor though 6/10 speak up for yourself, king

Pend -takes Boots back to Regalia after the moth brings her to the crawlers’ land -Vikus recognizes him by name which is really impressive since crawlers look pretty homogenous, although we are told Vikus is better than most at picking them out. Still, Pend is probably a high rolling crawler. 6/10

The scorpions -I know I’m supposed to be doing named characters but they’re pretty cool. The passage they’re in is a really fun read. Mad respect 6/10 I’ll see y’all in Scorpio szn, baby

Razor -showed SHAME and GUILT in the first book when he got called out by Ripred -raised Pearlpelt as if he was his own. In payment, Pearlpelt knocked him off a cliff and then tried to eat him to hide the evidence 6/10

Fangor and Shed -funny dudes. -apparently constantly drunk 6/10

Gox -Gox got shit DONE, okay? Gox got shit DONE. -would eat your carcass without a moment of hesitation. It’s fine. 6/10

Hermes -this guy is great! -brings Luxa her crown -gets seriously injured while protecting Lizzie on their way to Regalia -might be dead tbh no one ever says 7/10

Keeda -okay listen. Keeda’s great. Keeda is that warrior at the Battle of Marathon who ran all the way back to Athens to report their victory and immediately die, except Keeda was reporting that the gnawers were about to invade -listen I know she was dealing with some other stuff, but Vikus asks, “how many rats?” And she says “many. Many rats” ??? No estimate? “An army?” Whatever. We give her a pass. 7/10 RIP

Pandora -FUCK -her death was possibly the MOST disturbing passage I’ve ever read. I could see it so, so vividly in my head. Man I remember the horror -she just wanted to explore 7/10 but also 2/10 for emotional trauma

Queen Athena -ICONIC one-liner in Curse of the Warmbloods, absolutely demolishes the gnawers over their treatment of the nibblers -I’m really biased towards her because Athena is my favorite goddess -probably could’ve done more for Ares, especially as seeing she’s supposed to be perceptive and a really good judge of character and whatnot 7/10

Daedalus -flinches in fear when Boots says she’s gonna sing a for him, specifically -basically pledges his life to Lizzie in the event the Code Room is attacked so that’s very nice 7/10

Heronian -she’s in a full body cast, but that will not stop her. 8/10

Susannah -can we talk about how she lost both of her siblings and she just keeps trucking along? -REALLY wish we knew more about her -clearly Very Kind. Can you please ask your daughter to be nicer -takes really good care of everyone she comes across :) 8/10

Min -creaky old cockroach dance 9/10

Frill -was cool -taught everyone the marks of secret -taught Hamnet about pacifism and stuff too -I get the feeling she was wayyyyy more important to Hazard and Hamnet and their survival than Gregor’s narrative really dives into 9/10

Mr. Cormaci -nice man. Gave Gregor quarters. 10/10

Gregor’s grandma -cool lady, you can’t deny! -tells Gregor he can’t outrun his issues -has a super cool quilt -who IS Simon??? 10/10

Scalene, Euclidian, Root, Cube, and Newton -felt obligated to include all these kiddos because they are, in fact, named, even though none of them get any dialogue or anything else for that matter, really -Scalene was a little nibbler pup that found her mom in the Arena, Euclidian and Root are two more that the mom was looking for, Newton was one that no one claimed but some other guy was like “any of us will take him” which is :’) but also, so, so sad. -Cube was the pup Luxa named that ended up in the pit in the Firelands -Scalene and Newton survived a genocide and Euclidian which is baller any way you swing it 10/10

Tick -:( :( :( -the selflessness. -I shipped her with Temp when I was 8? I can’t answer for that 10/10

York -LMAOOOO this guy’s a LEGEND -7 ft tall. -fights with a zweihander. -says fuck, canonically. -hosts hundreds of nibbler refugees -very loving uncle to Luxa, helps her learn how to rule - his exasperated affection towards Howard when he finds out Howard stayed in the Firelands even after he got sick was very cute 10/10

Honorable mentions: Perdita and Dulcet Their roles are too big in the last book to be included in this list, but these ladies both get a 10/10.

#ucfw

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archadianskies · 5 years

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the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

@dbhrarepairs Sunday Day 7: Free Day; Fantasy + Supernatural; RK900/Simon

It is an unspoken rule: you are safe in Jericho. There are no ranks, no royalty, and certainly no witch hunters. Simon’s worked hard to keep it this way for five years now and strives to ensure it will stay as such in the years to come. It is, by all accounts, but a humble bakery in a bustling integrated town and it’s not the biggest nor the fanciest, not by far. But for Simon it’s home. Literally. He and his twin brother Daniel live upstairs.

Jericho’s reputation means it has its fair share of interesting patrons, most of whom Simon has eventually befriended. Most notable are those from the castle: Royal Scholar Joshua, Royal Protector North, and the princes themselves; Prince Leopold and Prince Markus. Not that Simon ever set out to sell to castlefolk but apparently no one makes berry loaves quite like he does or so Prince Markus says- something something his magic imbues baked goods with emotional properties.

The Autumn Harvest Festival is soon to be upon them and Simon is kept busy, so busy he’s enlisted the help of fellow baker Kara and her little daughter Alice. She even manages to ensnare her towering husband Luther to help by heaving sacks of flour freshly packed at the mill and bring them to the bakery. King Carl will throw a grand celebration that will last all week, and the town will near triple in size as visitors flock in from out of town. It’s exhausting work but incredible money and Simon knows he can’t pass it up. He’ll spend the next week deep in preparation.

It’s one sunny afternoon, tempered by a breeze carrying the chilling promise of winter, that a new customer wanders into Jericho. It’s too early to be tourists and it’s too late to be a regular patron.

“Hello, welcome to Jericho.” Simon greets the older, greying man. He has tired warm eyes, his face weathered by time but also slashed with curious scars. “What can I get for you sir?”

“I uh, I’m new here. Me an’ my boys just moved in, just outside of town by the forest.”

“Oh! You bought the hunter’s cottage.” Simon smiles warmly. “I’m glad. It’d been empty for so long now and it’s at such a lovely location.”

“Heard a lot about this place.” He mumbles gruffly, scratching his nape. “My sons, they’re…different. ‘Specially the younger one. I just wanted to suss this place out before bringin’ ‘em in.”

“They’re safe here at Jericho. No judgement, no hunters.” Simon vows solemnly. “They can eat here and my brother is a potions master so they’ll have plenty to drink of whatever their heart needs.”

“Hank Anderson.” The man introduces himself, and when Simon shakes his calloused hand he sees ropey scars all over it too.

“Simon Lambert.”

“I know I’m a bit late for the morning loaves but you got anything heartier? Meatier?” Hank looks around, curiously inspecting this and that.

“I still have a beef steak and peppercorn pie, how does that sound?” Simon offers, and Hank breaks into a grin.

“Sounds perfect.”

*~*~*

North perches up on the counter, plucking a blueberry tart and dropping a couple of coins into the till. “Saw that the hunter’s lodge was bought last week.” Her speech is muffled by her chewing. “A family?”

“Yes, a father and his sons.” Simon sighs and sweeps a few crumbs off the counter, trying to shoo her off to no avail. “I met him the other day, he seems nice. Curiously covered in scars though.”

“A soldier? A knight?” North guesses, expression piqued with interest. “Another hunter?”

“I don’t ask questions here.” Simon reminds her lightly, pouring her a glass of chipper tonic to boost her afternoon mood. “I hope to meet his sons soon. Maybe Alice will have a playmate, the dear girl’s been so lonely.”

“Hey, you got any of the cinnamon scrolls left?” She nearly tips over the counter in her attempt to peek behind, and Simon lunges to steady her.

“North!”

“Well do ya?” She grins at him, puffing a lock of hair from her face. Her magic emanates from her, an aura like wildfire, and sets her brown eyes ablaze. He rolls his eyes.

“I do. Two to go like usual?”

“Yeah if I don’t feed Josh he’ll just work til he passes out. Or try and eat his books, I dunno.” She drops more coins into the till as Simon carefully places the sticky scrolls in wax paper. “Tell me about the new family when you meet them, okay? I’m pretty curious. And y’know, doin’ my job. If he’s some shady guy then the Fam needs to know.”

“Will do.” He promises, handing her the scrolls and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Take care and say hello to Josh for me.”

*~*~*

When Hank visits the next day, there’s a huge dog at his side. It’s easily the size of Alice, and should it stand on its hind legs Simon knows it would probably see eye to eye with Luther himself. The bakery isn’t too full, but it isn’t empty either and the customers eye the canine warily. “This is err, this is Connor.” Hank gestures at the canine who immediately sits and offers what Simon thinks is a rather cute doggy smile.

“Can I pat him? PLEASE?” Alice pipes up, peeking from behind Simon. “He looks SO fluffy!”

“He is fluffy, little Miss.” Hank chuckles. “Go right ahead.”

Alice darts out from behind him and rushes to the dog, immediately sinking her hands into his fur. “Hiiiiii Connor! I’m Alice!” Connor responds by flopping down and rolling over, showing his belly as his tail swishes side to side happily.

“You know,” Simon comes around to stand beside Hank, arms crossed, “I thought you said you were going to bring your sons here. There was no mention of a very large but very cute dog. What breed is he? Goodness he seems like a hunting mastiff and wolf hybrid.”

“...We’ll go with that, yeah. I never really did know.” Hank shrugs, grin a little self-conscious. “I didn’t raise ‘em, I sorta...just...took them in. They needed a home and someone to care for them.”

“Them?” Simon echoes, brows raised. “There’s another?”

“Uh yeah, there’s two of ‘em. This one is Connor, the other is Ronan. He’s not too good with people yet he’s sorta jus’ hiding until he gets used to this new place.”

“Two sons and two dogs, goodness me.” Simon laughs. “Well, feel free to take a seat and choose something to eat. I’ll pour you some of Danny’s restful tea.”

He loses himself to the humdrum of work, occasionally glancing over to where Hank is sitting on a bench by the window, his dog becoming a bed for Alice as she naps then and there atop his fluffy fur. It’s a steady trickle of customers, and plenty of soft amused smiles are coaxed from them when they see the little girl and the very large dog. The afternoon passes by, mellow and golden like time trapped in honey, and all too soon he’s counting the coins in the till and Kara is sweeping the floor.

“Ah shit, I’m so sorry I guess I dozed off.” Hank chuckles, smile sheepish as he scratches his nape and stifles a yawn. “Guess that tea worked, huh?”

“I’m glad it did.” Simon smiles, bending to run his hand through Connor’s fur now he’s no longer handling foods. “You’ve been so well behaved, Connor, what a good boy.” He tweaks the tip of his ear playfully and the dog chuffs in response, squirming and wriggling until its sitting upright at attention.

“Connor! I got you a snack!” Alice’s voice calls out sweetly, and she hurries from the kitchens holding a tray of meat scraps left from the beef pies. All too late does Simon see the knife teetering on the tray, and how Alice’s foot catches on the broom as Kara sweeps.

“Alice-!”

There’s a blur, something dark and fast, inhumanely fast knocking Simon over and lunging for Alice and when Simon’s senses catch up to him, there’s a very naked young man holding her with one arm, and holding the knife in his other hand.

“Connor!” Hank nearly upends the table in his rush to cross the distance, and the very naked young man seems to belatedly notice he’s caught the knife blade-side in his hand. There’s blood running in rivulets from his grasp, there’s meat scraps all over the floor, and there’s a distressed girl in his hold who suddenly bursts into tears.

“Alice! Oh Alice!” Kara retrieves her daughter, and Simon still isn’t sure what is happening is actually happening.

“...Your dog is your son.” Simon manages at last. Hank’s shrugging out of his coat and wrapping it around the very naked young man.

“...Err, yeah.”

“...I’ll get some bandages and salve.” He declares, and just leaves for upstairs.

With Kara and Alice sent home, Simon closes the bakery more for his own sanity than to keep it from prying eyes. He just needs time to process this, that’s all. He’s a witch, Jericho has always been a safe haven for witches whose magic had been exploited by the humans for a decade before King Carl’s adopted witch son fought hard for the right to be equal. Jericho has seen all sorts of magic users, even those with daemons, but this? This is magic he’s never encountered before.

When the initial shock has faded, and Connor’s in a set of Danny’s clothes with his palm tended to and healed, Simon decides the right thing to do is pack some leftover meat pie and walk the Andersons back to their cottage and hear them out. There is no judgement in Jericho, afterall, and Simon likes to learn about his patrons.

“I uhh,” Hank sighs, scratching his beard and looking over at Connor. “I used to live in the neighbouring kingdom. My son Cole and I got into a nasty carriage accident in winter. He’d just turned six, love and light of my life. I rushed him to the closest healer but he’d been out with his friends, using red ice crystals.”

Simon winced. Red ice was a byproduct of common potion-making; red quartz that had its power depleted, but when heated by regular human flame and inhaled, could give the human user intense and vivid highs using the distorted remnants of magic. As much as the King tried to control it, especially since his own flesh and blood son was addicted to it, it’s still rampant in the kingdom. Simon remembers that well, and he also remembers befriending Prince Leo and listening to his sorrows and letting him weep and rage and just be. He recalls the withdrawals but he also recalls the bud of hope blossoming into friendship, friendship between a witch and a human. Red ice destroyed lives, but only if people failed to nurture those under its power.

“There was a witch who came to my aid and though they tried their best, worked for hours trying to heal Cole, he passed away.” There’s great sorrow there, a gaping chasm of grief Simon cannot ever comprehend. He reaches out and gently squeezes Hank’s shoulder.

“And then Hank found my brother and I.” Connor pipes up with a small smile. “We were being trained to become attack dogs by witch hunters.” The smile vanishes. “It was...a very cold, cruel upbringing. I was given to Hank as a trial to see if I could be weaponised by humans.”

“Didn’t sit right with me, seeing someone reduced to a dog meant to just obey without question.” Hank says gruffly, shaking his head. “I could see he was something more. When Ronan came along I just knew I had to give them a better chance.”

“It took us a while to find ourselves.” Connor confesses, his smile returning though it’s tinged with sadness. “We were mindless attack dogs for a while still, until we could break out of our conditioning.”

“And you’re more human than some sorry sods I’ve dealt with.” Hank grumbles, eliciting a laugh from Connor.

“Oh! I-” He smiles brightly, not bothering to finish his sentence before he breaks into a run and starts to strip off his borrowed clothes, near tripping flat on his face when he shucks off the boots. Connor leaps forward fluidly and then there’s the large brown shaggy wolf bounding ahead, playfully tackling an even larger, even darker wolf. The two roughhouse enthusiastically, oblivious to the way Hank rolls his eyes as he and Simon make their way down the path to the cottage, the abandoned clothes draped over Hank’s arm. When they’re close enough, the darker wolf sits bolts upright, Connor still pinned under him. He sniffs the air and then focuses his startling grey eyes on Simon.

“Ronan, this is Simon.” Hank says slowly, grasping Simon’s elbow to stop him. A sliver of fear pinches Simon’s spine as he realises his muzzle is stained with blood. Connor wriggles beneath him, managing to butt his brother on the underside of his jaw with his head. It breaks Ronan’s stare, and he nips at Connor to chide him. Hank’s grip on Simon’s elbow is strong, and he guides him forward very slowly. Ronan snaps to attention again, eyes locked on him. Simon takes a deep breath, uncovering the pie and holding it out.

“I’m the baker at Jericho.” A pause, voice soft. “And I’m a witch. I thought I’d come introduce myself, since I met your father and your brother earlier today.”

“You’ve been hunting, haven’t you boy?” Hank’s voice turns warm and fond, and he steps ahead of Simon to reach out and gently muss the fur between Ronan’s ears. The wolf noses his cheek affectionately, chuffing in reply. “Yeah you stink of raw meat. Did you leave some for your brother? Of course you did, I know you did.” He laughs as Ronan presses his nose to his neck before resting his large head on Hank’s shoulder. “Alright alright, round the back and wash up. Simon’s come all the way from town with a very nice pie for us.”

Where Connor is all warm browns and soft friendly smiles, Ronan is cold greys and reserved observations. He is, as Hank noted, wary and sussing things out. They share the pie, and they converse, with Ronan making the occasional comment. Simon keeps the conversation honest and light, giving as much as Hank had given. He talks about a loving family before their magic manifested and being turned out on the streets and becoming a kitchenhand. Of learning how his emotions could be infused into foods made with his own hands, of how Danny could do the same with liquids. Nights spent feeding each other hopes and dreams and comfort. Ronan watches him with interest, brows creased. To steer the conversation away from darker thoughts he tells them about all the early mistakes, how Danny had forgotten to feed the yeast so the dough didn’t rise enough and when Simon baked it it tasted of bitter annoyance. They all share a laugh, and Simon notes with amusement the Anderson brothers tip their head back to laugh just like their father only their teeth are far more sharp.

“Ah it’s late, I must head home. There’s dough to prepare before bed.” Simon stands to excuse himself, and Ronan stands immediately after.

“I’ll walk you home.” He falters a little when they all blink at him in surprise. “It’s dark, and the roads are dangerous at night.”

“Well.” Simon smiles. “I guess I’ll be the safest traveler in the kingdom tonight.”

It’s true. There certainly can’t be any traveler safer than he, not with a giant wolf padding by his side. Ronan is hyper alert, sniffing the air and looking this way and that, striding just a little ahead of Simon to scout the area. Where Connor can vaguely pass off as a large crossbreed, there’s no mistaking Ronan and his hulking form. They aren’t affected by the moon as told by those old tales, no their form is more akin to putting on another set of clothes, Connor had told him. It’s simply another way to be.

When they reach the town gates, Simon turns to his personal guard with a smile.

“Thank you for being such a gentleman, Ronan, I do appreciate it.” He reaches out without thinking, surprising the both of them when he gently pats his head. “I hope you visit Jericho soon.”

He visits him the very next day, in fact. Even as a human, he’s taller than most and cuts an imposing, intimidating figure. Ronan enters the bakery hesitantly, still unsure, still trying to find his feet amongst humans. A pair of young women dart him glances and smiles, giggling to themselves and whispering furiously as their cheeks pink with blush. Simon agrees that yes, Ronan is rather handsome, though he’ll never say it aloud.

“Hello Ronan.” He greets with a bright smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“I...wanted to see you. And Jericho.” He adds almost as an afterthought, and Simon ducks his head with a laugh.

“And here you are.” He gestures at one of the empty tables. “Take a seat, I'll bring you something to eat and drink.”

There’s a lull in customers so Simon takes a seat opposite Ronan, cup of tea in hand.

“You mention your brother working here but I haven’t seen him.” Ronan comments, looking around.

“Danny works for one of the court officials most of the week, so he just prepares the brews on the weekends.” Simon explains, taking a sip of his favourite warm and calming tea. “Most people come here to buy breads and don’t tend to stay and eat so it’s not like we really ever run out.”

“So it’s mostly you?”

“Yes. I love it here.” Simon smiles. “It’s my own little place. It brings me joy when people enjoy my food and that in turn helps me make more food for them to enjoy.”

*~*~*

It becomes a routine, having at least one Anderson, if not all three, visit him at least every second day. Simon ends up setting a large meat pie aside every time, so he can drop by after closing and off them the ‘leftover’, and once the pie is eaten Ronan will walk him home. He takes great comfort in his company, the large hulking wolf a warm presence at his side and Simon does indeed feel much safer even if Danny complains of him reeking of dog. With the festival drawing ever closer, Hank and Connor are employed by the guards as part of extra security measures meaning Ronan is often the only one at home after Simon finishes closing the bakery. Not that he minds, since little by little Ronan’s opening up to him and the conversation flows easier, is less stilted and hesitant. He finds himself looking forward to their time together, and revels in each little personal victory whenever he manages to coax a smile or an ever elusive laugh from the other man.

He sends Kara and Alice home just as the sun dips below the horizon. The festival is in two days time and at the end of each day the bakery is completely empty of goods as people stock up. It’s a good feeling, a feeling of pride and accomplishment that also translates into flavourful, rich foods with every new batch Simon makes. The regulars know that the sweetest, happiest pastries must be bought just before the festival when Simon’s riding the giddy feeling of anticipation and excitement. He can’t fault them; it’s true, after all. He makes sure to set aside a whole basket of goods for the royal family, and this time he also sets side a richly stewed mushroom and beef pie with spices baked into the crust for the Andersons. The bell above the door tinkles, and heavy footsteps plod into the bakery.

“I’m sorry but we’re closed!” Simon calls out, wandering back from the storage room. There’s a gang of broad muscular men led by a severe looking man in black robes.

“Oh we know.” He smirks, and his eyes are cold as ice. “So this is Jericho, hm? A filthy little rats nest for all the rats to scurry to.”

“Everyone is welcome here in Jericho,” Simon says firmly. “Even witch hunters. So long as you leave your prejudices at the door.”

They laugh at that, and the leader steps closer and closer to Simon. “You think you’re safe here? That just because you’ve made fancy rules we’re supposed to obey them? Your kind are meant to serve us.”

“And this bakery does indeed serve bread to humans.” Simon points out lightly with a faint smile. “As it does to witches.”

“Not anymore.” The man snarls and backhands Simon before grabbing him by the throat. “Just because the King adopted a filthy witch doesn’t make it all better. Your kind will never be equal to us.”

He claws at the man’s hand, trying to gasp for air. His henchmen laugh and begin to smash the chairs against the tables, against the shelves, against the windows. Simon manages to kick his assailant square in the chest, causing him to stumble back and let him go. It only enrages him further and Simon’s vision bursts into stars as the man punches him to the ground. A boot plants itself on his head, pressing him down onto the floor and Simon watches helplessly as the men ransack his beloved bakery and ruin the next day’s preparations. He thanks the Fates he locked the storage before stepping out, and that he’d sent Kara and Alice home already.

“Captain Perkins! We have to go!” One of the men shout, and there’s a commotion as they all rush to leave. Captain Perkins stares down at Simon like he’s stepped in filth, sneering at him before pulling his foot back and kicking him in the stomach.

“This isn’t over yet, vermin.”

It’s fine. It’s alright. No one else got hurt. The gift basket for the royal family is safe and sound, and for all the destruction the men didn’t even think to steal the money from the till. Though Simon supposes this wasn’t for monetary gain at all. He sits up gingerly and then properly vomits red, his head spinning and his stomach sore. His vision still pulses with lights, his jaw aches and his limbs don’t want to listen to him. It takes him four tries to get to his feet, and he only succeeds because he scoots ever so slowly over to the counter. His palms are shredded from the broken glass but he’s upright now, and somehow, somehow all he can think of is that he’s late and Ronan will be waiting. So he gathers his travelling cloak, places the pie very carefully into a basket, and leaves through the back door.

It’s fine, everything is fine and Simon’s not sure if it’s magic or just his own stubbornness that takes what just happened and locks it in a box, throws away the key, and buries it in a grave. He has a cemetery for events like these, like his parents throwing him out with Danny when their powers manifested, like being chased from their town, like the time Danny got sick with fever and almost died and said the most horrible things to try and get him to leave so he wouldn’t fall ill too. It’s fine. It’s gone.

A big dark wolf bounds out from the forest behind the hunter’s cottage, its gait springy and joyful before it turns into an urgent run as Simon limps down the path. He clumsily tugs at his travelling cloak as Ronan shivers back upright, his face a mask of horror as Simon hands him his cloak so he isn’t standing there naked.

“Simon-!”

“Ronan it’s cold, wear this.”

“You’re bleeding, you’re-!” He pulls him into his arms suddenly, sniffing and nosing him and Simon tries to batt him away in surprise.

“You smell like a hunter. A witch hunter-” Ronan decides whole sentences are too much for the moment and simply scoops Simon up into his arms and rushes him inside, ignoring his protests. He sets him down on a chair in the kitchen. “Wait, I’ll get Hank’s healing kit.”

Simon feels a little embarrassed. He’s fine after all. Oh and the pie is fine, he discovers triumphantly as he places the basket on the table and unearths the lovely creation still wrapped in a tea towel. Just needs a bit of time in the oven, and it’ll be ready for dinner.

“Simon what happened?” Ronan demands, reappearing with a small chest in his hands and proper clothes on his body. “You reek of witch hunters and blood and- and- something else. Something familiar but I can’t place it.”

The chest is placed on the table, Ronan glancing at the pie briefly before he opens the kit and fishes out a small bottle and some gauze. Gently, ever so gently, he daubs tonic on Simon’s injuries.

“Simon? Please talk to me.” There’s a plea in his tone, panic in those stormy grey eyes that Simon’s always fancied were beautiful.

“Oh um,” his tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth like he’s stuffed it full of flour. “Um. A band of witch hunters ransacked Jericho and destroyed all my furniture and they ruined my festival preparations but it’s ok I saved your dinner.”

There’s a moment, a pause, a long drawn out pause as Ronan looks at him in utter horror.

“What?”

“Oh and the gift basket I prepared for the Manfreds, that’s alright too. And the till. They didn’t take any money and no one was hurt so it’s okay. It’s fine.”

“You were hurt, Simon!” Ronan near shouts at him, panic leaking into his voice. “They hurt you!”

“I’m okay. I sent Kara and Alice home before they arrived. A shame about the bakery though, they really did just...break...everything…” It takes him far too long to realise he’s crying, that tears are running down his cheeks and he’s gasping for breath and his stomach still feels tight and raw. “They destroyed everything and I won’t have anything ready for the festival and we really needed the money, I was going to buy Danny a new cloak and a pretty bonnet for Alice’s birthday and-” He’s sobbing now, and the physical pain somehow feels right, too, a rightful mixture of heartache and a stomach ache and a jaw ache and a headache. Ronan’s still looking at him in horror, and then he’s leaning forward and wrapping Simon up in his arms and Simon nearly howls with sorrow as he cries and cries and cries.

He’s not sure how much time passes but the door is kicked open and Connor leaps through in his wolf form before scrambling back into a more humanoid form. His teeth are still wrong, his ears still a little pointed and tufty. “I smelled blood! I smelled witch hunters! Simon what happened?!”

“That’s exactly what happened.” Ronan snaps, though the anger isn’t directed at Connor at all. Simon manages some sort of noise, a confirmation of sorts as he clings to Ronan, cheek mushed on his shoulder. He’s tired but he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Hank huffs and puffs into the cottage a short while after, throwing Connor’s clothes to the side the moment he sees Simon’s sorry self.

“Shit, Simon! What the fuck happened?!”

“Captain Perkins.” Simon recalls belatedly. “The witch hunters- one of them called the leader Captain Perkins.”

Connor and Ronan freeze, eyes wide.

“Perkins oh that sick motherfucker.” Hank curses, rage in his eyes. “He did this to you?”

“He destroyed Jericho too.” Ronan adds curtly, lips pulled back in a snarl. “And he made sure to do it a day before the Festival.”

“Um, I did manage to save dinner though?” Simon gestures at the pie.

“...Simon, that’s-”

“Very kind of you.” Connor says gently. “I’ll get the oven going. Dad, can you make tea?”

“Err, right. Yeah. I can make tea.”

“It’s best if you get out of these clothes and into some clean ones.” Ronan helps him up and Simon’s legs are as wobbly as a newborn foal. Spots wink in and out of his vision and he winces, clinging to Ronan tightly. “It’s ok, I’ve got you. I’ve got you Simon.”

They have pie while he wears Ronan’s clothes and they sip tea Hank made and all the while Connor and Ronan exchange venomous glances, seemingly having an entire conversation without words. Or maybe they did use words. Simon really can’t concentrate. He’s given something purple to drink and very gently guided to a large bed and heavy quilts are tucked over him and he thinks someone brushes his hair back from his face and kisses his temple but he’s not sure if that really happened or just something he wishes happened to him. Simon sleeps and he doesn’t dream of anything.

When he wakes it’s late, far too late for baking loaves and pastries, and it should horrify him but if there’s no functioning bakery then it’s really not a problem is it? There’s a bowl of fruits and a glass of juice on the bedside table along with a note telling him to stay here and rest. Alright. He can do that. What else is there to do, anyway? He nibbles on blueberries and some apple slices, drinks the glass of sweet peach juice and then slumps back under the quilts. He sleeps and dreams of picnicking under starlight with a large dark wolf curled at his side.

When he wakes again it’s late, so late the sun is long gone below the horizon and the nightly chill has filled the house. A wolf’s howl breaks through the quiet, joined by another a moment later. Simon smiles sleepily, testing his feet on the floorboards and finding being upright agrees with him again. Snagging his cloak from the stand, he wraps it around himself before stepping outside. He can see Connor and Ronan in the distance, heads tipped back as they howl in harmony. They turn to look at him, their movement as one, before Connor breaks away and runs back into the forest. Ronan remains still, unmoving, like a statue carved of granite. Simon sighs. He has to do all the work around here apparently. Closing the distance between them, Simon realises he may not have the nose of a wolf but Ronan reeks of blood. When he’s close enough, he can see the wolf stained in red, not just on the muzzle but all over his entire body as if he’s soaked himself in it. Which he has, probably, and a hysterical little giggle escapes Simon when he realises this is the fate of Captain Perkins.

“I see you and your brother went hunting tonight.” Simon reaches out slowly and runs his hand along the side of his muzzle, the fur wet and sticky with fresh blood. “Tasty?” The wolf pulls back its lips in a snarl of disgust, huffing his disagreement and Simon laughs. “No, witch-hunters probably taste foul. All that hate in their veins rotting them away. Best you didn’t feast on them.” He’s trembling- from fear or exhilaration he’s not sure. Maybe both? Quite possibly both. It’s the thrill of exhilaration that leads him to wrap his arms around the wolf’s neck and he doesn’t even mind the blood. “Thank you. Now he’ll never hurt anyone ever again.”

There’s a rush of magic, a thrum so strong he feels it in his bones and all at once he’s embracing Ronan in his human form. He wraps him up in his cloak. “You really ought to have waited until we were inside you silly dog.” He scolds lightly, lips curved up in a teasing smile.

“My brother and I run hot, it takes a lot for us to feel cold.” Ronan mumbles, his mouth still stained red. “It’s you who should still be inside.”

“I’ll go back in a second.” He takes a moment to fuss over him, to slick back his dark hair damp with sweat and blood so it doesn’t stick to his face. “Really though, thank you.”

“Hank has made sure to notify the King himself, and Jericho will be rebuilt. His Majesty granted you access to the royal kitchens so you can still bake while your bakery is reconstructed.” Ronan speaks so earnestly Simon feels overwhelmed tears prick his eyes.

“Does the King know what happened to Captain Perkins?”

“...He fell to beasts in the forest. He shouldn’t have tried to travel after nightfall.” Ronan says lightly, a grin twitching at his lips.

“It’s because he didn’t have a guardian at his side.” Simon quips. “Otherwise he’d have been the safest traveller in all the kingdoms.”

Ronan looks at him with such fondness, leaning in to bump their noses together in a gesture that strikes Simon as rather puppylike.

“I’ll protect you, Simon. If you’ll let me.”

Simon doesn’t answer right away, taking a moment just to admire Ronan Anderson under the bright moonlight naked as the day he was born save for Simon’s travelling cloak. He knows he should feel horrified. The brothers are, in some way, monsters to be feared. There’s something humorous about all this, though, about everything that’s happened, that’s led to where they are right this very moment. It’s a funny little turn of events, and he chooses to see it that way, chooses to bury another box and in that box is the fear that should have been felt.

He realises he loves him in a monstrous way, that all this feels right and sanctified and just. He presses his mouth to his, and their first kiss tastes of death and victory at all once.

“I’d like that very much.”

#dbh simon #rk900 #hank anderson #dbh connor #detroit: become human #dbh kara #dbh alice #tw blood #tw gore #dbhrarepairs #annie writes: dbh #sorry for the lateness fam i was at my parents' place this weekend #today's song is Shrike by Hozier

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maevefiction · 5 years

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Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 50

Luke and Simon finished up their move on November 30th, and we closed on the penthouse December 2nd. I’d been busy getting things sorted at the office, and though Tom had begun packing there was still much more to do before the company we’d hired to relocate all our worldly belongings showed up on December 15th. We figured that would give us just enough time to settle in before Christmas, which Diana would again be hosting this year. There were boxes everywhere, and at nearly seven months pregnant my ability to navigate tight spaces seemed to diminish a little more with each passing day. Since we’d been back there’d been intermittent discussions regarding what to name Prog, but everything we came up with just didn’t seem to fit. Roland had always been my first choice, but that fucker Simon had beaten me to it, and while I could technically still use it, I harbored zero desire to have to listen to him calling me a copycat for the rest of my natural life so it was officially off the table. Tom’s first choice was William, but almost immediately after mentioning it he recalled that was my ex-husband’s name and into the ‘nope’ pile it went. By the weekend of the 10th we’d gotten to the point wherein we were wrapping and packing our collectibles, AKA the socially acceptable term for adult-owned toys, at least in our case, anyway. Tom had donned his Indiana Jones fedora after finding it in the spare room and was humming the theme on and off while wielding a tape gun as if it were a weapon. I’d flopped down on the bed, at which point he’d decided to see if he could land the hat on my belly. One toss was all it took, which wasn’t surprising because an easier target would have been a challenge to establish, and I just let it remain there because removing it would have required entirely too much effort on my part. Prog decided to give it a kick, and with that, just as I’d know he was a boy, I knew his name. I sat up, hat in my hand, eyes wide. Tom stared at me, concerned.

“Everything all right?”

Nodding, I waved the fedora at him. “This is it. The name. His name.”

Tom’s left eyebrow rose as his head tilted to the right. “Fedora?”

I rolled my eyes. “Really? No. Not fedora.”

He pursed his lips, one hand rising to stroke his jaw. “Surely you don’t mean to call him Indiana. Though, that is rather cool, if I’m honest…but it sounds awful in conjunction with Hiddleston, doesn’t it?”

I sighed heavily in exasperation at his lack of comprehension, be it genuine or a ruse, as to where I was going with this, shaking my head as I lowered my chin to my chest briefly, then turned my gaze back to him.

“No, Tom. Not Indiana. His name is Henry. Henry Thomas Hiddleston.”

His hand shifted from his jaw to cover his mouth, nearly concealing a gasp of surprise. He walked around the bed to kneel in front of me, fingers grazing my belly as he leaned forward. “Oh. Oh my. That’s it, you’re spot on. Henry. Hello Henry. Wow. Okay.” He looked up so his eyes met mine, a huge smile spreading across his face. “Guess we’ll call the dog Indiana, then.”

“Cat. We can call the cat Indiana.”

He pouted. “A house isn’t a home without a dog, Maude.”

“You know what? You’re right…a house isn’t a home without a dog. A hot dog. Which is what I want, like, right now. Help a girl up so she can go grab one out of the fridge, m’kay? All cold and salty…mmm…”

He obliged, taking my hands and providing a gentle boost. “I’d be more than happy to cook for you, you know…”

“Thank you, but…nope. Cold hot dog. Maybe two. Or three.” He stuck his tongue out, shaking his head in mock disgust. I shrugged. “Can’t be helped. What Henry wants, Henry gets, you know?”

He kissed the top of my head. “Oh, I know. What ‘Henry’ wants, is it?”

As we entered the hallway, I punched him in the arm. “Listen, I’m going to milk this whole pregnancy thing as much as possible. It’s the first time in my life I’ve had a legitimate reason to behave like a diva on a regular basis.”

“You’re no diva, love. You’re a goddess…my goddess, thank the stars…and should be treated accordingly.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that.”

He smirked. “Well, I feel as if I’ve achieved what I’d always thought was an impossible victory.”

“Whatever. Hush up and fix me my hot dog.”

“Hmmm, I thought Henry was the one who…”

“Is that how we treat the goddess, Tom? Is it?”

Bowing deeply, he took my hand and brought it to his lips as he gazed up at me. “No. No it is not. Shall I make it up to you by delivering your meal to the couch so you can sit back and elevate your legs?”

I patted him on the head as he rose. “That’s more like it. Also, yes please. And thank you.”

“C’est mon plaisir, Maude.”

“Oh god, not the French.” I’d developed a bit of a kink for it over the past month, which he’d graciously accommodated. Rear entry was really the only position that worked well for us of late, and my libido had tanked considerably. Him talking dirty always got me in the mood, though, and when he spoke in French it was like my stupid maternity pants just fell right off. Once he’d discovered that saying literally anything in that particular language got me fired up, even if I had no idea what the fuck it meant, he began making a habit of interjecting it into our conversations when I least expected it.

“Votre chaud chien vous attend.”

I recognized a good bit of that, especially the words for ‘hot’ and ‘dog’. “Pretty sure hot dog in French is just…hot-dog, Tom.”

“That’s not nearly as erotic as chaud chien, is it?”

I groaned. “No. No it’s not. You suck.”

He grinned. “We’ll see.”

****************************************

Once all our stuff was in place and put away, it became apparent that the penthouse was downright vast as far as space was concerned. The sofa and chairs blended in nicely with the modern design, and the tree of life rug looked perfect in front of the built-in white shelf that ran the length of the closed stair railing, but they seemed so much…smaller. Even the dining table was dwarfed by the openness, though it was, at least in part, sort of freeing…less cluttered living. The bar-style island required the purchase of new chairs so we could eat there when we felt like it, and I insisted upon the kind with backs as opposed to bar stools because I knew I’d end up ass over teakettle otherwise. Admittedly, there was an awful lot of white cabinetry throughout, but the floor to ceiling windows let in so much light it seemed much more New York flat-ish as opposed to New Orleans house-ish. The entry point was on the lower floor, within the rectangular portion of the building. Just inside the main door and to the left was a guest half-bath, with a hall door that led to two large bedrooms with full en suites. In the entryway, next to the door to the bedrooms, was a hall closet. Directly across the entryway from the closet was the double-door entrance to the circular portion of the building. Straight ahead through the doors and on the right-hand side of the circle there was a staircase to the second level, and to the left was a door to another small hallway that led to two more en suites, one average-sized rectangular bedroom and a a second three-sided bedroom comprised of two traditional walls and one curved measuring twenty-seven by eleven feet overall. Down past the staircase and on the left was the entrance to the twenty by eighteen-foot master suite, with a full quarter-circle glass wall on one side overlooking a forty by nine-foot terrace. The bath was also quarter-circle in shape, and the dressing room rectangular. We sacrificed some of the dressing room square footage in order to put in a door to the other semi-circular bedroom, figuring it would be an ideal location for Henry’s nursery. The upstairs footprint was identical to that of the lower level, though wide open except for the small wall that served to support the kitchen cabinetry. There was another half bath just off the kitchen in the squared-off dining room area, as well as sliders to the large private outdoor deck that overlooked Regent’s Park. Where to display our book collection was our biggest conundrum…the only section of appropriate public wall space was in the living room opposite the television and stairs, but the couch was backed against it so they’d have to be above and behind us, which would make it impractical to peruse them easily since they’d be difficult to reach. There was space for shelving downstairs just before the staircase, but not enough room for everything. The entry area was also an option, but still, not enough room. We decided to store them in the smallest bedroom until we’d grown accustomed to day-to-day living in the penthouse and had a better feel for the flow, especially since there were more pressing issues that required our attention at the moment. Issues like ‘holy fuck, what actually, like, goes in a nursery anyway and where do we buy this shit’.

The answer to ‘where do we buy this shit’ was simple…the internets, thank you very much. As it turned out what goes in a nursery was also answered simply and included a.) place for the baby to sleep, b.) place to dress the baby and conduct baby-waste removal and related clean-up activities, c.) place to store the things required for item b and finally d.) a rocking glider which was sold under the pretense of baby feeding and baby rocking but was more than likely a spot for the parental units to collapse because they were too exhausted to walk another fifteen feet to their bed after completing all of the aforementioned tasks. Things got complicated when the morons with minimal baby experience attempted to choose the design style for the nursery components while trying very, very hard to be mindful of the form over function rule but wound up falling down the ‘oh, we might need this too’ rabbit hole. There was the Baby Bay, a white three-quarter crib that attached underneath a mattress so there could be co-sleeping without the danger of rolling over and suffocating the infant, which seemed like a great idea since I’d decided I’d give breast feeding a go. Next was a tripod bassinet for upstairs that came complete with a curtain to block out light in case Henry needed to crash out while we were doing Adult Things. It looked like a teepee, and I questioned its stability but Simon said it was perfectly fine and that he’d ordered them for their old place above the office, which would function as a family-friendly home-away-from-home for him and Luke going forward. For when Henry was awake, a baby lounger was evidently required, and I chose a 3-in-1 bouncy-recliner model with a light wood base and a micro-fiber seat, finding myself left bitterly disappointed that such things, if available, were not easy to find in an adult size. All of the furniture was either white or grey, or white and grey, other than the clear acrylic rolling bookshelf, which looked like it was straight out of Magneto’s prison cell. The crib railings were white and the sides grey, and the nightstands and dresser/changer combo mimicked the same design, both sporting grey sides and white drawers. The glider was oversized...really oversized, and I was pretty sure Tom and I would be able to squeeze into it together when I was no longer a sci-fi movie sized dinosaur egg with appendages. It was grey mock-tweed, as was the ottoman, both with brushed chrome bases. We’d found a Mima Xari aluminum and black stroller that screamed ‘Maude! Shiny! For baby!’ but was priced at a ludicrous $1700…after watching several videos and evaluating the cost of the individual components we’d still need to purchase if we went with a different model, I gave in, reassuring myself that this was one of those rare instances wherein function and form melded perfectly. We copied Luke and Simon’s car seat and baby wrap choices since they’d been researching prior to the actual conception of the girls, and other than incidentals like diapers, clothing and bedding, Tom and I felt we were prepared for Henry’s arrival. Or at least we felt as such until we thought of yet another ‘oh, right, that’, which, for me, was a significant indicator that no one is ever fully prepared for such a momentous event and that parenting would probably be like everything else in life…a total ‘fake-it-‘til-you-make-it’ scenario. Shit happens, you deal with it. Which just happened to be my specialty.

Christmas at Diana’s was peaceful, joyful and chock full of hilarity. No painful family secrets to be revealed, no anger, no resentment…a simple gathering of people who’d endured a great deal of ups and downs over the past twelve months and were feeling incredibly blessed to be in each other’s company while not-at-all politely competing for the title of Scrabble Champion. I knew that trying to keep the fact that I was carrying a boy under wraps would likely be an epic fail, so once we’d settled in on Christmas Eve Tom mentioned that we’d learned the gender and since we might slip up we’d prefer to tell everyone prior to such an occurrence. James wept at the news, beaming with pride as he strode toward me. I could feel myself bristling initially, but when he kissed his right palm and then placed it on my belly and said ‘first a granddaughter and now a grandson…how fortunate a man am I to see this come to pass’ I realized I’d read his reaction entirely incorrectly and felt like a huge jerk until I was distracted by a plate of scones being circulated among us.

As part of her gift to us Diana asked if we’d allow her to paint a mural in the nursery, which was a fantastic idea, but drew attention to the fact that we’d yet to choose a theme. This was unacceptable in parenting circles, apparently. Worse, even, than not having a birthing plan that laid out every detail right down to the specific piece of music you wished to play as your baby emerged from your womb. Every theme we’d considered left us feeling ‘meh’ at best…they were either too gendered, too boring, too busy, or just plain fugly. Dr. Seuss had been a viable option for a day or two, but the more I stared at the bedding the less interesting it became and boom…suddenly, meh. On Christmas morning, after all our other gifts had been opened, Diana left the room briefly and returned with a large box wrapped in red foil and set it on the floor in front of the sofa Tom and I were lounging on. From her expression I discerned that she was both excited and nervous about us seeing the contents inside. She smiled sheepishly.

“Now if you don’t have use for any of this, please don’t think I’ll be offended. And please don’t you be offended by my presumptuousness…it’s just that Tom was always very fond of…well, I’d best let you open it before I spoil things, shouldn’t I?”

Inside was a plastic tub, which Tom lifted out and placed beside the gift box, jaw dropping as he removed the lid.

“Mum, my god…is this what I think it is?”

She nodded. “I saved all of your layettes and other special items from when you were babies, both because I love to look at them from time to time and because I thought you might want them for your own babies someday…” She trailed off, sniffling.

Tom began removing onesies, rompers, footed pajamas, tiny t-shirts, shorts, and overalls…all of them bearing at least one character from the Winnie the Pooh series. I watched them pile up on his thighs until one in particular caught my eye. I reached for it, surprised by the fact that it was in such beautiful condition all these years later. It was a jumpsuit, the sleeves, collar and and ankle cuffs a cream-colored cotton, the rest a green, brown, yellow and cream plaid flannel with four white decorative buttons down the front. To the right and towards the bottom was an embroidered Pooh raking leaves, and to the left and near the shoulder was an embroidered Tigger appearing to be leaping out of the jumpsuit pocket while tossing leaves into the air. I couldn’t stop staring at it, Diana’s voice when she spoke sounding as if it was emanating from another room.

“I’d always loved Winnie the Pooh, and so did Tom, right from the start. He’d get so excited when I’d sing him the theme song, even when he still fit in those clothes, his legs and arms flailing about…”

Sarah snorted. “That’s still how he dances, to this day.”

I smiled because she sure as shit wasn’t wrong, but could also feel myself tearing up as my fingers traced over Pooh and Tigger and the softness of the flannel, picturing Diana singing to Tom while he was wearing it, then imagining myself singing to Henry while he was wearing the very same garment. The tears began to flow, running down my cheeks in spite of my best efforts to not cry. I looked up at Diana and found her frowning, concern in her eyes.

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

I smiled through my tears. “No, no…please don’t be sorry. This…these…all beautiful…I just…I don’t have any of this sort of stuff and I’m so grateful that you do and that you’ve chosen to share it with me. With us. It means more than I can ever properly express. Thank you, Diana. So much. I don’t suppose that mural can be a scene from the Hundred Acre Wood, could it?”

She gasped, her own tears glimmering with flashing colors, reflecting the tree lights. “Really? Well what an unexpected and perfect gift for me…yes, yes. I have one in mind already, actually…”

Tom leaned in to wipe my tears with his thumbs and kiss my cheek, grinning. “That’s our theme problem solved then, eh?”

I nodded, snuggling into his side. “Yep. Only one thing left on our list, really.”

He draped his arm around my shoulders. “And what’s that?”

I patted my belly. “Convincing Henry to exit the premises as scheduled.” He laughed, and I pointed my left index finger in his direction. “It’s a legitimate concern.”

“It’s not uncommon to go past the due date, is it?”

I shook my head. “No. But I’m crossing my fingers that l he’ll take after me as opposed to you in regard to timeliness.”

As he began to speak Diana interrupted him. “Maude, perhaps it will ease your mind a bit to know that Tom was the only child I bore that wasn’t late. All downhill after that though, as far as being prompt goes, I’m afraid.”

Tom attempted to speak again, only to be interrupted by me this time around. “So there IS hope after all…even if it’s fleeting, I’ll take it.”

****************************************

Tom opened and held the Bull & Last’s heavy wooden entry door for me so I could waddle my way inside. Though I was now officially five days beyond my due date, we were out and about on a Friday night to meet Luke and Simon for a Tom’s day-late birthday and early Valentine’s Day celebration dinner. It was their first time out of the house together sans children since Persephone and Esmerelda had arrived on December 28th, and probably Tom’s and my last for a while. I’d covered the Prosper office from that point until Luke had returned on February 1st and I’d wanted to keep working, but Tom very gently suggested that perhaps I should take some time off to relax before Henry joined us. An argument ensued and I may or may not have called him a sexist asshole prior to discussing the matter via phone with Dr. Phillips who agreed that it was probably best to take it easy since I’d begun experiencing some edema, which he’d mentioned a week earlier but I’d decided to ignore. I considered calling him a sexist asshole as well, but Tom had clicked the end call button before I had a chance to properly evaluate the situation. After he retrieved a bag of truffles from the kitchen for me we’d had a little chat wherein we attempted to establish why I might be feeling the need to keep working, during which I stared him straight in the eye and said very matter-of-factly that there was a human growing inside me and it was going to come OUT of me and there was nothing I could do about it but maybe if I just kept going things would stay just as they were forever. AKA, I was scared shitless about the entire process, I felt powerless, I didn’t like feeling powerless, so I did something that made me feel powerful as a distraction so I wouldn’t have to face reality. Classic Maude, Impending Motherhood Edition. The fear had remained until three days ago when Henry did a somersault that nearly knocked me off the couch and I began having to pee every forty minutes or so. A few hours into that fuckery I was willing to try anything to get labor going, but when I’d gotten up this morning I’d found myself in a state of quiet acceptance. I’d gotten my wish…I was going to be pregnant FOR-EV-ER.

We spotted the free birds at the corner window table, all the way at the back of the main room to the left of the fireplace. My black leather boots, which Tom had kindly put on for me since my feet and I hadn’t seen each other in four weeks or so, clunked as we made our way across the wooden floor. As we drew closer Simon stood and clapped.

“Oh honey, I love that dress…” His clapping ceased as he tiled his head from one side to the other. “Maude. You’re waddling. Which you weren’t doing when I saw you Tuesday. Wowza.”

“Yes. The waddling. I’m aware. Also, I can’t wear pants anymore and this is the only dress I could squeeze into that was suitable for public consumption but, you know, yay that you love it, I guess.” It was a tea-length black mock-turtleneck sweater dress, the merino wool blend making it possible to go without a coat, which was necessary since none of those fucking fit me any longer, either. I sighed as Tom pulled out the chair nearest the fireplace for me, then lowered myself down like a sloth. There was no need for him to push me in because my belly was already mere centimeters from the table. Simon was directly across from me, and he walked around the table and squatted next to me, tapping on my stomach gently.

“Henry, I’m sure it’s cozy in there, but you really need to come out and play with us. Your friends Seph and Ez can’t wait to meet you.” The girls were, not surprisingly, gorgeous…both blonde, Seph with Luke’s brown eyes and Ez’s eyes a shade lighter than Simon’s grey ones. I’d held them both, separately, which was terrifying enough, thank you very much, but every time it was Ez’s turn Henry became far more active than normal. I’d even made a point of testing the theory, and it totally panned out. Seph, nothing. Ez, kicks and shifting aplenty. I had not a clue what the deal was, but it was fascinating nonetheless.

I patted the top of Simon’s head. “I appreciate your efforts, kind sir. But I think he’s just a tiny bit…dare I say…stubborn. And I have no idea where he gets that from. Certainly not from me.”

Tom sat, pulling his chair forward. “Not from me either. It’s an unsolvable riddle, in my opinion.”

We all laughed as Simon returned to his seat, took a sip of his wine, planted a kiss on Luke’s cheek, then lifted his glass high. “Cheers, dear friends. To laughter, love and life.”

Tom and I raised our water glasses and Luke lifted his very full beer mug carefully, all of us clinking in the middle. The waiter arrived with menus, and I stared at mine for entirely too long trying to find something that appealed to me. All of the entrees were a no, so I ordered sides – a bread basket, Buttermilk Chicken & Aioli, and Triple Cooked Chips. Tom opted for the Chargrilled Onglet, Simon the Chargrilled Aged Cote de Boeuf, and Luke the Beer Battered Haddock. Halfway through dinner I reached across to snag a piece of beef from Simon’s plate and felt a pop, then a rush of warm liquid between my thighs. I froze, and my expression was presumedly cause for concern because, in unison, the three of them asked if I was all right. I took a deep breath as I put down my fork and leaned back into my seat.

“Well, I’m pretty sure my water just broke, so…I mean, I don’t know?”

Tom whipped his phone out of the back pocket of his black dress pants, and I heard him greeting Dr. Phillips as I pondered my predicament. On one hand, I was thrilled, and on the other, frightened. Weren’t there supposed to be contractions first? Because I’d yet to have any, so did that mean something was wrong? I’d read about labor over and over but my ability to retain information had declined considerably throughout my pregnancy, which was a common occurrence. I shook my head.

“But yet I remember that relatively unimportant fact in a rather ironic fashion.”

Tom told Dr. Phillips that he didn’t recall me mentioning anything about it, then passed me the phone. He was white as a sheet, and I could tell he was trying very, very hard to not freak out. I took it from his shaking hand and held it up to my left ear, Dr. Phillips’s tempered Scottish accent causing me to envision Sean Connery, as per usual. He resembled him, really, though shorter and much rounder. Grey hair, bald on top with a closely cropped beard and piercing dark brown eyes. Kind of like a cross between Santa Claus and James Bond, in the business of delivering presents and a being a huge hit with the ladies.

“Maude! Finally some news, eh?”

“Uh-huh. I felt a pop, then a sploosh…but I haven’t had any contractions…is that normal? I know I knew the answer to that but I just…don’t anymore. Oy.”

He chuckled. “Hormones wreak unexpected havoc, don’t they? Yes, it’s normal. But, you should head to the Portland tonight to check in. Labor usually begins within twenty-four hours after the amniotic sac starts leaking, and being in hospital reduces the risk of infection. Which is quite minimal, mind you. So, Tom said he couldn’t recall you mentioning any pain. Be that as it may, I’ll ask you in any case…have you experienced any pain?”

“Other than my lower back screaming at me, no. And that’s nothing new. I mean, it does seem worse today than usual but…oh, shit. Back labor. Is this back labor, do you think? Also, as I do for all medical professionals forced to interact with me while I’m experiencing any sort of pain, I’m going to go ahead and apologize now not just for this singular instance of the use of profanity but for the hundreds of others you’ll likely be hearing until this whole birth thing is done and over with. So, sorry. Anyway…back labor?”

“At what point did the intensity of the pain increase, Maude? A general timeframe is what I’m after here, so precision isn’t essential.”

Throughout the entire duration of baby-harboring I’d kept as active as possible, doing yoga, walking outdoors and on the treadmill in our new gym, dancing when the spirit moved me…and I’d only gained twenty pounds. Up until four weeks prior I hadn’t felt constrained in any way, really, but by then I’d gotten so large that yoga was no longer possible and once the routine stretching ceased the muscles in my lower back became stiff and sore. It was most noticeable when I was standing for long periods and eased when I resumed a sitting position. When Tom and I had gone grocery shopping last night the pain had definitely been more pronounced, and it had continued even when I was in a horizontal position, trying to get some sleep between bathroom trips. I hadn’t thought anything of it because, frankly, I expected random physical components to begin failing the longer I continued to schlepp Henry’s estimated nine-plus pounds around. I squeezed my eyes shut as I answered the question, embarrassed by my ignorance.

“Um, almost twenty-four hours ago.”

There was a long pause, followed by Dr. Phillips first inhaling, then exhaling deeply. “All right then. As I said, next step is getting you to the Portland. May I speak with Tom again, please, Maude?”

I laughed. “You’re going to tell him that I’ve probably been in labor for a whole day and we need to bust a move so I don’t give birth right here or something, aren’t you? Sure, you can talk to him…but I’m going to put you on speaker, okay?” I tapped the button, then handed the phone back to Tom, who wasn’t quite as white but still far paler than normal. He cleared his throat, then spoke.

“I’m here, Dr. Phillips. We’re about fifteen minutes away from the hospital. Will that do?”

“Get there just as soon as you can. Maude, if you begin to experience contractions, be sure either you or Tom track the time between. I’ll make sure everything is ready by the time you arrive. If things escalate quickly, call emergency services first, then me. All right?”

Tom nodded, then remembered Dr. Phillips couldn’t see him. “Yes. Thank you. We’ll be leaving immediately.”

Dr. Phillips assured us that everything would be fine, wished us luck, then hung up. Simon, who’d remained refreshingly subdued during the exchange, began babbling as Luke sipped his beer.

“Ohmygod, okay, this is happening. It’s happening. Do you need us to drive you? We can drive you and bring your car down later. You have your go bag with you, right, Maude? In the car? Have to remember to get that on the way out…”

I covered my face with my hands, my voice muffled as I spoke. “No. I do not have my go bag. My go bag is sitting in the hallway at home, where I put it so I’d remember to ask Tom to put it in the car when we left. It was in the car, but I decided to reorganize it for the hundredth time yesterday. Hence why it’s sitting. In the hallway. At home.”

Tom gently pulled my hands away from my face and held them in his own, placed a kiss on each palm, then released them. “We’ll figure it out, love. First things first…we need to, as you said previously, bust a move.”

Luke stood, and Simon followed suit. “Simon can use our vehicle to go back to the Atrium and pick up your bag, I’ll drive you in yours and we’ll all meet up at the hospital.”

Just like they’d transitioned to a family vehicle, Tom and I had purchased a Range Rover Sport right after the holidays. I wasn’t a Jeep, but I’d deemed it acceptable, at least in the gunmetal grey body color. What I wasn’t prepared to deem acceptable was someone chauffeuring us in it on our birth pilgrimage…we’d decided that it would only be the two of us in the delivery room, hospital staff being the only exception, and I’d assumed it would be only the two of us on the way there as well. As I pushed down on the table and began to stand with the intention of stating that we’d be fine on our own but I’d really appreciate them picking up the enormous bag of shit I probably didn’t even need and dropping it off at the hospital, my first official contraction hit me like a freight train. I’d read that they were supposed to feel like menstrual cramps, but to me this…this felt more like food poisoning cramps on steroids. Once it passed I realized I had no concept whatsoever of how long it had lasted, or whether or not I’d remained silent. I didn’t recall having spoken, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t uttered some sort of reflexive primal scream. With the pain gone I was able to stand fully erect, and as I glanced to my right toward the bar no one was staring back at me so I figured I was in the clear as far as making a spectacle of myself went. For now, anyway. I turned to Tom, who was now standing as well, his eyes wide. The flash of utter terror I saw in them before he smiled at me changed my stance on being chauffeured.

I nodded. “Luke, that sounds great. Thank you. Simon, you have the key, right?” He nodded in turn. We had a set of keys to their place and they had one for ours, just in case of an accidental loss, lock-out or in the event of an emergency situation. I would have thought the latter wouldn’t be the first time they’d be needed, but hey, the universe is full of surprises, isn’t it? Fucking A it is. The sensation of something crawling down the inside of my left leg diverted my attention downward, scanning the wooden floor and hoping I wouldn’t see any droplets of amniotic fluid. Nope, so far so good…but the chair I’d been sitting on hadn’t been so fortunate. It was shiny, as if it had just been wiped with a wet cloth, which it had been, in a way…but it was a woolen wet cloth, also known as my dress. I grabbed my napkin and dried the wood as best I could, then found myself wondering what the fuck to do with the soiled square of cloth. Putting it back on the table for our waiter to pick up would be super gross, and I’d left my purse in the car. Tom took note of my dilemma and reached out, grabbed the napkin and stuffed it into his front pants pocket. He was wearing a maroon sweater over a white button-down, and in that moment I loved him so fiercely it startled me. A sense of renewed energy and an almost absolute power flowed through me, and I took two steps toward him, then grabbed on to both of his forearms.

“I’m ready. Let’s go have this baby.”

He inclined his head in the affirmative, and I released him, then turned around and began to make my way toward the heavy wooden doors, pushing the one marked ‘exit’ outward. Tom was right behind me, close enough so no one would notice if there happened to be a dark spot on my dress…not that I gave a single fuck. I waddled my ass out into the night and down the sidewalk toward our car, my love in tow and my mind set on one purpose, and one purpose only…finally meeting our son.

#your light in the mist #chapter 50

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balmerancrystalance · 6 years

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the jock, the preppy and the nerd aka garrison matadashi hcs

matt and shiro meet for the first time when matt was getting bullied, trying to fight them in all his pre-serum steve rogers glory, when the roaring of a bike echoes loudly, following by someone yelling at the bully from behind to “pick someone of their own size”

shiro, taking off his helmet and hopping off the bike: hey, you alright?

matt, breathless by both the fight and the pretty boy now helping him stand up: yeah, you should’ve seen the other guy

this is why shiro has been a hero longer for matt than anyone else

shiro immediatelly becoming sam’s favorite after finding out what happened

they bond over comics, movies, memes and of course, s p a c e

they also become commander iverson’s headache

on his first try on the simulator shiro effortlessly beats the record

matt, whistling: would you look at that. soon you’re gonna have every girl in here drooling over you

shiro: *closeted gay silence*

shiro eventually comes out to matt as gay when watching love, simon on movie night, giving matt the confidence enough to come out as bisexual

matt starts to wear glasses and hates them because he thinks now he looks even more like a nerd

matt: it’s like i literally have a ‘break my nose’ sign tattooed on my forehead

shiro, without looking up from his paper: actually, the reason why you get beat up is because you wear heelies but go off i guess? besides, i think they look cute

matt: *blushes in bisexual*

a year later, the first day adam walks into class shiro’s brain short-circuits

caramel smooth skin, aurburn hair falling all over his face, golden eyes looking through the room, uniform fitting in just the right places and-oh shit, he’s coming this way, fuck fuck f u c k

adam, smiling: hi, excuse me, is that seat taken?

shiro, a gay mess™: *tentatively looking down at his lap* i-

matt, slamming his hands against the table: please, join us

just when shiro thought he survived his interaction of adam asking him for a pencil their teacher offers shiro to show to show the new kids around

teacher: i’m sure one of our best students here would love to walk you through the installations and help you getting settled down

shiro, internally: ♫ conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them knoooow ♫

adam, nudging his arm smirking: so, what you say golden boy?

*shiro.exe has stopped working and somehow got even gayer*

matt excusing himself of having to do something for the rest of the day, even tho he knows shiro knows he’s lying

matt, picking up his stuff as soon as the bell rings: i’d love to join you but you know how dad gets when i’m late and stuff but hey, have fun, yeah? gotta gay-go, i gotta go!

adam, hooking his glasses into his slightly open garrison jacket: seems like you’re stuck with me

shiro: *gay panic bass boosted x10000*

the three of them quickly become friends, adam becoming their new mediator whenever they bicker (”okay, but hear me out, what if shiro is actually six?” “for the last time, that’s not how it fucking works”), knowing for some reason shiro would always listen to him and that matt is slightly intimidated by him

shiro wears his garrison jacket out, adam wears it tucked in and matt is lucky if he remembers to wear it

adam beats shiro’s score on the simulator on his first try but he’s already way head over heels for him to be even bothered about it, too focused on adam’s smile as he comes out of the ship to hear the other kids mocking because ‘the new kid beat his score’

shiro, later that day: i guess some congratulations are in order

adam, releasing the breath he was holding: oh, thank god. i thought you’d be mad at me

shiro, smirking: well, maybe i am

adam: oh, really now? *getting closer to shiro* can i make it up to you?

matt, bursting into the room in nagisa 50% off’s voice: sup, sluts?

matt knows they like-like each other before even they do, maybe its a holt’s intuition, maybe its the fact they were the epitome of the mutual pining ao3 tag

shiro finally asks adam on a date??? he’s still not sure how it happened, like, one minute he was was talking about a meteor shower and the next one adam’s hand was on his thigh saying he would see him tonight

if he got lost in adam’s lips in the middle of the conversation, which had some information he could really use right now, no one needed to know

shiro, running around their living room in panic: what do i do?

matt, playing video games sitting upside down on the couch: use the bike, that did it for me

shiro, after getting his keys and slamming the door shut: right-wait, what?!

boy oh boy does adam love the bike

shiro: need a ride, star pilot?

adam, already hopping on the bike: i don’t know. i’m not supposed to get on bikes with strangers. no matter how hot they are

shiro, laughing: then thank god you’re an awful listener

adam, whispering on shiro’s ear, smiling: to the stars, golden boy

its cheesy and disgusting and if he tells matt he won’t hear the end of it but adam looks so pretty under the moonlight shiro doesn’t care, its just perfect

shiro: did you asked for a wish already?

adam: to every single one we saw so far

shiro: how many things could you possibly want

adam, getting closer to finally kiss shiro: well, right now? just one, you

shiro and adam go back to shiro’s room forgetting matt was there o o p s

adam, the next day: are we really going to pretend nothing happe-

matt and shiro, at the same time: yes

once its oficial, adam and matt switch rooms so he can be with shiro, matt agreeding immediately when he found out adam’s roomate droped out, meaning he had the whole room to himself

adam calls him “takashi” for the first time and shiro ascends to the astral plane

the three of them somehow graduate from the garrison with honors

adam and shiro decide to become teachers, commander iverson’s recommendation, and matt hangs around every now and then helping sam

everyfuckingone in the galaxy garrison knows they’re a thing™

shiro, knocking into adam’s classroom: professor, might i have a word?

students: oOOooOooooOoOoooOOOoOooOhhhh

years later they find out that not only matt, but shiro as well, could be part of the kerberos mission, adam nothing but excited and supportive of his two favorite boys

after a few requiered studies for the mission are done, shiro gets called back, returning a few hours later with papers in his trembling hands

matt, getting up from adam’s lap where he was solving his rubik's cube: oh, fucking finally. dude, what took you so long?

adam, getting up as well: i was starting to geeting worried. what they said?

shiro, looking down at the paper, whispering: i’m... dying

shiro doesn’t get to continue because suddenly adam is runing away, feeling like he’s going to be sick at any moment, matt motioning him with his head to go after him, that he’ll be fine and they’ll talk about it later

that same day matt gets home and walks into sam’s office, sam is on the phone with someone but immediately hungs up at the sight of his son, they don’t say anything, they don’t need to

sam just nods and matt rushes to cry into his arms as loud as he can maybe since the time he found out he was having a sister and thought it meant his parents wouldn’t love him anynmore

shiro constantly says he’s okay, but he’s not

shiro and adam start to fight

they both end up occasionally at matt’s bed in the middle of the night, shiro just being done with life and needing a shoulder to cry on, adam terrified of not knowing how much left he has left to live with shiro

if matt wakes up sandwiched between his best friends he doesn’t mind

adam and matt work with the garrison on a project to create a device that would estimulate shiro’s muscles, they know its not much but its enough to make him cry, so they take it as a win

shiro and adam keep fighting

one night while watching movies adam asks matt to bring him his glasses, since shiro was way too comfortable to move from his spot sprawled across his lap apparently, matt finding a box with an engagement ring by accident

tiny teeny baby keith becomes part of this dysfunctional as fuck gay family

matt, mocking: aren’t you two too young to raise a child?

adam, sipping his black coffee not looking up from the newspaper: i don’t know. i think we’ve done a pretty decent job with you

adam sees how good shiro is with keith and fuck he just wants k i d s

shiro and adam just keep on fighting

the night after showing pidge how sam and him communicate it hits him like a whiplash, running to the garrison to find adam to tell him the good news, that the three of them will be able to talk all the way from kerberos

but he eavesdrops by accident them fighting about adam being tired about shiro constantly putting himself in danger and finally breaking up, so he keeps it to himself

when adam and shiro started to date, matt, being the overprotective best friend he is, told adam to take care of shiro, the morning before leaving for kerberos, adam asks him to return the favor

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poppyknitt · 5 years

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Mischievous Magicians- A JSE Egos Fanfic

Recap: Marvin has returned to the egos, however, he did so recklessly, and is spending his time in the hospital, occasionally drifting into unconsciousness as he waits for his injuries to heal. More recently, however, Jackieboyman’s son, Liam, was finally born, on the eve of the one-year anniversary of Overnightwatch, and they found there was one more baby than expected, who was named Brandon. Meanwhile, Seán finished recording his video for the day, only to find that Merlin, whom is actually just a Marvin, belonging to a different universe, was sitting in his home and enjoying what little of himself he could, since, as it turns out, he has been chasing his world’s Anti, and believes that he came to our universe, looking to destroy it.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[December 17th]

Seán ran after Merlin, who was happily bouncing around the streets of Brighton, basically showing off his “skills”, which, Seán had a feeling were just being temporarily boosted by his magic.

“Hurry up, Jackaboy! We’re gonna be la-ate!” Merlin taunted him in a sing-songy voice, a big, dopey grin plastered on his face, as Seán finally caught up to him.

“Please don’t call me that.” He wheezed, looking up at the childish magician, who was sitting on an outcropping, much like how Spiderman probably would, “Also, what the hell are we even doing?!”

Merlin’s grin dropped for a moment, as he probably had to think about it, but he smiled softly, and shrugged, making an “I dunno” noise.

Seán facepalmed, “Of course you don’t. What are you trying to do, anyways?”

“Uh... Explore Brighton..? We... don’t exactly live here in my universe...”

“... You don’t..?”

“Nope. Ours, uh, is kinda geographically different..? I-I don’t even know if we have a Brighton. You can probably pretty much forget ‘England’ as a whole.” He paused, putting on a mild poker face, “But now that I think about it, I may actually live in some kind of pocket dimension, which could explain why our Anti resorted to attacking and destroying other universes... Not very easy to destroy a pocket dimension you didn’t make..”

“... I have many questions.”

“That’s understandable.”

“... Did... Did you just... UwU..? In- In real life?!”

“Mayyyybeee...”

“For the love of god, stop making that face.”

Merlin’s dopey grin returned, “Hmmm... Nah. Don’t feel like it.”

The mischievous magic man practically leapt back into action, darting around a corner so quickly that Seán figured it would be useless to try and run after him or make him calm down.

Marvin darted away from this strange world’s version of Seán, his eyes lighting up with pure childish joy as the thrill of running and jumping around Brighton like it were a playground or trampoline kicked in. He didn’t even notice that Seán had stopped following him until he finally landed himself on a lamppost, balancing exactly how Jackie had taught him. He looked around the city, his eyes wide with curiosity and wonder. His attention snapped downwards, as a familiar voice with a thick Scottish accent called to him.

“Hey, what on earth are ya doin’ up there?!” It was none other than Jackie’s friend, Oliver! Or, at least, this world’s version of him. He could tell that this Oliver hadn’t met Marvin quite yet.

“Oh, y’know. Just... Hanging around!” Merlin grinned childishly as he swung down, hanging upside-down from the lamppost now. Oliver snorted in amusement, probably not expecting him to do that.

“What’re you even dressed as?”

“Oh, this isn’t a costume, I’m just a magician.”

“Aye, okay... Guess it kinda makes sense..” He paused, “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Oliver!”

He dropped down, and stood up, “Marv- I mean Merlin.”

Oliver was obviously a bit suspicious now, but he didn’t say anything, “Aye. ‘Sa good name, lad.”

“Yours, too!”

“... You know, you kinda remind me of a good friend of mine. You don’t happen to know an Irish lad by the name of Simon, d’ya?”

“Yep! Dunno if he remembers me, though.”

“Well, that’s easily fixed, lad! I was actually on my way to see him. Why don’t ya come with me?”

“Sure thing! Sounds fun to me!”

Merlin had no clue where they were now. All he could tell from this was that Jackie didn’t live with the other egos anymore in this universe. They were at a small apartment complex, waiting for someone, presumably Jackie, to answer the door.

The doorknob turned, and the door opened, revealing Jackie, whose face lit up when he saw his friend, “Oh! Oliver! I didn’t expect to see you today! ... And... uh... Who..?”

“Aye, this guy calls ‘imself Merlin. Says he was a friend of yours at one point?”

“Uh, h-hey, Simon.” He waved nervously, knowing Jackie could tell what his actual name was.

Jackie put on a smile, and let them in, “Well, no matter! Come on in, you guys.”

Merlin’s face lit up, and he practically hopped into the apartment, “Sweet!”

The three spent an hour or so laughing and having a good time, until Oliver said he had to go home, for obvious reasons he didn’t need to say.Once he left, and Jackie had closed the door behind him, the hero turned slowly to face him, eyes narrowed slightly.

“Who are you? Why do you look like him?!” His tone was... less than favorable.

“Because... I’m him..? But? From another universe..?”

“... Well, that explains the difference in temperament..”

“What?”

“... Nothing.” Jackie paused, “Why are you here, exactly?”

“... Cuz I sorta chased after my world’s Anti when he found out he could leave it..? I think he came here in his most recent expedition...”

“... That’s not good.”

“Yeah, that’s what you Seán said, too.”

“Wait, you’ve spoken to Seán? H-How long have you even been here?!”

“Uh, yeah... I’ve been here a couple of days now... Went to Seán’s place yesterday to try and cool off or something, and, uh, he found me. I didn’t realize your Seán was woken up already...” He started fidgeting nervously again.

“Ah, okay. That’s fine, i guess. Just as long as you don’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Oh! No, no! No, I’m only here to try and help you guys fight my Anti.”

“... Why would we need help anyways?”

“.... Because my Anti isn’t your everyday anti who doesn’t give a shit if his plans are a little last minute. He spends every waking moment plotting his every move, and the only thing to keep him from it in the first place is the rare occasions where we get a new ego. On those occasions, he usually sits back a while, and watches how they act, so he can predict them better.”

“How do you fight him if he knows your every move?!”

Merlin paused, and shrugged, making a bit of a poker face, “I dunno. My jackie doesn’t usually let me fight him.”

“And... You think you can help us fight him... How?”

“Because I know his fighting style better than you. And it was an excuse to get my Jackie to let me leave.”

That last comment got a laugh from the Hero, much to Merlin’s delight.

“God, you’re so childish.” Jackie laughed, putting his hand to his face, “I can see why he’d be so protective of you.”

“Hey, don’t think you can hold me back, old man! I have magic powers!” Merlin joked, a playfully determined look on his face as he pulled a hand back, pretending to wave an imaginary wand in the air, as though he were holding only one end of a pair of nunchucks or something. He almost lost his grin when he started feeling a slight shift in the world around him, and he realized that Jackie hadn’t taken any notice of it. He had a feeling that his Anti was preparing for something big, and he almost regretted trying to befriend the egos of this world. He wanted to save them, but... What if he was already too late..? He tried not to think about it, especially because he knew this world’s jackie had kids, just like his own Jackie did.

“... You okay, Merlin..?” Jackie’s features softened as he looked at the slightly smaller ego.

“... I’m... really worried about what my Anti will do with this world... I... I really like this place... I don’t want it to be destroyed... And..! And not to mention what could happen to you and the other egos from here, if he succeeds..!” He tried his best to keep his voice from breaking. He almost flinched when he detected Jackie hugging him, not expecting that.

“Hey, it’s okay, Merlin. He’s not gonna do anything to us, I promise.” They both knew it was a lie, but neither seemed to care, as if trying to convince themselves that it was true.

[December 21st]

Merlin happily bounded through the park, making sure he didn’t stray too far from Jackie and Ava, since he’d came to help them (specifically Ava) be assured that nothing bad was gonna happen to them while they were taking their new sons to the park. He slowed down a little as he picked up more of their current conversation, wanting to make sure everything was alright.

“... Brandon... powers, Jackie...”

“Shit, he does..? W-What kind?” Merlin already knew the answer to the question, as, in his universe, Liam and Brandon were born much earlier in the timeline than they were here, and were 8 years old now. Though, they hadn’t started developing powers until they were toddlers...

“Well, right now, he’s just got really abnormal strength levels... I’m worried he might accidentally hurt his brother..” Yep, that was one of them, alright. He just wished he could tell them all the funny stories he had about their sons’ powers.

“Don’t worry, Ava, we’ll make sure he doesn’t. Promise.”

Ava was still clearly worried about it, but she didn’t say anything.

Merlin decided to change the conversation, and turned around, still bouncing, as he walked backwards, “Hey! Guys! Look, a rainbow!” He pointed to the multicolored arch behind them, and both glanced in its direction. Jackie laughed as soon as he saw it, getting a confused, yet amused glance from Ava.

“What’s so funny about the rainbow?”

“I dunno, it’s just weird, i guess. Such a weird time and place to have one, you know?”

“I suppose it is.”

“It’s just raining over there, you two.. It’s not that deep.” He joked.

Merlin watched from afar as Thorn cautiously tried to approach Liam’s crib, amusement written all over his face, as the little snake creature shrank back from the small hands that grasped at the air in front of it. Jackie and Ava were out on a date, and Merlin had agreed to babysitting for them, until they came back.

A sudden thud on the patio brought his attention to the glass door, and he stood, carefully walking over to it, to look out and see what it was. He was surprised to see what looked like a person around his height, lying flat on the ground, wearing... a hospital gown?

He quickly opened the door, and darted to their side, turning them over to check for injuries. He had to hold himself from reeling back a few inches when he saw who it was- Another version of him! He must’ve been this world’s Marvin. That didn’t matter, though, because this version of him was clearly in no shape to be out of the hospital just yet, and had probably snuck out with a transportation spell. Hopefully it hadn’t backfired on him, because otherwise, he’d probably have just re-damaged several of his healing injuries.

“...J..ackie..?” The other groaned.

“Nope, sorry, Jackieboy’s off on a date. Girlfriend stuff, y’know?”

“... Then who...?”

“Uh. Long story. I’ll, uh, explain once I figure out what to do about this..” After that, the shorter-haired him passed out, presumably from the pain.

Marvin ran through a dense woodland he didn’t recognize, breathing heavily as he tried to outrun something he couldn’t see. Then, to his surprise and horror, the world around him was consumed by darkness, and all motion stopped.

A brief moment of nothing but darkness and silence passed, and then, his vision began flashing with images that flew by so fast, he couldn’t even really process them. Someone or something started screaming in his voice, and as he slowly walked forwards, it got louder, and the images stopped, revealing a version of himself on his knees, roughly grasping his hair between his fingers as he screamed.

Marvin froze at the sight, as the words being screamed slowly became more and more audible.

“No! You can’t do this! They were happy! Put them back! Let them go! They don’t deserve this-!” The longer-haired version of himself sobbed, as Anti walked into view, holding a knife, with a sickeningly sadistic, psychotic look plastered on his face. Behind the glitch flashed in the scattered bodies of the other egos, and more surprisingly, himself. The demon was laughing hysterically at the magician’s pain, each passing moment leaving him seeming to be more and more deranged, as he loomed over the broken magician before him, knife raised, and ready to kill.

Then, it all stopped, and a small, 8-year-old boy, who looked a fair bit like Jackie, appeared in front of him, his face devoid of any emotion.

“It’s too late to save them. I’m sorry. He has already won. You’re all going to become His puppets. Please, when you see him, tell Merlin to come home. I am afraid that he may not make it back. Our Anti is much more dangerous than he thinks.”

“Wait, who’s Merlin?!”

“... He’s you.”

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Next Chapter

Hehehehehee! Yay! More Merlin development! I love it! :D (I also hit the paragraph limit. Again. Lmao)

@antis-loyal-puppet @tiny-septic-puppet @rorald-spooks @chaoticcrimsonrose @septic-dr-schneep

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #marvin the magician #World Initiative #wi!jackie #wv!marvin #wi!marvin #fanfic #i love my magic son :D #i dont want him to ever be harmed #i will protecc with my life >:(

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nickyvmlp · 6 years

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My Top 10 Characters I Want in Smash Ultimate

I got a couple of requests for this in my last Smash reaction video, and I didn’t want to make it a full video, so it’ll go here, HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOO. (Also, none of my top 10 need to be echo fighters, but I’ll throw in a few echos near the end.)

10) Alex Roivas from Eternal Darkness: Sanity’s Requiem

This will not happen, especially with Simon and Richter filling the horror game niche, but I can dream, darnit. For the unaware, Eternal Darkness: Sanity’s Requiem was a 2002 GameCube exclusive psychological horror game; it’s basically Resident Evil meets Call of Cthulhu, and it’s my favorite horror game of all time. In the game, you play as Alex Roivas, a few of her ancestors, and few other schmucks across history unfortunate enough to stumble across an ancient book called the Tome of Eternal Darkness, which drags them into a conflict that could destroy the world. Alex ends up using the knowledge she’s learned from the Tome to stop the rise of three ancient deities, each bent on world domination. So in Smash, she could have the Tome at her disposal and could even carry it into battle like Robin does. Her standard attacks can involve normal weaponry she uses like guns and knives and stuff, while her special attacks can all involve using the Tome to summon something. For her Final Smash, she can hit everyone in a set radius around her with a huge sanity effect that adds 100% damage and breaks the shield of anyone caught in it, leaving them wide open for a heavy attack and a KO. Plus, more strong female Smash characters, never a bad thing.

9) Decidueye from Pokemon

Every Smash game has a new Pokemon rep, and there’s quite for few on the rumor mill. Gardevoir and Gothitelle get brought up a lot, but they’d draw a lot of comparisons to (and may end up being an EF to) Mewtwo, especially in Gardevoir’s case. They could also throw in a currently unannounced Pokemon from Gen 8 with that being right around the corner. But, Decidueye makes the most sense to me. It’s got a cool design and there aren’t many characters that uses arrows in their arsenal, basically just the Links and Pit. Plus, his Flying type would give him really strong recovery, most comparable to Charizard’s. For his Final Smash, give him Zelda’s FS from Brawl, a giant arrow that KO’s everyone in a straight line.

8) The Eeveelutions from Pokemon

If you like Pokemon, odds are good that you like at least one of the Eeveelutions. Espeon’s my favorite Pokemon ever, and Jolteon, Umbreon, and Sylveon are up there too. And there’s eight Eeveelutions at the moment (not counting Eevee) and eight alternate costume spots for each character, so here’s what I’m thinking. You reveal the Eeveelutions in the next Direct, and put up a poll on the Smash website: Who is your favorite Eeveelution? The winner of the poll is the default character, while everyone else are the alt costumes. This does mean that the Eeveelutions will have to be virtually identical, but that shouldn’t be too hard, a Flamethrower can look like a Hydro Pump, a Thunderbolt, a Psyshock, etc. with some small cosmetic changes. And their Final Smash could either be similar to Mega Man’s where everyone joins in for a giant combined attack, or if you wanna get cartoony, have them get into a big dust cloud fight with other Eeveelutions joining in before the victim gets launched offscreen by it. Plus with Let’s Go Pikachu and Eevee coming soon, it’s a great time to give Eevee’s family some love

7) Black Shadow from F-Zero

You know me, I love F-Zero GX more than I love three square meals a day, and at the moment, there’s barely any Smash representation for the GREATEST RACING GAME OF ALL TIME, so let’s change that. Samurai Goroh is already an Assist Trophy, so how about Falcon’s other main rival, Black Shadow? Taking a quick look at him, he’s obviously a big, strong character which makes him well-equipped to be in a fighting game. But taking a second look at him will make you chuckle, because he’s kinda goofy looking. He’s wearing a full-body black spandex suit, with bull horns, cloven feet, and a cape. Yea, he’s a sadistic monster in the games and the anime, but still he’s a little hard to take seriously. And that can work in his advantage. In Nintendo Directs, they like to use villains that you can kinda take the piss out of in certain places, like Dedede, Wario, and surely in the future, K. Rool. Black Shadow can exist in a similar role, and maybe the four can form some evil alliance if they decide to make Subspace Emissary 2. (Please make Subspace Emissary 2.) His Final Smash can be identical to Falcon’s, hit your opponent with the Black Bull, works just fine. Plus, maybe a new F-Zero character could build hype for a new game in the series? Please?

6) Paper Mario

I’m not sure why some people want Paper Mario to be Mario’s EF? Wasn’t the point of Mario and Luigi: Paper Jam to show how different those two are? Anyway, Paper Mario has a bevy of ways to attack that would help him stand apart from his 3-dimensional counterpart. His standard attack can involve his hammer (which Mario doesn’t have), with the directional standards involving various badges like the Hammer Throw and the Ice Smash. His special attacks can use his various buddies. Parakarry can be his recovery, Vivian can be a Down-B defense tool, you could even use Thoreau as his throwing mechanic. And the final Smash could involve one of the realistic items from the new games, like the electric fan blowing all the opponents offscreen. I don’t know much about the newer games, they didn’t look as good.

5) Shadow the Hedgehog

This is another one that COULD be an Echo Fighter, but Shadow plays pretty differently to Sonic in their games. He skates instead of runs, he uses weapons whereas Sonic just uses his speed, Shadow has a FUCKING GUN, there’s plenty that you can do with Shadow to separate him from Sonic. Particularly involving his Final Smash, Chaos Control. When it’s used, everyone on screen freezes for ten seconds. In that time, Shadow can use one heavy attack after another after another, and when the time runs out, all the damage and force from those attacks hit at once, and that character will go flying. It’d be kinda like Link’s Stasis from Breath of the Wild (which should be Link’s FS, but oh well)

4) Spring Man from Arms

So, Arms wasn’t as big of a hit as people were hoping. That’s a bummer, it looks like a fun game. How about we give it one last shot in the arm (teehee) to try to boost its exposure? Put Spring Man in the game, and have him focus on long-range attacks and throws. His recovery can be a long whip that grabs ledges like Olimar’s. And for his Final Smash, give him a big winding tornado throw that KOs whoever he grabs and damages anyone who gets hit by the swinging arms in the process. Show what he can do in Smash, and maybe it’ll entice people to see what he can do in Arms. I just want that game to be successful.

3) Rayman

I was shocked that Rayman didn’t get into Smash WiiU, since it seems like Nintendo and Ubisoft have been on great terms for a long time, like how Rayman Origins and Legends ended up on Nintendo consoles when it had almost no third-party support. Rayman even had a trophy in WiiU, so it was really surprising to me that he wasn’t one of the DLC characters. Let’s fix that. His unattached limbs would give him some good range, he’d have some magic that he could use at his disposal for special attacks. And for his Final Smash, how about summoning a swarm of mosquitoes to fly across the screen, doing massive damage with each hit, like a super-powered version of the Beedrills from Smash 64?

2) Geno from Super Mario RPG

I’m not a huge Final Fantasy guy, but I’m so glad Cloud got into Smash WiiU/3DS, because it throws the door wide open for other Square characters. A lot of people think this will lead to Sora from Kingdom Hearts getting in (doubtful), but I want Geno to finally get in. He did get an outfit for the Mii Gunner in the last game, but seeing him actually in Smash, not just as a Mii, would be so great. Mario RPG is criminally underrated, and it laid the groundwork for the Paper Mario and the Mario & Luigi games. He’d, of course, be a long range fighter, using his finger cannons as his main attacks, and for his Final Smash: the Geno Flash, which would be like a combination of Pit’s and Jigglypuff’s FS. You’d go offscreen and aim a point on the map. From that epicenter, a giant blast grows, trapping and damaging anyone who gets in the blast radius, before launching those victims off the stage.

Honorable Mentions (Echo Fighters)

Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat brought Funky Kong back into the fold, and he’s got a very similar body type to Donkey Kong, so that makes perfect sense to me.

Hyrule Warriors could use a representative, and since Midna’s already an Assist Trophy, how about Impa? She’s got a great look and could borrow Sheik’s moveset quite well.

I never bought Wart as an Echo Fighter, since the characters he was usually attached to (Bowser or Dedede) didn’t feel similar enough. But K. Rool, on the other hand, fits just right. K. Rool looks like a caricature of Wart.

People seem to like Xenoblade Chronicles 2, so let’s add to the Xenoblade cast in Smash. I don’t know a lot about Rex, besides his goofy pants, but I’m sure he’d be a great fit.

This might seem odd, but how about Andy from Advance Wars as an Echo to Bowser Jr.? Andy could ride in a tank and shoot projectiles while using the turret as a short-range melee attack? Could work.

1) Sans and Papyrus from Undertale

No, but could you imagine?

1) Crash and Coco Bandicoot

This would be the kind of Internet breaking character that you put as the last character added to give one final hype boost to the already unstoppable Smash hype train. The N. Sane Trilogy is already out on Switch, so the publishers already have their foot in the door, so let’s just go for it. And as an added bonus, you could announce Coco Bandicoot at the same time (like Simon and Richter) for added excitement. (I would absolutely main as Coco.) Their standard attacks could revolve around their spin attacks, while their specials would involve using their various powerups like the fruit bazooka and the belly flop. And the Final Smash would involve using Aku Aku to turn invincible for a brief time. Yes, they’re kinda doing away with that kind of FS, maybe they could make a cutscene out of it and cause an instant KO or something. I don’t know, just gimme Crash in Smash, please.

#super smash ultimate #smash characters

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flowerpotphil · 6 years

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Sleepless (1/2)

Summary: Phil is at an all time low, when a new 24 hour coffee shop opens he's more than happy to stay the night there. While he's there, he meets the new night worker - Daniel. Phil needs a job. The coffee shop is hiring. But what about when unspoken feelings mix with sadness? And will it ever work between them? AO3 3491 Words Phil Lester was a somewhat self-proclaimed coffee addict. He needed coffee at absurd times, and only drank certain brands. He loved his coffee more than most things in life, and living directly near a coffee shop certainly helped feed his addiction. Being 19 with absolutely no idea what to do with his life wasn't fun, all his friends has glided into new lives, most going to uni in different parts of the country, and he was just stuck. His parents weren't fussed. Actually, he was glad he had such supportive parents, they knew his problem and they didn't pester him about going and getting a job or going to uni; he was pretty fortunate. But even the most lovely parents couldn't take the pressures of life off of his shoulders. It caused sleepless night after sleepless night, and the only thing Phil could do was go out and get a caffeine boost to ready him for the next day. He knew he looked like shit, he knew that the shadows under his eyes contrasted his pale skin so much that he looked ghostly, but he couldn't do a thing to change it. People commented about how bad he was looking, so he kept to going out at night.

There was rain lining the pavement on the way to the coffee house, but it didn't prevent Phil from making his way there. It had been shut for a few days as it needed more staff - Phil wouldn't be able to keep his composure around all the coffee so it was pointless him applying - and it was open again that night. Whoever was working was probably going to be moody, not that that was an issue for Phil, he never cared. To his surprise, the worker was about his age. The boy had curly brown hair; a prominent dimple on his cheek; and deep brown eyes, he was staring into space and didn't notice Phil standing in the doorway with rain dripping off of him until the door shut. The click seemed to bring him to life, he shot upright and looked directly at Phil. "Hi! We don't usually get people in at this time, what brings you here?" "I just needed some coffee." Phil held out a £5 note and the boy pushed his hand back. "It's on me. Are you okay?" He asked, eyes all over Phil as if he was trying to pick him apart. "I'm good, can I get an Americano please?" The boy didn't say anything else for a bit, he just shuffled over to the huge coffee machine and began making the drink. He had his back to Phil when he spoke next, "You don't seem okay. If you were, you wouldn't have come out in this." And as if on cue, a lighting bolt struck somewhere in the distance. "I'm Daniel, by the way. Everyone just calls me Dan." He smiled when handing over the mug of coffee, and something sparked inside of Phil. "I'm Phil." It was quite awkward, but what else could he have said? Phil nodded and took the mug of coffee to a booth near the window, he knew Dan was looking over at him. Something inside him wanted to gulp the coffee down and run for it, but when he noticed Dan staring into space again his heart skipped a beat slightly. Phil had never really fell in love before, and he told himself this isn't the time for it. Dan didn't even know him. It took Phil 45 minutes to finish his coffee and stand up, Dan was back to staring into space and tapping his nails on the counter. They weren't exactly short, but not long either, and they made a nice sound when they tapped on the black marble. Phil wondered what he was thinking about, and whether he was aware of his surroundings. Choosing not to disturb Dan, Phil stretched and left, leaving his mug on the table. When he briefly looked back inside, he saw Dan's bright eyes looking out at him, then he saw Dan giving a little wave. He nodded, then looked at the floor and went home, his family would all be tucked up in bed and wouldn't even care that he'd have gone out. Actually, they seemed to care less and less with each passing day. Phil collapsed into bed, hands shaking from the caffeine surge in his veins, and for the first time in forever he cried. He cried for his childhood, for his lost friends. He cried for his life, and lack of a plan. He cried because he was keeping so much of himself a secret from his family. The butterflies he felt when he was looking into the dammed eyes of the coffee shop worker, he never once got when he looked at a woman. Phil hated the shame, eventhough he knew that it was just a thing some people felt - he just wondered why it had to be him. His parents and brother thought they knew him inside out and upside down, but they talked about him getting a girlfriend when he joined them at the dinner table. Phil couldn't admit that it was never going to happen, not even to himself. Unknowingly, he dropped off to sleep in the early hours of the morning

.When he woke up it was nearly 10am, his parents had gone to work and it left him all alone. His eyes were sticky with unwiped tears and his head was clouded with a steady ache - whether that was from sleeping too much, exhaustion, or crying, he wasn't quiet sure. His curtains casted a green glow around his room with the sunlight behind them, there was a layer of dust on the rail and Phil couldn't remember the last time he opened his curtains. He didn't want the world to see him. He knew what everyone thought of him: a lonely, sad, childish 19 year old with no aspirations or want to stand on his own two feet. Although it looked that way, it wasn't like that at all. Phil was struggling. The world seemed too fast paced and it scared him, his friends had been so excited to leave and go off to university, and he had no idea what he wanted with his life. Every time he looked at university courses, they were overwhelmingly difficult to navigate and there were so many options. Asking for help scared him too. So Phil became caught up in a predicament. He wasn't lazy, just scared.

When his family started to arrive home at 6 PM, Phil had already eaten a stale slice of bread (no one had been to the supermarket yet, it was all he had) and some left over pizza so that he wouldn't have to socialise with anyone. His mum arrived home first, she was on the phone to someone and Phil strained his ears to hear what she said. "Yes Karen, I know I need to make him pay rent... He's my son, I don't want to turn him away!"He tensed up. Karen was his friend, Anna's, mum. Anna had gone off to study physiotherapy at uni, she hoped Phil would follow her and study English Language as he always wanted to. He'd lied to her and said he applied but he didn't get in. In actual fact, he didn't even apply - just photoshopped the letter Anna had sent a photo of acknowledging her application. Forging the rejection letter was too hard, so Phil pretended that he'd ripped it up out of pure anger and horrific shame. That's what caused Anna to come with bags of chocolates and sweets, coupled up with a few rental DVDs. Guilt ate Phil alive as he curled up on his bed with Anna, her eyes glued to the movie 'Love, Simon' as it played on TV. It would've been the perfect time to come out to her, but he missed it. That night, Anna left none the wiser. "Karen, leave it. Phil is loved here, job or no job, so drop the subject already." Phil was snapped out of his nostalgia to hear his mum abruptly put the phone down on her friend. She sighed after, and Phil swallowed his fear to go and see her. It had been a while since they'd spoken

."Mum?" He put his head around the door frame, tentatively checking if she was there. "Hello sweetie, are you okay?" Phil wanted to say no. He wanted to break down and cry to his mum about all that had happened in his mind, that he couldn't get out of an ever growing hole he was digging himself into. "Yeah, I'm good. Are you?" Idiot. "Of course. You didn't hear me on the phone did you? Oh Philly I'm so sorry, you know what she's like! Anna always used to complain about her when she visited and I can really see why. You're my son and I'm not forcing you to do anything in this state." "I know mum, I'm trying, I'm sorry." "I know you are, I'm here for you. I know you're going through some stuff right now, but I'm your mum and I'll support you no matter what." "Thanks mum..." It drifted into silence with neither of them knowing what to do next. Phil just gave a smile, nodded, then headed off back to his room. It was tiring to be around people, but it wasn't tiring to be around the boy from the coffee shop. Not that they had really met properly, and it was probably the caffeine surging through his veins.

Yet again, it was midnight and Phil couldn't switch his mind off. Why didn't he tell him own mother? He wanted to tell her that he was gay, and that he had no clue what he was doing with his life. She'd understand. His brother understood that Phil was gay, he just happen to look on his phone and saw a gallery of shirtless men - it made for an awkward conversation, Phil tried to attack Martyn to get him off of the subject. After they'd spoken, and Phil was all cried out, his brother hugged him close and reassured that he'd always be supportive. Then, Phil got onto another train of thought. The coffee shop boy. It wasn't a decision, more of an impulse, but he pulled a grey hoodie over his bare chest and left his tartan pyjama bottoms on to go and get himself some coffee. He didn't really want it, but Daniel would hopefully be working and it'd be a familiar face. All he wanted was a familiar face. He was sure.

The click of the door was partnered with a bell as Phil walked in, but he barely noticed it as he saw Daniel with a tear streaked face. "Dan? Why are you crying?" The professional nature of him was gone, he just stood behind the counter with his body shaking and heaving occasionally. He looked shockingly different to how Phil met him the night before; the boy who looked like such a dreamer had been torn down and stomped on until he was a crumpled heap on the floor. It really was the dramatic. "Hey, hey, it's okay." Phil bypassed the counter and went to the gap that acted as a door for the baristas, "I'm here." It wasn't a usual occurrence for Phil to initiate a hug between him and anyone, but an instinct took over and made him wrap his arms around Dan. When he felt Dan relax against his chest it was like they were naturally fitting together. "My family... I told them..." His voice was edged with pain, it was raspy and croaky all at once, "I told them that I like... like boys and girls. And they hate me. I hate me." "Is there anything else?" "Too much... For one, I love a guy who'd never give me the second glance." "Let's go have a seat."Phil let Daniel talk, and cry, but he'd worn himself out after an hour. "I'm really tired..." His voice trailed as his head lulled forward slightly. "Get some sleep, I'll man the fort." Phil gave a smile and patted Dan's curls as he passed by - they were as soft as he dreamed they would be, giving under the pads of his fingers. He didn't account for how difficult the coffee machine looked to work, it was red and spanned the length of an entire work surface, 4 tubes stuck out of the front and there was a grid to catch the waste underneath it all. A white, stained towel was folded neatly next to it and it clearly hadn't been used for the night. There was a poster lying on the stool that the baristas would sit at in slow times during the days. 'Night workers wanted, apply now!' Phil looked up at Daniel, he was sleeping sweetly on the brown loveseat with his feet tucked underneath a cream cushion. His chest rose and fell rhythmically and his lips were set in a little smile. He looked cute. Kind of. Kind of very cute. To work alongside him would be absolutely amazing, it'd be like a dream come true. That dream was within touching distance, it really really was.To see if the machines worked easily, Phil fixed him and Dan a coffee, just like he'd seen the baristas do it time and time again. He didn't plan for the steaming pipe to be so loud, so he cringed as it made a noise and jolted Dan awake. "Phil?" He rubbed his eyes to help him wake up more. "Sorry, I just wanted to see if I could do it." That made Dan sit upright quickly and grin at Phil - contradictory to his prior state. "You're thinking of applying here?! Oh, please!" "You think we'd work the same shifts?" "Yes! I know!" Within moments, Dan was next to Phil showing him how the machines worked and what each different drink needed. He grabbed the canister of squirty cream and used it on Phil's head, creating a swirl on his black hair. Phil let out a high pitched sound as it was happening, shaking chocolate powder over his uniform to try at deter Dan from messing up his hair even more. "Get off of me!" Phil yelled, trying to run from Dan, who had a firm grip on his arm and his hand in Phil's hair. "Stop rubbing it in!" They were both giggling and stumbling around, tripping over each others feet as they moved. Phil; he was actually happy, even so far as elated, in that moment.

As Phil walked Dan home, having waited until his shift had finished, it began to drizzle with rain. Dan took his apron from around his waist and held it up, holding one side of it over Phil's head and the other above his own until Phil took hold of the one side. "Soon, I won't have to do this, you'll have your own apron." Dan was grinning at Phil, the usually light morning was grey and gloomy so there was no one to hear him say it. "I'll put in a good word for you, obviously." "I'll call at 8, don't underestimate me." Phil returned his smile, it had been a while since he'd had such a good time with someone. "Shouldn't you get some sleep? You've been with me all night." "I don't sleep much." "Why?" "I'm sorry I better be going." It was blunt, but Phil panicked. He was a mess and Dan was never going to find out. Neither was he going to find out that Phil had fallen for him. Complicated, hurt and frightened, Phil wasn't much more than that in his eyes. Dan would run a mile if he saw the real Phil, but he was the best person Phil had ever met and he didn't to lose him. He felt slightly pathetic - he barely knew Dan yet he had become so attached, yet Phil felt Dan had a secret too. With time, maybe he'd know. There was a delightful surprise in Phil's pocket, Dan had scribbled down his phone number on a napkin while he was in the toilet, when they were playing he'd slipped it into the back pocket of Phil's jeans. Dan thought he was being sly, getting his hand pressed on Phil's ass, even if it was through fabric and paper, it still counted. Obviously. When he got home, Phil took his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and heard a crinkling sound as he brought it out. He pulled a face, hoping it was nothing important, and took it out. Scanning over the napkin in his hand, a smile came over Phil. "Silly boy." He mused, then he sat down on his bed, taking his phone and adding the number to his contacts. There was one question Phil had: what did this mean? Just a few streets away, Dan flopped onto his duvet and let out a huge sigh. He kept checking his phone to see if Phil had possibly sent him a message, he even said he wouldn't be sleeping. He contemplated staying up to hear from his new friend, but sleep was dragging at his eyelids and shadowing him. When morning came, Dan woke up to a message from Phil: Nice one, leaving your number in my pocket :p I hope this doesn't wake you up.. It made him smile, Phil was an awkward guy and that was quite endearing. He looked over at his alarm clock, it read 7:37 and the message had been sent at 5:59. It made Dan feel a little bit guilty, Phil was probably scared of him not replying. I was too dead for u to ever wake me up. I hope ur sleepin, wait, I hope ur calling my manager. Their typing styles were quite different, Dan used more text-talk while Phil was much more refined. The reply came in within an instant. Phil: It's not 8 yet! Sorry I ran off yesterday, things are just difficult. Dan: Do u wanna talk? I'm on shift tonight, or u can come over, no one's here. or stay for a while, my family are gone for a week. When he pressed send, Dan instantly regretted it. Asking Phil to stay over was too eager, he'd just met the man and he had an awfully big crush on him. It was a bad idea. Phil wouldn't ever have eyes for Dan, he probably thought he was a stupid young kid who'd clung to him while he tried to get some coffee. Phil: I’d love to stay at yours.. When do you want me to come over?

An hour later, Phil was packing his backpack full of clothes and his toiletries for a few days. He was smiling to himself for the first time in forever, and it wasn't forced either. He was genuinely happy.

There was a harsh knock on the door. "Come in!" Phil called, his voice bright for once. "Hey Ph- Wait, what's going on?" It was his dad, his eyes were round as he looked at the rolled up clothes he was packing. "Are you leaving?" "I'm just going to stay with a friend for a few days, he lives a few streets away." "Have I met him? You never said." "No dad. Neither has mum, but he's just a friend." "Just a friend, eh?" It made Phil look at his dad, he was leaning up the door frame with his arms crossed. "Sure." "What's that supposed to mean?" "Karen told me that Anna knows something about you. And other men." Time froze. Anna wouldn't have done it maliciously, Phil knew her mum would often check her phone, so that's how Karen found out. "Let me leave." Phil said, his voice low, head bowed, as he grabbed his backpack off his bed. "I'll talk to mum later," "Not so fast. You need to talk to her now. Shes in a state." "I don't really care, just let me go." It was a lie, Phil really did care about his mum, he was just in a sheer frantic state. And that was when his mum appeared behind his dad. "Is it true Phil?" She pressed. "Yes. Now, I really need to go, Dan's waiting." "Who's Dan?" Great. He'd dropped himself in it with no easy way of getting out. Apart from one. "He's a coworker. Okay? He lives by the place, so he's showing me the ropes. I'm doing the night shifts, so to save me coming all the way back here he's letting me stay on his couch. So please, let me fucking leave." He pushed between his parents and jogged down the stairs, getting out the door quicker than he's ever done before. At least he had Dan.

#phanfiction #phan #dan and phil #phan fluff #phandom #dan howell #phil lester #katwrites #sleepless #dnp

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otherpeoplesheartachept-2 · 6 years

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A Not-So-Classic Fairy Tale

(Carry On Countdown Day 14)

(SnowBaz)

Length: 1,607 words

Genre: fairy tale, ???

Trigger Warnings: There’s some alcohol use but not like black out drunk or anything

(Ok so I feel like I need to explain for this to make sense; it’s like Beauty and the Beast but Agatha is Belle, Simon is Gaston, and Baz is Lefou Ok? Ok.)

Once upon a time, in the far away land of Watford, where magic and curses and dragons were real, there lived a girl. Her name was Agatha. She was beautiful and fair. She had long blonde hair, and stunning green eyes. Her magic was clean and pretty, it resembled daisy’s in a field and pink, soft velvet. Practically all the men (and some of the women) in the quaint village wished she were theirs. Especially a certain lad by the name of Simon Snow.

Simon was golden. The town was as infatuated with him as they were with Agatha. Though he had started life as a poor orphaned child with nothing to his name, he quickly became a favorite among the townsfolk. He was a hero, strong, powerful, and full of heart. He had bronze hair and tan skin; a galaxy of moles and freckles. His magic was explosive, like green smoke. It felt like a super-nova: too much all at once and impossible to control.

It made sense, in a classic fairy tale sort of way, that the pair would end up together. The hero boy and the pretty maiden girl. But Simon had been chasing her for a while. Presenting her with flowers, showing off his sword tricks, talking to her about how adorable their children would be.

None of it worked however. Agatha, though there was probably not an accurate term for it at the time, was Aromantic. She had no intentions of settling down with Simon Snow; in fact, she had no intentions of settling down with anyone. Agatha wished she could hide away somewhere else, with only her father and her best friend, Penelope.

Unfortunately Simon was completely oblivious to Agatha’s feelings. But he was oblivious to a lot of things. Including his own feelings at times. The biggest thing he over looked thought, was Basilton, his friend. Their relationship had started with hate, Basilton coming from a wealthy family in Egypt and Simon being an orphan and caused many disputes between the boys.

Now, Basilton was Simon’s most loyal companion and trusted friend. He was tall with long black hair, usually pulled into a small pony tail, and had dark skin. His magic swift and graceful, he loved using fire. Basilton, did not fit well into the perfect fairy tale story arc however. He had more than platonic feelings for Simon. Basilton repressed these emotions because he knew that stories never end with the price and the price. He also knew his friend was head over heels in love with Agatha (and he was fairly certain Simon Snow was not interested in other men).

One fateful day, Simon had proposed to Agatha. He’d asked Basilton to help set up something magical, literally. The ‘show’ was spectacular. It consisted of roses and fireworks, a whole orchestra, and a heart of fire with Simon in the center holding a ring. Agatha was more interested in the spell Basilton had used for the fireworks than the ring in Simon’s hand. She, as kindly as she possibly could, refused his offer of marriage, and retreated to her cottage.

Simon, left in the aftermath of his confession with nothing to show for his effort, felt distraught. He didn’t understand why Agatha didn’t love him. He didn’t understand why things weren’t working out like he always thought they would. Defeated, he sulked to the town square and decided ale might help his mood. As he sat on a stool, Basilton spotted him.

“So… how did it go…? Eh? Should I write the minister? Request he arrive early tomorrow?” Basilton nudged his friend, surely the pair would be happily wed within the week. He pushed his personal opinions of that away and focused on being a supportive friend. If Simon was happy, Basilton could be happy.

“Cut it out, will ya?” Simon, sighed, feeling as if salt was being rubbed in his wound, even though he knew the mans intentions were pure.

“Aw, why Snow, did the golden girl turn you down?” He inquired, half mockingly, half confused/concerned.

“Yes, she did so can you please drop it?” Basilton’s playful smile instantly dropped.

“Oh Simon-” he sat next the other man, “-I had no idea, I’m sorry I would not have said that i-”

“It’s fine Baz, how were you to know?” Simon leaned into his companion as Basilton put a comforting arm around him. “I mean what’s wrong with me? Huh Basilton? Is it my looks, my magic? She rejected me. Humiliated me. Why?”

“Snow. It disturbs me to see you like this, “He turned to face the other man, “looking so down and distraught.” He took his shoulders, “look around-” Basilton gestured to the others in the bar, “Every guy here would love to be you Snow. Even if your magic is a mess.“ He teased.

“Everyone’s inspired by you, you’re the towns favorite guy.” Basilton stood up. “Honestly Agatha must be blind, ‘cause it’s not hard to see why.” Simon smiled at his friends attempt to cheer him up.

“Basilton, you can stop.” He pressed the darker mans shoulder.

“Stop!? Preposterous, I won’t hear of it!” Simon blushed. “Look at you! Bronze skin, blue eyes, no ones compares to your looks!”

“Seriously Baz, enough” This only made Basilton get louder.

“Your magic is unmatched! Your sword skills impeccable! Not to mention your punches!” He playfully hit Simon's arms. Basilton was on the verge of shouting and Simon, with the help of alcohol, decided to let loose.

“As a specimen, yes, I’m intimidating!” He mockingly declared and took a bow.

“My, what a guy!” Basilton gestured to his friend, the whole bar now paying attention to the popular, if not odd, pair.

“Simon Snow is the best!” He exclaimed. “And the rest are a mess.” He whispered to Simon.

Basilton continued lavishing his companion with compliments, trying to boost his confidence and also finally expressing some of his feelings inadvertently. The pair becoming more obnoxious and drunk as time passed. Basilton ended his stream of flattering remarks with,

“And his name’s” He drawled, “S-I-M-O-N S-wait.” He giggled, leaning on Simon for support. “What’s nest-next? S-O-W-N…? No no s-w… whatever. Simon Snow!!” And everyone cheered.

As the intoxicated pair laughed with each other, Simon remembered why Basilton was trying to cheer him up and became upset again.

“Basilton, thank you, but all this boost-boo-boosting my self-esteem isn’t gonna make Agatha love me. Face it, no one will love me.” Simon sunk into a chair.

“Now Snow,” Basilton whispered in the crowded room. “We know that isn’t true.”

“You can stop lying to make me feel better, Basilton.” Simon’s head hung.

“Snow, you could have anyone in this world you want, stop being so hung up on Wellbelove.”

“I know, I know it’s dumb I just-” Simon stopped, staring into Basilton’s gray eyes.

During the mage’s dramatic telling of Simon’s likable traits, the boy had realized some things.

At first he realized how lucky was to have Basilton as a friend, he was willing to make a fool of himself in public just to cheer Simon up.

Then he realized that no matter how many things Basilton found to praise him, Simon was still not good enough for Agatha, and he would never be as good as Basilton. Sure Simon was popular and ‘the most powerful magician alive’ but he couldn’t control his magic and he stuttered. Basilton however, was flawless in practically everything. His magic was powerful and controlled. His fighting skills, be it fencing, boxing, you name it, were refined and breathtaking to watch. In fact, Simon realized, everything about his friend Basilton was breathtaking. His tall figure, gorgeous hair, dark skin, even his quick wit and sarcastic comments made Simon envy him all the more.

Until, Simon came to his third and last realization: He had feelings for Basil, romantic feelings. At first he thought is absurd, Simon had never found himself attracted to another male, but as he thought on it more, it made a lot of sense to him. So when his friend had finished his ‘performance’ of sorts Simon realized there were now two people he had wanted that he could never have.

“Anyone you say?” Simon asked with a sliver of hope buried under miles of doubt.

Basilton unsure of where he was going with this reassured, “Yes Snow, anyone.”

Timidly, yet characteristically brave, Simon asked in a low voice, “A-any one? Even, even yo-you?”

Basilton looked into the eyes of the boy he longed for, sure that this was his drunk mind play tricks on him. He touched the smaller boys chin, rubbing his thumb over his favorite mole. Basilton didn’t understand how the great Simon Snow could want him, but he wasn’t lying when he said the boy could get anyone.

Slowly, carefully, Basilton leaned in until their foreheads were touching. “Yes, Simon, especially me.” And with that Simon Snow was kissing Basilton Pitch.

The men had started courting each other. It was awkward at first, with the town being a little disappointed the Golden Pair wasn’t as “meant to be” as previously thought, yet they weren’t exactly surprised at the news of Basilton and Simon.

Eventually Basilton did write the minister, this time to officiate his own marriage to Simon Snow, not Agatha’s.

Eventually, Agatha did hide away with Penelope. She had had enough of the small town and their small ways, so she decided to leave. Her and her closest friend traveled until they came upon an old enchanted castle, but that is another story, for another time.

And so they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

I have a lot of things to say in this authors note. 1st can we all admit that the scene in Beauty and the Beast where Gastons friend (Lefou) does a whole musical number to cheer up his friend is a little gay. Like just a little bit gay. 2nd This was all me just shamelessly plugging my hc that Agatha is aroace. 3rd adding on to that, can we have more classic style fairy tales with a-spectrum main characters? Please?4th I’m sorry for the cheesy title but I can’t think of anything better. 5th I’m actually proud of myself for this plot idea and this is the most I’ve written so far for any countdown prompt. Ok I think that’s all sorry for my rambling.

#day 14 #coc 2017 #carry on countdown 2017 #carry on countdown #carry on #carry on fanfic #fanfiction #snowbaz #fairy tale #fairy tale retellings #snowbaz fanfiction #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #beauty and the beast #gaston #lefou

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the-real-xmonster · 7 years

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I’ve got a couple of questions and messages asking me what I think of the British Eurosport commentary on Yuzuru’s free skate at CoR.

These, I assume, are the comments of interest:

“The last minute I thought was brilliant. He has something that’s both a blessing and a curse. He has a really great knee action, which makes everything look very easy. But part way through the program it looked almost casual.

“Shoma Uno, who we will see next week at Skate Canada, his program is so jam-packed with content that it looks much more intense throughout. It will be interesting to see how the judges’ component scores will reflect that.”

“Yuzuru, as an Olympic champion, he is considered to be a 9 out of 10 at least component skater. Whereas, Shoma doesn’t have that Olympic title behind him to help him.”

The commentator was Mark Hanretty, ex-ice dancer, two-time British bronze medalists.

Boys, don’t I have questions for him.

Are you, sir, aware that you are commentating on a program skated by Yuzuru Hanyu at the Cup of Russia? And why do you refuse so to cooperate with poor Simon when he tried so hard to redirect you back to the matter at hand? Have you no thought for your partner?

How is great knee action, by any stretch of the imagination, a curse? Rhythmic, soft and supple knee bend is one of the defining and crowning qualities of Yuzuru’s skating skills. It is the core element from which he draws his speed, his flow, his graceful delivery, not to mention his elegant jump landing slash miraculous saving. I wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to correct a Scottish gentleman on his usage of English, but may I suggest the adjective effortless as a substitute to your description of casual?

Would you please tell me what kind of content Shoma’s programs are jam-packed with? Quads? More quads? 2 quads in the short? 5 quads in the free? Variety of quads? Because, aside from the quantity of quads, I honestly couldn’t find any other highlight from his two programs as shown at Lombardia, unless it’s another quantity, that of his crossovers.

Does Shoma need an Olympic title to help him? No I wouldn’t think so, when I see a skater consistently getting 9+ in SS and near 9 for TR after skating on two feet for most of their programs’ duration, I’d say they are doing pretty well and aren’t in any dire need of any boost to their reputation.

On Yuzuru’s component score, again, forgive my presumption, but how about making your comment more succinct by putting it this way: Yuzuru, as an Olympic champion, he is considered to be a 9 out of 10 at least component skater. There you go sir, that’s a much better statement, much closer to the truth, and it saves you as much as 42% of the word count. Is that not magical?

Looking forward to Mark’s take on Shoma’s performance at Skate Canada. It’s going to be a blast y’all. I also am dying to hear his thoughts on Patrick. Is PChiddy another one cursed by the knee action?

#yuzuru hanyu #replies

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rebeccaheyman · 4 years

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reading + listening 9.29.20

It was another week of soaring highs and middling mediocrity, but fortunately no DNFs. Notably, I’ve been dragging my heels on PIRANESI by Susanna Clarke, which has been sitting on my desk in gorgeous hard cover since release day. You ever want to love a book so much that you’re afraid to actually read it? No, no, me neither. Here’s hoping I get brave this week. In the meantime...

It’s Been a Pleasure, Noni Blake (Claire Christian), eBook ARC (US pub date February 2021). I loved this book so much that I’m already looking forward to owning the aBook once it’s available, just so I can relive the magic in a new way. Here’s my five-star NetGalley review:

I have discovered the antidote to the unmitigated disaster that is the year 2020, and it is IT'S BEEN A PLEASURE, NONI BLAKE. I inhaled this book in under 24 hours and feel soul-satisfied in a way I forgot existed. NONI BLAKE is a rom-com that's so much more than a rom-com; it's as much a character study as LESS and as much a travelogue as WILD, with the sweetness of Mhairi MacFarlane, the delicious heat of Sally Thorne, and the humor of every best friend you've ever gotten drunk with. It is, in a word, perfect.

When I say this book has it all, I am not kidding. In it, you will find: - an average-bodied woman finding sexual empowerment and body positivity - a Scottish book boyfriend for whom you do not need to travel through time - healthy adult friendships - A+ Bechdel Test score - adventurous, consensual sex that is at times hilarious and at other times really, really hot - situational comedy that will legitimately make you laugh out loud - adults who talk openly about their feelings in an authentic, mature way - portrayals of grief that range in severity from mourning the loss of an unborn child to coming to terms with years of self-criticism and negativity - rich, descriptive prose that does not drag down pacing - excellent plotting, perfectly balanced with the protagonist's complex internal journey

...the list goes on. This book is joy exemplified. I can't wait to give it to every woman I know. My only complaint is that the world needs this book immediately to inoculate us against the tidal wave of awfulness bombarding the globe, and yet it won't be released until 2021.

Notably, Australian readers have access to NONI BLAKE as of... today (!), so if you happen to be reading this in Australia, please do yourself a favor and buy this book immediately. And if there’s someone you especially like elsewhere in the world, maybe box up a copy and spread the love.

Act Your Age, Eve Brown (Talia Hibbert), eBook ARC (pub date March 2021). I know, I know -- how many contemporary romcoms with the exact same title structure can I read in a single week? Real answer: 2. But based on how fabulous both these titles were, I’m open to more. Here’s my four-star NetGalley review:

I've decided it's entirely impossible to read the Brown Sisters series without feeling amazing. Hibbert's writing is so smart, funny, and full of A+ banter -- not to mention scorching-hot heat -- that it almost feels like we don't deserve her books' nuances, diverse representations, and patriarchy-shaking feminism.

But we do deserve it, actually, and it's all there in ACT YOUR AGE, EVE BROWN.

If at first Eve seems flighty and difficult to connect with, don't discount the intentionality of her characterization. In a tidy narrative trick, Hibbert gives us the very experience that defines many of Eve's friendships: while the youngest Brown sister may have made a great first impression in Chloe and Dani's books, her flightiness feels off-putting once she takes center stage. But sticking with Eve -- instead of pushing her to the margins of our two-person social circle -- has a massive pay-off, as she soon reveals herself to be intensely focused on helping others, spreading joy, and baking delicious cake. It's a side of Eve too many of her "friends" never get to see -- but Reader, we do. And it turns out, Eve is a wonder.

Many of Eve's quirks align with behaviors on the autism spectrum; while Jacob's autistic presentation is perhaps more conventional, Eve's traits are equally validated by Hibbert's sensitive, nuanced treatment of the disorder. Romance + autism usually means antisocial behaviors, rigidity, and/or Asperger's-like presentation (The Kiss Quotient/Bride Test, The Girl He Used to Know, The Rosie Project... the list goes on). But ACT YOUR AGE explores the all important "spectrum" side of "autism spectrum disorder," and urges us to resist believing we understand what these labels mean just because we understand one small aspect of a very large picture.

All of this happens while a truly compelling, heart-melting romance unfolds. Eve and Jacob are incredibly fun to watch, and Hibbert keeps things moving at a lovely clip. I especially appreciated her resistance to the "h/h have to spend totally unnecessary time apart after an argument/misunderstanding" trope in Act III, which is a convention I would happily see go the way of the dinosaur.

Fair warning to your TBR pile: If you don't reread Chloe and Dani's books prior to picking up ACT YOUR AGE, EVE BROWN, you're going to want to afterward. There's simply no other way to maintain the rosy glow of post-Hibbert reading.

Finally, I'm predicting here and now that Mont, Alex and Tess are the next sibling trio to get the Hibbert treatment. (Please? Like...PLEASE please?)

Set My Heart to Five (Simon Stephenson), aBook (narr. Christopher Ragland, Rachael Louise Miller, Lance C. Fuller). If you combined the signature humor/love combo of David Nicholls, the deeply felt nostalgia of Ready Player One, and the bots-with-feelings hypothesis of Spielburg’s AI, you might come close to understanding what makes SET MY HEART TO FIVE so good. In the year 2054, the world has taken some unexpected turns: humans have accidentally locked themselves out of the internet, Elon Musk blew up the moon (also accidentally), and humanoid bots have been integrated into society as second-class pseudo-citizens. We meet Jared -- bot, dentist, cat-owner -- who has begun to experience curious malfunctions. With a friend’s help, and a heaping dose of old movies, Jared realizes he can feel real emotions. He resolves to journey west to Hollywood, where he’ll write a movie that changes the way humans view bots and paves the way for his bot brothers and sisters to enjoy the full range of human experience.

Jared’s explanations of human behavior provide a satirical commentary on our curious, often contradictory behaviors (”Humans. I cannot!”). Since films from the pre-bot age figure so prominently in Jared’s emotional awakening, that same satirical analysis is applied to movie synopses, which are rendered with necessary frequency but occasionally feel like overkill. The book relies heavily on a lovely trick of narrative reciprocity; Jared is on an archetypal hero’s journey, even as he strives to write a formulaic screenplay according to the “golden rules” of the fictitious script expert, R.P. McWilliams. But SET MY HEART TO FIVE never feels hackneyed, and in more than one way proves the rule that great stories are all in the telling.

With the innocence and clarity that can only come from being something of a stranger in a strange land, Jared embraces his existence with infectious enthusiasm and charm. It’s virtually impossible not to cheer for his success, even as we’re warned again and again that a great story will “eff us in the heart” at its conclusion. Audio is brilliantly narrated by Christopher Ragland, who manages to imbue the bot cadence we expect with believable nuance and big style.

Well Played (Jen DeLuca), aBook (narr. Brittany Pressley). I’ve got bad news for fans of WELL MET: If you wondered whether your enjoyment of Deluca’s ren-faire romcom debut of 2019 was due in large part to the book’s setting -- and more specifically, the way h/h’s interactions at the faire advanced the storyline -- the answer is yes. And why is that bad news, you ask? Well, because WELL PLAYED has none of the crackling Emily/Simon tension that carried the first book through its narrative stumbles. In book 2, the glacially slow Act I relies heavily on Stacy’s recitation of what makes her life humdrum, and a long series of email exchanges we *know* are coming from the conspicuously introduced Daniel -- even though Stacy, apparently suffering a traumatic brain injury, convinces herself it’s idiot playboy (and Daniel’s cousin) Dex. Sorry not sorry for the “spoiler,” which is impossible not to see coming from many miles away. Once this pseudo-conflict is resolved, the book boils down to situational fluff: a wedding, a squeaky mattress, the literal number of pumpkin spice lattes Stacy drinks over the course of a month. If it sounds like this is not a plot, that’s because it isn’t. The romance is low-stakes, the “uncrossable divide” that eventually separates h/h is the width and depth of a puddle, and the last third of the book is pretty much solely devoted to setting up a Mitch/April romance in book 3.

Notably, I found references to Stacy’s body-consciousness extremely strange. If we want to normalize average-sized women in romance, maybe we do that by not including, apropos of literally nothing, how “unflattering” woman-on-top sexual positions are?! Stacy is not characterized by self-consciousness, so the moments when her interiority veers toward self-criticism don’t feel necessary. I’m not saying these aren’t authentic thoughts and feelings plenty of women have, but an editor should have pushed DeLuca to answer the question to what end? Why include body hyperawareness in the precise moments when it appears? Like too much of the prose in WELL PLAYED, these inclusions felt like word-count boosting instead of dynamic character development or plot production. Sad as I am to say it, this book was a missed opportunity that shows the danger of rushing book 2 to market.

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics (Olivia Waite), aBook (narr. Morag Sims). This book has been on my radar since its publication last summer. Gorgeous cover aside, I’m always here for diverse historical romance. Sadly, for me, the external stakes here were simply too low, and relied overmuch on the baffling revelation that men -- especially in this historical moment -- underestimate and undermine women. I never felt discernible chemistry between Lucy and Catherine. This could be due, in part, to Morag Sims’ narration, which pitches Catherine’s voice in a low, husky range that accentuated the women’s age difference. From the outset, we learn that Catherine is the widow of one of Lucy’s father’s colleagues; while Lucy is the more sexually forward woman in this partnership, there’s something a little An Education about the whole arrangement.

On my radar this week:

Piranesi (Susanna Clarke)

A Deadly Education aBook (Naomi Novik)

We Can Only Save Ourselves ARC (Alison Wisdom)

Angel in a Devil’s Arms (Julie Anne Long)

The Project ARC (Courtney Summers)

The Love Square ARC (Laura Jane Williams)

#book review #ebooks #audiobooks #amreading #the lady's guide to celestial mechanics #well played #act your age eve brown #it's been a pleasure noni blake #set my heart to five

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sickdaysofficial · 7 years

Text

Anywhere but here: Ace attorney

Fandom: Ace Attorney

Pairing: Young!Simon Blackquill/Bobby Fullbright

Warning: Vomit

Simon Blackquill probably should’ve taken the day off, but at this point in the case, he felt too invested in it to quit. Besides, as a rookie prosecutor, his reputation needed any and all possible boosts. He felt okay at the start of the day, and the only person to actually realize anything was off was Fullbright.

But as the trial stretched on, he was really starting to regret that decision. He could barely focus on what the witness was saying over the dizziness and pounding in his head, and combined with the nausea, he was pretty sure he was going to either throw up or pass out.

He tried to alert Fullbright, who was the detective in the case, and currently standing right next to him, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

“If you need to tell me something, Mr. Blackquill, you really should wait until the witness is done giving her statement.” Bobby told him. “It would be quite rude to interrupt, and you might miss something important if you do.”

“I need to get out of here; right now.” He replied.

“The judge will call recess soon enough; whatever it is can wait.”

Simon’s stomach decided it couldn’t wait, and as he tried to make it through the witnesses’ statement, the nausea one, and he ended up vomiting all over Fullbright’s shoes. The judge called recess after that.

Knowing he was about to be sick again, Simon dashed off to the men’s room at the first chance he got, heading for the first stall, and not even bothering to close the door before falling to his knees and beginning to heave.

Through the sound of his retching, he could hear the door open, and someone call his name, but he ignored it. Even as the heaves finally ceased, he didn’t move from his position. Instead, he closed his eyes as the sobs of pain and embarrassment wracked his body.

After a minute or so, he felt someone pull him away from the toilet and wipe his mouth with a paper towel, before flushing away the mess. He look up to see Bobby Fullbright; although there really wasn’t anyone else who it could be.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Blackquill, I didn’t mean to upset you.” The detective said. “I guess I could tell something was off with you, but since you usually say something, I just ignored it.”

“Simon.”

“Huh?”

“You can call me Simon when we’re not in court.”

“I guess you can call me Bobby if you want.” The detective smiled. “Come on, Mr. Bla-I mean Simon; I’m taking you home!”

“But, the trial.” He muttered. “What’s going to happen now?”

“Well, since you’re in no condition to prosecute it, I’m going to call and have them send somebody else to take your place.” Bobby told him. “I’ll do that once we get outside, are you all done throwing up?”

Simon nodded. “For now, at least. And, sorry about your shoes.”

“Its fine, Simon, it wasn’t your fault; you were sick.” The detective told him. “Can you stand on your own, or do you need help?”

“I’m fine. Well, not fine, but I can walk.”

Bobby led him out of the courthouse, and to a bench outside. “Wait here; I’m going to call the prosecutor’s office, and explain the situation; then we can go.”

Bobby left the young prosecutor alone for just a minute, but when he looked back, Simon was no longer on the bench. He looked around for a few seconds, only to find him heaving in the grass nearby. He ended the phone call with a muttered apology, before rushing over to Simon’s aid.

“Feeling better?” He asked as Simon finished and stood up with a groan.

The prosecutor shook his head. “There’s just nothing left in me to throw up. Can you take me home already?”

“Of course, Simon.”

He fell asleep before they even arrived at the space center.

“Simon, wake up; we’re here.” Bobby was shaking him lightly. “Sorry; you’re too heavy to carry, and I don’t know where your apartment is.”

“How long was I out for?” He asked with a groan.

“Not long; only about ten minutes. I know you’re tired, but the sooner we get you back to your apartment, the sooner you can sleep.”

Simon didn’t want to stand up, but he knew he couldn’t sleep in Bobby’s car. He dragged himself out of the vehicle, and to the close by elevator, before scanning the key card that allowed him access to his floor, leaning back against the wall for the duration of the ride.

When they finally got up to the correct floor, Simon quickly unlocked the door of the apartment he shared with Aura, before collapsing on the couch, not having the energy to drag himself to bed

“I’m going to go find out where your sister is.” The detective told him. “But before I do that, do you need anything? Some water? Maybe a blanket?”

Simon nodded. “My room’s the second door on the left. Grab one of the blankets off the bed, would you.”

Bobby nodded, before, running off and coming right back with one of Simon’s blankets (he had quite a few, as Aura refused to turn the heat up above fifty degrees in the winter),and his pillow.

“Thank you.” The prosecutor said before handing over his key card. “You’ll need this if you want to get back up here afterwards. Don’t bother trying to call Aura; she never answers here phone.”

Bobby nodded, before leaving the apartment and closing the door behind him.

Just as Simon was beginning to fall back asleep, Bobby entered the apartment, closing the door a bit louder than necessary.

“It seems your sister cares more about her robots that she does about her own brother.” The detective said in a huff. “She won’t be back until late this evening. But, since I don’t have anything else I need to get done today, I volunteered to keep an eye on you until then. I also talked to Ms. Cykes; she says you probably caught the bug her daughter had, but not to worry, because its only a twenty-four hour thing. Do you need anything, or would you just like to sleep?”

“Water, then sleep.” He muttered.

Bobby nodded, before heading into the kitchen, and coming back with a glass of water and a small trash bin. He placed the bin next to the couch, and handed the glass of water to Simon, who drank it gratefully. After finishing about half the glass, he handed it back.

“Would you like me to turn off the lights?” Bobby asked him.

Simon nodded. “Yes please.”

The detective shut off the overhead light, and closed the blinds. “Get some rest, Simon; you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Simon only gave a groan, before shutting his eyes.

#vomit tw #dizziness #headache #kinda #july 24 2017 #sickdays3 #submission

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aretheyhappy · 5 years

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Customer reviews

Getting a positive review from a satisfied customer is an awesome feeling, isn’t it? What if I told you it could be more than just a great feeling? Customer reviews

A positive review can be a great marketing opportunity to highlight some of the aspects that make your business stand out from the rest. It can inspire people to talk about your business and become loyal customers. Also, by responding to a positive review, you can show current and potential customers that you truly care about the services you provide. So writing a personalised response is definitely worth the effort!

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This first step might seem pretty straight-forward but it definitely deserves your attention. Acknowledging the fact that you appreciate the review and/or visit from your customer is crucial when it comes to responding to positive reviews. The fact that your customer actually took the time to show their appreciation in the form of a review is admirable. Especially when you realize that only about 1% of customers write reviews. And with 97% of customers aged 18-34 reading reviews before visiting a business, this 1.5% can make all the difference!

Keep in mind that some customers also share their negative experiences. So all the more reason to show some love to those who leave positive reviews! Learn more about how to respond to negative reviews here.

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Thank you for the lovely words, Karen. Receiving great reviews like these means the world to us!

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Some examples:

We’re delighted to hear that you enjoyed our risotto, Simon! I’m excited to tell you that we’ve recently added a new butternut risotto to the menu as well!

Nice to hear you liked our Madras curry, Mo! Next time you come by, you may want to try our Vindaloo!

I’m very pleased to hear you loved our lasagna, Jermain. You should definitely try our zucchini lasagna next time! Customer experience

Step 3: Mention the name of your business in your response.

The fact that you get to see the positive review is one thing. But making sure that potential clients can see these amazing comments too is another. By mention your business name in a positive review you increase the likelihood of other customers seeing it when searching for your company. Adding other keywords can also be beneficial when you want to improve your search ranking.

Some examples:

Thanks for the great review, Thomas. Our chefs at [Business Name] are working hard everyday to make sure we provide you with the best [type of dish] in [city name]!

That’s wonderful, Amanda. Our staff at [Business Name] really appreciates your kind words!

Step 4: Add a call to action.

Inviting the reviewer to do something is a great way to finish your response. Think of other items on the menu that might be interesting for the reviewer. You could mention a specific drink that would go perfect with the dish they were so enthusiastic about! Asking the customer to share their review is another way to add a great call to action. Or simply invite them back to your establishment to turn them into return customers!

By doing this, you will not only mobilise the reviewer, but you will also encourage other people who read your response to visit your business.

Some examples:

Thanks a lot, Caroline! Next time, try our mango lassi to go with your butter chicken. It’s a match made in India!

Awesome review, Michael! Looking forward to seeing you again at [Business Name]!

Now that you’re familiar with these guidelines, you want to get responding, I get it. So, to conclude this article, I’ll leave you with some additional remarks:

Be consistent when responding to reviews, i.e try to keep the same tone of voice every time you engage with your customers.

Share great reviews with the whole team to boost employee morale!

Always respond to positive reviews publicly.

Try to respond to the review as soon as (reasonably) possible. A customer won’t really feel like you care about them when you respond months after they posted their review.

Prepare clear guidelines for how best to respond to reviews and update that on a regular basis. Make sure it follows the tips outlined above.

Pro-Tip: Automate the collection of reviews (and messages on social media) to ensure that you never miss a review again! If you want, you can use an app like AreTheyHappy to ensure that you are notified as soon as reviews are posted.

Locaton:- Ghent, Belgium

Read More:- https://www.aretheyhappy.com/

#Customer satisfaction

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elfigmlinkbf16insurance-blog · 5 years

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BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare free quotes :insurancefastfinder.top

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coles little red quote house insurance

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travisandersondatingblog · 6 years

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Is He Cheating on You? Top Signs He Is + What You Can do About it!

You can’t put your finger on it…but something’s just not right in your relationship. Maybe he’s out late without explanation. Texting you less. Acting suspicious. Is he cheating on you?

While I don’t want to be an alarmist, I’ve found that if your gut tells you something, it’s often true. Still, you want to be sure that what your instinct is accurate and that you’re not just being jealous, which is why I created this video.

youtube

I always say that there are three rules for any relationship to be successful:

1. Open your heart and love that person. 2. Trust them when he loves you back. 3. Stop following rules 1 and 2 if he cheats on you.

There’s no gray area in my mind when it comes to cheating. If he’s dating — or even sleeping with — other women when he’s indicated that he’s committed to you, you can never trust him again. He may beg, plead, and apologize, but please believe me: you can’t change spots on a leopard. Taking back a man after finding all the signs a guy is cheating and having clear-cut evidence of it only tells him that it’s okay for him to continue his behavior.

After all…if you took him back once, you’ll do it again, right? That’s his thinking.

So let me save you a lot of heartache. If you’re asking yourself is he cheating, then there’s a pretty good chance he is.

Your Coach,

P.S. Finding out a guy cheated on you can really beat up your self confidence. But don’t let him win! Sign up for my 21 Days of Confidence to get back to your courageous self!

Introduction

Is he cheating? Sometimes the evidence is less obvious.

If you’re a woman who has never been cheated on, congratulations. If you have been cheated on, then you have my sympathies. There’s something so painful about caring about someone — maybe even loving them — and finding out that they haven’t returned that affection and respect.

I know it’s easy to say all men cheat, Adam! but I don’t want you to believe it. Because it’s not true. There are plenty of good guys out there who won’t hurt you…but you have to ditch the cheater before you can find them.

If you’re looking for signs that he is cheating on you, the best thing you can do for yourself is get to the bottom of the situation quickly. If in fact he is cheating, then you need to leave. Like, now.

I’m here to help you preserve your sanity and to minimize the heartache you experience in life and love.

Yes, you will be hurt. But the sooner you can acknowledge that you’re with a cheater, the sooner you can get him out of your life, heal, and move on.

So without further ado, let’s address that question: is he cheating, once and for all.

Sign 1: He Admits it But…It’s Not a Bad Thing

You find a pair of panties that are definitely not yours in the car.

You: Fred, these are not my panties! Are you cheating on me?

Fred: I don’t know that I’d call it cheating…

If it looks like a duck and smells like a duck…

It’s a duck.

If you have seen signs that he is cheating on you, what else could he be doing??

I’ve met guys who legitimately don’t think cheating is a bad thing…as in it’s only bad if you get caught.

One time in a locker room I heard a guy bragging about all of the women he sleeps with…in addition to his girlfriend.

Some men don’t think they’re cheating if sex isn’t involved…but emotions are.

My mother, a divorce attorney, once had a case where the husband had two entirely separate families at the same time. Neither knew about the other. Can you imagine?

What do these dudes have in common? They all genuinely don’t see the issue.

Is He Cheating and Downplaying It?

If your boyfriend makes light of cheating in general or if, when you accuse him, blows it off, this is a red flag. Research on infidelity shows that men with indifferent attitudes about cheating may be more likely to actually cheat. Think about it: which of the following guys would you be more worried about cheating on you?

Fred: What’s the big deal? If you’re not married, you can’t cheat.

Ted: I can’t imagine lying to someone and having a second relationship!

If you know he’s been hanging out with other women in a way that is not friends-only (and he’s been trying to hide it), there’s something wrong. But confronting him won’t get you far because he doesn’t think he’s doing anything bad. Rather than trying to fix him, move on.

Sign 2: He Actually Tells You About the Other Woman

Is his work wife something more?

Sounds shocking, but your man might actually tell you about The Other Woman if you listen closely.

Maybe he talks more and more about his “Work Wife.”

Or maybe a neighbor he just keeps happening to bump into.

Things might start out innocent enough. Maybe he doesn’t even intend to cheat at first. But if she’s coming up more and more in the conversation, you need to pay attention.

Why? Because cheating often happens with someone the guy knows, not a total stranger he hooks up with (though that’s possible too). Affairs often start out as emotional. This woman that he’s spending time with, either at work or socially, might make him feel attractive and confident. If you’ve been with him for a while, he might not be getting that same energy in your relationship. Yes, he totally should talk to you if he’s not getting what he needs in the relationship, but he might take the (seemingly) easy route by spending more time with that woman that gives him a boost of confidence.

Is He Cheating and Giving You Clues About It?

So while I’m not saying that you should be concerned about every woman your man ever mentions, if there is a name that’s coming up over and over again, look into it.

If it’s someone you don’t know, say something like: you talk about Beth at work a lot. She sounds great. I’d love to meet her! See what his reaction is. If he’s suddenly squirrelly about getting these two ladies together, there’s something there.

Sign 3: He Suddenly Cares About How He Looks

The longer you’re in a relationship, the less you care about how you look. I mean: at the start, both of you put extra energy into dressing up. You wore more makeup. He showered more. Over time, you’ve grown so comfortable around each other that you’re okay with rocking the torn stained sweatpants most days.

But all of a sudden, he’s going shopping and wearing pastels and plaids.

WTF??

You can’t figure out why he might suddenly give a crap about fashion. Is it a midlife crisis come early?

Or maybe this guy with the teddy bear belly is hitting the gym hard. If he’s simply trying to feel better, great. But if he’s trying to look better for someone…who isn’t you…that’s not good.

Is He Cheating on You and His Sweatpants?

Look, I personally think couples should always dress up occasionally…both for each other and for themselves. But if he’s doing things that are really out of the ordinary looks-wise, dig into it. It could be that his other woman mentioned how sexy she found suspenders. That would explain his new fashion choice.

Your response? Start dressing up and caring how you look too. But not to make him jealous. To make yourself feel good and realize that you’re wasting time on someone who would only care how he looked for someone else.

Sign 4: He Hides His Phone Screen

Pay attention to his sneaky phone behavior. It could be a sign he’s cheating.

You’re laying on the couch together and his phone buzzes. You reach to grab it to hand it to him and he pushes you off of his lap and gets it himself. How rude!

Or you sneak up behind him when he’s on his phone to grab his waist from behind. He jumps like a cat on a hot tin roof and immediately turns it off.

If he’s sneaky about what he’s doing on his phone, this is one of the signs that he is cheating on you, unfortunately. He’s not a CIA agent. What else could he be doing that he wanted to hide? Playing Simon’s Cat??

And if you find that you’re deliberately creeping up on him to see what he’s up to, the relationship is already over. You know what’s going on.

Is He Cheating Through His Phone?

If he’s texting another woman — even if they haven’t met, kissed, or had sex — I still consider that cheating. A man doesn’t have to have sex with a woman for there to be infidelity. Block him from your life…and your phone.

Sign 5: You’re Not Connected…and He’s Not Trying

Research shows that 29% of people who are considering cheating on their partner (and 24% of those who already have) pull back in the contact they have with their significant other.

Is he cheating? Consider how often you get a text or a call from him these days as compared to months ago. Has it dipped significantly? Maybe you used to get a morning check-in text from him daily and now you can’t remember the last time he sent one.

Or maybe you’re the one who always does the calling.

Maybe in person he just doesn’t try to connect. After a long day of work you would love it if he asked how your day was (the way he always used to) but when you get home, he’s playing video games with his brother and has made it clear that they don’t want to be disturbed.

Is He Cheating Because He is Too Chicken to Talk to You?

Emotional distance is far from unusual in long-term relationships. But if addressed, it doesn’t have to mean the demise of one. However, it does take guts for a man (or woman) to tell his partner that things have been different for him. He doesn’t want to hurt you (oh, the irony) so he takes the “easy” way out by having an affair with a woman he can connect with.

Assuming you catch him cheating, the relationship will be over. He might even subconsciously want to get caught for that very reason.

I dunno. I don’t get it. It seems a heck of a lot easier to just sit down and be honest, with the hopes that things will still work out than hurting someone by cheating and getting caught.

Sign 6: He’s Super Defensive and Argumentative

If he gets defensive whenever you ask him questions, that’s a red flag!

You: Hey babe, it looks like you didn’t fill up the car like I asked. Can you do that tomorrow please?

Him: Jeez. Why are you always on my back?? I was busy, okay??

It seems like every little thing sets him off, particularly when you ask him questions about his life, his activities, and his feelings. It’s hard because women seek to get closer to their mates when things seem off…and at the same time, this makes men pull away. So you continue to prod and he continues to retreat.

There’s no winning here.

He may be arguing more because he knows he’s a dog and feels guilty about it, so he’s trying to tell himself that he’s justified because you keep asking questions!! How dare you?

Or he may be trying to push you away so it doesn’t come to you finding out that he’s cheating. Either way, you can’t make a cornered dog less defensive.

Is He Cheating You Out of Your Relationship?

He’s controlling the dialogue in this example, my dear. He’s trying to blame you for what is a very natural thing for a girlfriend to want to do: get information about her partner. You’re not interrogating him (despite what he says). You simply want answers. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Realize you might not get those answers, but you do have an answer to the big is he cheating question. What you do from here is up to you.

Conclusion:

Is he cheating? Is he lying? Your heart wants to say he’s not…but your gut says otherwise.

I know it would be easier to ignore the situation. Hope that if he’s doing anything he shouldn’t that he stops soon.

I know it might seem easier to be with a guy who may or may not be with other women while he’s telling you that you’re his one and only than to get back into the dating pool.

But look at it like this: if you bought a car and as soon as you drove off the lot, it started giving you trouble, you wouldn’t ignore that. After all, you invested a lot of money into this car. It’s unaccepable that it should deliver a subpar performance.

Likewise, you’ve invested a lot of time and energy into this man. While that might seem like a good reason to stay, it’s actually a reason to leave. You shouldn’t accept a subpar relationship. He will never give you what you want if he can’t be satisfied just being with you.

I know it hurts. But believe me: millions of women have left relationships where they were cheated on, and they’re all so much better for it. Staying with this guy only keeps you from finding true happiness.

So believe in yourself enough to know that it’s time to move on.

Talk to me, ladies. What signs that he is cheating have you come across? How did you handle it? Leave a comment below.

Once you leave him, love yourself. Work on that confidence building. It takes a little time…three weeks to be exact! My 21 Days of Confidence program will fast track you to feeling like your old self and getting back out there.

The post Is He Cheating on You? Top Signs He Is + What You Can do About it! appeared first on Sexy Confidence.

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