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ginemrys · 3 years

Note

a bedsharing fic!! <3

i had some fun with this one!!! thank you for sending in the prompt @sunshine-marauders <3

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“Lily, it’s okay, we’ll grab a room in a hotel, it’s not the end of the world.” James said as the two of them stood staring up at the boards in the centre of Euston station, tears in Lily’s eyes as she read the bright orange “CANCELLED” sign beside their train, the last train of the night that would get them home.

It had been a wonderful night of visiting the theatre with one of her best friends, getting lost in a musical for a few hours. The two of them had been singing songs from the show to each other on the tube on the way back to their station, not caring as they got weird stares from other passengers on the Northern line whilst they sang a beautiful rendition of All I Ask Of You. And sure, Lily had felt her heart beat a little faster when they reached the point of the song where Christine and Raoul kiss as she looked into James’ eyes, but that didn’t mean she liked him. It just meant that she understood the character, right?

But their sing-along had come at a price. They’d missed their stop. And the next after that. Then the next. It wasn’t until the last passenger left besides them on the train got off at Golders Green that they’d realised their mistake. And then they’d had to run and get the tube back to Euston, only to just miss one. A three minute wait later and they were finally heading back to Euston, getting off to discover that the last train to Northampton was cancelled. And they were stranded in London.

Lily was wiping furiously at her eyes. They’d stopped for a drink in a bar after the show, assuming that they’d have enough time. So the alcohol in her system heightened her emotions, resulting in the water works. James was scrolling through his phone, looking for the closest hotel.

“There’s a Travelodge or a Premier Inn, they’re fairly close. Everything else is ridiculously expensive.” James said, glancing up at her. “Which would you prefer?”

“Premier Inn, duh.” Lily said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure we can’t get a taxi?”

“From Euston to Leighton Buzzard?” James shook his head. “It’ll be cheaper to spend the night. Come on, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a short walk and then we can grab some breakfast in the morning before heading home.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Fine,” Lily shoved his side playfully, but leaned into his hold after. “But you’re buying breakfast, you’re the one who suggested drinks.”

“Deal.” James chuckled before ducking to kiss the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go. It’s late and we’re both shattered.”

And so they made their way out of the station, following Google Maps to the closest Premier Inn. It was dead quiet inside, just one sleepy receptionist behind the desk barely able to hold her head up.

“Hi, how can I help?” She asked in a monotone voice, having just blinked at the two of them a few times as if she was trying to figure out if they were real or just her imagination.

“Hey, we missed the last train home. Do you have any rooms for tonight?” James asked, running his hand through his hair. Lily watched his movements, eyes following the motion of his fingers brushing through the messy black curls. She wanted to do that, run her hands through his hair. Chill out, Lily. She mentally berated herself, barely hearing the conversation beside her as she tried to sort out whatever the hell was going on with her hormones at that moment.

“Lily?”

“What?”

“Are you good with sharing a bed? There’s only doubles left.”

Holy shit. The thought of sharing a bed with James both thrilled and terrified her. Would she be able to control herself around him? The not crush but definitely a crush that she’d been harbouring for him for the last few months might rear its ugly head and make her do something stupid. But then again, she really didn’t want to have to walk all the way to the Travelodge and have the exact same option, or no room at all.

So she nodded, blushing when James grinned and turned back to the receptionist, passing over his card. Lily tried to protest but he insisted that she could just send him half the money later to save time. Then before she knew it she was joining him in the lift, heading up to the fifth floor. Of course James had had the foresight to ask for some toothbrushes and toothpaste, Lily was far too occupied to even consider such a thing.

Lily decided that she was going to hum to herself the overture to Phantom of the Opera as they travelled up to their floor, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the lift. And then James’ hand was in hers, pulling her out of the lift and down the corridors of the fifth floor until they came to a stop in front of their room. He swiped the key card and there they were, alone, in a room with one bed.

Her throat felt thick as Lily looked at the double bed, why did it look so tiny? She stood in the small space beside the open wardrobe and the bathroom while James flicked on the lights and moved further into the room, peeling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he went.

“Come on, Evans. It’s just a place to sleep.” He smiled at her as he said it, noticing her hesitance. Damn him for being so perceptive to her emotions all of the time. With a deep breath, Lily walked further into the room, setting her shoes beside his while her own jacket draped over the top of his on the chair.

“Here, toothbrush.” He said, passing her one of the two clear toothbrushes he had picked up. “I’ll let you use the bathroom first, gentleman as I am.”

“Oh, so kind.” Lily rolled her eyes while grinning at him, accepting the toothbrush gratefully. She shut herself up in the bathroom, immediately rushing to the sink to splash some water on her face. Why was she so warm? “Get it together, Evans.” She muttered to herself, glancing at her reflection. She sighed as she looked at her makeup, minimal as it was, she had nothing to remove it with. Which would almost certainly result in panda eyes in the morning, but what other choice did she have?

So she left her face alone and focused on brushing her teeth, being a little more thorough than she usually would so James wouldn’t have to wake up to horrific morning breath. God, James was going to see her first thing in the morning. Christ on a bike. She filled one of the small glasses by the sink with water to rinse out her mouth, then gulped another glass down.

James was sitting perched on the edge of the bed when she returned, his eyes meeting hers straight away. Damn, did this man ever stop smiling?

“All… All yours.” Lily said quietly, stepping out of the way as he moved to head into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Lil.”

The door locked behind him and she released a deep breath again, her fingers moving shakily to undo her jeans. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in them, so wanted to get them off and climb under the covers before he could come back. He wouldn’t want to see her in her underwear.

Jeans folded, with her bra tucked safely beneath them, Lily climbed into the left side of the bed, hoping he didn’t mind that she preferred the left. She plugged her phone into the socket next to her bed, thanking her past self for packing her charger in her bag. And then she waited, sitting cross-legged beneath the duvet as she listened to the sounds of the tap running.

The bathroom door opened and Lily had to do her best not to gasp. He’d taken his shirt off. It wasn’t even like it was the first time she’d seen him shirtless either, but seeing him in a dimly lit bedroom right before he was about to be laying right next to her was something else.

“You don’t mind if I sleep in my boxers, do you?” He was asking, his eyes having taken note of her folded jeans.

Lily shook her head, doing her best to look him in the eyes rather than drool all over his bare chest like some hormonal teenage girl watching Magic Mike for the first time. But then he turned his back on her and was pushing his jeans over his hips and Lily couldn’t help but stare. It was actually so unfair how fit her best friend was now, she could still remember the scrawny little kid she used to swim in the local lake with.

Any shred of sanity Lily had left vanished when he turned to face her again, she could feel a wave of heat rushing all over her body. And he’d seen it happen, had seen her eyes darken and her gaze shift into something hungry.

But he ignored it, electing to just climb into bed beside her and turn out the light, facing away from her.

With a slight huff, Lily threw herself down against her pillow, gazing up at the dark ceiling. Her arms were folded over her chest, her legs still crossed like they had been when she’d been sitting. While annoyed that he’d not responded to her sex eyes, she also just felt embarrassed. Because she’d totally just objectified him, looked at her best friend in the whole world like he was a tree for her to climb and use. And she hated herself for it.

“I can hear you thinking, Evans.” James whispered through the darkness, his back still facing hers. “Relax.”

And she did, her hands slid to rest on her stomach, her legs unfolded and moved to rest against the mattress. Her eyes closed and she let out a small sigh. And then he had to go and roll over, his breath on her neck.

While she knew she should just ignore it, squint her eyes and try to sleep, Lily couldn’t help but turn her head on her pillow, her eyes opening once more. And there he was, looking at her. No glasses, his hair already made even messier than usual from the pillow. He just looked so soft.

Usually James was all sharp edges and angular, charisma dripping from every inch of his body. He was sarcastic and energetic and never ever seemed to get tired. But there, laying in bed beside him, he seemed so calm, so at peace. His sharp edges had blurred, softened by the look in his eyes as he gazed at Lily. And that was what he was doing, gazing.

It didn’t take her much to lean in, just one look from him was enough. Her body turned on the mattress as she shifted to reach his lips, her own brushing his softly. And then she moved to pull away, to see his reaction when he moved, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to drag her closer. His lips covered hers and by god, did it feel right. Lily’s hand came to rest on his chest as she kissed him eagerly, their mouths pressing together in a perfect dance, nothing too eager or too slow.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months.” Lily whispered when they broke apart, her eyes still closed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

She looked at him then. There was no trace of a lie in his eyes. She believed him, because of course she did. James never lied to her.

And then she tackled him against the bed and thanked the London Northwestern Railway gods for cancelling the last train home.

#jily fan fic #jily drabble #jily fic

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astrovian · 4 years

Audio

Richard Armitage interview on BBC Radio London for Uncle Vanya (25/10/20)

Full transcript under cut

Just a couple of days ago I was lucky enough to chat to Richard Armitage. He’s best known of course for roles in The Hobbit, Ocean’s 8, Hannibal, and of course, I was obsessed, absolutely obsessed on Netflix with The Stranger. Well, he’s about to star in the multi- Olivier-nominated play - in fact that’s tonight! We’ll find out if they win. Uncle Vanya – it’s filmed at the Harold Pinter Theatre during the pandemic, and uh, it’s incredible, it’s an incredible piece of theatre, and we’re all going to be able to watch it, which is a joy. And this is what we chatted about.

—

What a pleasure to speak to you for a number of reasons, because we can actually talk about how to bring theatre back to people’s lives, ‘cause I’m missing it desperately, but also talk about The Stranger. Let’s talk about Uncle Vanya first-

Yes.

-if we may.

Yes, of course.

Wow. What an incredible thing to do. Thank you for doing this, actually.

Yeah, I mean it was uh, kind of heart-breaking when we had to y’know, end our run six weeks early, and uh, the play was taking on so many kind of resonances of what we were living through, unexpectedly really. I, we thought the play was about, y’know, a man losing his livelihood, and then y’know, as, as the virus started to come into our lives and uh, the play started to change course really. So, and then, to sort of live through lockdown as well did and then come back to the play realising that’s exactly what these people have been doing, they’ve been stuck in a house together from summer through to the winter and going out of their heads. It again, it took on a whole other sort of energy, so a real privilege to be able to do that.

I mean, it is extraordinary when these old stories feel so relevant, and something a lot of people know, for people who don’t know something about it, we should explain a little bit about the story, but it feels like you’re talking about a story from today.

Well, it does. I mean, the fact is that Uncle Vanya, he’s the caretaker of this old estate and uh, he’s worked his entire life, um, supporting a property that’s not his, and then y’know, the owner who’s raised his daughter, Vanya’s raised his daughter for him, comes and says “right, I’m selling the estate for my retirement, um, and you’re all, you’re all out”. And it’s this devastating realisation that everything that he’s worked for is being snatched away from him. At the same time, y’know, my character is a doctor who is living through, trying to save patients during an epidemic, and uh, not handling it very well and turning to drink. And he’s also trying to save his little corner of the world that, y’know, is being deforested, so he’s planting trees and realising that the environment has such an impact on our health, um, *laugh* so it literally could’ve been written yesterday, um, and this was over a hundred and twenty years ago, so y’know, they knew. There was a huge movement in Russia at that time about, um y’know, how to, how to survive, and how to deal with the environment, and we seem not to have heeded any, any advice, really.

We, we never do though, do we? We seem never to.

Not really.

Well, many people don’t seem to. As you said, it just feels so relevant today. So when you, it must have been heart-breaking being in the show, the buzz was extraordinary, it was impossible to get tickets for. This way, I have to say, all the people who couldn’t get tickets, now we can all see it. I’m one of those people who couldn’t get tickets, as you can gather from what I’ve just said. Um, friends of mine went and said, “You’ve GOT to go!” but this is an incredible way to bring theatre to people who, like me are missing it desperately, and many other people who might not have gone to the theatre, who don’t live in London, who couldn’t have seen a show like this, so there is a plus side. I’m always looking for the plus side, I think. *Laugh*

Me too. I mean, I’ve always said that when a play is coming to the end of its run, putting together a film of it, and even a, a sort of audio recording of the play, I think is like an exit package. It’s worth doing for-

Yes.

-like you say, people that can’t go to the theatre, or maybe wouldn’t go the theatre because it’s like, y’know, it might be too expensive for them, and a cinema ticket’s a bit cheaper, they might be able to watch it on telly at some point. But y’know, hopefully they might watch it and think, ‘Oh God, that, that looked really good in the room, maybe I’ll go the theatre when it’s back’. But uh, either way, it’s still just great story-telling, and y’know right now I think everybody sort of wants to disappear into a, into a tale, and uh, hopefully, hopefully they’ll feel brave enough to go and see it in the cinema.

What does it feel like? I mean you’ve, obviously you’ve been in so many award-winning shows, what does it feel like when you’re, you’re waiting to hear? I mean they’ve all, there’s a number of Olivier awards that it’s up for, everyone was talking about this. Once again you were in something that everyone was talking about. Do you, do you feel slightly one step removed? I mean, The Hobbit, and obviously The Stranger, as you can tell I’ve got to go there because I LOVED it, I devoured it.

*Laugh*

Um, what does it feel like being on the outside of everybody talking about something that’s so - that’s such a part of you?

Um, to be honest, with – at the time that it’s happening, I, I sort of close my ears to all of that-

Oh, I love that. *Laugh*

-and try to live in it, rather than outside of it. That, that’s none of my business. But I do, I do pay attention after it’s over, and I love – y’know, I prefer hearing other people’s opinion of it, rather than reading about it myself, so, so I do enjoy the feedback. But when you’re in it, you’re in it. And to be honest with, with Uncle Vanya, we could tell that we were doing okay because the audience would let us know, and y’know that, the very, very first preview was such a kind of electric performance, and the audience were, were kind of laughing all the way through, which we hadn’t had in a rehearsal room. So that feeling is, is very, very precious, and uh, it continued like that through the run. But uh yeah, I tend not to sort of uh, pay too much attention while it’s happening, if you know what I mean.

Yeah, don’t read – everybody was saying-

No, I don’t read the reviews. *Laugh*

Do you REALLY not?! I bet you do sneakily sometimes.

I really don’t. I, I did it once, and it was – I y’know, I read one tiny miniscule negative thing about myself, and it was the only thing I remembered. And so I thought, ‘that’s a good lesson’. Don’t read the good stuff, don’t read the bad stuff. Read it at a later date, but at the time it does not help me.

Okay, alright. Well, I’ll tell you, they were all fabulous. Congratulations. All the reviews, absolutely incredible.

*Laugh* Thanks.

*Laugh* I cannot wait to see this. Now let’s talk about, if we may, The Stranger. I might have mentioned it a few times already in the past few minutes-

*Laugh*

-but it was one of those things I actually, I couldn’t stop. I loved it, I devoured it. And I sort of became slightly obsessed with it, it was BRILLIANT. Did you feel that when you were making it?

Yeah, and you know, again I, I was sort of in the middle of it, so I’m sort of focusing on the character’s journey, but Harlan Coben’s writing is very much in that vein – if you’ve ever read one of his books-

Yes, I have.

-you, you literally can’t put it down, and you can’t wait for, for bedtime so that you can pick it up again, and sometimes you, you get to the last chapter and you sort of, you think, ‘I’ve gotta space this out, ‘cause I’m just gonna devour the whole thing’-

Yes!

-so his writing matches that kind of uh, television format brilliantly. But I love it, and I, I loved what uh, Danny Brocklehurst did with that script. Y’know, he, he sort of elevated the book, and made it a kind of, much more kind of woven drama. So yeah, I love working on that kind of thing. And that is the type of TV that I will, I will watch on a personal taste level.

You’re happy to watch yourself?

No, I- *laugh*, I never watch myself, but I-

I like that, no please say that-

No, I- *laugh*, I never watch myself-

-I know that’s not what you meant, but that, it just sounded lovely that you’re happy to watch yourself in that one.

It, ugh, I haven’t yet, but I-

*laugh*

-I will eventually, *laugh*, um but it’s the kind of TV that I do, I do love watching. But no, again I’m, I’m not a good judge of myself, and ageing on screen is a REALLY hard thing to do.

You can watch that one, I promise you. Um-

Can I?

-may we go back to a part of your past that is, I’m fascinated by, that you – it was about music and musical theatre.

Mmm, yes.

And then you suddenly thought that that wasn’t enough for you, was that right?

Yeah, I mean I – it was at a time when there were, y’know, all of the big musicals were happening in the West End, and I, I saw kind of peers that would kind of move between Les Misérables, and then they’d go into Miss Saigon, and then they’d go into Phantom of the Opera, and I felt like I didn’t really want to, to follow that path. And I just felt that I wasn’t good enough, a good enough practitioner of either dance or song to, to feel that it was gonna be a sort of, that it was gonna have longevity for me, so I was already studying at the actor’s centre, and then I thought, y’know, I’ve gotta just y’know, go back to drama school and start again and do a classical training. ‘Cause that was the thing that was really exciting me. Um, and I’m glad I did it, but y’know, I still feel like in the future I might y’know, pick up that old hat again.

YES!

Yup.

That’s what I was going to ask! ‘Cause I’m a – I love theatre, hugely, as the way you can probably gather from the way I was talking at the beginning, um, but musical theatre is, I think, a very magical thing. And I think it’s possibly something that we all need as well, right now.

I agree.

So if you could – imagine – I’ve got a magic wand, okay?

Yeah? *Laugh*

And I am a magical music theatre fairy.

Yeah.

I could actually sing this bit, ‘cause I love musicals – *singing* “now you can do a theatre show”-

*Laugh*

No, I won’t sing it. Um, so you can do any theatre show on the planet-

Yup.

-any musical theatre. Which one is it, Richard?

Okay, so when we were doing our little warm-up before Uncle Vanya, Aimee Lou Wood and I used to sort of joke and fantasize about maybe doing Cabaret.

*gasp* Oh, yes!

Shall we, shall we send that out to the gods of the universe of theatre, to Aimee Lou Wood as Sally Bowles-

Oh, you can practice, practice, do a little bit-

-she’s got a GREAT voice.

Go on, just do us a little bit.

*Laugh* I can’t.

Oh, he’s not gonna do it, are you?

*Laugh*

I’ve made you – I can tell you’re blushing, which is great because I’m at one end of the computer and you’re at the other end of a computer-

You could do it, you sound great!

No, no, no, no.

Do you sing?

No, I’ve done it. Yeah, no, no. But musical theatre is a magical, magical thing, and I just – I, I love the fact that you’re open to all of that.

Definitely.

Now, let’s go to New Zealand on our next bit of travels. Um, what an incredible place to be for such an extraordinary film. I mean, The Hobbit, and everything that entailed, changing – I mean, for other people I’ve spoken to who were in any of The Hobbits, they all say that they felt it was such a MASSIVE part of their life, and they learnt so much doing it.

Yeah, I mean I never dreamed in a million years that I, I would get an opportunity to work on a project like that. And to work, y’know – I was a huge Tolkien fan for a start, and then when I saw Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings, I was just, I was obsessed with it. And it’s not one of the reasons I pursued it, it kind of came to me, and I felt like ‘Gosh, why does he want me to play a dwarf?’ but um, getting the chance to go that country for so long, and work with that cast and him, and be completely kind of, sort of disappear into a, into a sort of a world and a character. And to be taken in a helicopter to the top of a mountain and, and y’know, shoot in places where human feet haven’t trodden – you know, it was, it was life-changing, it really was. And apart from the success of the films, which was a whole other thing, the actual experience of doing it was, it was unbelievable.

Aw, well, listen Richard, thank you. It’s such a pleasure to talk to you, I could talk to you for ages. And I can’t wait to come and see you in Cabaret. And congratulations-

*Laugh*

-on Uncle Vanya. Pleasure to speak to you.

Thank you very much.

#RICHARD IN CABARET #fuck can you imagine #i can't wait for a future musical theatre production ft. RA #richard armitage

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Video

youtube

Coffee

This is @godsliltippy ‘s fault because she was so kind to me and posted Pocket Virgil to help me through the day. Above is the original three clips, of which Pocket Virgil is part of Clip Two. After watching Pocket Virgil try again and again with no success, I kinda wanted to help him, so this fic happened.

Total meta crack, that really didn’t go anywhere, but hopefully will be fun nonetheless. Certain laws of both physics and worldbuilding were totally ignored, so there may be some brain frying concept-wise.

This is for Thunderfam and for all the kindness you continue to bestow upon me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You guys are amazing. ::hugs you all::

Leave sense at the door. I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy was grumpy.

He knew this idea was good an all and he fully supported Lady Penelope when she suggested they document some of their rescues for the general public.

But not once...not once! Did she mention that he would be dragged out of bed before the sun, thrown on a set to perform, and the only coffee they would provide would be thimble-sized, consequently cold and allocated to break times.

At the moment, ‘break’ was definitely a keyword. Sans coffee, Virgil Tracy was quite ready to do something of the kind to the director.

“Now, Virgil, I know you’re tired, but you are the calm brother, the respected peacemaker of the family. Snarling at the camera isn’t quite in character.”

In character? He was playing himself, for goodness sake. He was in character, character sans coffee! Across the studio, he eyed the Tracy villa swimming pool and wondered if there was a possibility of filling it with coffee.

“Can we try again?”

Virgil grunted at the director. Bet he had had his coffee. Bet he was allowed to access that wondrous machine up so high on that shelf. Bet he hadn’t given one thought to how his precious Tracys might feel about the matter.

Yeah, Virgil Tracy was not in a very good mood at all.

The director stood up from the set and stepped away to be half hidden by the camera again.

Virgil lowered Two’s hatch and climbed aboard. All prepared to launch Two with a smile.

He grit his teeth.

Backing her up into her hangar again, he closed the cliff face and waited for the call.

“Action!”

Practised fingers went through their motions and Two cruised out onto her runway under the fake sunlight.

A poke at a control and the palm trees moved aside...not quite the way they did at home, but well enough...and Two taxied towards her ramp.

“Cut!”

Oh, for the love of...what now?!

“Virgil, you are grinding your teeth. I would say we could mute it in post, but you look like you want to kill someone. You’re the valiant hero, the gentle giant, not Hannibal Lecter daydreaming about dinner!” Virgil stared up at him through the windows. Usually, Virgil would be mortified, but it was barely past 7am, he had been up late for a real rescue last night, hadn’t slept well, and there was no damned coffee!

The director stared at him a moment longer before throwing up his hands. “Okay, you know what? Take fifteen, go find some coffee, for all our sakes.” He ended that with a glare and turned away calling the crew to a halt.

Virgil sat there staring at the replica of his ‘bird’s controls. He had been in the real thing last night. Saved sixteen lives.

He was just tired and not really being fair to anyone, including himself.

He just wanted coffee. Please, I just need coffee.

If his inner voice sounded like a dehydrated man in a desert pleading for water, it was just being honest.

The thing was that the crew had coffee. In that machine on the shelf. Sure, the cup was bigger than he was, but it might be just enough to put his brain to rights.

But he couldn’t reach the button to activate it. In fact, the one time he had tried, some smart ass on set had filmed him jumping up, trying to reach it. It had made the rounds until it hit Gordon, who then promptly made sure the rest of the world had the opportunity to enjoy laughing at his brother.

But then Gordon still didn’t know who poured dye in his pool...while he was in it.

The full body make-up his brother had to wear that day to hide the purple was almost worth it.

But coffee...god, he needed coffee. If only he could extend his reach. If only he could grip the cup...

Virgil blinked.

The solution was obvious. Oh my god. He felt like kicking himself for not thinking of it before. You idiot!

There was one piece of equipment he had brought on set that wasn’t fake.

It was here for two reasons. The first was that it was built for Virgil, only he could wear it and it was cheaper to just wear the real thing than to build a poorly functional duplicate. Secondly, Virgil preferred to have one on hand as often as possible, just in case, and since they had been spending so much time in Aotearoa on set, he had stashed one with the lead model maker for safe keeping.

He exited the fake Two and leapt out onto the runway. The fact that one of the set hands saw him and immediately made herself scarce was kind of depressing. He had been a grumpy bear this morning.

But that was all about to be solved.

He eyed the director and, making sure the man wasn’t looking, grabbed one of the discarded thimble-sized coffee cups and slipped away towards prop storage.

It was a hike and he had to dodge wheels and staff who didn’t see him. Those who did all immediately looked at their watches and, just like the set hand earlier, hurried out of his sight.

Maybe he was beginning to get a reputation.

Serve them right for not giving him coffee!

He found his helmet and his exosuit exactly where he expected them to be. Some neurotic librarian type had attached a huge name tag with a barcode onto it.

Virgil’s shoulder mounted laser took care of that.

It was almost comforting to slide on the equipment. The surety of its strength settling on his shoulders, its weight snug at his hips and ankles.

He sighed.

Of course, that one moment of relaxation was interrupted by Steven, the lead model maker, suddenly bursting into the room.

“I don’t know, Scott. That sounds kind of dangerous. The real Thunderbird One might be able to handle you surfing it, but I’m not too sure of the mockups.”

“I’ll talk to Brains. We’ll make it happen.”

“Why are you feeling the need to surf on the outside anyway?”

“Because it looks cool?” Scott cleared his throat. “Ah, because that is what happened during the incident we are portraying and accuracy is important.”

Virgil hunched down behind a scarily accurate model of that moon buggy Scott was always raving about. He dared not move because the wheeze of the suit’s hydraulics was far too familiar a sound to hide from his brother.

But then, since Scott was buzzing around at Steven’s eye height thanks to one of his jetpacks, his older brother really didn’t have a single leg to stand on.

Mostly because he apparently didn’t need them.

Virgil found himself grinding his teeth again.

He really needed coffee.

“You actually surfed on the outside of Thunderbird One?”

“Well, yeah.”

“That is so cool, man.”

“That’s what I said!”

Steven reached past Virgil’s hiding spot and picked up one of the fake explorer pods and Virgil remembered that he was supposed to clamber up the side of an equally fake mountain later in the morning.

Hell, coffee was mandatory.

Fortunately, Steven appeared to have everything he needed and both he and Scott left almost immediately after that, Scott coming as close to raving as Virgil had ever heard him, babbling about surfing on One.

Sounded about right. Scott and Alan might as well have been twins if it wasn’t for their age difference.

They both gave Virgil grey hair.

But then so did Gordon.

John was easier, cool and calm and sensible most of the time. But that just meant that when he did slide off the rails, he did a proper job of it, likely taking most of them with him.

Hmmm, must remember to grab some more hair dye on the way home tonight.

With the coast clear, he secured his thimble cup to his suit and made a run for it.

He made it across the floor to the blessed coffee machine without interruption this time, though he had to admit, his suit was much noisier than he had realised. But a good percentage of the crew were focused on that scene Scott was filming.

He could still hear his brother declaring that he knew his stunts better than any stunt man.

Virgil had to agree. If anyone was capable of surfing Thunderbird One, it was Scott.

The idiot.

Now, not only was he doing stupid stunts to save people, but now just to show off.

Virgil had a good mind to kick his ass. He was as bad as Alan.

No, correction. Alan wasn’t that stupid.

Virgil found himself taking a step in his big brother’s direction and it was only the wheeze of his suit that made him realise exactly what he was doing.

Coffee, goddamnit, he needed coffee!

Without a second thought, he fired a grapple line up to the bench top and was gratified it secured with a thunk. Pulling himself up with the right equipment was so much more efficient than the equivalent pseudo rock climbing he had had to do last time.

Before he knew it, he was up there standing next to the huge dispenser of coffee. He gazed up at it for a moment and blessed its existence.

But unfortunately, Sadie who had been kind enough to set it up for him last time wasn’t available.

Hell, if his assistant hadn’t been called away at the last minute, he would have gotten his coffee that day. As it was, the director had found out about the incident when Virgil arrived late on set and had given Sadie a dressing down that involved images of Tracy brothers falling into giant vats of coffee and being boiled alive.

As if Virgil would be that stupid.

Boiling himself would be such a waste of good coffee.

But there were no more attempts at giant coffees for Virgil Tracy from that point on. It was banned.

So, this time, he had to set it up himself.

He was consequently reassured that yes, he was really good with his tools. The suit hummed in appreciation as he made it do what he needed it to do and despite dropping coffee granules all over himself at one point – he was considering eating them off the counter, but then considered that a caffeine overdose wasn’t wise – he set up the machine ready to dispense some black heaven.

The teacup he had used last time had been pushed away to one side, but his exosuit made it a simple job to manipulate it into position so he could stand on it.

With the extension of his claw, he easily reached up and hit the green button.

It was a pleasure just to hear the coffee machine start up.

He was seriously tempted to take off his helmet and breathe in the gloriousness that was the scent of brewing coffee, but he still had to get that coffee cup into a position from which it would be safe for him to drink.

He may be coffee and sleep deprived but he wasn’t an idiot.

So, he stood there watching the coffee machine make the drink of the gods.

It was a little mesmerising.

And then the process was complete. The machinery quietened and the coffee cup sat waiting for him.

He didn’t hesitate.

It took both claws and a secure grapple to the shelf above the bench for stability, but he manoeuvred the cup down onto the bench top.

Steam fogged up his helmet as he looked down from atop the upturned teacup, so finally, he broke the seals and lifted it off his head.

Oh.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

He almost melted on the spot.

The smell was heady, intoxicating. Drowning in the dark liquid no longer seemed a bad idea.

He leant over a little further.

Ohhhhhhhhhh, it was just too good.

“Virgil! What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

It was Scott’s voice. Unmistakeable.

He would want to take away his coffee.

No.

No!

Not his precious coffee!

His brother flew up onto the bench and alighted without a sound. “Virgil!”

Virgil hissed at him. “Go away.”

That earned him a worried frown. “That’s not safe.”

Screw safe, he wanted coffee. He unhooked his thimble cup from his waist and reaching down, scooped up some blessed, steaming liquid manna.

It was hot.

It was delicious.

He poured it down his throat.

Oh, god, yessssss.

Another scoop and he sculled some more. His tongue scalded a little, but he didn’t care.

More.

He was guzzling like a dying man at water filled oasis.

“Virgil?”

“Virgil!”

And suddenly the coffee cup disappeared.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

He over balanced and would have fallen if it wasn’t for a sudden thunk of a grapple on the back of his suit.

He looked up to find Scott securing his grapple line to a coffee cup hook underneath the overhead shelf as Virgil teetered on the edge of his teacup, barely prevented from falling by the cable’s connection to his suit.

And there was no more coffee.

No.

Please.

“I need coffee.”

Scott floated down to Virgil’s eye level and Virgil realised exactly who had taken the coffee cup away.

The director was standing behind his big brother.

Virgil was in so much shit.

Damnit.

“I just want coffee.”

Scott was frowning at him. “Are you okay, Virgil?”

“DO I LOOK OKAY?!”

Um, that may have come out a little bit louder than intended. But then he was hanging partly suspended from an empty coffee cup hook.

Much quieter. “I just need coffee.”

Scott’s eyes were wide. “I think you’ve had enough coffee.”

No, he needed more. Buckets more. “Please, Scott.”

“Uh, no. We’re going home.”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

But Scott had turned away and was talking quietly to the director.

Virgil caught a glimpse of something shiny out the corner of his eye and turned to find a single drop of deep brown gold suspended from the coffee dispenser.

Coffee!

Without thought he leapt for it.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Scott actually did think, because a yank on that grapple line probably prevented Virgil from being scalded.

“What the hell, Virg?!”

He blinked as he hung fully suspended by his brother’s grapple line, swinging slowly back and forth, one very unhappy commander glaring at him.

Umm, yeah, maybe that was taking it a step too far.

Scott’s words were firm. “Shed the suit and go and sit in the car.”

“Sco-“

“Now.” Blue fire lasered him where he hung.

Virgil gave in with a single nod.

Scott lowered him to the bench top and Virgil dropped the suit with a clatter. He stomped off in a huff as Sadie was called over the PA system to come and assist him.

He only wanted a decent coffee, for crying out loud.

After all, Gordon did get that massive hot dog the other day, and John had slept in his bagel, for goodness sake.

Why couldn’t he have his coffee?

It just wasn’t fair.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #crazy meta #meta crack #meta #nutty is nuts #he just wants coffee

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a-table-of-fics · 3 years

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Oddworld: Conar's Ambition, Chapter 4, Draft 1

In the meantime, he puffed on his Lungbuster some more, thinking about what they could do next. Once they were all in the scrapyard, and found a secure spot, that’d be a good time to see about that map Mark probably had. From there, he could hopefully find out where Zeb’s offices were, and from there he and Slim could take him down, and Conar could finally have a fortune of his own.

His happy daydreams were interrupted when he heard another vehicle come rumbling down the road, and the sound of screeching metal against concrete. He leaned to look past the wall, and he had to cover his earholes as he saw an ugly yellow truck coming to the garage, sparks flying behind it as it carelessly dragged an enormous three-pronged hook behind it on a thick metal cable. He leapt back, afraid the tow cable might swing his way and obliterate him. Thankfully, it was nowhere close, and the truck was slowing to turn into the parking space anyway.

A Slig wearing a work vest came out, putting a well-worn yellow cap onto his head. He slammed a fist on the bed of the truck, and three Scrubs sat up groaning, and climbed out of the back.

Conar turned to the sleeping Mudokons, and was quick to tap them both with his Blunderbuss. They stirred, slowly standing back up. Just in time, too; the Slig had looked their way. He nodded before walking over to the passenger side. The door opened, and Conar heard the tell-tale sound of a Glukkon’s cheap dress shoes rapidly clattering. He was smoking an even cheaper cigar, and oil-stained suspenders over a hideously yellow plaid shirt. He sneered as he looked over at Conar and the Mudokons under his care, but his face softened as he saw the cab they came in with.

He hummed, running a few mental tallies.

“Quite a wreck,” he finally said. “Almost wish I’d seen the accident!”

He laughed, and if there was one thing any Slig learned quickly, it’s that a Glukkon’s laughter is contagious… or else. The Mudokons had no such obligation; while Slim and Mark were trying to keep their heads down, the three Scrubs in yellow loincloths just unloaded the truck of its six toolboxes. They politely waited by the door, struggling to stand up under the weight they were carrying.

“I take it you’re Clunk?” Conar asked.

“You ain’t as stupid as you look,” the Gluk snorted. “Why do ya ask?”

“Your guard over there says we need a ticket from you to get this scrap into the yard.”

Clunk turned around, seeing a wide-awake Slig waving his way from his booth, his magazine hidden from view.

“He’s right, you will need one. We gotta make sure we can’t fix it first.”

Meanwhile, his assistant Slig was watching the overly encumbered Mudokons. He was taking great pleasure in slowly opening the doors, at a couple of points even “accidentally” letting the doors fall a little, chuckling as the Scrubs groaned. Finally, he let them in, and they were able to set their equipment on the workbench.

“Right,” Conar nodded. “So when can we get started, sir? I’m already running late…”

“250 Moolah,” the Glukkon replied, simply. “We also gotta get your name and everything for our records. If we start going a little late, maybe I can let your boss now. Who knows?”

He leaned forward, enough to breathe smoke into Conar’s face.

“He might be feeling lenient and just dock your pay.”

He chuckled to himself, while Conar reached into his bag. Having only around 1400 Moolah to his name, this was quite a bit, but what choice did he have?

The other Slig happily accepted his payment, and turned towards his workforce.

“All right, get ‘er in so we can take a look!”

Conar and company watched as the cab was taken in, and followed when Clunk beckoned them in. They were directed to a lobby that had two very greasy chairs in it, as well as half another chair that was haphazardly lying against the wall. Clunk moved behind the front desk, where his assistant was waiting.

“So, you got an ID, ‘valued’ customer?”

“39872-A,” Conar said, automatically.

“Right. Place of employment?”

“Slog Hut 1884.”

“Quite a ways from here. What happened?”

“Got caught in some crossfire around home, sir.”

Clunk nodded.

“Right, we’ll see what we can do. You have a seat.”

Conar nodded, keeping the seat on his Pants rather than anything he could actually feel. The Mudokons, after one glare from the owner, shared the half-seat, keeping their feet splayed so they didn’t tip it over.

Clunk chuckled at the sight, and so Conar did too.

“Which of these chumps was the driver?”

Mark shrunk a bit, knowing what was going to come next, but before anyone else, Slim piped up.

“I was driving, sir.”

Mark was about to say something, but Slim’s elbow made a point against that. Clunk looked, and nodded.

“Brave Mud to admit that,” he said, turning back to Conar. “Make sure to get his license. Should have a number you can call on this phone here. They’ll take care of ‘im for losing company property, I hope.”

With that, he waddled over through the doorway, to the noises of metal clanging and tools hissing and whirring.

As soon as he was gone, Slim looked at the shaken Mark, then turned to Conar.

“Can you… can you pretend to call?”

“You ain’t tellin’ me what to do!” Conar replied. “I gotta call, that’s what he said…”

Slim’s look said it all, but he added “You want everyone to know where we are?”

“…Yeah, why don’t I just… not call, then?”

“Clunk’s probably gonna pop in at any moment. You really want to blow your cover here?”

Conar thought about it for a moment, then nodded. He’d have to ask about how Slim knew about this kind of thing later, but for now, he had a “call” to make to the taxi company. He stood up, holding a hand out expectantly. Mark looked at it for a moment, then sighed and produced a card from a pouch on his loincloth.

Conar snatched it and took a look. So he was supposed to call the Durtminch Taxi Service, but he punched random keys on the phone in rapid succession. He got a busy signal, but he pressed on.

“Yeah, hi… I wanted to report a Mud who drove through a gunfight…Yeah…We’re at Clunk’s… His name’s Mark…”

Clunk walked back in, watching while Conar finished his conversation.

“…ID, uh, 5928-22555…And this was 39872-A… Yeah, thanks.”

He looked up at the Glukkon.

“They said they’d discipline correctly.”

“Good,” Clunk nodded. “It’s important that they… learn. Anyway, we got some fixes underway. It’ll be ten minutes, but if it still don’t work, we’ll take it off your hands and getcha a ride.”

“Gotcha,” Conar nodded, walking back to take a seat.

Unfortunately, Clunk was staying at the desk, watching a monitor. No chance of using this time to rest, then; despite Conar’s reason for being late, he could still get reported for sleeping during work hours. Being late to the Slog Hut was one thing, but using this as an excuse to sleep was a one-way path to being detained until a co-worker could arrive and perform disciplinary action. Talking to the Mudokons was out of the question, too. No Glukkon liked seeing security being buddy-buddy with the workforce. So, he waited, listening to the sounds of mechanics hollering and metal clanging for ten minutes until, finally, the other Slig came back into the lobby.

“W-well,” he said, uneasily, “Got as fixed as we could, boss.”

The three Scrub mechanics walked in, covered in considerably more oil, soot, and burn marks than the Slig was.

“Well,” Clunk smiled, “Why don’t you have your driver friend there get the thing started, and we’ll see you off?”

Slim felt many eyes on him, and he slowly stood up. Mark followed suit, letting their half-chair slide and collapse onto the floor. He and Slim scrambled to get that back onto the wall, and then moved to follow the other Slig, with Conar following after.

He swallowed, climbing into the driver’s seat while Mark and Conar made it into the backseat.

“Hold up,” the head mechanic asked, raising a hand, “What’s the deal with the other Scrub?”

“You know better than to ask questions like that!” Clunk scolded, causing his Slig to wince. “It’s like you know nothing about keeping customers!”

He coughed, nearly dropping his cigar.

“Right then,” he continued, turning his attention to Conar through the window, “Explain why you’re commutin’ with a Mudokon!”

“Ah, y’see, er…”

“’M a student,” Slim meekly offered. “Y’see, he’s my instructor, isn’t that right, ‘Slim’?”

“I—” Mark started, before having his toe pressed by Conar’s metal foot. “Y-yeah, I am. L-lemme give ya a… refresher on how t’start this thing… yeah…”

He reached over, adjusting the levers to get the thing started. A rumble and whining noise, but nothing happened.

“Try again,” Clunk said.

“O-okay,” Mark nodded, having another go. Same result.

“Oy,” Clunk muttered, shaking his head. “All right, my boys’ll ger this into the scrapyard and we’ll getcha a new ride.”

“Actually,” Conar piped up. “I got two perfectly good Scrubs here. Betcha they could do with a bit of exercise, y’know what I’m saying?”

“Not gonna happen,” Clunk laughed. “Can’t have your Muds diving under a hunk of metal and escapin’, can we?”

“No sir,” Conar said, nodding a little too hastily. “Can’t have ‘em fleeing.”

He lifted his gun up meaningfully.

“I’m sure Tess and I could keep an eye on ‘em, though… heh heh…”

Clunk looked at him, and laughed.

“Ah, you really wanna teach ‘em a lesson, huh? Can’t blame ya for that; even a Mudokon should know not to drive into a firefight.”

He turned to his assistant.

“You focus on keeping our boys in line. Let our friend here take care of scrappin’ that piece of crap.”

“Er, all right, sir…”

It was hard to see with his own visor and the other Slig’s pilot-like goggles, but Conar could swear he was getting a side-eye from the guy as he turned to gather his mechanics.

Conar, for his part, simply shrugged, grabbing a ticket as it printed before giving a somewhat forceful jab to Slim’s back with the barrel of his gun.

“Get movin’, you two! I wanna see that cab in the scrap heap, and I wanna see it there now!”

He gave a bit of a chuckle to keep appearances, and the three of them moved the cab out. Well, Slim and Mark did, while Conar kept pace behind them, cradling “Tess” in his arms, still keeping it quite visible in the tried-and-true “Slig At Work” pose.

“Some escape,” Slim muttered under his breath. “Make me wish I was back shoveling Slog poo.”

“Wait, we’re escapin’?” Mark asked, perking up. “I can quit driving Sligs around? No more chokin’ on smoke?”

Before Mark could get too excited, though, he had to flinch as two shots rang out from behind him. Both he and Slim immediately put their hands over their heads, resting their faces onto the car’s trunk. They were just able to turn their heads enough to see Conar looking at them, his smoking gun pointed straight up in the air.

“Enough yapping!” he barked. “You’re slowin’ down when you do that!”

Mark was shaking a little, but Slim just sighed before beginning to push the cab again. On the plus side, the guard had woken up from that, and was already watching them pull up. Conar was already waving the ticket up for him, so he pulled the lever on the left of the control panel.

The three of them watched as the gate shook, groaning and creaking as it dragged along the ground. In the twenty-two seconds it took for it to open, Slim and Mark were able to take a breather, which they gratefully took. They almost didn’t notice when Conar shouted for them to start pushing again, but self-preservation kicked in regardless, and the cab was shoved through the gate again.

It soon became clear that they were not moving past multiple piles of discarded metal, but instead walking on one enormous heap. There was enough rust to pass as dirt if you weren’t walking on it, and they could hear metal creak not just under their feet, but everywhere. In the distance, a stack collapsed onto itself. A crane with an enormous magnet lifted junk into a new pile, and a bulldozer shoved more onto it.

As Conar looked around, the two Mudokons took note of the red eyes floating around. They didn’t seem to be taking any interest in the trio, instead panning over the various machines.

“Now, let’s get this thing outta the way,” Conar said. “I think I see some room over there.”

He gestured over to a place between an old FeeCo train car and a pile of refrigerators. It was a tight fit, but nothing a bit of elbow grease and Slig threats couldn’t take care of.

“Right,” Conar said, “We should find a place to lay low, then. We can figure things out from there.”

He looked either way, and found the door was taken off the train car. That was as good an option as any to look, but Slim put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from going into it.

“There’s a hideout in the fridges already,” he said. “Might wanna check that first.”

Conar paused to look at the pile on the other side, but outside of various graffiti tags, he didn’t see anything of interest. Besides, the train car was right here.

“I don’t know what you’re tryin’,” he said, pulling his shoulder away from the Mudokon, “but if you think you can pull one over me, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“I’m not—”

“Get in the train!” Conar shouted. “That’s an order!”

“Fine,” Slim sighed, clambering in. It was dark and cold down there, and the air had a metallic scent that was just powerful enough to be uncomfortable. Mark and Conar followed, landing next to him.

“It ain’t much,” Conar admitted, “but at least we should be hidden pretty well here.”

“I guess,” Slim shrugged, while Mark just nodded.

“It’s been a long night, so we oughta rest for a bit. We’ll work on getting started later.”

Conar watched as the Mudokons found a darker corner, huddling together for warmth. Despite the conditions, they found sleep far more easily than Conar did. The Expresso had long since lost its kick, but this was a far cry from the bed he was used to. What was worse, he was watching over recently-freed Scrubs. He could manage one, but what if the two were to gang up on him? Hell, Slim was already giving him orders! He was already getting a lot of nerve!

#oddworld fic #oddworld conar's ambition #Oddworld #draft 1 #chapter 4 #oddworld conars ambition full chapter

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kyouxa · 4 years

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Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Kino (Heaven END)

Dear anonymous asker, thank you for asking me to translate his heaven ending! Since he was my first route in Chaos lineage, I enjoyed replaying this ending very much!ヾ(≧∇≦)ゞ

Place: Shopping mall

Yui: (Fufu, today I’m having a date with Kino-kun. I’m so happy that my face is already loose)

Kino: Tell me, what happened to your tight face from just a while ago?

Yui: I’m happy because it’s been a long time since I went out alone with Kino-kun.

I didn’t even sleep much yesterday because I was wondering what we would do together today.

Kino: Hmm. You couldn’t sleep because of this, just like a little child. Hopefully you didn’t get lost in thoughts too much.

*Yui blushes*

Yui: Ah… that doesn’t matter anymore!

Kino: Fufu… thought so.

Yui: (Kino-kun looks happy about today as well)

(Did he look forward to this too? I’d be happy if that was the case)

Kino: C‘mon, let‘s start walking around.

*Kino grabs Yui’s hand*

Yui: ….. !

(His hand… in mine)

Kino: Heh… looks like it worked.

Yui: Eh? What do you mean?

Kino: Yesterday I tried out a romance game because I was interested in it.

I was foolish, thinking that these actions of that man were solid, but it seems as if you could surprisingly try them out.

Or maybe, you’re just a crazy woman?

Yui: I’m what… ! That’s not true!

I just really like your hands... that’s why I’m pleased with holding them.

Kino: Ah, I see. You like them…

Yui: We’re done with this topic! Let’s just walk around the stores, okay?

Please tell me if there’s a store you want to go to, Kino-kun.

Kino: Sure, understood. Hey, I just want to drink something sweet.

Yui: Yes, that’s good too. Why not entering a coffee shop then?

Kino: Fine with me. Hm, what’s that… ?

Yui: What’s wrong? Are you interested in any other store around?

Kino: Yea, what store is that?

Yui: Eh? Oh, that’s a candy store over there.

It’s a shop that sells a lot of sweets. You can buy it cheaper than ordinary sweets.

Kino: Hmm. Children are going in there one after another… there are also unusual shops here.

Oh… over there!

*Kino runs off*

Yui: Eh… wait, Kino-kun!

*Yui follows him*

Yui: Why did you suddenly start running off?

Kino: Look, over there. Konpeitō! And there are many types of it.

Yui: Speaking of which, you really must like Konpeitō.

Kino: Yup. They look like stars, right? That’s why I liked them ever since I first saw them.

I always wanted to get my own star someday…

Yui: …That sounds nice

Kino: But now I already got what I wanted, so I don’t need to aim for that any longer.

Yui: Is that so? What did you get that you really wanted then, Kino-kun?

Kino: Haa…

Yui: Eh? Why did you suddenly sigh?

Kino: Because… say, you don’t usually notice this?

Yui: Huh… ?

Kino: You really are an insensitive person. What I seriously wanted was you to begin with, got that?

Yui: Eh… what, me… ?!

Kino: Exactly. Who else is there?

Yui: (He’s confidently confessing that to me in a shop like this…)

Kino: Fufu… your face is completely red.

Yui: That’s because Kino-kun said that… !

Kino: Because I told you such an embarrassing thing, are you still able to go shopping with me?

Yui: Of course. I was going to do that from the very beginning.

Kino: Then let’s see what’s in that candy store.

Yui: Yes, alright.

Kino: Heh, there seriously are all kinds of sweets. I’ve never seen any of them at a supermarket.

Right, I came up with a good idea. Let’s buy everything we want for up to 500 yen per person.

Yui: Oh, that’s a good idea. Let’s do that.

Kino: I’ll also go and get konpeitō. I will not start without this.

After that… wow, what’s this?

Yui: Oh, that’s a candy that changes its color when you knead it a lot.

Kino: Amazing, so it does changes its colors when you eat it too? Is that healthy?

Yui: It’s an old fashioned candy, don’t you think that it would be delicious?

Kino: Then let’s try that poisonous thing. I’ll buy one too.

Yui: Poisonous you say… I’m sure it’s not bad.

Then I… ah! I wonder if I can take more of them.

I’m sure Kanato-kun would like them too.

Kino: Hah? Wait a minute. Why did Kanato come to your mind now?

Yui: Right… he’s still unconscious.

Kino: To say the name of another man while I’m with you, you seriously must have some guts.

… Remember that later.

Yui: Eh?

(Now I feel like I caught myself up in something… or is it just me?)

*time passes*

Kino: I guess that’s enough. 500 yen are doing it for them.

Yui: Let’s go to the cash register then.

Kino: It’s not bad for a candy store to have costumers buying this much. I’ll definitely tell Yuri about this store.

Yui: He would surely like it here.

Kino: But I want to come here with you next time again.

Yui: Yes… me too. Let’s come again.

Kino: Yup… hm? What is that thing behind you?

Yui: Eh? ...Oh, this is a lottery. The first prize seems to be like an assortment of sweets.

Kino: Hmm. I see. In other words, it’s like a normal gacha game?

(Admin note: ガチャゲーム - Gacha games are video games that adapt and virtualize the gacha (capsule-toy vending machine) mechanic!)

Yui: Well, maybe I guess? I think they are similar in a way.

Kino: Heh. I’m sure I’d do good in this gacha game too.

Yui: I see. Kino-kun is always playing smartphone games after all.

But the lottery of a candy store would probably hit you unexpectedly as well. It may be difficult, even for Kino-kun.

Kino: What are you talking about? I have enough practice at gacha games to win this.

During that time, I was able to pull out SSR weapons with only one shot.

The difference between this lottery and my gacha games won’t be too big. Look at it, because I’ll win the first prize in one shot.

Yui: Isn’t that difficult?

Kino: Hah? Are you saying that you can’t believe in my luck?

Yui: That’s not what I said, but you can’t really fortune yourself, right? So…

Kino: Let’s bet about that. If I beat you, you’ll give me a reward. Alright?

Yui: Ah... alright, what should I give you as reward?

Kino: I’ll decide that later. I’ll start it now. Old man, one play!

Hehehe… look at that!

Yui: No way…

First try…

Awesome, you really pulled it out in one shot!

Kino: As I said. I told you that, right? I said that I’d definitely beat you.

Look at this old man! I won the first prize, this one! I’m amazing, right?! Look look!

Yui: (No matter how much I think about it, it’s true what he said)

*time passed*

Yui: I bought sweets and even got some as prize, I’m sure I don’t need any more.

Kino: Well, isn’t that good? We’ll eat them all anyway.

Yui: Such, like a glutton… oh, Kino-kun! Please don’t eat while walking!

Kino: It’s fine. Fufu… Konpeitō is delicious after all. I’ll give you some too. Open your mouth.

Yui: Thank you. Yes… they’re sweet and delicious.

(Speaking of which, I hope he forget about the bet we made earlier)

Kino: Oh, right here. Hey, you. Come a little closer.

Yui: Eh… ?

*Kino comes closer*

Yui: Kino-kun, what’s wrong… ?

Kino: We made a bet, if I’d win the first prize you’d give me a reward for it afterwards.

Yui: Ah… yes. That’s right.

What is it? Should we feast on guava juice on the way home?

Kino: Haa, that’s way too dull. When I talk about a reward, I’ll be the one deciding on it, right?

Yui: Ah…

*Kino blushes*

Kino: That delicious looking neck, give me a sip from there… Nn… Nn…

Yui: Ahh… Kino-kun… you can’t do that in such a place… ! If someone sees you…

Kino: You’re an idiot. If you make such noises, you’re the reason they’ll notice it.

And you need to follow the given rules. I got permission from you to get that reward.

Yui: I know… you’re right.

Kino: That’s why you shouldn’t complain about what I’m doing.

I’ll make you feel good, so be quiet… Haa...

Yui: Ahh… nh…

Kino: Haa… oh, right. Would you like to have a mark of my fangs that others can see too?

You’re just thinking about other guys during a date. I’m worried that you may end up betraying me like that.

Yui: N-No… I promise that I won’t do it anymore… forgive me, Kino-kun.

Kino: Your mouth does say that, but your blood… it‘s getting sweeter.

Just like the Konpeitō I ate earlier… it’s sweet…

I guess you can’t stop something like this sweet blood of yours.

Stay exactly like this, until I’m completely satisfied…

Yui: (No… I can’t do that)

(I can‘t think of anything else but Kino-kun anymore anyway…)

*time skipped*

Yui: (Kino-kun won’t let go of me, but I’m starting to feel dizzy)

Can we stop going around the stores and go home soon?

Kino: Fine. It was unexpectedly enjoyable even tho it was my first time coming here.

Yui: That’s good. Thank you for this wonderful date today.

Kino: On the other hand, it seemed interesting and I just came along. Ah… the Konpeitō are already gone…

Yui: Eh? Have you already eaten them?

Kino: I ate a lot of it while walking.

Hmm, I should have bought another bag of it.

Yui: Then why don’t you go back to the candy store again?

Kino: It’s fine. I’ll get this instead.

*Kino kisses Yui*

Kino: … Nn…

Yui: Ah! Nn...

E-Eh?!

Kino: Fufu, you look a little too surprised. You’re not saying that the reward you got from me just now was bad, right?

Yui: But… did you need to do that while we’re watched by people?!

Kino: I have to show off what I have, that’s only natural. You’re so noisy, do you want me to do it again?

Yui: ….. !

Kino: Haha, that face! The expressions you make are really interesting after all.

Once we got home, I’ll make sure to give you more torment, okay?

208 notes · View notes

lonelypond · 3 years

Text

Parent Trap, Ch. 8

NicoMaki, NozoEli, Love Live, 3K, 8/?

A chapter full of conversations.

And We Talk

Clack...clack, light but solid, bamboo striking bamboo, Nico sliding closer to Umi, the pace of her blows picking up, as Umi manuevered her sword to parry, easily absorbing the increasingly frantic energy Nico forced into each strike. Sensing Nico’s flagging stamina, Umi dropped to one knee, rising with a strike that forced Nico to block behind her, Umi’s blade sliding off, and Nico leaping into a overhand strike, which Umi parried and then forced Nico’s sword down.

“So are you going to tell me now why you’re paying me three times my normal rate to choreograph a fight scene for you.”

Nico stepped back, freeing her sword, then attacking again, sliding forward, dodging to the side, pushing back, but found Umi always there to calmly parry.

“It’s like a dance.” Nico struck Umi’s sword rapidly and repeatedly as she slid to the right, then pushed forward, Umi responding to each movement.

“Perhaps.” Umi held up a hand, “Let’s take a water break.”

“If you need one. Nico’s fine.”

Umi raised an eyebrow at the obvious sweat rolling down Nico’s face. Nico scowled as she swiped a forearm over her forehead. “It’s hot in here.”

“You were too hasty. I prefer to work at half speed to perfect techniques.”

“Nico needed a workout.”

Umi chuckled, “My training dummy rates are much cheaper than even my stunt choreography hourly.”

Nico grabbed her water bottle, “Ha! Nico will pay both.”

Umi watched, concerned. She didn’t know Nico that well, but something was obviously disturbing her. Nico sat on the bench, slumping forward, head hanging down, more than physical exhaustion weighting her.

“Hypothetically…” Nico began.

“Yes?”

“Let’s say you were a guy and you found out you had a child you didn’t know about.” Nico glanced up, her ruby eyes challenging Umi to flinch, but Umi remained solid. “What would you do?”

“Everything I could to help the mother.”

“Just like that.”

Umi shrugged, “If I had a child, I would have had a committed relationship with the mother of the child. If she chose not to include me at first, but then later reached out, that does nothing to change my responsibility as a parent or my affection as a…” Umi stumbled, Nico leaned forward, curious. Umi had always been almost prudish about her relationship with Kotori, “a former paramor.”

“No one night stands.”

“No.”

Nico raised her water bottle in a salute.

“Is this about Maki?”

“I thought you didn’t spend time on TWIG?”

“Kotori does.”

“Nico knew that. What does she think?”

“You never looked like you had baby weight. And she wants to design you a dress.”

“We’ll talk. And not hypothetically, like Nico’s question.”

Umi did a slow sword sequence as she considered how to continue the conversation. “What does this hypothetical guy want?”

“Romance, love, being there...the complete package. ” Nico was slumped again.

“Can’t Maki be part of the complete package?”

Nico glared. “It’s not that easy. Everything’s backwards. Nico’s backwards.”

Umi, not letting Nico look away, went through a series of movements that made Umi look like a river rolling along in its bed, graceful, surging, continuing. “Some things are just natural, Nico.”

“Not with everyone who has a phone and the TWIG app watching.”

Umi settled into ready pose. “So close the app. Step off the stage. Seize the opportunity.”

Nico had her sword in both hands, “Opportunity?”

“Yes.”

“Nico’s not sure. Last time Nico checked it was a locked door. No knocking. No open window. No welcome mat.”

“And you gave up?" Umi chuckled, "Doesn’t sound like Nico.”

“No.” Nico slid into attack position, shoulders squared. “It doesn’t.”

And the dance began.

###

Nico was showered, locked in the Ayase-Tojo spare room, and ready to get back into the conversation. Texting. Sexting. Remind Maki of the good things. The sexy things. The fun things. The Nico things.

N: Nico misses seeing your nightly pajama snaps.

M: Dia’s been throwing up all day.

So sexting out, sympathetic in. At least Maki was texting. And mentioning Dia instead of aggressively avoiding the name.

N: Can Nico help?

M: Don’t distract me while I’m trying to watch a using your washing machine tutorial. Laundry is not in the nanny’s job description.

N: You don’t know how to do laundry...it’s easy, open the lid, put the clothes in, put detergent somewhere, push a few buttons. Most laundry machines are super instructive.

M: I have to be careful. It’s Dia’s things. Mama didn’t pack enough for throwing up. And Dia threw up in the bag. She didn’t like the car ride. Or lunch.

N: Is she allergic to something? Are you keeping her hydrated?

M: I know how to take care of my daughter.

N: Right, Dr. Maki.

M: ಠಿ_ಠ

N: I’m sure the laundry will be fine. Text Nico sometime (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

M: (🖒^^)b

###

Maki had finally gotten Dia to sleep, put on some Chopin, and collapsed into the couch when there was a thud at the door. She pulled herself up by the couch arm to see Raye standing there, coat and hat on, headphones off for once, and her backpack on the floor.

“My ride’s here.” Raye announced.

“Your ride?”

“Dr. Nishikino agreed that I could take my month’s leave now.”

“What do you mean?” The panic in her own voice was grating.

Raye made a skutching noise, “I’m a live in nanny in Chicago, with a personal chef on call, not a Cheesehead hostage eating frozen pizza two meals a day.” An eyeroll and a gesture toward upstairs,”I said goodbye to Dia.”

“You can’t leave...I don’t…”

“You’ll be okay, Maki. You’re a mom. Moms know what to do.”

Was there some kind of Mom superpowers that kicked in when you were alone with your child? Maki had never been alone with Dia without someone in shouting distance. Everyone she trusted was five hours away.

###

#Nico was trending. Just #Nico, not #ThatKillerSmile. Pics of her and Umi sparring, Nico’s kiss on Umi’s cheek when she said goodbye...whoever took that had a top tier zoom lens. Influencers were reposting older pics.

Nico’s phone pinged. Tsubasa. Nico picked up.

“Hey, how’s the tour?”

“Finished. Back in Chicago. Throwing a rave Wednesday. Drop by.”

“Nico will be in bed by six. Shooting for the video the next day.”

“Too bad. You could have brought Maki and hung out with Honoka.”

“Oh, Honoka, huh?”

“Yeah, she’s great. We’re really having fun. And no pressure.”

“Good for you. But Maki’s in Wisconsin anyway. Staying away from snap crazy stalkers.”

“Oh.”

That was a tone.

“Oh?”

“That’s the other reason I called. Some PR firm offered A-Rise a lot of money to boost pics of you with anyone but Maki on TWIG.”

Nico felt her lip rise in a sneer as suspicions started to gather. “That’s why Nico’s trending.”

“Probably.”

“Do you know who?”

“I texted Cocoro their name. Turns out they represent, among other clients, the Nishikino Medical Group.”

A shrewd, calculated move. Nico was impressed. And livid. But red hot anger wouldn’t do her any good now. She needed to counter. Or ignore. But she definitely needed to make sure Maki wasn’t thinking she was out there swinging for new partners.

“Nico?”

“Sorry, Nico was thinking. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Cameo in That Killer Smile.”

“You got it. Just not too early in the day. But think about coming to the party. You need some fun too.”

“Maybe Nico will take a nap.”

“Not much else to do with Maki in Wisconsin. Bet you have some good visuals though.” Tsubaba's tone was a conspiracy invitation.

Nico's reply was curt. “We’re done.”

Tsubasa laughed as the call cut.

One, disrespectful. Two, Nico didn’t need to be reminded of how Maki blew everyone else off the hot curve. Nico had to scheme.

###

Lilo and Stitch for the fifth time that day. Maki was about to claw off her ears.

“NICO!”

The Nico cries had stopped until this last viewing. Maki could see Dia was getting tired and cranky. Maki was also getting tired and cranky. Maki checked the time. One a.m. She should have never let Nico get into the habit of singing Dia a lullaby over the phone.

“SING!”

“Nico’s asleep, bun.”

Dia jumped off the couch and raced to the door, “Nico!”

Repetitive firmness was a necessity with Dia. Never retreat from a decision. “It’s time for sleeping, Dia. Nico’s asleep. You should be asleep. Mama is tired.” Talking about herself in the third person. Sure sign of exhaustion. “C’mon, Dia, let’s get your pajamas on and put you in bed.”

“Tsuki!”

Tsuki had fallen behind the couch, Maki picked her up, and Dia ran to grab her, then screamed “Nico Nico Ni!” right in Maki’s face. It took all of Maki’s remaining self control not to react to the volume. She picked up Dia, did a quick visual check of Dia's clothes to make sure there weren’t any closures that might interfere with sleep, grabbed her laptop with her other hand, and marched upstairs. She put Dia down gently, taking extra care not to let her frustration turn into excess energy that would unsettle Dia further.

“Nico!” The demands were getting weaker, Dia would sleep soon if she didn’t kick into tantrum gear.

“We’re going to call her, bun. Just let Mama set this up.”

Maki flipped up her laptop, moved the EFF.org sticker, hit video call. Nico sounded sleepy and had some kind of green goop on her face. Maki just stared for a minute. Nico did the weirdest, cutest things.

“Maki? What’s wrong?”

Maki woke up from her imagining what it would be like to spend the night in Nico's arms, what the green goop would smell like. Avocado probably. “Sing to Dia.”

“What? Did something happened?” Wide awake Nico.

Maki could hear Dia pulling herself up on the crib rail, “NICO!”

“Hi Dia.” Nico waved.

“Look, just sing, make sure she doesn’t fall out of the crib, and text me if she’s not settling down.” Maki let her face relax, knowing she looked exhausted, “I just need a few minutes.”

“Okay, Nico’s on it”

Maki remembered the earlier part of the day. “No Elvis.”

“What?” Nico shook her head, sitting up, setting her phone on her nightstand, “Never mind, just text Nico sometime.”

“Okay.”

“Nico’s got this. Get some air.”

“Thank you.”

“Thanks for calling Nico. I missed seeing your face. Now go look at some stars.” Nico smiled. “Hi Dia. Your pretty mama is going to go look at stars and Nico’s going to teach you her new song.”

“Sing!”

“That’s right. You’re Nico’s first audience. So pay attention.”

Dia had settled back down. Maki put the laptop at a level where Dia could see Nico through the crib bars and as Nico started singing, backed quietly out of the room.

###

Stars. Inhale. Cold air. No sense of time passing. Maki half dozing, maybe actually asleep for an hour or two. Nico was keeping an eye on Dia. That was a calming thought. Was that good? Maki realized she only had vague panic flashes of her last IRL encounter with Nico, Eli calling and saying something about Nozomi and paperwork and then fear kicking in. Maki didn’t have the mental bandwidth for any news that might trigger another explosion of emotion so talking to Eli was going to have to be another day thing. She reached into her pocket for her phone, to check notifications. A message from her mother, probably about Raye; Eli, not going to deal with that now; and Honoka. Maki hit play.

“Hey, Maki! Tsubasa’s throwing a huge party and invited you and Nico. So you should really come. It’ll be so much fun. Tsubasa’s gonna have a private karaoke room, and an entire arcade and the best DJ in the world. We gotta hang out.”

Party? Why hadn’t Nico mentioned it? Maki flicked over to TWIG, searching #NICO...Nico kissing Umi on the cheek, Nico with her arms around a group of scantily dressed women, Nico at a concert, leaning down into the crowd, Nico writing her phone number on a barista’s stomach…

Maki hit call, “What the hell are you doing?’

Nico sounded sleepy. “Maki?!!?!”

“Yes, Maki, your girlfriend, not that that barista would know that when she called you.”

“What barista? Maki, what’s going on? I just got Dia to sleep. She’s so cute.”

“We got invited to a party and you didn’t tell me.”

“DId Tsubasa call you?” Nico’s question was sharp.

“No, Honoka.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind. Tsubasa and Nico have different opinions on dating.”

“Does yours include giving random women your phone number. And why are you kissing Umi?”

“Slow down. Let Nico catch up.” A pause, “Dia’s still sleeping calmly. Nico does an excellent lullaby. Now what did you do?”

“Searched TWIG to see what you were up to.” Saying it out loud, Maki felt a bit sheepish.

“Cyber stalking Nico. Classy.” Nico hummed, obviously searching through pics. “The Umi kiss was friendly, the barista pic is Photoshopped, and Nico is at home in bed and has been since 7 p.m. getting her beauty sleep before a video shoot at 5 in the morning.” An inhale, “And why you’re seeing pics of Nico with everyone else in the universe is because your parents PR firm is paying influencers to flood the algorithim with pics of Nico and anyone but you.”

“They’re not.”

“They are. A-Rise got approached. Nico has receipts. I can forward you emails.”

Maki was silent.

“And the reason there aren’t pics of us is because you’re in Wisconsin at an undisclosed location because your parents think Nico is going to steal you.”

“I don’t care what my parents think.” Maki felt pressured, with a sudden urge to bolt for the woods.

“If that’s true then why are you in Wisconsin?” Nico sounded annoyed.

“Just shut up for a minute…”

Silence. Maki heard what she’d snapped at Nico echo.

“Good night, Maki.”

“Wait, Nico, I just…”

Call ended. Maki leaned forward, fingertips barely clinging to her phone. How did this work? How exactly did this happen? What had Eli said?

###

“Oh, hi, Maki…” Eli was on the couch, eating chocolate ice cream and watching a production of Swan Lake.

“Why did you call?”

“What did Nico tell you?”

“We're not talking about Nico, Eli.” Maki’s voice had no chill. “Paperwork. Nozomi. What did that mean?”

“Ummm…” No matter how much Eli had rehearsed this in her head, telling Maki was not easy. She glanced toward the door of the spare room. Nico had gone to bed hours ago because of an early set call. So no interruptions. “When I started working on the procedures, Nico was the first person I asked to help. Nico’s always the first person I ask when I need any kind of help. She’s amazing.”

Eli had expected some response from Maki, but no, just waiting, judging silence.

“Okay…” Eli coughed nervously, "So Nico donated eggs, but absolutely refused to be an anonymous donor. She wanted a family but not until she met someone she wanted to marry and was ready to stop touring as much as she had been. So I banked most of her eggs and used the rest in my early tests.”

“So Nico wasn’t just an anonymous donor?”

“No.” Eli laughed, “She was very clear about no little Nico’s running around without her knowing about it. She’s furious right now.”

Maki sounded angry. “How did it happen? Did it happen? Is Nico really Dia’s...”

Eli paused Swan Lake, and headed to the freezer to put the ice cream away. Melting chocolate all over the couch was too easy a tease target for Nozomi. “As far as I can unravel, when Nico came back for her ultrasound to make sure everything was okay after the donation, Nozomi was there and altered Nico’s paperwork. So Nico was in the system all the time, but you were the first and only to match.” Eli pondered whether or not making a pot of coffee would be worth it at this hour. She wasn’t sleeping. Not having Nozomi next to her was lonely. But Nozomi was still being infuriatingly disingenuous about the turmoil she’d thrown Nico and Maki and Dia into. “I’ve taken Nico off the donor list now that I know.”

“So it is true…” Maki’s voice was a low whisper, barely heard.

“I’m so sorry about this, Maki, but from what I can tell, Nico is your egg donor.”

And then the roar, “Why would Nozomi do that to Nico? To you? What the hell kind of friend alters your medical paperwork? What kind of wife...how can you...that’s so many kinds of illegal, unethical, just awful, Eli. Why would she do that?"

Eli winced. All of that was true. But she knew that Nozomi really believed she’d had Nico’s best interest at heart.

“I know, Maki. I’m trying to explain it to her, how I would feel if I had missed the twins’ first steps or when they said “Mama”...it’s still so amazing, Maki, to watch them be their own people, but you know that, and Nico missed so much of that with Dia and I’m heartbroken for her, I just can’t bear to think about it, but Nozomi really cares, I promise…”

Maki cut Eli off, voice in efficiency professional mode. “Is Nico okay?”

“I don’t know. She’s super busy. Super busy usually means stressed.” Eli rested her forehead on the refrigerator, “Are you okay?”

Maki made a huffing noise. “I have to go check on Dia.”

“Maki....”

And Eli was alone. Or maybe not.

“Better make that coffee, Eli-chi.” Eli turned, Nozomi stood in the archway, Eli’s robe wrapped around her. “I miss you. I haven’t been listening to what you've been trying to say. Help me fix this, my love.”

Eli was going to cry, Nozomi opened up her arms, and Eli rushed to be held, Nozomi’s fingers in her hair, Nozomi’s sweet, soft voice promising everything would work out.

A/N: Shakespeare season. How you?

#NicoMaki #NozoEli #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Ayase Eli #Tojo Nozomi #baby Dia #parent trap #angst

2 notes · View notes

thewritingstar · 4 years

Text

Until My Heart Stops Racing

Pairing: Mitch x Mike (or Bitch as I like to call them, ya know cause Believe x Mitch.....nvm lol)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls

Note: This was a commission for the wonderful @lisathefan who gave me the cutest prompt and I know she loves her crack ships. I hope you enjoy my dear and thanks to my beta, Faxx for helping me!

Word count: 5538

---

The car whipped into the parking space, dirt flying around us and I felt my heart rate finally go back to its normal beating. I looked over to Butch who had a goofy grin and ignoring everything he just did.

“Butch your driving is terrible. Now I get why you fly everywhere.” I groaned as I finally got out of the car. “I swear if Brick saw how you drove this thing... actually I don’t want to think about it.” I thought that speeding was illegal but apparently if the cops can’t even see your car, it's a free pass. And being in touch with the puffs might be a bonus we all have.

Butch let out a laugh before locking the car. “Relaxe Mike, what Brick doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He shrugged and sometimes I wondered how he could even say that. Brick could kill someone with just a glance but when you are a superhuman, and his brother, maybe the effect doesn’t work.

Maybe I should ask Blossom about that.

The beeping of other cars brought me out of my trance as I followed him on the dirt path.

“Anyways, why did you drag me all the way out here?” I turned to see the lights and the signs. “The fair?”

In front of me was the entrance to what could only be deemed as a somehow legal way to make people shell out three hundred dollars on cheap food and even cheaper ride systems. Every kid wanted to go to the fair and, yeah, it was fun when you were five, but now that we had just graduated high school, it seemed more dangerous than fun.

“Yeah, why not?”

I glanced at him and he only smiled widely but something in his eyes had mischief written all over it. “What's the deal?”

He sighed and smirked.

“A little birdy told me you got heart eyes for a certain someone.” Butch threw his arm around my shoulder. “And as the king of romance, I’m gonna help you out.”

Theres always a small tinge of fear whenever Butch gets an idea. It either ends badly where someone gets hurt, usually him or bad in the way that we all get in trouble and the notorious Powerpuff Girls have to get us out of it. But this...this was much worse.

“Butch, what did you do?” I said through gritted teeth. He only laughed at me instead of answering and pushed up towards the gates.

“Relax. Look they are here.” He pointed.

I followed his sight and walking up towards us was Buttercup, Robin and Mitch. Butch let out another laugh, probably because he could hear my heartbeat. Fuck superhearing. Of course Robin opened her mouth. You tell a girl while you’re throwing up that you have the biggest crush on your best friend who wears dark leather, has piercings and makes your heart swoon and think that she can keep her mouth shut. But no, she can’t.

“Hey guys.” Butch waves to him before leaving me to wrap his arms around Buttercup and ignore the public by kissing her square on the lips. PDA is always gross unless you’re the one doing it, so I can’t blame them. Also it's funny to watch her smack his arm.

“Sup Mikey.” Robin smiles smugly. Little demon.

“Hey. Hi Mitch.” He gives me a wave and a nod of the head and I have to mentally tell myself not to blush. Stupid hormons.

“Come on you two.” Robin says and grabs my arm and Mitch’s and forces us towards the carnival’s entrance. “Lets go!”

One of the perks to being besties with the puffs is the mass amount of freebies. Buttercup swiftly pulled out a ticket for each of us and handed it to the ticket collector.

“Sweet, free entrance.” Mitch smiled at me and held up his hand for a fist bump.

I gladly returned the gesture and every time I did so, I wondered if he could feel the electric spark between us. God, I need to stop reading romance novels.

“Alright losers. We’ll see you all later tonight, meet up for fireworks at 9?” Buttercup said and apparently everyone already had a plan that I was not aware of.

“Sounds good to me!” Butch smirked. “BC and I are going to do coupley stuff no one wants to see and Robin said something about henna soooooo.” He looked at me. “Guess Mitchy boy and Mikey are on their own.” I didn’t miss his wink and before I could protest, everyone was walking away.

My mind was now racing as I tried to comprehend what was happening. I realized in this moment that the group had ganged up on us, well specifically me. Mitch probably didn’t even think twice as the group broke up but they were out of their minds if they thought something was going to happen.

“Wanna hit the rides?” He asked.

I take a breath before nodding. We turn into the direction of the ride area and I have to remind myself that he is just a friend. A friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I usually have my emotions in check but for some reason, they want to act up now. All I have to do is get through tonight without embarrassing myself or giving Butch the satisfation of him being the king of romance. As if that were possible.

The area is buzzing with so much energy. There’s little kids whining and screams coming from the various rides. The smells of corn dogs, popcorn and, oddly enough, waffles mixed in the air and I can’t tell if it smells good or not but I know my pockets are gonna be much lighter by the end of the night.

We get into the shortest line for the tickets and it's truly a scam that each ride is a separate cost.

“I don’t feel like dying tonight so I think two rides is good for me.” Mitch says and I laugh a little because it's true. Just watching the swings makes me feel like one of them unhinge and plummet to the ground but that's what I get for being a paranoid person.

“I feel you. How about the rollercoaster and ummm... the spinning ride?” I suggest.

“Sounds good to me.” He smiles and god fucking dammit, those damn dimples.

The line moves as we chat about the newest horror movie coming into theaters and how Mitch saw a certain pair of redheads making out in a car.

“Wait for real?”

“I swear to god dude.” He raised his hand. “Unless some other chick wears a big ass bow, it has to be them.”

“Interesting.” I smile and soon we get called next.

“Hi there boys, how many tickets can I get ya?” the older woman asks.

“Ten.” Mitch says and I reach into my pocket to grab my wallet, that may or may not have a photo of all of our friends and definitely not for the reason that I can see his face at any given time, but Mitch stops me and places the cash in the tin. “I got it.” he says casually and something inside me felt all warm and fuzzy as the row of blue tickets was handed to him.

“Have a nice date night.” The woman says as we walk away and I almost do a double take thinking I heard her wrong. But when I look over to Mitch, he seems unaffected by the words so I just let it slide.

The rollercoaster isn’t as grand or cool as the ones at the theme park, it doesn’t even go upside down but it has a good bit of hills and bumps to give some air time so i guess it will do. The only problem is that these workers don’t care and make Mitch and I sit in the same cart as these two younger kids.

After we get the bars onto us, the ride starts to go. In front of us the girl grabs the boy's arm and I give a small eye roll as we start to climb the lift hill.

“Babe I'm scared.” She cries and he wraps an arm around her shoulders and I’ve never been so jealous of middle schoolers before.

“These carts are so damn small.” Mitch complains. And it's true. The two of us squished in this together leaves no space for our arms. The pressure of our shoulders touching isn’t too bad but it's to the point it almost hurts. “Hold on.” He says and I feel him pull his right arm away from mine and throw it behind us. “Sorry this is better.”

“No, it's cool bro.” I say even though I realize that this boy really just made it ten times harder to breath now.

I can barely grasp my surroundings as the rollercoaster takes its first turn before the drop. I can see the ending of the track as we go down but the only thing my brain is processing is the fingers tightening on my shoulder.

“Holy shit.” I mumble hoping that Mitch doesn’t know how he's affecting me.

We let out screams and shouts as we go up and down, flying around on the track and I try to enjoy myself, I really do. Before long, it's over and Mitch reaches his hand out to help me up and I take it with silence.

“That was fun.” He smiles and I am really happy he ignored his moms protests and got that lip piercing. It suits him.

“Yeah.” Is all I can muster and he gives me a look before walking towards the next ride.

Luckily as we enter this ride, there’s more room. Only our knees touch as we buckle in the seatbelt and I feel myself being able to breathe better.

“Good thing we didn’t eat before getting on here.” I laugh as the lights start to flash.

He snorts and nods. “Robin would have blown chunks either way.”

The ride is a simple circular track with small hills. All it does is follow the path and goes around pretty fast. Simple but a classic. The music begins and soon we feel the cart shift. I'm sitting on the right while Mitch is on the left, next to the exit and he wiggles off his black beanie just for good measure. His light brown hair, slightly damaged from dying it black back in freshman year, is ruffled from hat hair and my god is it cute.

“Fucking love this ride.” Mitch smiles and it begins to pick up the pace.

Soon, we are at full speed, which is fine. Perfectly fine. Except for the fact that the gravity from the ride is pulling me towards Mitch and no matter how tight I hold on, I end up smacked against him. Shoulders touching and I can clearly smell his cologne. It's the scent of sandalwood and campfire and my god does it smell heavenly. Men just smell like nature and I am more than okay with that.

But Mitch doesn’t mind, because why would he? Instead he's laughing and truly enjoying the ride. I smile and laugh too because honestly, it's just fun to spend time with him. The ride is over faster than I wanted and we hop off, slightly dizzy and I walk a little out of line but he catches my arm and pulls me to him.

“Easy dude.” He chuckles and I nudge him playfully and ruffle his hair before he plops on his beanie. Goodbye cute hat hair.

All of a sudden, my shoulder is hit. It was a pretty hard smack and my body jolted to the side as Mitch grabbed me from falling.

“Look a bunch of homos.” I look up and realize that it's some assholes from our school.

Duke Jones and Mark Dalton. Some of the few people who actually try to be douchebags on the regular.

My eyes do heavy eye rolls and I want to scream at them but I've never been a confronting person. My voice is in my throat but Mitch takes a step forward, his hand never leaving my arm.

“And what of it? Really dudes? You think some lame insult is gonna hurt our feelings. You’re lucky I don’t just kick your ass, better enough I can call Buttercup in a second and have your bodies all the way across this place. Grow the fuck up and maybe don’t choke on your toxic masculanity.” He sneered and sometimes I forget that Mitch can be pretty intimidating.

Their eyes widened as Mitch pulled out his phone to show BC’s number. They mutter something before turning and rushing off in a hurry.

“You okay?” He asks me.

“Yeah.” I say. “Sorry you got caught in that.”

“It's not a big deal.”

But it is. It's not a secret that I'm out and proud. Yeah its cool and all to not have to be closeted, even Princess came out last year so its nice to know that someone higher up won’t pick on me, but even then, it sucks. No matter where I go in life, someone will be there with a flame thrower of slurs or anger for something I didn’t choose. As for Mitch, theres something about him being called gay and him not having a hissy fit about it that makes me feel safe. Uhh fuck.

I take a second to recollect myself and Mitch just pulls me from the herds of eyes that saw that fiasco.

“Lets go here.” He points to the hall of mirrors and for some reason it's beginning to get extremely hard to be around him.

But I take a deep breath and push those feelings to the side once again.

The hall of mirrors was by far the lamest thing the fair could have done. Sure, as a little kid it was cool and slightly scary but now, all of our heads could see just above the tips of the mirrors making it lose the effect. It probably would have been more fun if the others were there. Butch would hide behind the mirros trying to scare us before Buttercup sent some lasers his way causing them to bounce everywhere and making us duck and cover. Good times. However, it was just Mitch and me.

While Mitch was walking, I couldn’t stop thinking about those jerks just now. Of course everyone already knew about my preference but Mitch seemed unbothered by being referred to as gay. Probably because he's not some asshole that thinks it's a bad thing, I mean if he did, why would he be friends with me for all this time? He’s just a good person, that's all.

Not to sound like the coming of age kid, but I knew I was into dudes before I could comprehend the idea of love or romance, I just thought they were pretty to look at. Moving to a new city at such a young age was hard for me, not to mention the whole invisible friend that tried to kill everyone. But after everything was said and done, I did in fact make some friends.

The famous superheroes had become my pals and when Buttercup introduced me to Mitch, I think that's when it all went downhill. We became the dynamic duo and everyone always paired us as the best friends, which is true but...it makes me feel guilty.

He turned a corner and I stopped walking. All of a sudden I was lost and staring at a mirror. Just me in my beat up sneakers and the uncertain face I seem to be wearing a lot lately. There's always a time in your life where you stop and contemplate everything, question all your decisions and how nothing truly matters.

“Hey you stopped walking?” Mitch said to me and I looked at him with a shaky smile.

“Sorry. Lost in thought I guess.”

“Care to share?” He asked and leaned against one of the mirrors.

I laughed to myself thinking about what I could possibly say. “Yeah sure Mitch, why don’t I just tell you that I’m in love with you and how it pains me to wake up to know that you will only see me as just a friend. Why don’t I just rip out my heart and put it on a silver platter for you to squash or just confess and kiss you here, ignoring all the states and hopefully pissing off some people?”

“...What?”

My eyes shot open and my eyes met his. He looked at me with confusion and shock. His mouth hung open slightly and it took me a solid three seconds to relaize that my dumb ass had just blurted that all out.

Panic. That's all I could feel as he stared like a deer caught in headlights. I could feel myself on the verge of tears and suddenly the air was too thick as I turned and ran, not caring about the employee telling me I was going the wrong way.

Mitch’s voice echoed behind me but I couldn’t stand to turn and look towards him. To hear the pure rejection and probably the disgust. Throwing away years of friendship for some stupid feelings? What was I thinking?

After nearly hitting my head several times, I made it out and ignored the weird stares and glances people were giving me. All I wanted to do was find Butch and get out of here and hope that I can just pack up and move away for college. Maybe even change my name.

Instead I found myself pushing my way into the bathroom stall and biting my arm to stifle my sobs. I felt like my heart was about to shatter, that all my nightmares where coming true all thanks to my stupid mouth. I was a fool to think that someone like him would even consider me as something more, a complete and utter fool.

“Mike?” A voice called and of course the sneakers peaking outside the stall belonged to Butch.

“What?” I spat bitterly. “Go away.”

I barely heard his sigh. “Dude, I don’t know what happened but suddenly Buttercup saw you burst into here. Really dude, is everything fine? At least come out and talk to us. Plus it smells really bad in here and there's a line of dudes.”

There's some truth to the matter and I wiped my face and pushed open the stall with a little too much force but luckily he grabbed it and just nodded towards the exit.

Robin and Buttercup are standing outside and luckily, I don’t see Mitch.

“Wanna explain what happened?” Robin asks as she hands me a tissue from her purse.

“No. I just wanna go home.”

Buttercup looks arounds then back to me. “Where's Mitch.”

“Probably somewhere and never wants to see me again.” I mumble.

“What?” She asks and looks towards Butch then back to me.

Butch raised his brow. “Mike, did you tell him?”

“Tell him what?” Buttercup asked.

It was at that moment that Buttercup didn’t know that I was practically in love with her best friend. Maybe Robin and Butch planned this together but it didn’t matter, not anymore. I would be losing two friends after this. Great.

“Look. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.” My throat is dry and it hurts and there's no doubt that my face is red and flushed with tears. “I'm just gonna call my mom to come get me.”

“Come on Mike don’t go.” Robin asked and she padded my arm.

“You don’t get it, Robin.” I spat. “You don’t understand what I just did. Thanks to someone’s dumb idea, I now lost my best friend. And for what? Did we really think he would like me back? That he could even see me in such a way? I don’t even know if he’s gay or let alone into dudes. But who gives fuck? I don’t.”

Butch took a step towards me but my anger only rose. “C’mon Mike I'm sure-”

“This was a stupid idea Butch!” I yelled and at that moment I didn’t care what anyone thought. I was embarrassed and hurt. “I just want to be alone.” I pushed past him and the others, ignoring everything they were saying because it didn’t matter any more.

It didn’t matter that my friends tried to help something that shouldn’t have even been considered. It was just a stupid crush. Nothing more, nothing less. Hopefully by the new semester, it would be gone and out of my system…. hopefully. A stupid crush that I’d been harboring for years and titling on a scale of something more.

It wasn’t long until my tears dried and I found myself among the section of carnival games. All of the rigged and hard to win and if you did win, it would be a small sappy prize that you would toss into a garbage bag or try to sell for a nickel at a garage sale.

There were darts and guessing the weight of a small pig. The basketball tossing and hitting the giant hammer looked tempting but instead I walked to the game that no one had ever won. Ring toss. A game of chance and so incredibly rigged, it's a miracle if one prize is won in a year.

Without a second thought, I gave up a fresh twenty dollar bill and the girl working, who clearly hated her job, handed me the biggest bucket of rings. Enough to keep me entertained until I call my mom or muster up enough courage to ask Butch for a ride back like a dog with its tail inbetween its legs.

I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I could be okay with this. But I was stupid. Stupid to think that the boy I had a crush on, one of my best friends, would like me back, or even be into dudes for that matter. But no, instead of having my secret crush kept, ya know, a secret, the one person who shouldn’t know, did.

I tossed another ring into the sea of bottles, the high pitched clinking echoed for just a moment as another was tossed. Maybe this was pointless. Maybe trying to figure out feelings was a waste of time because in all honesty, I never knew.

Like the plastic rings people pay way too much for, you jump and you think you’ll land on that bottle, secure the prize and show everyone up. Prove that you can do the impossible.

But then you miss and reality comes back. The bucket dwindles down and soon you’re left with nothing but regret for trying and shorting eight bucks.

“Hey.”

I turned, of course he would follow me. Why wouldn’t he? He was probably here just to tell me to let it go and sweep it under the rug, and say it's not weird when it totally is. Or he was going to come out and say that maybe our friendship has come to its expiration date.

“Oh. Hey.” I threw another one, missing again.

I tried not to care as he stood next to me but I passed him the bucket and he took his own shot, missing, just like me.

“Have you been crying?” He asked and there was no way around it.

“Yep.” I popped the p and threw another ring. “Look Mitch, I’m sorry what I said-”

“Don’t be.”.

“Most guys would just push someone like me away if that happened.”

He hummed and tossed a ring, missing. “Well, I’m not like most guys and I thought that was pretty clear. Especially after those jerks. I value your friendship too much to get worried or upset.”

I looked over at him, and that in itself was a mistake, because it would be just my luck that the other carnival games with their bright flashing lights would surround him and make it seem like he was glowing. The lights soften his features, a small twinkle on the black orb of his earring and making those very so light freckles appear.

Almost like a painting hung up in a museum. You think the trip is boring, and for the most part it is. A few interesting things here and there but just as you are about to leave, you find a room you hadn’t explored. It could be nothing and you could leave, forgetting everything in the last three hours and moving on with your life.

Or it could be life changing. As if when you walked in there, the most captivating painting was on that wall and you wonder how you skipped it in the first place. You stare at it, taking in the picture itself and the meaning. Stepping closer and looking at the paint strokes, the time taken to make this is clear and it's full of questions and mystery. The small plaque on the wall fails to answer.

He picked up the last ring. It twirled in his fingertips unsure of where to go.

“I kept thinking, you know.” He said. “I remember watching a show, a random cartoon and an ad for a pride festival popped up. I thought nothing of it, didn’t know what it meant at the time but my father did. He was outraged and changed the channel, screamed and shouted saying that if his son ever was caught doing something like that…” Mitch paused and closed his palm.

I could see the hurt in his eyes as he sighed.

“Then he would have no son. So when I found out what it all meant and learned about myself....I thought it would be best to never act on it. No matter how much I wanted to look towards another guy, I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry Mitch, I didn’t know.” And it was the truth. I wanted to mentally slap myself for not realizing that he was, in fact, gay as well. Way to go Mike, your gay-dar is broken. But then again, you can’t just tell a sexuality clear as day. I can’t blame him for hiding it, after everything with his dad.

He sighed again. “But when you told me that. Told me you wanted me, I think I started to realize that I would rather have something I want no matter what others think of me. I envy how you can just come out and be proud, as you should, but I wish I was that brave instead of a coward.”

“Mitch.” I slid my hand on top of his cautiously. He didn’t flinch or have any indication of pulling away. “I’m scared every day. Scared that someone might yell something offensive or even try to hurt me. Just like those assholes did earlier.But I can’t stop those things from happening but I can choose to not let them affect me. It's hard but you know you’re surrounded by people who care about you. Plus your best friend is an actual superhero.”

“I know, I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to date such a fuck up like me.”

Fuck up? Did this boy really think that?

“I would never see you as that.” I said honestly. “It's normal for us to have conflicting feelings when someone in our life isn't supportive. It's never gonna be a walk in the park or smooth sailing but when you're with someone who cares about you, it makes it easier.”

He sighed for the hundredth time. It was clear the gears in his mind were running at full steam and he looked at the ring in his hand then to the bottles.

“I guess you’re right Mike. I guess I was thrown off that the dude I've liked since kindergarten likes me back.” He looked towards me and tossed the ring, not bothering to pay attention. “I just hope you haven't changed you mind-”

The next thing I know, my hand is tugging on his worn leather collar and his lips are pressed to mine.

I never thought that my first kiss would be as enchanting as this. You always think it's magical and fulfilling but in reality it's probably a mess of lips that don’t move quite as well and somehow there's a tongue doing whatever it wants. I guess I can’t count this as my first kiss because Robin had peaked me on the lips in third grade, also giving me the clear sexual awakening of how I never want another woman to come near me again, but this was different.

He tasted like cotton candy which I should find gross and oddly weird but I didn’t mind one bit. At the beginning there was a bit of hesitation, or maybe he was caught off guard since I did interrupt him but I couldn’t help myself. Stupid hormones. He wasted no time kissing me back and I even felt a hand on my waist pulling towards him. Although it lasted only a few mere seconds, it was like a lifetime of waiting had lifted.

When we pulled apart, loud speakers and alarms went off above us. I looked towards the game, I noticed one single plastic ring was stuck on the bottle. The worker smiled at us before nodding.

“Wow, I can’t believe you made it, especially without looking.” She said and I looked to Mitch who just shrugged.

“What? You kissed me, I just threw it.” He smiled brightly and I hugged him.

“So what will it be?” I asked him and he turned towards the prizes.

“Well, what about that dinosaur?”

“I love dinosaurs.”

Mitch smiled. “I know.”

The worker used a ladder to climb and retrieve the massive blue dinosaur prize. As a kid, i used to dream of winning such a cool thing but know, I think I got something better. Mitch handed it to me with a blush and I looked at it with just as much pink on my cheeks.

“Ya know.” Mitch started. “I have enough tickets for one last ride. Maybe the ferris wheel?”

“That sounds good.” He reached out his hand and I took it. Before I could blink, I felt his lips press against my cheek.

“I don’t like to see you cry.” He said.

I simply hummed and we walked hand in hand to the ferris wheel before deciding to give the prize to some kids. He handed the tickets to the worker as we climbed into the cart and began to go up. He threw his arm over my shoulder like he did on the rollercoaster, but this time, I leaned against him and let those emotions I tried to keep at bay, run wild.

“I’m really glad Butch dragged me here.” I said honestly and Mitch only laughed and silenced me with his lips pressed against mine.

“Me too.”

When we pulled apart, a few questions still lingered in my mind.

“You mean, you’ve liked me this entire time? And you knew I was gay?” I asked hesitantly. It wasn’t a secret, the last part at least.

He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick he's had since he was little. “I mean I wasn’t hundred percent sure, I thought maybe it was a one time thing or just happened occasionally. But as we got older, more specifically high school, I think that's when it hit me.” He sighed. “All I knew was that I wanted to be with you until my heart stopped racing.”

His eyes met mine. I’ve always hated when people didn’t see the beauty in brown eyes. They think they are dull and lifeless, only one hue but that's far from the truth. Mitch’s eyes had spots of gold and a slight tint of green, breathtaking to say the least.

“I mean it’s a shame we spent our high school years just as friends.” My hand went on top of his. “But I’d rather have you as my friend instead of losing you so I understand. But what about your dad? Will be okay with us dating-or well I assume we should-”

“I don’t care about his opinion of us. Plus we would be idiots not to date at this point. If he doesn’t accept. That's his loss not mine.” His gaze went to the sky where a firework exploded.

The colors lit up in the sky and we realized we got lucky as our cart stopped at the very top. It felt unreal to be sitting next to my best friend and now, boyfriend. There's always moments in your life that you feel like were meant to be. Maybe it's the career you chose or the person you marry. Milestones that are already set in stone and fate just happens to bring you together, all that stuff. And as I looked at him through heavy lashes I thought that maybe, just maybe, the stars aligned on this one.

That or I would have to admit that Butch is the king of romance, even though he did literally nothing today and this was all me. Either way, Mikey boy’s got a man.

I hope you enjoyed love!!

#Mitch x mike #mike x Mitch ppg #ppg #ppg fic #fanfic commissions

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kaweeella · 3 years

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To Be The Best Me

Name still a work in progress.

Chapter 2- The Legality Is Questionable, So Don’t Ask Questions

Place your bets for Tsuzuru’s pokemon now, folks.

~~~

At the end of the day Izumi closes the book she was teaching from.

“I think today was pretty productive.”

“Yeah!” Sakuya puts his notes into his bag, his eevee yipping in agreement.

Izumi realizes something.

“What is it?” Sakuya notices the look on her face.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on staying here very long…” She admits. “I don’t have a place to stay.” And plane tickets are hell to cancel.

“Don’t worry! The school has a dorm!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda small,” To be expected, there’s only one classroom and only so many people can be legally taught in one room. It’s a fire hazard. “Mr. Matsukawa said that there’s a room specifically for the head teacher, which I guess would be you.” Considering she’s the only teacher? Yeah, probably.

“Alright, lead the way.”

They arrive at the dorms. In the common area Isuke is doing paperwork. He gives them a smile and wave.

“Ms. Tachibana,” Sakuya starts. “If you were only planning to stay a little while, why’d you bring so much stuff?”

“I don’t know, I thought maybe I could go sight seeing for a while before heading home. Plus I’m a cautious packer.” She then also realizes there are things she’s going to need to grab from her house. She wouldn’t be canceling the flight yet, and one ways are cheaper. Before any of that, though, she needs to find a substitute. Maybe it’s the fact that the school was on the brink of demolition when under his care, but Isuke doesn’t seem like the best choice.

“Alright, tomorrow we’ll be looking for more students and teachers.” Pokemon training isn’t required education, and the building looks a little worse for wear, so it’s understandable that people wouldn’t be jumping at the opportunity to sign their kids up.

“Why?”

“Sakuya, this can’t be a school with only one student and teacher. That’s just a tutoring session.” And she promised a full functioning school.

“Okay, it was getting a little lonely here.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?”

“Matsukawa, he needs to socialize with other kids his age.”

Their talk is interrupted with the sound of a gurgling stomach.

“Sorry…” Sakuya mumbles.

“I suppose that’s my cue to start dinner.” Isuke gets up and heads to the kitchen.

Izumi can see the light in Sakuya’s eyes die a little.

When Isuke is done, Izumi stares in horror at the plate in front of her. It hardly looks edible. But looks aren’t everything, right? Maybe it tastes better than it looks.

No, it’s just as bad as she feared.

“Alright, I’m cooking.” She grabs up the food and takes it to the kitchen. She can work with this. She’s worked with worse.

She quickly whips up some curry using the food and some stuff she can find in the kitchen.

“Here it is!” She says, putting the pot on the table.

“This is really good!” Sakuya says.

“How did you prepare this so fast? Did you use roux?”

Izumi laughs, but stops when she sees she’s the only one. “Oh my god you’re serious. You can’t make good curry with that store bought stuff. I didn’t see any in the kitchen, but if you have bought them, I’m throwing them away.”

“Right, of course.”

When they’re done eating Sakuya shows her her room. He and Isuke also help bring up her suitcase.

She lets out spinda and pachirisu to get used to their new home while she unpacks.

“So how do you guys think we’ll attract students?”

Pachirisu shuffles and a pink heart appears.

“No, Patch, not like that…”

“Spi spin!” Spinda calls, stumbling around.

She thinks. “Maybe I could use the advertisement as a lesson, as well.”

The next day she takes Sakuya out to a public battle area.

“Alright Sakuya. Today will be your first battle!”

“Really?”

“Yep. I’ll only be using spinda, so don’t worry about that.”

They get into proper position, Izumi lets pachirisu watch nearby.

“Alright Sakuya, give it your all!”

“Right!”

“Spinda use tackle!”

Spinda lunges towards eevee, almost missing, knocking him back.

“Eevee! Use covet!”

Eevee runs towards spinda and swipes at her.

“Good job, Sakuya!”

“Thanks!”

“Now, spinda use copycat!”

Spinda stumbles forward and slashes at eevee in a similar manner.

“What’s that?”

“Copycat allows the pokemon to use the move the opponent used just before it.”

“Cool! Eevee, use sand attack!”

He kicks up sand as the wind picks up, sending it at spinda.

“You know what to do!”

Spinda lunges forwards to tackle, but misses.

“Tackle!”

Eevee hits the spinda and she stumbles. The spinda pushes back, hitting eevee.

“Woah, you didn’t even tell her to do that!”

Izumi looks away and rubs the back of her neck. “Yeah, it’s not all that impressive.” She only knows two moves.

“Sand attack!”

Eevee kicks up dirt and spinda tackles him. After some back and forth, Sakuya comes out victorious.

“Congrats on winning your first battle!”

“Thank you!”

She hands him some money.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s customary for the loser to give money to the victor.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“No, you earned it.”

“Ah, thank you.” He sheepishly takes it.

They turn to grab their stuff when Izumi notices they drew someone’s attention.

“Hey! Are you interested in joining our trainer school?”

“Do you work there?”

“Yep! I’m the main teacher.”

“Okay.”

“Good to meet you, I’m Izumi Tachibana.”

“Masumi Usui. I love you.”

Izumi lets out an awkward laugh. “What?”

“Oh hey Masumi!” Sakuya runs over.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, we went to the same school before. He’s a year behind me.”

“So Masumi, do you have your own pokemon?”

“No…”

“That’s alright, I’ll help you catch one!” Masumi perks up. Well this’ll be an experience. “You saw spinda, and this is pachirisu.” The little squirrel climbs up to get a good look at him. He grabs him and holds him out.

“Ah, be careful-” Before she can let out a proper warning, pachirisu discharges, causing Masumi to throw him.

The three of them run after him.

“Hashiru!” They hear someone yell. Suddenly patchiru is grabbed out of the air by a machamp.

“Thank you so much.” Izumi takes back pachirisu, who skitters onto her shoulder.

“No problem.” The man smiles.

“Sorry…” Masumi says.

“No, I should be the one apologizing. It’s not your fault.”

“Machamps are pokemon that evolve through trade, right?” Sakuya asks.

“Yeah, I got him from my brother to help around the house.”

“You have a machamp… just to do house chores?” Izumi looks at him.

“Well it’s good to have an extra pair of hands or two, but we also play soccer.”

A machamp… to play soccer…

“We met him when he was a machop and when he saw us playing he wanted to play too. He’s really gentle. I also have a leavanny but I leave her at home.”

“You see, leavanny makes sense to take care of kids.” She thinks for a moment. “So you’ve had these guys for a long time, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like to teach at my school?”

“W… what?”

“Do you wanna teach at my school? We have some rooms if you wanna use one. Free meals.”

“I don’t have any experience.”

“That’s fine! You seem to know a lot, and I’m gonna be heading out in a little while and I’ll need someone to watch the class. You don’t need teaching experience to be a sub.”

“I guess… sure. Can I meet the class?”

She steps to the side. Sakuya is smiling and Masumi is glaring at him. “Here they are.”

The man thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure what I was expecting from someone willing to hire a stranger off the street.”

“Izumi Tachibana! I hope you enjoy working with us!”

“Tsuzuru Minagi.”

“Alright. I was just planning on heading back, and I need to show Masumi around, wanna come with?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Oh, I should mention,” She turns to Masumi. “If you wanna stay in the dorm you’re gonna need permission from your parents.”

“You do?” Sakuya asks.

“Yes…” She looks at him. “Sakuya, please tell me you got permission to stay in the dorm.”

…

“Oh my god this has been a kidnapping.”

“It’s not kidnapping if I-”

“How old are you?”

“17.”

“It’s a kidnapping, Sakuya. We’re getting permission for you.”

“How do you not know this?” Tsuzuru asks.

“I only started working there yesterday!”

“And you’re allowed to hire people?”

“You should’ve seen how I got hired. Not important right now. Come on, we’re going back to the dorms and calling your parents.”

“I’ll give you my guardians number.”

“You probably won’t get an answer.”

When they get back to the dorm, Izumi nearly knocks the door off its hinges.

“You didn’t contact his guardians?!”

“Ah!” He jumps.

“Matsukawa that’s a crime! Why didn’t you?”

“He told me not to worry about it!”

“Oh yeah, that’d hold up in court!” She grabs the phone and starts to dial. “Hello, am I speaking to the guardians of Sakuya Sakuma?”

The person on the other end sighs. “Yes. What about him?”

“I’m a part of the Mankai pokemon school, I was wondering if it’s okay if he stays in our care, we have a dorm-”

“Yes. Keep him.”

“Okay, have a good day.” She hangs up. “Alright Sakuya, you’re good to stay.”

He gives a small smile and a thumbs up.

She dials the number Masumi gave her. They don’t pick up.

“Hello, I am Izumi Tachibana, the head teacher at Mankai pokemon school. Your son, Masumi, wants to join our school and stay at our dorms. I need your permission for it, so call back when you can!” She leaves a message.

“I told you he wouldn’t pick up…”

“Regardless, I still needed to ask him. At least now he knows and can call back.”

“So who’re they?”

“This is Masumi, our newest student, and Tsuzuru, our newest teacher.”

“Good to meet you.” Tsuzuru says.

Masumi just looks at him.

“So now let’s start the tour!” She starts to show them around before pausing. “Matsukawa, start the tour!”

“What? Why me?”

“Because I just got here yesterday. You know the place better than I do.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

#a3!#a3! sakuya #a3! masumi #a3! tsuzuru #a3! act! addict! actors!#act addict actors #act addict actors au #pokemon au #a3! fanfic

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

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Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 3)

So yeah, this is gonna be my first time writing for zutara, so I have no idea how well that will be received. I know that this fandom doesn’t seem to like zutara so wish me luck lol.

Sokka always liked fish, particularly boop boops because of their silly name. He also liked blue marlin.

She likes stingrays--especially bluespotted ribbon tail--the most but they call her starfish.

She has come to associate her friends with marine life, a habit that formed at childhood. One that she and Zuko have never outgrown. At one point they had addressed each other by the names of sea animals.

Zuko got the name stingray after an incident where he’d jammed a fork into an outlet when Ozai wasn’t watching. It scarred his face and their father was under fire, for the first time, for child neglect.

Sokka was a clownfish because he was the comedian in the group and he had been until his departure. Sailfish has been bestowed upon Katara after dolphin had been taken from her and given to Ursa. Mother was gentle and docile like a dolphin. Katara is too but she is also a fast swimmer. She can swim further out into the ocean than any of them and sailfish are known for their speed. TyLee is also loving and sweet but as kids they had run out of gentle animals to compare her to so they chose the pretty betta fish because TyLee has always been pretty. Eventually they learned about cuttlefish and that became her nickname; it sounds close enough to cuddle for them.

Aang is an obvious angelfish.

Where Katara, Ursa, Tylee, and Aang are kind and caring, Toph is a shark. She’s fun and dangerous and with a razor sharp tongue. She is among Chan, Jet and Roun-Jian who have been nicknamed Hammerhead, Sand, and Thresher respectively. The name Mackerel was afforded to Toph despite her being the smallest of them.

Mai is the piranha mostly because she had been afraid of them at one point and they like to joke that Tom-Tom is a barancel because he clings to Mai like one. Iroh is a serene turtle and Suki is lucky koi.

Ozai is and will always be a crab because is general outlook on life is grumpy. Zhao, the weathered fisherman is a slick and shady eel and their old history teacher Long-Feng is an angler fish; it looks welcoming on the surface but is ugly within. And the bartender is a prickly urchin. They steer clear of he and his wife June, who they have called the Kraken.

It was a fun game and to this day she has a tendency, even if it is out of habit, to try to decide which sea animal a newcomer is.

.oOo.

Azula wakes up on the sofa. It is still raining, fat droplets plop upon the lighthouse. There are less of them but it is still a steady stream. She senses that the worst of it has come to pass and it is probably safe to go outside if she doesn’t mind getting wet. In fact, most people do go out. They emerge skeptically from their homes, reluctant to assess the damage, but eager to just get it over with. It is routine in their little harbor town.

The people of Port Tui-La are slowly awakening, Azula watches them trickle outside of their homes to inspect them. Many of them, the ones who live more inland, skip this and prioritize checking on their shops or their boats. Though boats are almost always a lost cause, hence why Ozai keeps theirs in a boat house. The news of three summers ago was when recreational fisher, Pathik boldly declared that he had found his janky wooden ship fully intact in a rocky alcove while the Cod Man bellowed, “my fishing ship!” to the fleeing grey clouds.

She watches the Cod seller’s car whip down the road, he is always the first to arrive at the docks. Azula rolls her eyes, she can already hear him crying out.

“He must have great insurance.” Zuko grumbles as he groggily wipes his eyes. “I hope he does.”

“Maybe he won’t need it this time?” Azula stretches her arms.

“Ha!” Zuko bursts. “I bet he’ll be La-bsters, crying about it within the hour.”

“If La-bsters is still standing.” Azula says dismally. “This storm was pretty bad.” Her heart sinks for Hakoda and Katara. They have already lost Sokka, if they’ve lost their restaurant too… “We’ll walk over there.”

“Shouldn’t we check on the lighthouse first?”

Azula shakes her head. “It was built to withstand storms.”

“I can get the car started.”

She shakes her head. “Too many debris in the road, it’ll be quicker on foot.”

“We’re going to have to clean this first.” He gestures to the blockage at the door.

Azula rubs the back of her head and grumbles to herself as she begins heaving the furniture back into its place. To the best of their memory, everything is back in order about twenty minutes later. By now the rain is beginning to taper off, but she speculates that it will come back in furious bursts and random intervals.

She shuffles around for two umbrellas and shoves one into Zuko’s arms.

She pops her umbrella as she steps beneath a grey washed sky. Small rays of light break through the clouds, but do little to lift the gloom. The destruction is abundantly apparent as the siblings make their way down the path that leads from the lighthouse to the boardwalk. It isn’t a very long walk but they can see the damage inflicted upon the houses of their nearest neighbors.

The worst of them has a collapsed roof and another has flood damage to the ocean facing wall. Even from this distance she can tell that the boardwalk has been hit hard. After many decades of standing proud and secure, a particularly powerful wave, or mayhaps, a bolt of lightning has collapsed one of the corner pillars. It is splintered down the middle and juts from the lapping water like a broken tree trunk. All around it float planks of wood, chairs, stools, and other buoyant knick knacks. Several of the tourist shops, the ones nearest to the collapsed scaffolding are gone.

Gone in the sense that they are unusable and irreparable. She can see their dilapidated corpses, laying helplessly in the ocean, waiting for the ocean to finish the job. Their rubble will pollute the beaches for days. Likely, the beaches will be closed to the public until the damage can be cleared.

Azula’s favorite jewelry shop, Mai’s family’s jewelry shop, is amid the wreckage and she silently curses to herself, wishing that it could have been that damned pub instead, maybe then her father would be rushing down the street to make sure that she and Zuzu are alright.

It very nearly brings tears of frustration to her eyes. She clenches her fist in her pocket and steps over a broken palm tree, its coconuts roll down the incline of the street.

From what she can see, the La-bster still stands. Though she can’t foresee it opening any time soon. Much like the beaches, it will remain closed until the boardwalk can be repaired and safety secured. Even if the boardwalk were deemed safe enough, the rubble is an eyesore.

The restaurant may stand but they are still going to take a financial hit, losing that much business at the height of tourist season.

Hakoda and Katara are already there when she and Zuko arrive.

“Zuko, Azula!” She throws her arms around both of them at once. When she pulls back, Azula can tell that she has been crying. Her eyes are red and there are tear tracks on her cheeks. Azula doesn’t need to ask her what is wrong but Zuko does anyhow.

“We can’t reopen like this.” She confirms what Azula has speculated. “Waitressing at La-bsters is the only thing that’s kept my mind off of…” She trails off. “Even when the restaurant is super busy I’ll think of him. About how he’d always take the difficult customers from me. Or that one time he threatened to throw a man into the harbor for me.” She wipes at her eyes.

Azula laughs, that sounds like Sokka for sure.

“Need help with cleanup?” Zuko offers.

“That would be wonderful, thanks.”

Azula frowns, she must admit that she hadn’t planned on spending her morning moving heavy planks of wood and fixing outdoor decor. She looks around, there is plenty of that to be cleaned; strings of patio lights are either gone, have cracked bulbs, or are tangled and knotted around palm fronts and rafters in unflattering ways. Outdoor chairs and tables are overturned. Some of them are in neighboring properties and the La-bsters have a few chairs from the Cod Merchant’s Cod Shack. The floor is a mess of glass and broken plastic and Azula has no idea where to begin this task. She has no will power to do it either. Evidently she had just come by to make sure that the place was still standing and that her childhood friend is okay.

Task done.

She retracts that statement. “I’m going to see if I can reach Mai, I don’t think that she knows about…” she jerks a thumb in the direction of the destruction.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Zuko says, “I’ll help Katara, you’re better at breaking bad news anyhow.”

She squints at the wreckage once more, a little ways down the beach, TyLee’s family’s boat rental place still stands. It only does because they have learned from the last time; instead of a small wooden shack on the beach they have built it into the side of a nearby cliff. Their most expensive rentals are tucked away into a garage, also built into the cliffside. But there is some damage to their cheaper rental boats and many of their canoes and inflatables are scattered upon the beach.

Azula picks up her phone and dials Mai’s number, hoping to get a signal.

.oOo.

Katara fixes her eyes on the ocean. She hates it more than anything as it keeps stealing the things that make her feel loved and secure. She loves it more than anything because it makes her feel free and empowered. Such is the duality of the ocean.

Currently she hates it more than anything in the world.

Currently it has reminded her of the last thing it took.

Mai’s jewelry shop is like Sokka, dismantled and being pulled further and further into the water.

She shakes herself, she doesn’t know that he is dismantled.

Yet the hole in her heart is the same it has been several months and it still stings. There is such a vacancy in Sokka’s absence. Anything and everything is at risk of triggering a pang of sorrow; a specific dock post that he used to sit on regularly (she can still see the marks where he’d tagged it), a cluster of shells on a table, certain movies and books. Song are especially provocative; he had always loved reggae. They listened to it together all the time and he had a reggae song for everything, rendering the genre impossible to listen to without crying. There are so, so many songs that she can’t listen to and it is hard to explain why she gets teary eyed when they play on the radio.

Every now and again a customer will walk in who has his hair styled like Sokka had or wearing the same shirt that he had. On one instance, a girl walked in wearing Sokka’s favorite shirt, the one that he’d worn when he went out to sea before he’d disappeared.

She no longer enjoys recreational sailing, and gets tense when anyone mentions that they are going to take a solo recreational trip.

Azula insists that Sokka is still alive but Katara knows in her heart that he isn’t. She senses it in the same way she’d sensed that he’d had an accident while jet skiing with Jet and Chan. The same way he sensed that she’d gotten hurt while surfing.

She knows that he is gone because she can no longer feel him but she lets Azula talk about how she is sure that he is alive. Azula is rarely an optimist and Katara doesn’t have the heart to crush that.

Azula is the only other person who still seems truly impacted by his disappearance. She also tends to turn the radio off when certain songs play, though not as many as Katara. It isn’t for lack of memories with the songs either, it is more that she only turns the music off for songs that have particularly fond memories. Katara noticed that the other girl will grow randomly distant or somber. And Azula still thinks that he is alive. She can’t imagine how Azula will take it when that denial is shattered.

All the same, Katara tries to think of the absolute joy she would feel at being proven wrong.

Not that she thinks this will be the case. Azula has lost her mother already, her father might as well be dead...losing Sokka had done her psyche so much damage.

Damage that her father didn’t bother to tend to.

Damage that Zuko could only do his best to mend.

Damage that had almost killed her too.

And it is no wonder, they had been so close. Of course they were, Katara had caught him kissing her on more than one occasion. It always left her feeling flustered. Especially the night that she’d come across Sokka heavily and deeply lip locked with Azula. She still gags and the sucking sound. And yet, she’d give anything to overhear it again if it meant that Sokka was back.

They had softer moments. Moments where Katara had found them curled up beneath a palm tree, Azula cuddled in Sokka’s arms. They half-sat, half-laid in the glow of the fairy lights that curled around the tree. They nestled in a burrow of a brightly colored bean bag chair. They’d invited Katara to join them as they watched a movie being played on a projector screen across the beach.

Katara can no longer attend those movies.

She feels a hand on her shoulder, “you good?” Zuko asks.

“Yeah.” She nods. “I’m just thinking again.” She looks towards the horizon. She can’t see the sunrise, not that it will bring her any comfort today. In fact, a pretty sunrise would only be mockery.

Just like it had been on the day Sokka was declared dead.

The sky had been so vivid that day, all manners of orange and gold and the clouds seemed to be tinged a deep purple. Really it was the most beautiful sunset that she had ever seen.

And when night finally fell, the animals had been more lively than ever. Under a starlit sky, she’d never seen so many turtles migrating from sand to sea. Never seen so many crabs scuttling across the rocks. So many fish in the waves and starfish in the tide pools.

Tide pools that reflected a sky that looked as though it were painted with pearl powder.

“Sokka laid those out for us.” Kya had remarked, dabbing at her wet eyes. “My baby boy, made this for us to see.”

The sky had been all sorts of mystifying that night.

And yet she could not enjoy it.

Not at all.

The sky...the world had no right to be so beautiful when her brother was dead.

She recalls at once, their old fish game. She wonders if that’s what the afterlife is like; one big ocean where loved ones go. Spectral fish in a perpetually fluorescent sea. She likes to think that Sokka is a clownfish in this phantasmal sea. That one day she will be a sailfish swimming next to him, finally the big sister and not the little one.

Zuko puts an arm over her shoulder.

She gestures to an overturned table. “Can you help me pick this up?”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Zutara #Zuko #Katara #Fanfiction

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sunflowerqueenoffeminism · 3 years

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Why Noah’s ark is not a real story:

The practice of agriculture began over 10,000 years ago in Mesopotamia known know as Iraq, Syria, turkey, and the Jordan, which if we are talking about “biblical history” they were all middle eastern back in those times, so Mesopotamia is where it would have to take place.

These crops would the suffer from pests and diseases.

Anyways, seeds were gathered by hunters/gatherers, which they started growing things such as wheat, barley, lentils, peas, chickpeas, and flax seeds with it.

4,500 years ago sumarians used sulfur to try and get rid of these pesticides. 3,200 years ago the Chinese were using mercury and arsenical chemicals to try and get rid of pesticides. In Ancient Greece and Rome, they used witchcraft to try and get rid of these pesticides.

Up until the 1940’s there was chemicals such as nitrophenols, chlorophenols, creosote, naphthalene, and petroleum oils were used to get rid of these pesticides and make them more “organic.”

In the 1950’s this new pesticide chemical known as arsenic was used in agriculture to get rid of pesticides, and it made food cheaper, so consumers were just buying agriculture from their local grocery store.

In the 1970’s and 1980’s, a spray known as bacillus thuringiensis was introduced to spray the pesticides off of agricultural items.

In the 1990’s, researchers found that profiles of different families had better toxicology reports.

Okay, so now that we know all of that, let’s go back to Mesopotamia time before we had the proper chemical to spray off pesticides from our crops. Can you imagine what that did to them when they were consuming it. Especially after they put things such as sulfur mercury, and arsenical chemicals on the plants to get rid of pesticides before they consumed it. They probably got high, which is why they were seeing things such as a magical Jesus fairy performing miracles, or in this case, building a giant ass boat, and directing the animals while “god” is working through you to get on that boat 2x2 including dinosaurs by the way if you went to the creationism museum like I did.

The ark of Noah has been in a search for over 4,500 years in the Turkish mountains of Ararat, and although scientists say that they have found a wooden piece that could link to the boat, they doubt that it will, and guess who went in this expedition to find evidence of Noah’s ark? Yup a Christian group called Noah’s Ark Ministries International, which proves my point that the wooden piece they found to Noah’s ark is bullshit, and besides a piece of wood to a 4,500 year old boat would’ve turned into dust by now because nature does and turns into dust particles just like humans, so you’re welcome. I’m gonna go with what science thinks it is, which is an ancient shelter that was on that mountainside.

There was a flood in the Ararat mountains 4,500 years ago, but there was not enough H2O to reach the ark that these so called Christians claim to think is real, but we’ll get into that in a second.

There was no evidence to show that there was fossilized wood or animals at all in the mountains of Ararat, which they claim it took place. Not ANY!!!!!!! NONE!!!!!!!

What really happened:

It took place back when in ancient times when China was a dynasty, but there was a wave that was as tall as 30-foot high story building that came from the yellow river and wiped everything in its path in Yu and Xia.

This flood took place in 1900 B.C. A scientists by the name of Wu Quilong found o evidence of a catastrophic flood, but Christianity had to high jack it, and make it into some magical story about a middle eastern man making a 600 foot tall boat that god directed animals into 2x2 when first of all, the flood didn’t even take place in the Middle East, and second of all, it didn’t sweep out the whole freakin world, and third, it didn’t even take place in the same year as the Chinese flood. Therefore, it’s bullshit.

More proof of this is that green shist was found, up in the mountains, and mudstone along the river. They also found pottery inside collapsed cave dwellings in the mountains of Jishi Gorge.

At that time, an earthquake took place wiping out everything in Laija, and get this evidence of children were found to be there at the time of this earthquake in 1922 B.C. Unlike Noah’s ark, which has no proof at all.

An avalanche even created a dam to prevent water from coming through the land ever again. Many Christians will say god. No, it’s what happens when an earthquake happens. Things shift around. Including a wall in front of a dam from an avalanche. That is not evidence of god or that would be pretty damn catastrophic.

9 months later the avalanche wall broke and the yellow river water came ceasing through the land at 300,000 to 500,000 cubic meters per second.

The prediction that this may have happened in 2,000 B.C. Which is right around the times they found the bones of those children were alive. They found the same cracks from the flood to the earthquake, so they predicted that this may have happened a year apart from each other.

What I think may have happened is that they were thinking about what historical record or story to write because they liked to make up stories back then, and Noah and the ark came to mind, but you have to remember that they are consuming agriculture that they put sulfur, mercury, and arsenal in, which then they are consuming. After they consume it, they then get high, and when you’re high a chemical called DMT or Dimethyltrytamine is then released into your brain making you see, hear, and do some crazy shit. This chemical is released when people are in their death bed, which is why some people claim to see “heaven.” I think that because the flood happened maybe they saw something like animals and an ark and a Noah character that they may have possibly made up out of boredom, and that’s it.

I hope you guys enjoyed tonight’s blog, and I hope to see you tomorrow when I go over another shitty Christian YouTube channel.

Bye. 😘❤️💕

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system76 · 4 years

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Open Up: Open Source Hardware — A Chat with Carl

System76 is now a couple years into manufacturing open source hardware, with our efforts expanding in the form of an open source keyboard. In this week’s blog post, we sat down with System76 CEO Carl Richell to discuss the company’s journey into open source hardware and where its future may lead.

What is open source hardware?

Carl: From a broader lens, to produce “open source hardware” means that we have developed and shared the recipe to create a high-end commercial product that can be learned from, adapted, and used by anyone else. In the same way we’ve stood on the shoulders of the Linux and open source software giants who came before us, we now get to be pioneers in developing open source hardware for those who come next. If you want to learn more how a computer is designed or how something is made, our schematics are the instructions for how to do it. It describes every step of the process, from each piece of the machine and its dimensions, to the type of aluminum used and how to bend it.

It’s similar to open source software in that you can learn from the product, adapt it to your needs, and distribute it. The difference is that it requires outside equipment to produce your own version. Open hardware has become more accessible with 3-D printing, but as we found when we were making acrylic prototypes of Thelio, you reach a point where it’s time to work with metal, which presents its own challenges. You have to cut it, bend it, and paint it, all of which requires specific equipment.

We’ve also laid the ground work for the supply chain, in that anyone can use the same vendors for the fans or the same specs for how long the cables are. All those small yet extremely important pieces are open source.

How does open hardware fall into the System76 philosophy?

The phrase “intellectual property” gets thrown around a lot. It is my opinion, and the opinion that we express in this company, that intellectual property is a false idea. That nothing was just born out of nothing in your mind and just becomes your property. All these things you came up with, someone else was part of the building blocks for you to get there in the first place. And so you can’t own it. You can’t have it. It’s not yours. Like that hinge you’re making, well you’ve had some good ideas, you’ve tinkered with it for a while, you’ve figured out a cool hinge. But I guarantee you’ve looked at every other hinge out there and learned a lot from that research, just as we’ve done with everything we’ve ever built.

The world is full of smart, incredible people, and these ideas are mostly locked up in institutions and companies through the desire to maintain power and control over them. This is a broader idea we don’t believe in. Instead, we believe that ideas are free; that there is no such thing as “intellectual property”.

Why does System76 use copyrights for its hardware?

The reason we use copyright is because reputation matters. Our reputation is our name, it’s who we are, it’s how people perceive our value and the value that we put into something as individuals and as a company. You can’t just slap System76 on everything and say it’s a System76, because we have a reputation that we maintain through the product we deliver. But everything about that product is owned by the user just as much as it’s owned by us. Those beliefs and ideas that exist within open source software are no different than with open source hardware.

Speaking of open source, if there’s anything that should be open source, it’s a vaccine for COVID-19. There’s no lack of supply or resources to produce a vaccine, yet people are hiding secrets from each other to win a race for money. It’s absurd! We’re the ones paying for it. It should be a completely open source effort. I have quite a bit of confidence that the scientists and others working on a vaccine are in it because they really care about the science and getting results. That’s a striking example of where open source would make a lot of sense.

What would you say to someone who is interested in building machines, but is worried that making them open hardware would negatively impact their business?

There’s a risk if you build anything that is a commodity. When your product is a commodity, it doesn’t take a significant amount of effort to make it unique in the marketplace. It’ll just be copied by someone who can make it cheaper, with cheaper labor. With open hardware, what you want is for your product to be innovative and constantly progressing so that you’ll always be the best deliverer of that product. I think we’ll always be the best deliverer of the Thelio desktop product line—even if we’re not, I’m okay with it. The purpose of he GPL license is to lift all boats. If someone else comes along and does something innovative with our designs, the tide has risen.

We built Thelio Io, which is an open source hardware PCB (printed circuit board). It’s a commodity, but it’s one component of the entire system. You could take this to a manufacturer and have them make it, and then you have a 4-slot backplane that you can use in your design. That means you have the recipe for an open source backplane, controller, firmware, and software thermal system. Now Thelio Io is available on another company’s system because they can use our work? That’s fantastic! If they adopt the same philosophy, something they do in the future would be available for us to use as well.

What it really boils down to is, it doesn’t matter if your product is proprietary or open source; if people like it and it gets highly adopted, it will just be made by someone else. By making it open source, maybe their path is a little faster, but with reverse engineering and how quick product development is these days, it doesn’t seem to matter. You have to disarm at some point, you know? And somebody has to take the lead disarming. We have nukes and they have nukes, so nobody gets rid of their nukes, because that’s our leverage. We’re saying we don’t want this leverage anymore. We want to lead by example. We’re going to disarm and give away the instructions for how to make what we make.

Want to learn more about our open source efforts? Check out the software and firmware installments of our Open Up series.

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poems-and-pillows-and-puppies · 4 years

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Song of the Sea: Chapter 1- Bow

Hello there. I decided to make a fanfiction based off of @thenerdyalchemist‘s amazing pirate!AU! Here’s the link to the Ao3 page- https://archiveofourown.org/works/22967113

Chapter 1- Bow

Walking along the beach of Alorminia, Ethari felt the wind blow its sea-salty breath onto his already salt-encrusted clothes. Rayla giggled, letting the waves’ spray pelt her face. The colors of the pier rushed in, a whorl of blues and browns and yellows on the winding beaches. The sound of children laughing echoed in Ethari’s ears. Children rolled in the sand, making miniature dust-storms in their wake, as parents, disapproving and encouraging alike, followed in tow. The sand felt like satin under their callused, well-worn feet. Rayla smiled at the other children’s antics, but made no move to follow. Ethari wondered when their little girl went from exploring everything and escaping his and Runaan’s grasps to mellowly holding onto their hands as they went exploring through new towns and cities beside the sea. As he stood there, lost in memories of long, long ago, Rayla turned her eyes toward him and tugged on his shirt. He turned his gaze to her, and she beamed at her adoptive father with the warmth of a sunbeam on a cloudy day. Ethari returned the favor, giddy from the feeling of stable land- at least, as stable as sand can be- underneath his heels. He could see Runaan making his way towards one of the sandside stores, already haggling for a better price on a pair of bandanas. At the moment, Runaan looked deep in thought, his brow furrowed like the loose plank he had fixed at sea the night before. Sweat glistened on his brow, reflecting off the blue henna-like tattoos that defined his entire identity, his silvery-white hair untied and flowing off his shoulders like the many waterfalls he and Ethari have passed by under the light of the moon. Ethari’s gaze moved down towards his waist and noticed that Runaan’s purse had already shrunk, albeit not by much, the leather rope that bound the pocket was a little slack and Ethari had a slight pang of anxiety overtake him. ‘What if he had been pickpocketed?’ Ethari shook his head slightly, his slightly spiked hair swaying in time with his head movement. ‘No,’ he said to himself, ‘the king of the pirates wouldn’t possibly allow himself to be pickpocketed.’ He strolled toward his husband, the sand shifting beneath his feet to accommodate his weight. Runaan snapped out of his trance and turned slightly to look at his first mate. “Runaan?”

“Ethari.”

“What are you haggling for?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Despite his cold and harsh words, Ethari could sense his affectionate tone. ‘What a grouch I married. Can’t even show his love. Well, two can play at that game.’

“Dear, we don’t need to distract this merchant anymore. We can get a cheaper bandana at the other store.”

He kissed his husband’s forehead, ignoring the faint saltiness of his sweat, for the sake of the performance. The recipient looked at him with confusion in his eyes but caught on in a split second. He faked acquiescence. His blush from the kiss, however, was genuine. They acted like they were moving on. The merchant spluttered.

“W-wait! I can give it to you for 10 coppers! 10!”

Runaan stopped in his tracks. Ethari, sensing that this was an exponentially better deal than before, based on his spouse’s actions, waited for his husband to pay for the clothing. Rayla bounced up and down on her heels, violet eyes wide and sparkling, taking in the hustle and bustle of the town. Now that he was closer, Ethari took a good look at the merchant. The merchant was well-rounded, as if he had eaten a few steaks too many for his body to have handled it nicely. His voice, though rough-sounding at first listen, was oily and sent uncomfortable shivers down his spine. The next time the two had eye contact, Ethari gave a half-lidded glare at the shopkeeper, making the man’s wattle tremble. After Runaan had finished his purchase, the group plodded on with the nearest produce shop in mind. As the ground turned from sand to hard-packed mud to cobblestone and the open airs of the beach turned to crowded wooden stalls and people from all sides, the two pirates argued over what to buy for the ship with playful tones, with Rayla adding her own two cents every once in a while.

“...so there, Runii! Fruits are a must!”

“They’re expensive, you big buffoon.”

“Hey! I’m only a little bit taller than you!”

Rayla chipped in, “You guys are both the same height to me! You two are so silly!”

The group laughed, each in their own ways. Runaan looked forwards. “We’ve reached the produce stalls. Why don’t you two go look for some treats or something? I heard Alorminia has the best sugared apples.” Ethari and Rayla bobbed their heads up and down like birds, making Runaan chuckle. He made a shooing motion. “Go on, you two.” The two scuttled off, disappearing into the crowd.

Ethari and Rayla strolled through the marketplace, searching for the sweet stands. People who noticed their markings kept a wide berth around them, much to their degree of comfort and space. Rayla frowned at the looks of fear on some of the people’s faces. “Why are some of them scared of us, Papa?” Her wobbly voice caught him off guard and he crouched to her eye level. “My little Rayla, you mustn’t be afraid of them. They may seem afraid of us, but that’s just because they’ve been taught to do so.” He winced inwardly at the lie. “Really?”

“Yes, my little albatross.”

“Okay!” Her smile came back full force. He stood up, searching for the stands once more. Much to their annoyance, there was a large crowd of people in the way of the streets stand that were watching a group of dancers pirouette in the square, stopping their adventure in their tracks. The jolly music of harmonicas and banjos filled the air with whoops of joy and yelling. Rayla sighed in disappointment. “I guess we should go back to Dad now.” Her ears drooped. She turned around and started walking back. A call from Ethari stopped her. “Rayla! I’ve found a little passageway. Wanna try?” She did a full 180 to see her father point to a narrow streetway. Her ears went back to full mast. “Yeah!” She ran to Ethari, renewed delight scrawled onto her features.

The streetway was narrow, but it was still full of people. Elves of all kinds strolled through it, but more humans than elves manned the stalls. Ethari began to suspect something was wrong when he accidentally bumped into someone and a small, bejeweled dagger fell out of the hooded stranger’s clothes. His mind whirled with worry, but he tamped it down for the sake of his daughter. ‘Why am I so scared, anyway? This is an elf-friendly town and nobody is foolish enough to attack the family of the most famous pirate of this time. What is there to worry?’ As the streetway narrowed even further, his anxiety rose, until it reached his throat. ‘Something is wrong!’ He whirled around in a hasty frenzy, but nothing caught his eye. A tug on his clothing turned his gaze back downwards. “What’s wrong, Papa?” Rayla’s confused eyes acted as an anchor point for the antsy elf. His breathing slowed. His pulse stopped beating in his ears like a frantic drum. “N-nothing, sweetheart. I thought I-I saw something,” he stuttered. The road had narrowed to a one-person space only and alarm bells were ringing in his head like a death knell. He turned around. The hooded stranger from earlier was not far behind them. His mind raced. “H-how-”

“Did you think that we humans couldn’t do magic, too? Too bad. Hand the girl over.”

“N-no. This is my daughter.”

The stranger chuckled. “Really, now? Then why does she have the pirate king’s markings and you don’t?”

Ethari did a double take. “What?”

“Come on. Did you think that I would be that foolish?”

“I have the markings too.”

Ethari bared his arms, showing off the faintly-glowing markings. The human gasped quietly, a noise that Ethari barely heard, even with his sensitive hearing. The human shook their head.

“Unfortunately, my client told me the girl, and the girl only. If you won’t cooperate, we’ll take her by force.”

Ethari’s heart stopped. “We?”

The human looked at him, eyes glinting electric blue in the shaded darkness of the alley. “Yes, we. Who do you think was the first alerter to your presence? The people who were peddlers in the so-called ‘streetway’? We were all waiting for you, and you walked straight into our traps.”

The figure held their hand out. “Now, hand her over.”

Ethari bristled. “No! How dare you! We have not done a single thing to you or your city!”

“Very well then, we’ll do it the fun way. Suit yourself.”

Men began to surround the way the two came from. Ethari glanced back to see men cover the other way out of the alley. He raised his arms into a guard position, poised to fight. Rayla cowered beside him, trembling in fear.

The human raised their arms and stood there, static, unmoving. Ethari waited, breath held, ready for their first word. The human exhaled, and Ethari tensed. The slightest word fell from their lips. “Move.” And the men came from all sides. Ethari fell under a flurry of punches and kicks. He was strong, as he was a pirate and a former blacksmith, but even then, he could not fight against so many assailants unarmed. Pain flared from every point of contact, and Ethari cried out in pain whenever someone hit him in an extremely painful spot. His sight began to flicker, and with one last burst of strength, he reached out to his daughter, miraculously untouched other than a few jostles here and there. Rayla grabbed his hand one last time, and his mind went dark. His limp body fell to the floor, unmoving. Rayla shrieked in fear, concern, and sadness. “Papa!?” Hands grabbed her from all angles. She fought with them, desperation leaking into her features. A sharp tang assaulted her nostrils, and within a few seconds, she had followed her father into the realms of unrestful rest.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ethari awoke to sharp pain all over his body and the concerned face of his husband. He hazily sat up, much to Runaan’s relief. “Oh my Xadia! Are you okay?” He drowsily smiled at his husband. He slurred, “Sure. I ‘eel fine. ‘ere’s ‘Ayla?” He looked around in confusion. “Yeah, that was my next question too. Where’s Rayla?” With those words, his anxiety skyrocketed. He shook himself out of his daze with a predatorial growl. “That little bastard- I’m gonna’ put ‘im in a barrel-” Ethari muttered, eyes taking on a deadly shade of anger. Runaan, confused, inquired, “What do you mean? Who are you talking about?” Ethari looked up at his concerned partner, and with a deep undertone of outrage at the hooded human, retold his story to Runaan. As the story went on, Runaan began to growl himself, and by the end of the tale, was already on his feet. “And that’s it? He’s just.. Gone? You let him?” Incredulity filled his tone and Ethari hissed in annoyance. “You blockhead. I just said that I tried my best to fight back! There were too many-”

“You still let him!”

“I tried my best!”

“It wasn’t enough!”

“I couldn’t do anything!”

“Rayla’s gone!” Ethari snapped his mouth closed. “She’s gone, Ethari. And it’s all your fault.”

Rage clouded his husband’s features. The face he had grown to love, to cherish, to care for with all his heart- Tears welled up under his eyelids, threatening to spill out onto the ground below. He turned around, sobbing, and ran in the direction he had entered. Tears altered his vision. His ears heard nothing but the echoes of “It’s all your fault.” His mind, usually full of words and thoughts, was silent, as if punishing him for his failure. “It’s all your fault.”

“It’s all your fault.”

“She’s gone….And it’s all your fault.”

#tdp #pirate!au #thenerdyalchemist #fanfic #inspired work #writing #the dragon prince #thedragonprinceofficial

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jackjots · 4 years

Text

#3 Suspicions

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye 30 Day Prompt

(This takes place around the second half of Episode 3)

Day #3 @30daysofwayward

CW: Mention of blood, alcohol mentions.

(I do not own any other characters or place names outside of Shelby St. Ranger, this is just for fun)

Reading about silver mining while laying in bed eventually got me tired enough that I fell asleep with the book in my hands. When I woke up, the book was face down on the floor. I picked it up and found it was open where pages had been ripped out. I frowned and looked up what chapter was missing: “The Werewolves of Connor Creek”. I thought that was odd, and I wondered if the library knew their book had been torn, or if they’d blame me. I sighed and put the book on my bedside table as I got ready for the day. A day of catching up on my work, and then I could learn more about the town, I decided. With a fresh mind, it was easier to sort my priorities and shove that weird guilt I’d been feeling away from my mind.

I drank some tea I’d found in the back of a drawer, noting to myself to go get coffee from the market later, and got some writing done. I got stuck on another small detail about Norse life that would be such an easy Google search normally. As I waited for the page to load, I looked over at my notebook, flipping back to my notes about Connor Creek. I’d gotten a good chunk of writing done, the internet was being even slower than usual, and I started thinking about the book again, so I went back to the document containing my novel and typed a quick note to myself to look that up later, and closed out of everything. I brought the book to the couch and started to read again. My eyes dragged over words about the sustainability of silver mining next to gold mining, and suggested that the mysticism surrounding silver could account for the many bizarre tales that came from similar towns across the country. I thought of the chapter on werewolves, and looked through the index for any other such tales. Most of them were tales about the MacMahons greed, probably written by Connor descendants, and tales about the Connor’s inability to welcome change, probably written by MacMahons descendants. There were impartial footnotes at the bottom that suggested whoever compiled this wasn’t sure which side to believe.

My stomach growled, and I felt like I was going nowhere with this book, so I decided to go into town. Get some coffee from the market, get some lunch from the Dead Canary, and maybe, just maybe, ask questions about the current political situation in the town, now that I was getting an idea that the town was founded on a quarrel about a quarry, I was even more curious about the current quarry quandary. The possibility that I was creating something where nothing existed was still there in my mind, but was that so bad?

I brought the book with me, since I could read while I ate. I drove into town, and the ease in which I found a spot still made me happy. I knew eventually I would take free parking for granted, and I’d gotten a few tickets the first week before I knew exactly where to park, but for now I was pleased.

I noticed Ryan Reynolds' face plastered all over the outside of the Dead Canary. I knew it would be cold to take them down so soon, but it was hard to look at him smiling thirty smiles at me. I gripped the book in my hand and entered the bar that seemed to hold its gloom even in the middle of the day.

Quinn, the chef, took my order begrudgingly. I just wanted grilled cheese, but he insisted on making it bleu cheese with strawberries and balsamic for dipping. I shrugged and asked Desmond for an iced tea.

“How’s that book goin’?” He asked as he slid me the glass.

“Trying to read it quickly, since I have to return it to the library soon.”

“A library book?”

I showed him the stamp from the library. “Yep. It’s old school, but I kind of like that. Shame it’s a bit ripped up though.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, someone tore it up. That’s why we can’t have nice things.”

He wiped a glass and shrugged. “Not sure I’ve had many nice things.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. It’s all a matter of opinion.”

“Wise words Shelby. We’ll get your food right out to you.”

I remembered the bleu cheese and grimaced. “Can’t wait.” I paused before I went back to my booth. “Desmond?”

“Yes?”

“What’s your take on the podcasters?”

“Podcasters?” He said the word like he didn’t know how to fit it in his mouth so it came out sideways. “You mean the nosey ones, Artie and Paul?” I nodded. “They’re alright. Nosey.”

“Yeah, you said that. What exactly are they investigating? The race? The murder?”

“I don’t exactly know. All of it, from the sounds of it.”

“That makes sense. But why did they even come here in the first place?”

“Why don’t you ask them yourself?” He gestured outside. “Word is they’re out there at Miner Mole right now.”

I shook my head. “I think I’ll stick around here for a while.”

“Good idea. Here’s your lunch.”

After a surprisingly delicious meal, which Quinn nodded approvingly from the bar at me while I did so, I washed it down with the iced tea and read a bit more. The closer I got to the chapter that was missing, the more the pages alluded to the chapter. I realized it would’ve been a nice chapter to have. Despite the silliness of the topic, I knew there would be information in there, even if it was open to interpretation. I decided I could try to find the book online and order it, from the library computer so I could simultaneously return the book.

I went up to settle my tab. “Where you off to now?” Desmond asked as I had my keys in my hand.

“Gotta get some coffee from the market, and then I think I might just head over to the library today.”

“Done with your book already?” He handed me my change.

“Actually, I think the chapters that were missing might be more important than I thought. I think I might go see if I can buy a copy myself.”

“Why is this so important to you?”

I tilted my head. “I’m not sure, but I’m just kind of going with it.”

“Good for you.” He patted the bar. “Have a safe drive. Those turns can get hairy.”

I decided to get coffee at the market, since it was cheaper and I’d probably forget by the time I got to the library. Besides, I liked supporting the town I lived in. The mailman, Odie Doty, stopped in and got excited when he saw me. “There’s a letter waitin’ for you, it’s from your editor. They’ve liked what you’ve sent them so far, but they want more violence. Not sure why, what you sent them was mighty violent already. At least the parts I read.”

I blinked a bit. I was still not used to the intrusiveness of the local postal service. But in some ways, it took the anxiety out of getting my mail. “Thanks Odie. Look forward to reading it.”

“You coming to the town council meeting tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” I said, which was the honest truth. My curiosity about the town was piqued, but it probably stopped at gathering with the locals. The introvert's dilemma.

“The mayor will be there.” He said in a sing-songy voice as he left.

I hadn’t met the mayor yet. All I’d heard of her, was that she was quite a dog. Just kidding, I knew she was actually a dog, but wouldn’t that be funny? That would’ve been funny. “See you later Odie.” I called to him as I headed to my Volvo.

“Is that your car?” His voice boomed from remarkably far down the street since he’d just been right next to me.

I pointed at the Volvo. “Yes?”

“Looks like you’ve got a flat!”

My face fell. “Thanks.” I looked. I had four flats. My tires were slashed. I looked around, but no witnesses were to be found. Grumbling, I threw the coffee beans in the backseat and went back to the Dead Canary. “Can you call the shop? My tires are...well slashed.”

“Are they now? ‘Fraid I can’t do that, they’re closed Thursdays.”

“Are they now?” I echoed Desmond. He just raised his eyebrows at me and I waved it away. “Fine, I’ll just walk home.”

“Want a beer before you go? You’re walkin’ anyway.”

I chewed on my cheek for a moment and then shrugged. “Fine. I can read around the chapters that are missing, right?”

“Couldn’t of been that good if they’re gone.”

“Or they were too good.” It was one of those moments where I didn’t realize what I was saying until I heard it myself. A memory resurfaced and highlighted itself in my mind. “Desmond, did you see anyone sneaking around this book last time I was here?”

“Not sure why anyone would.”

“Me either. Except I’m fairly certain it went missing long enough for that chapter to get ripped out.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Yeah, why would anyone steal a chapter about werewolves?”

“Can’t imagine.” He repeated, as he pointedly handed me a beer.

“What’s with all of this imagining Desmond? That’s not like you.” The curved shape of a human at the end of the bar slurred. I’d let my eyes slip over him enough times that I jumped when he spoke.

“Okay Henry, let's get you something to eat.”

I mouthed a thank you and went back to my spot.

Much to my chagrin, the book drifted farther from the town as the chapters went on. I didn’t care how the silver affected the coast of California. I didn’t care about when the first bank was established. I didn’t care about the guessing game the rest of the family feud story had devolved into. I shoved the book aside and found a new beer replacing my empty cup.

“You look like you needed it.” Desmond said and turned around.

Did I? I looked at the glass. Fine. I drank a big gulp. I saw a few patrons slip in and looked at the clock. I’d killed a lot of time with one beer and a few boring chapters I realized. I might as well stay for dinner.

By the time dinner was in my belly (something something caprese something something), I’d also consumed another two beers. I was usually good at pacing myself, but for some reason, with my tires and the book, I was just ready to be drunk. I didn’t see Desmond, so I put the exact change out under my plate with a note ripped from my notebook. I went to my car and pulled out my coffee beans. I was going to have coffee, that was for damn sure.

As I made my way down the street, I ran into someone lurking in the shadows; a solid form that was wearing a big fur coat. I said sorry as I blundered forward past them and passed the neon signs of Prism’s shop. I turned a corner and thought I heard something. I leaned my head back and with bleary eyes saw a shape running away. I walked back, cautiously, and looked into Prism’s shop where the door was ajar. The red stuck out to me as not red enough. It occurred to me this was my first time seeing blood, in large amounts, on a real live - a real dead person. Prism was dead. And there was someone else face down next to her. I tore back to the Dead Cannery and found Desmond cleaning a glass - how the hell does he have glasses to clean when no one was there was what my brain was saying before my voice started working. “There’s bodies, there’s bodies over at Prisms’. And I’m not sure I can handle it.” His face set grimly and he told me to sit down while he made calls and asked me where exactly.

I wasn’t questioned so much as told what I saw. The Sheriff gave me a ride home. Trying to keep my mind from seeing the not-red-enough-red, I babbled about my slashed tires, and when she asked me why I hadn’t gotten them fixed at the shop, I told her what Desmond had told me. And she gave me a look that told me I had probably misheard him. But I hadn’t. Even in my slippery thought state, where every thought I had felt like a wriggling fish I tried to hold onto, I knew I hadn’t.

I fell into bed wearing the same shirt I’d worn all day; the drunkenness already melting into a spiky headache. As sleep started to lurk in the corners of my eyes, I thought about Desmond. The book at the bar, the slashed tires, the fact that he was gone when I’d left the bar and conveniently back after I’d found Prism...something was wrong with all of these things, and though when I pinned them on Desmond I had trouble sticking them there, they still fit too well for comfort.

#waywardguidefortheuntrainedeye #30daysofwayward #tin can bros #waywardguide

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taeyongbestboi · 4 years

Text

Okay, so i just took a nap and had the most fanfic / wattpad dream EVER like idek anymore.

It goes like this

I was on a music show concert and one of the artist in the line up was nct dream (we young era OMG THEY’RE SO TINY) and i decided to buy a more expensive seating section, while my friends bought the cheaper one (it was 50 thousand rupiah and mine costed 75 thousand rupiah). It was kinda like “Spotify on Stage” or something, so they’re cheap.

Anyway, idk why but i decided to bring my dog with me and he’s just running all over the place and i noticed that the venue itself wasn’t really crowded (idk why either) and my dog accidentally went to the venue (that time the gate wasn’t even opened) and i took a peek inside and it wasn’t that big. It has 2 levels and apparently, my ticket was idk what happened but i should be on the main section (1st floor) but ended up being on the 2nd level on the LEFT WING jeez. So all of my friends went in first, they all got to the 2nd floor, leaving me and my dog behind and i patiently waited for my section’s gate to be opened.

And so, it finally open. There wasn’t anyone going to my section and i was going in alone (?) pretty weird huh. And so i sat down, kinda near the railing or a wall (the railing or wall is on my right) and who knows where my dog went but he just wasn’t with me anymore (its a dream, relax)

AND SUDDENLY

CHRISTOPHER FREAKING BANG WAS SITTING BESIDES ME.

I’m laughing rn

So he sat down. Lemme describe his physical appearance and look in DETAILS.

He’s wearing a black tshirt (duh, his usual), his hair’s blonde (MY UTMOST FAV), and he’s wearing silver jewelries like a bracelet and also skz’s necklace. He’s so pale jeeeeeeez omg and doesn’t wear that much makeup lol. You know guys, i can LITERALLY feel that he’s besides me. Creepy right omg what kind of dream

And, he’s gorgeous. Guys, he’s so gorgeous :”) i feel like crying right now

AND THEN WE TALK. WE TALKED LMAO

Okay, so i can only remember some, so it goes like this

“Whoa, aren’t you Bang Chan from Skz?”

“Yeah that’s me” and he laughed

AND THIS DREAM WAS SO MADE SENse like HE’S AUSTRALIAN AND HE SPEAKS ENGLISH AND PLEASE IMAGINE

“Wow, what are you doing here?”

“Idk, just seeing a concert, being like a normal people”

Up to this point, only two things went weird. 1st is that i have no idea where my dog went, 2nd idek which country i’m in rn. How is bangchan here watching the same show with me?

After that i just went “ahhh” while nodding and i actually told him that i want to this section alone cos apparently my friends r on another section so i’m thankful that he sits besides me.

And he got closer, talk into my ear (cos the concert’s starting) and said “you’re most welcome”

AND HE ALSO THANKED ME FOR TREATING HIM LIKE A NORMAL GUY AND NOT AS A CELEBRITY

And i did the same :/ i lean in and said “anytime”

AND

AMDISNJZSIUAKKZISB I CANT

THIS PART MAKES ME GO BOOOOOM BOOOOOOM

i’m writing this with the biggest and dumbest smile on my face dang

He said that he got kinda shy after i spoke right into his ear like that (cos we’re too close)

AND I LITERALLY WENT “NOOOO DON’T SAY THAT” and blushed hard damn boy

AND HE’S ALL CUTE AND GIDDY WHILE SAYING THAT???? U KNOW WHEN HE’S GIDDY? A giant fluff ball indeed.

Okay, so then we ended up enjoying the concert together like we’re homies. We laughed, we cheered (i cheered for the dreamies tho lol) and our shoulders would often met and we’ll laugh about it omg it was heavenly

At one point i realised that it was just a dream and i have the audacity to think “well, even if it’s just a dream, make it last” WOW I’M SO COOL LMAO

And the show ends and i forgot whether it’s before the show or after the show but Chan actually asked me out. LIKE HAHAHAHHAHA HE ASKED ME OUT YAS GURL U HEARD ME RIGHT

He said, “why don’t we hang out a little?”

And i was like :0 “o-okay...”

Well i mean, i wouldn’t mind tho??? ITS CHRISTOPHER FREAKING BANG

AHHHHHH AND AND AND I ALSO TOLD HIM (at one point on our convo before the show starts) that i actually like him and that he’s one of my bias in skz and he was like “oh, really??” And i was like “bruh, i watched your show on Januari 2019 in Jakarta!!” And we laughed (again) and he seemed happy to know that i’m a stay

Back to the topic where he asked me out and i said yes and we exchanged our contacts i forgot it was our numbers or sns? Idk i don’t remember.

ONE DAY, he really picked me up y’all. I cant anymore

So apparently, we’re in my country, in my city, basically my territory. And in this dream, i wasn’t super rich, my family was actually struggling to live. And i live in this tall but old building, alongside my neighbours who were as poor as us. We live in flats, yes, that’s the word. And the building we’re living in is actually my church building irl so it felt super real.

The one who picked me up was actually his driver. I have to pick Chan somewhere in the city. After that we decided to grab some meal and we start throwing each other silly questions

Me: “well, what’s your fav food?”

Him: “rice.” WHILE SMIRKING LIKE ????

Me: “bruh, we’re asian!! We eat rice!” I laughed

And he laughed

Akxjdndkdisnkzjdbaksj naui simjang

Me: “okay, what is your fav food OTHER than rice?”

And after that i cant remember anything anymore (about the convo :))

I also can’t remember where we had lunch, this 2nd half of my dream is just us inside his car

Then we talked about a lot of things. I remember telling him a lot about my story (i just cant remember the exact things i told him, nothing really absurd though just my interests n stuffs), and he would too, and just like that back and forth. The ambience was nice, and relaxing. That time i really felt time has stopped because irl i need to deal with quite a lot if things (that include my thesis, the struggle to keep on going as my parent’s business wasn’t in the prettiest shape due to covid-19, and other stuffs). And the fact that i really need someone to talk to atm makes the dream 1000000000000% better.

So, it was the time for us to finally call it a day. And i know by heart that after all of this end, i wouldn’t be able to meet him again. How could i? I have experienced a full day hang out with the precious Christopher Bang, i couldn’t ask for more right? It was more than enough for me and i’ll continue to be his ordinary fan. On our way back to where i live, we kinda became quite. As if none of us wanted it to end.

And

Omg i said the word ‘and’ like a thousand times now

Okay so

Listen

It was 15 minutes away from where i live, so our meeting would soon come to an end.

And he suddenly pulled out some kind of a recorder or a music player idk it has a can-like-shape, and start playing a track.

It was an unreleased track. About a girl who make his heart goes warm, someone who supports him for who he is.

I nearly cried writing this guys

And he asked me to listen to it

And i did

And i was like “chan, this is beautiful”

And U KNOW THE FEELING

OF AN INEVITABLE GOODBYE

THAT ANGSTY FEELING

INSIDE YOUR GUT

I FEEL THAT

*cries*

The song is beautiful. The lyrics, the melody, everything’s perfect.

I managed to listen to it twice, but i cant remember how it sounds like. But it was BEAUTIFUL. Trust me on this.

And i just remembered, THE SONG IS IN FREAKIN KOREAN. I cant speak korean :”) but i understands EVERY. SINGLE. WORD. Dreams r cool

And he got all giddy again with his goofy smile, and somehow my brain process it to:

‘Chan wrote that song a long time ago, probably. Well, definitely before we met. He’s now showcasing it to me and the lyrics clicked and maybe i’m the girl in the lyrics’

I don’t wanna make it sound like it’s all about me (even tho it’s my dream :”)) so i asked him

“This song is about stays, right?”

And he answered

“Well, you’re a stay right? So, yes.”

OKAY :”””””””

I feel like he felt that our meeting was destined, even though we’ll never gonna see each other again after this, we know that both of us are grateful for this meeting.

Omg i really hope that i’ll dream like that again tonight

OH SIS I’M NOT DONE YET.

So, we arrived at my place. He parked the car and i was still listening to the song and when it came to its end, IDK WHY but (please forgive me for this idek what i’m doing) and i somehow REACHED FOR HIS ABS? TRAILED IT ALL THE WAY UP WITH MY RIGHT PALM (Jesus, forgive me), and then we

Kissed.

Yes. Just like that.

And the next thing that i remember is that he accompany me until i’m outside my flat, and people on my neighbourhood wondered who’s the guy (cos he looked rich and handsome) LMAO

And then i wake up.

This is one of the few dreams that i remember that has a nice ending. The nap ends when the dream ends. It was sooooooo satisfying!

——————————————————————————

Okay thank you for listening to my unimportant story :”) i do hope one day you’ll get a sweet sweet dream of your bias just like me. Have a good day, y’all!

#skz #stray kids #dream #fanfic #nap #stay #bangchan #woojin #lee know #changbin #felix #han #jisung #hyunjin #seungmin #i.n #in #jeongin #alskndaukshdn #i love my life #jyp

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letterboxd · 4 years

Photo

Lockdown Lens.

The filmmakers behind found-footage hits Searching and Host share their best tips for making movies in quarantine. Hint: you’ll need to tape your camera to your laptop, move away from the wall, and plump up the post-production budget.

“There is a really opportunistic moment here that you can take advantage of, if you come up with the right thing.” —Aneesh Chaganty, director of Searching

“You should never wait for the ideal circumstance because it doesn’t exist. Look at what you’ve got right now and use that.” —Rob Savage, director of Host

A low-budget thriller starring John Cho as a desperate dad, Aneesh Chaganty’s 2018 debut feature Searching, co-written with Sev Ohanian, shook up the found-footage genre with its seamless blend of content from chat rooms, social platforms, security-camera footage and news coverage. Chaganty and Ohanian’s next film, Run, which also takes place mostly inside one house, will debut on Hulu later this year after its theatrical release was quashed by Covid-19.

Meanwhile, a 56-minute séance horror that appears to take place entirely on a Zoom call became the most popular film on Letterboxd within a week of landing on Shudder in July (our popularity score is based on the amount of activity across our platform for each film, regardless of rating). Host—conceived and completed within just twelve weeks—was written by Gemma Hurley, Rob Savage and Jed Shepherd, and directed by Savage.

Our editor-in-chief Gemma Gracewood asked Chaganty, Hurley, Savage and Shepherd to draw on their expertise in making browser horrors and other limited-setting stories, to inspire other aspiring filmmakers sheltering in place.

Listen to the full interviews on the Lockdown Filmmaking episode of The Letterboxd Show.

Joseph Lee and John Cho in TV news footage from ‘Searching’.

Keep the parameters tight.

“Making a story in a limited setting is a very smart thing to do for an aspiring screenwriter—first and foremost because it’s produceable,” Aneesh Chaganty advises. ”If you’re an unknown entity in the film world, the cheaper your product takes to make is probably a better bet for you to be taking as opposed to writing a kajillion-dollar project. The first project that I wrote was a $90-million movie that Sev and I wrote. ‘Why did we do this?!’”

Chaganty also stresses the need to ensure your project wants to be a limited-setting story. “A lot of times I’ll read a found-footage script and it will often feel like all it wants to be is a not a found-footage script. There’s a lot of times where it feels like the writers don’t want it to be that.”

Explore the whole box.

Chaganty encourages aspiring writers to imagine your limited environment as a box. “You’re writing within this box, all the characters are in this box, I think the best way to examine it is not to ever try leaving the box, but make sure you explore it every which way. The box upside down, the box right side up, the box left, the box right…

“This is an objective that should apply to all films, but it’s easier to objectively analyze whether you’re doing it in a limited setting. With a film like Searching, we have to make sure that every possible iteration of how a narrative can take place on a computer screen is done. Looking at a movie like Buried, they’re doing every possible iteration of how that story can be told underground, in a coffin, before [the location] starts to change.”

(Good news for fans of Searching: with new tech platforms appearing all the time, it turns out there are more parts of the box to explore. A sequel is in the works, but Chaganty won’t be in the director’s chair.)

Give yourselves a deadline.

With no end to the pandemic in sight, it’s easy for one day to melt into the next. Keep your team motivated with a deadline. “I gave us two weeks,” says Rob Savage, Host’s director, who co-wrote the film with Jed Shepherd and Gemma Hurley, after his Twitter prank went viral.

“So we had two weeks, all three of us, to come together,” adds Hurley. “Let’s figure out a structure, let’s figure out these character dynamics, figure out a way to build tension around this idea of a séance and hang a story and a journey for the characters, for where we want the séance to end up. We had a Google doc where we were editing it together. I’d go away and do my pass, Rob would go away and do his pass, and Jed would. And that was it. It was really just like, run and gun, go go go.”

“If things had gone to plan we would have had this out in two months; in the end it took three,” Savage continues. ”It took twelve weeks from when I first called Jed up and said ‘let’s make a feature’, to delivering the movie—roughly breaks up as two weeks of writing, we shot for three weeks, and then a lot of editing and VFX time.”

Know your story inside-out, but don’t labor the script.

“We’ve got some hearts to break, here,” warns Hurley. “There was no official script in the standard way because there just wasn’t time. The whole point was capturing a zeitgeist moment… If we went away and wrote a feature-film script, well, ‘we’ll see you after the pandemic’s over, guys!’. You’d miss that moment. That was the joy of it. You didn’t have time to labor over every syllable.”

Some of Host’s key moments were scripted, Hurley reassures. “We had lines we wanted them to suggest, but more than giving them dialog it was about giving them prompts for every scene.”

Savage adds: “The thing that we did really well, at the end of the two weeks of writing, is every single scene, me, Jed and Gemma, you could quiz us all in separate interrogation rooms, we’d be able to tell you the purpose of every scene and what we wanted to get out of them. We had the movie so clearly in our heads in terms of how we wanted it to feel.”

An advantage of having a treatment rather than a completed script? “A sense of discovery every day,” says Savage. “The actors just brought that amazing spontaneity to it and these incredible performances, because we knew the parameters.”

Aneesh Chaganty and John Cho on the set of ‘Searching’, with a GoPro behind the laptop capturing the webcam view. / Photo by Elizabeth Kitchens

Choosing your camera (spoiler: it’s not your laptop’s).

“John is acting against a black screen,” Chaganty reveals. “There’s nothing on his computer, he’s literally looking at nothing.” To ensure complete control over their footage while preserving authentic eyelines, both sets of filmmakers taped additional cameras to the laptops of their key talent. In Host, each of the Zoom participants had iPhones recording at their highest resolution “so we knew we were getting a clean 1080p,” says Savage. In Searching’s case, it was a GoPro taped to the rear of the various computers used by John Cho.

“Before we started shooting the film,” Chaganty explains, “we had to make [an animatic] version using Adobe Premiere, because much of John’s performance is knowing his eyeline. He needs to know exactly where the iMessages open up—in order for us to know that we almost have to know those decisions already.” Chaganty and his team developed a 100-minute animatic cut, with Chaganty playing every role; “understanding where every window is, where every cursor is, so that by the time we get to set, what I’m doing is showing John ‘okay, this is where that message pops up, and while you’re talking to Deborah, you’re going to look over there, go down there, open Chrome, type in…’ So everything is very specific eyelines. Sometimes my notes after a take would just be ‘John that was great, just move the cursor a little further to the left this time’.”

Haley Bishop as séance host Haley in ‘Host’.

Develop your characters and the genre will take care of itself.

Chaganty and the Host team have the same advice for how to ratchet up the tension in a limited-setting film: it’s all about character. “If you’re going to end up putting these characters through tough times and potentially kill them,” says Shepherd, “develop them as real characters, so that we care about them.”

Although Host’s script was, in fact, only a seventeen-page beat-sheet, the most important part of its structure was the long stretch up front where the characters are dialling into the call and catching up—what Shepherd calls the “getting to know you bit”. “That first part is really important because if it wasn’t for that, the third act wouldn’t work at all. The best thing to do is make your characters real, authentic, believable. Everything else takes care of itself.”

Chaganty agrees: “When you are writing something that is genre, your other decisions don’t have to be genre, and in fact it might elevate it more when you don’t do that, because everything else is already doing that, you know?”

In particular, he advises, trust your talent to lean into their characters, rather than into the genre. “This was my challenge at least, as a totally amateur director: sometimes what I was looking for was the most obvious take as opposed to the most subtle take. “When we left the shoot I was thinking it was take six, or the one where it was most obvious [John] was angry or he was sad or something—and what we ended up using was the most subtle takes. That subtlety, that underneath layer, so much of that was him. He’s so good. He’s so good. I hate to say it, but I didn’t realize how good he was until we edited it together.”

Spend time getting the interface right.

“There’s not a frame of Zoom footage in the actual movie.”—Rob Savage

Found-footage films and browser horrors rely on the believability of the content. Searching and Host work because the footage feels real, even though the reality is there are multiple takes and a lot of post-production. Just as Searching was built around a detailed animatic, Host is, in fact, not a recorded Zoom call, but a result of three weeks of filming every actor in multiple takes, with stunt set-ups, followed by the addition of VFX and Zoom interface details.

“Originally the plan was just to screen-record a Zoom call, but then we realized that we were pumping so much money into doing these crazy stunts and effects that we could blow half the budget in 30 seconds,” says Savage. “You’re basically making five movies. We have to make sure the performances are all tight in every single screen. Radina might be amazing in take one and Jemma might nail it in take three and we have to cut them all together so they work seamlessly.”

Savage praises Host editor Brenna Rangott for pulling it all together, underscoring the importance of post-production in your budget and schedule. “Honestly, what Brenna did with all this footage? It’s her movie as much as it’s anyone else’s movie. She absolutely smashed it.”

The Host crew also relied on fellow filmmaker and designer Dan Hawkins to build the almost 4,000 individual assets in the film, and producer Douglas Cox, who went through the whole movie to type out every single name, label and other Zoom interface detail. “4,000 times he had to do that, and that’s what you see to make it play seamlessly.” (And, yes, they had Zoom’s permission.)

Jed Shepherd, Rob Savage and Gemma Hurley during a Zoom séance for Slashfilm with Chris Evangelista.

Trust your gut.

The Host team were pursued for a feature-length version of Savage’s Twitter prank by a “mind-blowing” number of studios—“it was a really competitive situation,” says Savage—but they went with Shudder for one reason: instinct.

“It was the height of the lockdown and a lot of production companies just started ringing and saying ‘Is there a longer version of this? Because it’s the only thing we can shoot right now’. So we pitched to a bunch of places, and the pitch was basically ‘a Zoom séance, we don’t know if it’s going to be any good, we’re going to use our mates, are you in or not?’ and Shudder [was] like ‘of course we are’.”

It wasn’t about the money. Some companies offered more generous budgets, but wanted to release six to eight months after filming. “We were like, ‘no, this needs to be out this week’.”

Move away from the wall.

Since so much of the movie business—all those endless meetings—has pivoted to video-calls, we asked the filmmakers for specific advice on how to present yourself online, in pitch meetings, table reads and the like.

The very minimum, they all agree, is to have good lighting. “It’s crazy what a difference a desk lamp can make to your environment,” says Chaganty. And move away from the wall. “Rule number one any director of photography will ever say, is don’t shoot at a wall,” he adds. “The further that you can place yourself from that wall, it’s just going to look better.” (It also gives you more protection from any demons that may burst from cupboards during your Zoom, Host’s filmmakers advise.)

Chaganty reveals that the pandemic has actually helped his pitching abilities in video meetings with executives. Chaganty and Ohanian are currently developing a heist movie, while simultaneously pitching a television show. “Right now pitches are all digital. Traditionally when you pitch something, it’s a lot of material and you just memorize it. But now, you can have your script with you—but you can’t make it seem like you’re reading off a screen.” The trick, he says, is to re-size the window of the person you’re pitching to, and re-size the script to the same dimensions, then place them directly over each other.

“So you’re reading and your eyeline is exactly where they are, and then you switch over, and they’ll never know and you’ve just pulled it off perfectly because you’re still looking at the exact same spot. It just kind of feels like an incredible performance where you’ve pulled these great words out of your mind and your heart, without anyone knowing.”

On the other hand, don’t put too much effort into details that nobody will notice. “We were doing a table read for a film,” says Host’s Shepherd, “and I thought it would be fun to change the background to correspond with what scene were were reading. I thought it was really clever but nobody noticed except me.”

Producer Natalie Qasabian, writer-producer Sev Ohanian and writer-director Aneesh Chaganty on the set of their forthcoming feature, ‘Run’.

There’s no time like the present.

“When digital cameras came out, everyone started saying ‘this is a great thing for filmmakers because it really democratizes filmmaking’,” says Chaganty. “We are in a very small bubble where it’s even more democratized than it was before—that’s because everybody has the same resources that we do right now.

“It feels like John Oliver and Hasan Minhaj and Trevor Noah are all making stuff with the same quality that you can make, that I can make, just in our own houses right now. The longer this pandemic goes on, and the longer that it feels that Hollywood can’t make traditional stuff the way it used to, the more likely it is that the demand for content is going to rise.

“If you can make something good in this time, I think you’re in a really good spot as far as getting eyeballs on it. And eyeballs essentially are the things that can propel a career to the next stage.”

Plus, there are mental health benefits to making movies together, at a time when we are all being urged to stay socially connected while physically distant. “What’s been really nice about the whole thing is it just made it so clear how collaborative a process filmmaking is,” says Savage. “Normally people kind of forget about that and you have ‘a film by’, but here you had to put so much trust in everyone. It was just a really fun way of working. I recommend it to everyone.”

‘Host’ is available now on Shudder. ‘Searching’ is available via VOD platforms. ‘Run’ is coming soon to Hulu in the US and will be released theatrically in international markets. (Aneesh Chaganty has been diligently updating his Letterboxd diary, which includes one of our favorite recent reviews of Steve Soderbergh’s ‘Contagion’.)

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