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#but parts of all of these are written
ronanlynchbf · 7 months
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tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY
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prahacat · 1 month
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when the horrors catch up and you take an evening off to batch-process
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Shovel Talk(s) Part One
Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four
Steve and Eddie aren't even together when Steve gets the Shovel Talk from Eddie's uncle, but it is what tips Steve into talking to Eddie about his feelings, so he's not upset by it.
They aren't dating, not because he doesn't want Eddie, because he absolutely does. It's just that he wants to be sure Eddie wants him back. There are times when he's sure, when Eddie gets into his space a bit too close, or more often, than he does with anyone else. Eddie calls him a thousand and one nicknames, ranging from sweet to irritating but just when Steve thinks that's a perk left just for him, Eddie hands someone else a new nickname (just the one, a voice in Steve's head that sounds suspiciously like Robin says).
Not that any of that is the point. Wayne wouldn't bother to give Steve a shovel talk at all unless he knew how Eddie felt. Wayne is a man of action, and he's never done anything unless it mattered. Meant something. Steve and Wayne have sat in plenty of (what Steve considers to be) awkward silences because Wayne doesn't talk to fill the void of silence.
The point is, Steve drops Eddie off at the house the government so graciously bought for the Munsons, walks Eddie to the door and giving Eddie a hug goodbye. He stays on the porch until Eddie shuts the door and then nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears Wayne call out his name.
"Harrington," Wayne says from the shadows of the wrap around porch.
So, Steve jumps and it's only then he notices that Wayne is sitting at the table and chairs set up on the porch. "Mr. Munson, sir, hi. Hello."
Wayne lets out a chuckle, but it doesn't really sound amused. "I have come to accept that you are nothing like your father, boy, but I do want to make it clear to you, that Eddie means more to me than anything else on this Earth."
"I know, sir."
"I know you do. And while I will forever be grateful that you helped return him to me alive, know that I will not hesitate to make you disappear if you hurt my boy in a way he can't bounce back from."
Steve's not afraid of Wayne, not really, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to flee. He doesn't, though, because he'd gotten enough shovel talks from concerned parents in high school, and he knows they can sense weakness. "I can't promise I'd never hurt him, sir, but I can promise it'll never be intentional."
He can't actually see Wayne's face in the darkness but he feels sized up all the same.
"I believe that, Steve," Wayne says, and it's the first time Steve's ever heard his name leave the man's mouth, "now go home."
-
Wayne's shovel talk was expected. Robin's is not.
"You took Eddie on a date date?" She whispers it as though they aren't alone in Steve's living room. They're laying on the floor in a line, heads next to each other so if they turn slightly to the side they can make eye contact. Steve's not sure why they always end up on the floor for Serious Talk Time.
"Yeah," Steve says, looking away from Robin's face to stare up to the ceiling, "I mean, sorta? We can't like... be open that it was a date, but we went to dinner and a movie and it was nice. Shared a popcorn and played footsie under the diner table."
"Whoa," Robin says. "I never thought you'd- didn't think you'd be brave enough to ask him."
"Me either."
"Steve," Robin sounds serious, so Steve turns to look at her. She studies his face for a moment before she's the one to look away, speaks to the ceiling, "be careful with Eddie, yeah?"
"What? Careful how?"
"I just think you could really fuck him up," Robin says. "You're his first boyfriend, right? That's going to set a precedent for relationships that might happen if you two don't work out. And I hate to say this, because I know you've changed, but like, I saw how a lot of those girls you dated in high school ended up when you broke up with them."
Steve's a little hurt, because Robin's his best friend. She should be giving this talk to Eddie, not him. But, also, he understands. He knows that Robin knew about Eddie's sexuality before he did, knows they bonded over being queer while Steve was still figuring himself out.
Steve also knows that Eddie's never been in a relationship before, Eddie'd told him at much when Steve asked him out. Steve doesn't like that Robin implied that he and Eddie will eventually break up, but no matter how much that thought makes Steve's heart ache, he won't know if it'll happen unless it does.
He just doesn't understand why she seems to think he'll be the one breaking Eddie's heart. It could go the other way.
"Did you OD over there?" Robin asks, trying to lighten the mood.
"No," Steve answers, "I'll be careful."
-
They've been on four more dates before Nancy knocks on his door. She doesn't accept his invitation to come inside. Just starts speaking on his doorstep.
"As Eddie's Capital P Soulmate," is how she starts that sentence, and it makes something hurt deep inside Steve as he tries not to think about Robin, "I am obligated to remind you that I do own several guns now. And I don't miss."
"Jesus Christ," Steve says, because even Wayne was more subtle, "I got it."
"Good. I do know you'd never hurt him on purpose," Nancy says but Steve doesn't feel reassured.
He thinks that, if she really didn't think he's going to end up hurting Eddie she wouldn't have said anything at all. "Right."
"Well, good talk Steve," and then she's walking down the driveway and climbing into her car.
He closes the door and goes to the kitchen to get himself a beer, mostly so he has something to do besides stew in his emotions. He wonders if Eddie has been given the shovel talk, too? Maybe Robin did the same thing Nancy just did. Showed up unprompted, threatened Eddie with some sort of bodily harm, and then just left.
Steve grabs the phone and dials Eddie's number.
"Hello?" Eddie's voice greets him, albeit questioningly.
"Eddie, it's Steve."
"Oh, hello sweetheart," Eddie says, "are you calling for business or pleasure?"
Steve laughs, "business."
"Boo!"
"Listen, uh, I had a question. I just wanted to know if anyone's said anything to you. About us. Or, y'know, specifically about us and our relationship?"
"Uh, not really? A few congratulations, I guess. Why? Did someone say something?" Eddie's voice is level, almost too level, so Steve knows he's trying to keep cool.
"Oh, no! No! I mean, aside from the scary shovel talk from- Wayne, everyone's been surprisingly cool about it. Very supportive," Steve says and even though it's true, everyone they've told has been cool about it, it feels a little bit like a lie.
Eddie laughs, "I can't believe my uncle gave you a shovel talk! You know, I keep expecting to get one from Robin but so far nothing. She must think you're safe in my capable hands."
Steve is safe in Eddie's hand, he thinks, but that doesn't stop the sting that goes through him. "Of course, she does. You've been a perfect boyfriend."
There's a pause before Eddie's voice comes through the phone, soft and quiet, "I'm glad you said so. I want to be. For you."
"You're not allowed to say those kinds of things when you aren't within kissing distance, babe," Steve says, because if he doesn't add humor to this conversation, he's going to tell Eddie he loves him instead, and even Steve knows that saying that a month into dating is too soon, especially over the phone where he can't see Eddie's reaction.
Eddie laughs and makes kissing sounds at him before the conversation shifts to chatting about the day and making plans for the weekend.
-
Steve is trying really hard to not be the person he was in high school but every time he gets to the point where he's being a better person, someone brings up how he used to be. Shoves it back into his face that no matter what Steve does he can't outrun his past.
One such time is shortly after Steve and Eddie accidentally come out as a couple to all of Hellfire. Steve was just dropping off the boys and had stepped inside to chat a bit. Once game time had arrived it had and Steve made to leave, they'd (he and Eddie) had been on autopilot. Eddie'd whined 'where's my goodbye kiss?' and Steve had stepped over, kissed him goodbye, and was out the door before it had actually computed.
Steve had burst back through the door, rushing back to Eddie, because no way in Hell was he going to leave his boyfriend to deal with whatever the consequences would be alone.
It had been absolute chaos at the table with people shouting over each other.
"Of all the people you could be with, you picked Steve!? You could do better!" Mike had whined, and Steve had thought for sure he was the only one who had heard Mike until he saw Will punch his arm and hiss his own 'don't be a dick' at Mike.
It took almost half an hour to calm everyone down. It was a relief to know that Eddie had come out to his bandmates/the older Hellfire members already. The kids took it in stride, in the end, and Eddie had shoo'd Steve away.
Jeff had excused himself, too, and Steve thought he was just going to use the bathroom but instead he followed Steve outside.
Ah. Steve knows what's coming.
"Harrington," Jeff says, "can't say I'm excited that you're the secret boyfriend Eddie's constantly sighing wistfully about. I'm sure Wayne's already threatened you," And Robin, and Nancy, and Mike doesn't think he's good enough, "but if you hurt Eddie-"
"I get it! There will be dire consequences if I hurt Eddie," Steve snaps, not down for hearing it anymore. He stomps to his car and peels away from the curb without bothering to look back.
-
If he's being honest, Steve didn't even know he had a breaking point with shovel talks until he gets his fifth one from Dustin.
It's not even a shovel talk. It's just a single sentence, said almost a month after Dustin learned about their relationship. He's dropping Dustin off after their DnD game. Normally Claudia picks him up, but she's busy tonight and asked Steve to do it.
"Alright, Henderson, safely delivered."
"Thanks, Steve," Dustin says, unbuckles his seatbelt, and opens the door, before turning back to Steve. He just looks at him for a moment.
"What?"
"I'm happy for you and Eddie. Just, don't hurt him, ok?"
He nods his head but can't say anything. Dustin grabs his backpack, shoots him a smile, and climbs out. Steve does wait until Dustin closes the front door behind him before putting the car back in gear.
He manages to get home, somehow, because Steve doesn't fully remember the drive. It's not that his mind was so focused on something else that made him fail to take in his surroundings, but rather that his mind wasn't even a part of his body anymore.
One moment he was pulling away from the Henderson residence, and the next, he was home, just standing in his kitchen in the dark. And now that his thoughts are back, or easier to process, he finds himself wondering why everyone thinks that he's going to be the one to hurt Eddie.
How many people has he hurt that this is his reputation? Is it inevitable that he will hurt Eddie? Is it truly just a matter of time until he breaks Eddies heart? Why is everyone so convinced that he will?
Briefly the thought occurs to him that maybe he should call up Eddie and break up with him right now, before Eddie has a chance to get in deep enough that Steve could break his heart, but just the thought of it breaks Steve's heart, so he's not going to do that. Doesn't want to do that. That would just be punishing Eddie for something he didn't do.
None of this is Eddie's fault, and Steve's an asshole for even thinking of breaking up with him because of it. Which feeds him back into the loop of thinking that maybe everyone is right about him. He is an asshole and will someday hurt Eddie, perhaps even on purpose.
He loves Eddie. He's in love with Eddie. But does loving him mean proving his friends wrong? Or does it mean leaving him before they're proven right?
He wants to ask everyone why they think he'll hurt Eddie.
He wants to ask everyone why they don't care if he's the one that gets hurt.
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emry-stars-art · 9 months
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@lyndiscealin your addition to this post… immaculate, I wanted to draw it, I hope you don’t mind I made minor changes 😅
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And did you mean for it to fit almost perfectly with the next bit, because I feel like you did, all I needed to add was one panel between - like, fix the mood in the last two panels and it’s like a seamless comic you’re a genius
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Anyway THANK YOU everyone is so brilliant with their ideas and additions 💕
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why-the-heck-not · 3 months
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making a new yearly bullet journal spread is serious business (I drew 72 mini calendar grids and my hand cramped)
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afewproblems · 3 months
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The Holiday Party had gone quite smoothly, more than he was expecting if Steve was being honest with himself.
Until about halfway through, but that was pretty par for the course.
Jonathan had unearthed an old Rummoli Board from a box labeled 'Basement Misc', the Byers were still in the middle of unpacking from their move back to Hawkins, and brought it alongside a bottle of wine that Nancy had managed to smuggle from the Wheelers liquor cabinet.
Robin, who rode with Eddie and Argyle, brought pizza, the only copy of It's A Wonderful Life from Family Video, and way too much weed for just the six of them.
"It isn't a party without a little Kush Stevie," Eddie had told him, clapping his warm hand on Steve's shoulder, his thumb just high enough to rest on bare skin above the collar of his sweater.
All Steve could do was roll his eyes and take the pizzas, quickly ducking into the kitchen before Robin or, God Forbid, Eddie could comment on the pink flush that had taken over his face at the new nickname.
Robin had been insisting that Steve just tell Eddie how he felt for the last few weeks. Rip the bandaid off and come clean. What was the worst that could happen?
Which, really Robin?
Steve knows exactly what happens when someone puts themselves out there only for the other person to not feel the same way. His whole argument was currently sitting in his living room for fucks sake.
Sure, Steve and Nancy were on better terms now, but it also took two years to get there, and even still, there was a weird tension when they found themselves alone together.
So, no, telling Eddie was not an option, Robin.
Steve could keep it together. He could deal with the ache in his chest at the sight of Eddie's smile. Steve could deal with the way his heart beat quickened whenever Eddie said his name. He could deal with the heady flush that bloomed every time Eddie touched him.
He was fine, it was fine.
And, movie nights like these were nothing new in the wake of Vecnas defeat and the destruction of the Upside Down. Steve needed to keep it together if he wanted to continue to have this. Nights without the kids to look after or the adults to hide their indulgences from, these were the nights where they could truly relax.
These were Steve's favourite, and he was not going to let some Bullshit feelings stand in the way of being able to see Eddie.
This Christmas Eve found the six of them lounging on pillows and extra couch cushions from the basement to make the 'best movie watching set-up thank you very much', according to Robin, and watching It's a Wonderful Life for the umpteenth time.
"I can't believe that George Bailey would wish for something like that, when it's so obvious that people care about him," Robin scoffs at the top of her voice about halfway through the movie, prompting a irritated Shush from Nancy.
"That bro is depressed man, it's like a cry for help, and on Christmas, this shit is heavy dude," Argyle hums, lifting his fist up to Robin who shakes it with a wild grin. The two erupt into violent giggles which begin to creep into Steve and Eddie and eventually Jonathan as well. Nancy rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that takes over her face as well.
"Who would wish to never be born when you could just wish for the bank to like, not fuck you over, seems like a waste of a wish if you ask me," Eddie says as the last traces of giggles begin to finally disapate.
"Ooo, Eddie's right!" Robin says as she reaches for the remote, hitting pause on the movie. She waves her hands through the chorus of groans from everyone except Eddie who turns around to Steve with an incredulous expression on his face.
Steve shrugs as Robin continues, unable to look away from those large brown eyes until a hand darts out to smack him in the chest.
"Steve, pay attention," Robin huffs, "let's go around and share what we would wish for!"
Oh shit.
Steve turns on the couch to fully face Robin with narrowed eyes. She grins at him, lifting a single eyebrow as her blue eyes dart between Eddie and Steve.
Steve opens his mouth to argue, to insist that they just carry on with the movie, only for Eddie to drum his hands against his knees and speak.
"Oh birdie, I'm way ahead of you, this is Wayne's favorite Christmas movie so I've done a lot of thinking 'bout this".
Eddie clears his throat and lifts his hands from his knees now as though he's about to launch into a story for Hellfire, "I would personally wish for the money to be able to fund Corroded Coffin full time, get a demo done, and then be able to kiss this fucking one horse town good bye!"
Steve feels the words hit him like a bucket of cold water.
Eddie wants to leave Hawkins.
His wish, his dream, for forever from the sounds of it, is to leave them all behind.
To leave Steve behind.
The voices from the group, pitched high and low, all blend together into one as the rest of the group share their own wishes.
Steve absently feels a small hand grip his own, he looks up to see Robin staring at him, a worried frown pinched between her eyebrows. He answers her silent question with a shake of his head.
It was fine, he was fine. This was a good thing, better to know now than later when Eddie would inevitably leave him behind.
"Stevie?"
Steve startles as a ringed hand waves precariously close to his face. Eddie smiles faintly at him, one dimple on display as he speaks again.
"Kinda lost you for a second there, what about your wish?"
"Oh," he manages to say with a slight laugh in his voice, even as his brain fills with static, "um, I haven't ever really thought about it, maybe some new music or something".
Nancy and Jonathan both boo loudly from the love seat while Argyle nods with a hazy smile.
"Right on my man, sounds like Eddie'll be able to help when his band makes it big," he says before turning back to the television and slumping even more heavily into the couch.
Steve forces out another bright laugh, ignoring how much it burns his throat and crushes his chest. The only thing keeping him in his seat is the firm hold of Robin's hand on his own.
He doesn't look at Eddie as he leans forward to press play on the movie once more, letting the music and dialogue fill the room once more.
Later, as the end of the credits roll and the tape switches back to static, Nance and Jonathan are fast asleep. The pair are cuddled up on the love seat, their heads leaning against one another. It would almost be cute if not for the pang of envy that fills Steve at the sight.
Steve tries to bask in the warmth of having Robin cuddled into his side, knowing it will alleviate at least some of the ache in his chest. Robins eyes have been steadily growing heavier as she slowly falls further and further into Steves side. He smiles, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face.
At least he has Robin, and maybe for now that is enough.
***
This is a part one, let me know if anyone would like a part Two?
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thesunisatangerine · 5 months
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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four
alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader
warnings: explicit sexual content
(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]
word count: 4.3k
It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either. 
Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.
It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.
These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.
You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?
———
A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door. 
Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other. 
“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”
“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space. 
Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”
You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.
“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.
Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”
You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?” 
“What?”
“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”
“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”
You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”
You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”
Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?
“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”
“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”
“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.
“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response. 
When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.
“You’re not going to eat?”
Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”
“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.
She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine. 
You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway. 
Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.
“Work?”
“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.
She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”
You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.
“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.
“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”
A pause.
“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.” 
There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.” 
Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”
A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV. 
By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.
And she did.
Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.
———
“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.
You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold. 
She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this. 
You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.
When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.
“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”
“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”
You hummed, “do you need it?”
“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.
As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.
“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.
“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”
She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”
———
Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras. 
She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.
You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.
The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth. 
Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you. 
As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you. 
Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm. 
The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.
———
Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.
“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.
“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”
“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.
Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”
“This.” 
A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.
“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.” 
“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back. 
You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.
“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”
“You’re welcome.”
That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.
“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”
Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.
“And what else?”
At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.
You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”
———
Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.
She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you. 
That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.
“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing. 
Then it was your turn to gasp. 
Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck. 
She knew just how to make a mess of you.
“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”
“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.
It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.
You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.
“You came.”
It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.
And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.
“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”
She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure. 
She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.
“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.
The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.
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lord-squiggletits · 22 days
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I think the key component to my personal reading of post-Delphi Pharma is that he's trying to be a horrible person on purpose. Not "on purpose" in the way that people have free will to exercise their own choices, but in that Pharma's "mad doctor" persona is a performance he puts on to deliberately embrace how much everyone else hates him. Basically, if people already think you're a "bad Autobot" and a horrible doctor who just kills his patients for fun, why try to prove otherwise to people who have already made up their minds about you? Just fully embrace the fact that people see you as an asshole. Don't try to change their minds. Don't plead for their forgiveness or understanding. Just stop caring. If you're going to be remembered as a monster, you might as well be a memorable monster, and eke as much pleasure and hedonism as you can out of it before karma catches up to you and you inevitably crash and burn.
I mean, I guess you could just go the route of "Oh, Pharma was always a fucked up creepy guy and Delphi was just him taking the mask off," but I really don't like that interpretation because, for one, it feels really wrong to take a character like Pharma becoming evil under duress and going, "Oh well clearly he did the things he did because he was evil all along," as if somehow Pharma breaking under blackmail/torture/threat of horrible death was a sign of him having poor moral character. As opposed to, you know, suffering under the very real threat of horrible death for himself and everyone he cares about while being manipulated by a guy who specializes in psychological torture.
The second reason is that it just doesn't make sense to write Pharma as having been evil all along. I mean...
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Occam's Razor says that the best argument is the one with the simplest explanation. Doesn't it make way more sense to take Pharma's appearances in flashbacks, his friendship with Ratchet, his stunning medical accomplishments, and the few we see of him speaking kindly/sympathetically (or in the least charitable interpretation, at least professionally) towards his patients and conclude "This guy was just a normal person, if exceptionally talented." Taking all of these flashback appearances at face value and assuming Pharma was being genuine/honest is a way simpler and more logical explanation than trying to argue that Pharma for the past 4 million years was just faking being a good doctor/person. I mean, it's possible within the realm of headcanon, but the fact is Pharma's appearances in the story are so brief that there simply wasn't room in the story for there to be some sort of secret conspiracy/hidden manipulation behind why Pharma acted the way he did in the past.
I just can't help but look at things like Pharma's friendship with Ratchet (himself a good person and usually a fine judge of character) and the fact that even post-Delphi, pretty much every single mention of Pharma comes with some mention of "He was a good doctor for most of his life" or "He was making major headways in research [before he started killing patients]" which implies that even the Autobots themselves see Pharma's villainy as a recent turn in his life compared to how for "most of his life" he "used to be" a good doctor.
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And although Pharma doesn't know this, we as the readers (and even other characters like Rung) know about Aequitas technology and the fact that it actually works, so... if Pharma really was an unrepentant murderer, why couldn't he get through the forcefield too? The Aequitas forcefield doesn't require that a person be completely morally pure and free of wrongdoing or else how could Tyrest get through, just that they feel a sense of inner peace and lack feelings of guilt. Pharma has murdered and tortured people by this point, and put on quite a campy and theatrical show of how much he sees it as a fun game, so why then can he not get through?
It circles back to my headcanon at the start of this post that the "mad doctor" persona is just that-- a persona. Delphi/post-Delphi Pharma's laughing madman personality is just so far removed from every flashback we saw of him and everything we can infer based on how other people see/saw him before that, to me, the mad doctor act is (at least in large part, if not fully) a persona that Pharma puts on to put his villainy in the forefront.
To avoid an overly simplistic/ableist take, I don't think Tarn tortured Pharma into turning crazy. To me, it's more like the constant pressure of death by horrific torture, the feeling of martyrdom as Pharma kept secret that he was the only one standing between Delphi and annihilation, the physical isolation of Messatine as well as the emotional separation from Ratchet, being forced to violate his medical oaths (pretty much the only thing Pharma's entire life has been about), etc. All of that combined traumatized Pharma to the point that the only way he could avoid cracking was to just stop caring about all of it. Because at least then, even if he's still murdering patients to save Delphi from a group of sadistic freaks, Pharma doesn't have to feel guilty and sick about doing it. As opposed to the alternatives, which were probably either going off the deep end and killing himself to escape, or confessing to what he did and getting jailed for it.
In that light, Pharma becoming a mad doctor makes sense. It avoids the bad writing tropes of "oh this character who was good his entire life was actually just evil and really good at hiding it" as well as "oh he got tortured and went crazy that's why he's so random and silly and killing people, he's crazy" and instead frames Pharma's evil as something he was forced into, to the point where in order to avoid a full psychological breakdown and keep defending Delphi, he just had to stop caring about the sanctity of life or about what other people might think of him.
Then, of course, the actual Delphi episode happens, and Pharma's own lifelong best friend Ratchet basically spits in his face and sees him as nothing more than a crazy murderer who went rogue from being a good Autobot. Then Pharma gets his hands cut off and left to die on Messatine. At that point, Pharma has not only been mentally/emotionally broken into losing his feelings of compassion, he's received the message loud and clear: He is alone. Everyone hates him. Not even his own best friend likes him any more. No one even cared enough about him to check if he actually died or not. He will only ever be remembered as a doctor who went insane and killed his patients.
So in the light of 1. Having all of your redeeming qualities be squeezed out of you one by one for the sake of survival and 2. Having your reputation and all of your positive relationships be destroyed and 3. People only know/care about you as "that doctor who became evil and killed his patients" rather than the millions of years of good service that came before.
What else is there to do but internalize the fact that you'll forever be seen as a monster and a freak, and embrace it? People already see you as a murderer for that blackmail deal you did, so why not become an actual murderer and just start killing people on a whim? People already see you as an irredeemable monster who puts a stain on the Autobot name, so why beg for their forgiveness when you could just shun them back? You've already become a murderer, a traitor, and a horrible doctor, so what's a few more evil acts added to the pile? It's not like anyone will ever forgive you or love you ever again.
Why care? Why try to hold on to your principles of compassion, kindness, medical ethics, when an entire lifetime of being a good person did nothing to save you from blackmail and then abandonment? Why put yourself through the emotional agony of feeling lonely, guilty, miserable, when you could just... stop caring, and not hurt any more?
#squiggposting#pharma apologism#i'm sure the doylist reason for the writing is just that pharma was a designated villain#so since he's a villain and 'crazy' it's fine for everyone even the good guys to treat him like complete trash#i just think from a watsonian perspective taking a sympathetic approach is way more interesting and logically consistent#what i mean is like. from a meta perspective one of the best ways to show that a character is super evil and not worth saving#is when even the good guy heroes. the ones who are supposed to be kind and compassionate and wise. see him as dirt#and this is also kind of a necessity in most plots bc TF is the kind of series that just needs action villains and long-term antagonists#so not every villain is written or has a plot to be made redeemable. and pharma is one of these bc he's not important or a legacy character#so from a doylist (meta) perspective you could read the autobots' disregard of pharma as a sign of#'this guy is not meant to have your sympathy as a reader. pay no attention to him'#but from a watsonian (in universe) perspective it paints a miserable picture of pharma being utterly forsaken by the ppl he served alongsid#and like yeah i'm super autistic about pharma so of course i view him with sympathy but like#the idea of being a loyal and good person for years only to be subjected to a Torment Nexus of#being blackmailed into breaking all of the oaths you held sacred. under threat of you and all your comrades dying horrible torturous deaths#then when your comrades find out about it they focus solely on the 'harvesting organs' and not on the 'blackmail' part#and then you get literally left for dead by your comrades and best friend hating your guts#and then you get rescued by a guy who uses you as a test subject for his evil machine#this is a fucking nightmare scenario like pharma could hardly be suffering more if the author TRIED to make him suffer#and for me it's like. the evil pharma did can't be decontextualized to what drove him to that. as well as the question of like#how easily ppl can write someone off as evil and turn a blind eye to (or even find satisfaction in) their suffering bc theyre evil#and either brought it on themselves or it's just karma paying a visit#like. i feel like if pharma WERE a shitty doctor and a terrible person his whole life then the delphi situation would feel like karma#but the way it's written and the lore retroactively put in makes it feel more pharma getting thrown in a torture carousel#and THEN becoming evil. but then being treated as if he was always evil or was some sort of bad apple#bc like i'm not opposed to LOLing when a villain gets a karmic torture/death related to the wrongs they committed#but in pharma's case it feels less like karma and more like endless torture + being abandoned by ppl who should have been more loyal
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sage-nebula · 12 days
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Sorry for the watermark, but I just had to snip this absolutely adorable moment from "Into the Light" from the 2019 Tokaigi concert. To me, it almost looked like a private little dance between them; like Marina did a little curtesy, and then Pearl a little bow, like she was inviting Marina to dance . . . but then, given the conversation that followed the song, I think it was actually a little pantomime of how Marina tried to introduce herself to Pearl when they first met (when she didn't speak Inkling yet), and Pearl invited Marina to come with her so she could show Marina Inkling culture (despite not speaking Octarian herself)!
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Well, regardless of what that adorable little bit was, things certainly did get kinda intimate for a moment there 🩵🩷
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abalonetea · 1 year
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Seeing this a lot in the indie book market with other authors works (I browse regularly as research for work) so here’s a hot tip for everyone out there. If you pick up a book that is clearly labeled YA/NA as the genre. And you give it a 2/5 star review, and your only critique is “I couldn’t connect to it because it’s a YA book”, then you’re being an asshole. You just plummeted that author’s overall ratings, and the books overall ratings, and affected their sales... Because you knowingly bought a YA book and then didn’t like that it was a YA book. 
I’m all for leaving poor reviews if the writing is bad, the plot isn’t great, or whatever other reason you’ve got. But please, don’t buy a book that’s directed at a certain age range or a certain genre, and then leave a bad review BECAUSE IT’S WRITTEN FOR THE AGE RANGE THAT IT’S BEING MARKETED AT! 
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tyttetardis · 2 months
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Macbeth Q&A 18th Jan 2024 Part 1
Was lucky enough to get a ticket for the Member's Event at the Donmar Warehouse that took place on the 18th...with the price of the patronages I sure never thought I'd have gotten the chance, but luckily, they also let in some non-members 🥹❤️
The brilliant performance of Macbeth was followed by a very quick cleaning of the stage - thought for sure it would've taken them longer to remove the blood than like 5 minutes - followed by a lovely, little Q&A session.
The Q&A was led by Craig Gilbert (Literary manager) who talked to Annie Grace and Alasdair Macrae (Musicians and part of the acting ensemble) as well as Cush Jumbo and David Tennant.
Anyway, just gonna write down some of the stuff they talked about :) sorry if it's a bit messy! Might be spoilery if haven't seen it yet but is going to!
To begin with Craig remarked that he didn't think he'd ever seen that many people staying behind for a Q&A before (While I was just wondering why some people even left!? Stressful!).
David introduced himself with "My real name is David "Thane of Paisely" Tennant - while Cush introduced herself with "I´m Cush Jumbo - there's only one of me".
First question was Craig asking them what it was that brought them to the Donmar to do Macbeth - to which David pretty much just replied that 1. It's the Donmar! 2. It's Macbeth! One of the greatest plays of all time in an amazingly intimate space - and that the theatre is famous for its quality of work. So he found it quite hard to think of a reason not to do it!
Cush said she'd worked there before and loves the theatre, how it's so intimate but also a great workspace. Followed by her saying she said yes because David asked her. She talked about how important it was for this play to do it together with the right actor playing opposite you.
David says Max Webster asked him about a year ago if he wanted to do the play - he gave him the dates - and since there weren't any obstacles in the way, David didn't have any excuse not to do it.
He then said that he had slightly avoided Macbeth - there sorta being the assumption that if you're Scottish and has done some Shakespeare plays before you have to do Macbeth. Which he joked was a bit odd since it's not like every Italian has to play Romeo. Then he mentioned that Macbeth is probably a bit more of a jock than he is - that it seemed more like a part for big, burly actors.
Max had laid out his initial ideas to David, a lot of which are in the final production, and David thought he seemed lovely, bright and clever and inventive plus it being the Donmar Warehouse! To which joked that he had last worked there 20 years ago - when he was 8 years old! "It's just one of those spaces" - friendly and epic at the same time where it's such a pleasure to be on the stage.
When Craig asked his next question concerning the sound of the play someone asked him to speak louder as she couldn't hear them - to which David joked that they've gotten so used to whispering. But also said sorry, and that they would!
Alasdair explained a bit about the process of the binaural sound - bit I find it a bit difficult to decipher it all correctly, sorry. He did say that a interesting part of it is that it allows them a controlled environment where they can put all the musicians (and even the bagpipes!) behind the soundproof box so "Poor David and Cush" doesn't have to shout over all the racket.
Craig asked David and Cush what their reaction was when they heard about the concept of the binaural soundscape - to which David replied that it didn't quite exist when they first came onboard - Cush joking they were tricked into it. Then she talked about her and David going on a workshop with Max to get a feeling of how it would all work - and get a sense of how it would sound to the audience, as this was one of the few times, they got to hear that side of it. Their experience of the play being completely different to the experience the audience has.
Cush said they can hear some of the sound - like she can hear some of the animal sounds and David can hear some of the stuff from the glass box - but most of their cues and information comes from timing with each other. She said they won't be able to ever hear what the audience hears - to which David joked "We're busy".
It felt like mixing medias - as it all went quite against their natural stagecraft instinct - but Cush found that in the long run it made things very interesting - like they don't have to worry about getting something whispered to each other - as the audience will hear it anyway.
David said the odd thing is that they don't really know what the experience truly is like. He mentioned that to the sides of the stage there's a speaker for them where they will get any cues that they need to hear. Like they can hear the witches - but they can't hear where they are "positioned" - so they have to learn how to place themselves to fit with what the audience hears. They don't hear everything, though. And the audio they hear is quite quiet, so it doesn't disturb what comes through the headphones.
He thinks it's been exciting - that it's a bit like a mix between film and theatre. It's happening live - but it's also like post-production is happening between them and the audience as it's going on. They just have to trust that the audience is hearing what they are supposed to for it all to make sense.
Cush said she thinks in 10 - 20 years, as these technologies has developed, doing theatre like this will feel a lot more normal - not that they will do it ALL the time, but that they will be doing it - whereas now it's still like an experiment. What Cush really like about the concept is that if was done in a much bigger theatre - then people in the cheapest seats would be able to have an experience much more similar to those in the most expensive seats - they'd be a lot more immersed into the action.
David then talks about how it feels extremely counterintuitive to not go on stage and speak loud enough that the people in the back row can also hear you. And usually, if they can't hear you, you aren't doing your job right! But then it felt very liberating. He loves it.
Cush then talked about how it felt odd waiting in the wings for a cue you can't hear - where you traditionally wait backstage and you can hear your cues, you can hear the rythm and know when it's your turn - so it was quite disconcerting to hear silence. So it's basically down to them now knowing the show and each other's timings - like if David is standing at a certain point, she knows how long she has before she needs to say/do something. So you have to watch each other more closely and really focus on what the others are doing.
David asked the musicians if they can hear everything inside the box, to which Annie replied that they get everything except some extra bits in the soundscape. But they can hear the actors on stage. Annie said it's actually a bit of a mystery to all of them what the audience actually experiences - how the big pictures actually look like - they just have to trust that it's there "Is it there?!".
Someone asked if they had had any adverse reactions from audiences to having to wear the headphones. Quite a bit of laughter all around :P then David said "There's the odd person" and something about if someone hadn't gotten the memo before turning up...but not sure how he ended the line. Then once again says that yes, there's the odd person who doesn't like it and that's fair enough.
The same audience member then said he could see the advantage of it in a big theatre where the distance is big, but not in a small place like the Donmar - to which David very quickly, rather passionately replied that it's not about projection, it's about being able to do things you wouldn't normally be able to do live - where they can speak so quietly that they can't even hear each other when standing next to each other. So even in such a small place, people wouldn't be able to hear that. It's about creating a different play - which isn't to everyone's taste and that's fair enough. But for a play that's been done a hundred and seven million times he thinks it's very valid to try and find a new way into the play - even if it's not for everyone.
Part 2
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fictionadventurer · 13 days
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Thinking about Rory Williams. What a character.
The completely ordinary man who doesn't become extraordinary, but is already extraordinary.
The coma nurse who can watch over patients becomes a guardian who watches over the love of his life for two-thousand years.
A man being faithful to one woman makes him one of the greatest heroes in history.
Being good, kind, honorable and faithful is a higher kind of virtue than the Doctor's flashy cleverness.
He didn't need to become a hero. He was a hero and got to prove it when put in extraordinary circumstances.
Just a fantastic character.
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angelizs · 1 year
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[Club Activities - part 2]
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Summary: Crowley keeps knocking at your door, quite literally, wanting to hear your club choice. You might as well get this over with.
Notes: gn!reader, humor, it's kinda long, reader is oblivious, mentions of minor injuries but in a funny way dw, it's the looong overdue pt2
Part: 1.0 / 2 (you're here!) / 2.5 (soon!)
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"So, have you decided?"
Crowley stands by the doorway. He looks completely normal, a pleasant smile plastered on his lips. You blink, sluggish, resisting the urge to slam the door on his face.
"It's five a.m. on a sunday."
"Yes, that's correct, good to see you're keeping up with the passage of time."
You feel there's a jab aimed at you for taking your time on choosing a club. Or on answering the door. In your defense, Grim was sleeping on top of you and you didn't want to disturb his sleep. Nor yours. You were hoping the Headmaster would just give up and leave you alone, but instead he only knocked louder. 
"Well?"
"Uh..." You take a bit to remember the first thing he said. "No, I still have some meetings to go to."
"Were the sports clubs not to your liking? I'm sure you'd do well in one, should you put your efforts on it."
"Nah, I'll pass."
"I see. Then, you'll tell me your decision by the end of the week, yes?"
"Since when did we agree on this." It was a question, but with your drowsy state it just fell flat.
"Since now, of course! I was very kind to let you take so much time to chose a club, but you must understand I'm under some pressure as well to make sure you'll have the best possible education here. We can't afford to lose too much time!"
You blink again, your brain still sleepy. "Oh. Alright."
Crowley claps his hands in an excited manner. "Wonderful! I'll be eagerly waiting for your decision, then!"
Only as you watch his retreating back getting farther away that it finally registers just what you agreed on. You groan, closing the door and leaning against it.
Well, nothing to do about it now. You should really get onto it, anyway. Still, your break will be missed.
Film Research Club (Vil, Ortho platonically)
You had finally left the sports clubs behind, time to try something new, like arts!
Since you've worked with Vil at the SDC, you were already used to his strict personality and thought you'd be able to handle yourself pretty well. You might not have that much experience with acting but you did know how to pretend everything was ok and your life wasn't falling apart, so you think you might have potential.
It was quite surprising to see Ortho there, but the sight of your friend's welcoming eyes and cheer made you feel relieved, relaxing amidst the Pomefiore students. They were intimidating, though in a different way the guys from the Spelldrive club were. The latter looked like they could easily beat you to a pulp, while the former looked like they'd give you a disgusted stare and call you a peasant in such a condescending tone you'd implode on spot. They were all very pretty as well, but you wouldn't let that make you self conscious since you knew no one could beat Vil anyway.
Speaking of, Vil himself comes to speak with you and explain about the club with a professional conduct as he says that Crowley had warned him of your special situation and that he'd let you help out, since they always needed extra hands on deck. You got hopeful at that, perhaps it was time for you to shine and discover a hiden talent of yours! These daydreams are soon crushed as Vil puts you on backstage duty and turns around, having something or other to talk about with the other members.
Well. That was... not what you were expecting. Ortho explains that in order to enter the club as an actor, you must audition beforehand and prove yourself worthy. That makes sense, you guess, so you accept it with grace. Backstage work might not be as exciting as being on the actual stage, but you had Ortho by your side to make sure things won't be too dull. And a side of you wants to make Vil proud of your work, so you suck it up and ask Ortho to lead the way.
Ortho shows you around the set you'll be working on for the day. It's one of Pomefiore's dorm ballrooms, and it's huge. You look in awe at everything, even though it's a bit plain in terms of furniture, it's quite detailed. In moments like this you remember Pomefiore's dorm is a castle, as you feel the royalty emanating from the ceiling, with it's luxurious chandeliers, to the walls, with it's intricate golden patterns, even at the floor, by it's quality.
He teaches you how to operate the lights and sound for a bit while the actors decide on what they'll film that day. You feel just the tiniest bit of jealousy at them, especially because Vil seems to be very focused on everything they say. Ortho must notice this (of course he would), and tries to cheer you up. After all, you're his friend! He doesn't want you to feel bored at the club when there are so many insteresting things to do!
You move from the more technical parts and go to the storage room, where they keep most of the props and extra accessories. You explore it, looking at everything but not touching, not wanting to get in trouble if you break anything on accident. As you're looking at an old mirror, Ortho picks up one of the pink cowboy hats and puts it on your head. It looks goofy, not matching with your uniform at all, and it makes you laugh.
You retaliate by putting a pirate hat full of colorful feathers that's way too big on him. It slides down and covers his eyes, making him look like a little kid trying on their sibling's clothes. Not to mention the feathers, that also clash with his body's design. You both laugh and go to different directions, trying to find more things to put on.
Ortho ends up with a vivid red sash wrapped around his waist and a wooden rod in hands, while you've got a pink feather scarf around your neck and a hollow steel rod in hands. You stare down at each other from your sides of the room, pretending you're on one of those western cowboy movies, even acting like it too. You drawl out something about the town not being big enough for the two of you. Ortho goes along, putting up the worst pirate accent with his robotic voice and telling you to prepared to be boarded.
Between giggles, the two of you meet at the middle, your rods clashing as if they were swords. You make exaggerated moviments that would be impratical in any fight while dropping the most cliche lines you can think of. Ortho dodges your attacks in slow motion and retributes with his own, making it seem more like some funny dance than a sword fight.
You were having so much fun you kind of forgot you were there to do a job. You're quickly reminded as the door suddenly opens and you, startled, let the steel rod slip from your hands mid attack and hit the wall with a loud clang. There stands Vil, hands on his hips as he stares at the two of you with one arched eyebrow, an unimpressed look on his face even after almost being hit right on it. You're not looking the most dignified, with your whole attire. Nor is Ortho, which helps you to not feel alone on the receiving end of Vil's judgment.
The three of you leave the props behind and return to the main area. More precisely, to the actors' dressing room part. It's not an actual separate room, but rather a space of the ballroom reserved for this. Most have put on their costumes and are adjusting the finer details, Vil instructs you to help them while he sets up the stage.
You try your best, but every actor sends you a glare as you approach them, making you turn on your heels and try another one. And another. And another. You're not feeling very helpful. How you wish you could just ignore it like Ortho does. The only thing you actually do is helping zip up some clothes when they can't reach their backs and do it themselves. You don't dare to touch their hair or you feel they'd explode you with their minds. There is one instance when you have to lace a guy into a corset, but you get a bit confused with all the laces. Maybe it's like tying a shoe? You pull on it with too much force at first, leading him to complain at you the entire time. In your defense, you've never done this before! You tie it up with a cute lace at the end to make up for it and scurry away before he could release more of his wrath upon you. You settle on following Ortho around like a lost puppy.
Finally, everyone finishes up and you move to the middle of the room, where the scene will be taking place. From what you gather, the movie they are making is about a royal family that's having their heir assume the throne, but there's a plot against him going behind the scenes. The main character seems to be corset guy, who still glares at you whenever you pass by his camp of vision, much to your (un)luck.
Ortho leads you to the first place he showed, since they'd start recording soon. You watch him work with the lights, turning them on dramatically as they start the scene and making it follow the main lead as he monologues about his woes of assuming such a big responsability and how he feels between the sea of people present. The actor does a good job, good enogh to appease Vil, who watches attentively near the camera. The thing is, he's trying to replicate a foreign accent and that, combined with his melodramatic lines, makes you have to stifle a laugh.
You try your best to stay quiet and pay attention to the story, but some of the lines and the way they dramatically deliver them sound so silly you can't help but giggle in your palm. Ortho looks at you inquisitively, tilting his head and trying to understand what you found so funny. You whisper an explanation to him, making him see the words in a different manner. As you laugh, he laughs along discretely, both of you having fun again.
Vil motions for you to keep your volume down, as to not disturb the actors and break their concentration, and you send him a thumbs up. Still, you keep on reacting, even mouthing their words with exaggerated facial expressions. Ortho seems much more interested in what you have to show than the lights, since he misses some of his cues and gets it later or sooner than intended. Which is also funny, since the confused looks on the background actors' faces are very entertaining.��
It comes to a point in which you're holding in your laughter so much you're a bit out of air, and you end up bumping into one of the controls, making the background music change suddenly, from a calm waltz to an action scenesque one. Your startled eyes meet Ortho's, and in true friendship fashion you both burst out laughing. Vil cuts the filming and strides up on you two, reprimanding you once again, and you feel like a guilty puppy being scolded by their owner. You must look like that too, since he sighs like an overworked mother and takes pity on you, deciding on something else for you to do and leave Ortho to do his job without distractions.
Vil gives you the role of an extra to play, just for you to have an idle conversation with the protagonist that won't last even five minutes. He shows you exactly how the scene should go, taking hold of your hand to conduct a dance and dropping casual chatter with you, looking you in the eyes, with a conduct that's so charming you're sure you feel your heart skip a beat (too bad it's just acting though). You feel like you can do that as well, so you hurry to change into one of the formal outfits and repeat the line Vil told you over and over again in your head, heart beating way too fast.
There is just one thing you didn't count on: you apparently have a bad case of stage fright. Or perhaps it's happening especifically because you know Vil will be watching you like a hawk. As you position yourself amidst the other extras, you feel your heartbeat accelerating and your hands start to sweat. You try to relax your tense shoulders and clear your throat, looking at the floor to steady yourself.
As your cue approaches, you move closer to the corset guy, whose attention snaps at you as soon as you enter his vision field. Even if his face looks polite, like a prince, you can feel the glare he's still sending your way, just on a more subdued level this time. You can also feel the stares of the others on your back and your tongue seems to have been tied. Your head comes up with a blank when you try to remember what Vil told you to say. Oh, this is not good. Why did this have to be so nerve wracking?
Time passes slowly, seconds feels like hours as the protagonist waits expectantly for your words. Trying to not disappoint, you blurt out a joke improvisation line, like the ones you see on movies sometimes. Unfortunately, your sense of humor is vastly different from Pomefiore's students', and the joke falls so flat everyone has to take a moment to recover. You wish for the ground to swallow you as Vil yells a "Cut!" and the other actors look judgmentally in your way. Maybe if you close your eyes it will go away? You can still hear the other's whispering, and although you don't understand what exactly they're saying, you can only guess they're mocking you. Welp, guess it's time to become a hermit at ramshackle and never show your face at school ever again!
It takes only a minute, but as soon as Vil has recomposed himself he commands everyone to be quiet. You open your eyes again, gathering all your courage to see the disappointed look on his face, but you're surprised that's not what greets you. Instead, Vil's got a nasty glare that's sharp enough to cut a man, and it's not directed at you at all! Vil procceds to reprimand the rest of the cast for being so inelegant as to make fun of a begginer and even mocks their need to feel superior. You've never felt more grateful for him in your life, maybe you can still go to classes after that, since no one will dare to mess with you and risk his wrath.
As the others look ashamed for being yelled at by their leader, Vil pulls you aside and tells you that maybe it's better to try something else if your stage fright is going to affect your performance so much. He sounds strict as always, but he has an almost soft look in his eyes as he congratulates you for trying to overcome that fear and that you did well enough for someone with no experience. You feel a lot better after that and thank him sincerely, promising to give it your all at whatever other job you can do to help! He smiles at your enthusiasm and it's as if the clouds have parted ways for the sun to shine. (The other club members look amazed, as they've never seen such a soft smile on Vil's face before.)
He then asks you if you know how to work with a camera. If taking pics with Cater to post on Magicam counts then yes, you do have some experience with it. Vil says he's got the perfect job for you: being part of the camera crew and helping to film everything. You accept, after all, how hard can it be, really?
Apparently, a lot. Vil had just left out a little detail from this job: you'd be filming the aerial angle of this scene. Which meant using Kalim's magic carpet. As you recall, you're not the most adept at riding it, flashbacks from winter vacation entering in your mind. Still, you had promised Vil you'd help on this, and you weren't sure if he'd find you another thing to do or get your complaining the wrong way, so you decide to give it a try anyway.
You wobble on it, camera propped up on your shoulder and secured by a sling strap just in case you losen your hold on it. (Which is very likely). Surprisingly, you manage to get the carpet off the ground without many complications, so things are looking up (quite literally)! And then comes the part where you have to guide it and you're almost thrown out of a window with the force it makes a turn. Your grip on it tightens and you try to wrestle it into submission, with little success.
Things procced like this, you trying to learn how to drive the carpet while making turns on the air and holding on for your life. (And making sure the camera is safe. You don't want a repeat of the chandelier accident from the start of the year, so you're not taking any chances). Anything you might have tried to film is probably so shaky and blurry it isn't even usable, but you have more important matters to worry about.
That goes on until you make a particularly sharp turn, causing the carpet to lose control and go spiraling straight to the floor. Luckly, you manage to land on a convenientely placed couch (has that been there before?) and doesn't get much hurt. You're clutching the camera to your chest in a protective manner, so it isn't damaged either. At least, not much, but it isn't anything the Ignihyde guys can't fix.
Vil and Ortho are by your side in an instant, asking if you're alright. Vil extends his hand and pulls you up like a gentleman, fixing your hair softly. He's really close to your face and you can feel your heart beating faster, though you're not sure if it's due to that or the adrenaline of the fall. Ortho reassures you that not even him got the hang of piloting the carpet, as it seems to only actually obey Kalim, and that you did your best!
You really did try, so you can safely say you won't discover any hidden acting talent any time soon. Time to check out other clubs. 
(Ortho tells you to drop by another time at practice and watch the recording with him, since he had a lot of fun! Vil tells you that should you wish and work hard for it, you may have potential and he'd be willing to help you reach it. You agree, since it was very nice to visit and, most of all, to get to see Vil on his element like this. There's an added bonus of you not having ended up at the infirmary as well, which is enough to put the club on a positive light in your books. It's a bit sad that's the standard, but oh well, nothing to do about it.)
Science Club (Trey, Rook)
Alright, art may not be for you, but maybe science is! Or... whatever it is that they do in this club.
It's a bit intimidating since there are way too many people there, more than you've seen in any other club. What could they possibly be doing to attract this many people?
Rook, as observant as ever, notices you before you've even set foot inside the lab, coming close to greet you and ask if you were going to join them for the day. You relutanctly agree, staying close to his side as he leads you deeper into the room, opening the path. You make sure to not bump into anyone and cause an accident.
Trey is at one of the work tables at the back, sharing it with Rook. He sends a calming smile your way and explains that it's a club with a vast variety of activities, as long as they're not of the physical sort. You sigh in relief, listening to him reciting things such as plant cultivation and chemistry experiments. You already have to do those things on your regular classes, so you're confident in your ability of succeding for once. Rook adds that this flexibility in activity has attracted many people, creating a beauté diversity of members. (Trey explains that there's a lot of odd people as he side eyes Rook).
You sit with them, since you don't know anyone else. Rook goes on about the experiment he'll be doing this time, something that will leave a beautiful impact and stay on the mind of anyone looking. It sounds a lot like what happens when you partner up with Ace and Deuce at alchemy class, that is, stuff is about to be blown up. You scoot closer to Trey.
Taking pity on you, Trey reminds Rook that there's an ingredient missing, since they had used all from the lab's storage on their last class, and offers to get it at the botanical garden for him, inviting you to come along. You jump at the opportunity, agreeing and getting up to follow him. Rook thanks his generosity and explains that there's no way a gentleman like him would leave all the hard work onto the two of you, so he follows along. Trey looks a bit annoyed, but you only wanted to get out of being roped into a crazy experiment so you don't mind much, as long as you keep Rook away from any potential explosive plants.
The fresh air from the gardens is much better than the stuffy feeling from the crowded lab, and you take a deep breath to appreciate it. Trey takes you to the temperate zone, the path filled with beautiful flowers of all colors and scents. The sound of the little river below you only adds to the pleasant atmosphere, the sun rays warming up your skin and soul. It's wonderful. You'd like it if your club classes were to take place there. It might be enough to convince you to join, the nature so full of life energizing your mood, a smile blooming on your face.
You pass by an area that has thicker vegetation and stands out from the whole, attracting your curiosity, so you ask Trey what could be there. He warns you to not wander to that side of the garden, as there were carnivorous plants being cultivated by the third years. You wave him off, saying you had those back in your world and they were pretty harmless. Trey looks at you in doubt, but decides to not question it, aceptting your answer and going back to his search for the missing ingredient. 
Since you have no idea what you should be looking for, you leave the boys to it, deciding to observe the flowers instead. Distracted, you end up getting farther away from them, the flora enticing you and putting you under a spell, demanding your attention. It's not until you bump into a tall... something, that you realize how far you had gone. You lift up your head, wondering if you had bumped into a tree, only to find two open hinged lobes dripping with sap closing on your face.
A scream gets caught in your throat as you take in the gigantic carnivorous plant in front of you, that's only coming closer. You didn't know that when Trey had mentioned them, he didn't explain that they aren't like the one from your world at all. Not only were they huge, but also seemed ready to eat a human at any given chance.
You're pulled by someone behind you, falling into a secure chest and feeling strong arms embracing your waist as the plant's jaw's close into the air where you were just a second ago. The sigh you let out shakes your whole body and you let your weight be supported by your saviour. You find out his identity soon enough, as a familiar voice by your ear calls you chéri and asks if you were fine.
After thanking Rook, he guides you to the main area of the garden with a protective hand behind your back, making sure you wouldn't stumble into any more potential dangerous plants, as he goes on about how they were "the hunters of the natural world" and how "such danger has it's own alluring charm, non?" You don't catch the glint in his eyes as he asks the question, too busy trying to get your heart beat back into a normal rhythm. 
Trey scolds you lightly for ignoring his advice, but he seems busier trying to equilibrate the plants he harvested in his arms and glaring at Rook, probably for leaving him alone to do all the work. Rook stays unbothered, putting his hands on your shoulders and staying close as he directs you to the exit, his usual smile stamped on his face.
As you put the fresh ingredients near the others that Rook had selected earlier, you notice some strawberries in the mix. You shot a questioning stare at Trey, making him laugh and explain he took the chance to harvest some of his hand grown special strawberries. He takes some from your hands, brushing your fingers together before lifting them up to inspect closely. The strawberries are a beautiful shade of red, making you salivate only by looking at them. Trey has a contemplative expression as he murmurs he should use them as soon as possible in order to make the best use of their ripeness.
You suggest him to make a strawberry tart with them and offers your help, on the light price of getting to eat it as well. He smiles and agrees to your proposal, telling you to follow him to the kitchens. You do, happily so as you carry some of the strawberries in your arms, leaving Rook to take care of the potions experiment. Really, you feel like you've killed two birds with one stone, so you pat yourself on the back for doing a good job.
Back at the first month of classes, you remember cooking with Trey, Ace, Deuce and Grim, and how much fun you had, despite the circumstances. With the group reduced to two, it might be more toilsome, but you were confident it would be worth it.
Trey finds an extra apron for you, tying it himself to make sure it would stay in place. He gently explains the steps to prepare the ingredients, helping you whenever you didn't understand something. It was quite nice, seeing Trey look so in his element, an unconscious soft expression on his face, as if he was enjoying himself. It's domestic, even, how you dance around each other in the kitchen, passing bowls and cutlery back and forth. He is good humored as he recalls stories from the club, making you laugh whenever he bemoans Rook's experiments.
The stories he tells are very captivating, so much so that you don't look at the recipe book, doing the steps on automatic. Once or twice you almost spill what you were mixing or use too much force to cut something, but it's salvageable every time, so you don't comment on it. You leave the crust on the oven for a bit too much, but it's only slightly charred, so you're pretty sure it's still edible. One of the flour bags slips from your hands and falls on the sink, covering your face in flour powder. Trey helps you clean up, but he's laughing at you and your now white hair. It comes to the point in which you're mixing the crème pâtissière and you get too close to the stove, making the ends of your sleeves to catch on fire. Trey quickly puts it out and runs your arm under cold water. The crème ends up a bit too lumpy, since neither of you were stirring it for a while, but it's not too bad.
Alright, maybe you're not the best at cooking. Still, arranging the strawberries in a circle on top of the tart was pretty fun. The last thing left to do is to let it cool. You lick your lips thinking about eating it once it's ready. You're about to help Trey clean the mess you've made in the kitchen when Rook bursts through the door, looking excited. He tells you there's no time to explain and takes you by the hand, dragging you back to the laboratory. You send Trey your best regards and wish him luck in cleaning everything alone. He sends you a pitying look back.
You should wish yourself some luck as well, since the motive for Rook to have brought you to the lab was for you to help him with the new formula he thought for his experiment. He explains that the one he was trying didn't have it's desired effects, as you could clearly see from the scorch marks on the table you were sitting before. He says that for the new formula, he'll need help to get the ingredients prepared and handed over, since he couldn't stop stirring it until everything was added in. You don't know how he came up with this solution, and honestly? You don't want to know.
Having no other choice, you agree to help him. He reminds you to put your gloves and safety googles on before starting, making a comment on how your cute apron would do as your lab coat. After getting into place, you follow all of Rook's instructions, preparing and handing over the ingredients he asks for. You have no idea what it is that he's going for, as your potions classes are still on a basic and more theorical level, but you decide to trust that he, as your upperclassman, knows what he's doing.
Dread pools on your gut as you watch the ingredients going into the cauldron. There's a hissing sound and bubbles emerge from the deep purple concotion. You have no time to react as Rook thows his arm in front of you just in time for the explosion to take place. You grip onto the table tightly and manage to stay upright, thanking the Sevens for your safety googles. If it were not for them, your entire face would be covered in a sparkling purple powder, some getting into your hair as well. Rook laughs and tells you that you shine bright like the sun. You look on unamused. Trey appears, having heard the explosion, and sighs, clearly being too used to this happening. He tells you and Rook to clean up as he starts to clean your mess, bless him.
Rook takes you to the nearest bathroom available, both of you trying to wash the explosion's results off. It has stuck like glue, and you have to splash your face with the cold water over and over for it to go away. You think there's still some of it on your hair, but can't bring yourself to care much. The apron wasn't enough to cover your body, so your clothes weren't spared either. Rook doesn't comment on it, but you can see him looking at you funny by the corner of your eye.
As you enter the lab, you see that the students that stayed after the first explosion had left. Rook wonders out loud on why they didn't like the innovation of his experiment, sighing as he goes on about the beauty of curiosity. You and Trey exchange glances as you clean everything together. You feel like you stayed way past the club's scheduled time and your arms hurt from moping the floor. At least you get to share your wonky strawberry tart. It doesn't taste as good as Trey's usual ones do, but you like it. You can't decide if it was worth all the trouble though.
Grim laughs at you once you get back to Ramshackle, your face is itching for the rest of the day, there's some sparkles in your hair for the rest of the week, your slightly burnt arm won't stop aching, you sent your clothes' laundry bill for Rook to pay. As much as you respect scientific advances, you feel that being involved in the research isn't for you (nor the cooking). Time to check out other clubs.
(Rook keeps approaching you at the halls to update you on how he's thought of possible changes to make the potion work. Trey comments he liked having company in the kitchen and help for cleaning up for once. They aren't very subtle. You don't even have to agree to visit the club again another time, as Rook has already volunteered you as his lab assistant and Trey has gifted you a recipe book with markings on which recipes you'll try to bake next. Guess you have no other choice but to go back now.)
Pop Music Club (Cater, Kalim, Lilia)
And back to the arts you go. But this time, instead of performing, how about playing some music? Joining the school band might be fun!
You're surprised to only find three people in the club. All the others had a bunch of people, but in this one, once you enter the classroom you're met with three of your friends hanging out in a couch. Why was there a couch in this classroom in the first place!?
It's not just three random people, either. It's the chillest and most extroverted people of the school, the ones that got along with everyone and were very popular. They whip their head so fast to the direction of the door once you enter you get a little worried for their necks. They seem elated to have a visitor, so you suppose this won't be so bad, even if you don't feel confident enough to play an instrument in front of other people.
Kalim jumps at you and envelops you in a big hug, a smile shining on his face as usual. Lilia pats you on the back, pushing you closer to the center of the room and welcoming you. Cater takes out his phone and takes a selfie with everyone, declaring it would go viral to have the cutest people of the school all together in one place and gushing over how many likes he'd get. They sure are a lively bunch.
Lilia plops you down on the couch, telling you to feel at home and winking. There's a center table with food containers in front of you, Kalim offers you a bite, explaining they made the snacks to bring to their club meetings, and Cater proposes to make it a culinary competition, in which you'd judge which one was the best. You were pretty sure you had left the cooking behind at the science club, what did it even had to do with music? Well, you weren't going to complain about getting free food!
Cater insists you try his first, a round tupperware with fried corn tortilla chips and guacamole in a dipping bowl at the center. It looks amazing, making your mouth water a bit. You take one of the chips, lightly lower it on the dip and take a bite. It's overall very good, the consistency and the crispness are wonderful, there's just one little problem: it's very spicy. Very spicy. Not the "oh no there's a tiny bit of spice in my otherwise bland food" type but the "my eyes are burning my thorat is burning my stomach is burning I'm going to burn from the inside out" type. And that's how you feel as you fan your face and drink the water Kalim brings you, though it only makes the burning worse, spreading it throughout your mouth and making your eyes water. Lilia appears upside down, hanging from the ceiling and scaring you, and offers you a glass of milk instead. You gratefully take it and chug it down as quick as you can.
Once you've calmed down, Lilia explains how he keeps milk around for Cater's food, that's way too spicy for his liking. Cater looks at you with puppy eyes, asking if you liked the chilli peppers he added to the recipe. You didn't, not really. It would be one thing to add some, sure, but it's like there's more pepper than anything else. You weakly smile at him and explain apologetically that it might not suit your tastes so much. Cater seems a bit down, but he only shrugs and jokingly says that not everyone can have good taste.
Kalim bounces up to you next, shoving his container in front of your face and telling you to try it. He proudly says he made it all without Jamil's help and that he hopes you'll like it. You look at the fried dumplings, remembering it's a sweet called awameh. It looks good as well, although a bit burnt, nothing that would stop you from eating it. You take one, getting surprised by how crunchy they ended up being, the sweetness exploding in your tongue. It would be very good, but you have the impression Kalim must have used the wrong measure of the ingredients. Yes, it was sweet, but it was way too sweet. Not only that, the sugar mixed with the cinnamon on the syrup also left you thirsty, as you downed another cup of water. It was like cinnamon was impregnated on your mouth, there was definetly too much.
While you accept your tongue will never be the same after the combo of strong flavours, Kalim reveals he tried to follow one of Jamil's mom's recipes for it, declaring it to be the best he's ever proved. He just got a bit confused when taking the measures for some ingredients, but he was proud of his work! You make a mental note to try to eat one of Jamil's awameh later, sure that it would taste delicious, and compliments Kalim on his efforts, suggesting gently to ask for help next time he has trouble with it.
The last one is Lilia, and you start dreading what might be hidden on his container. He seems preppy that someone will get to try his food, telling you that he's the one that cooks dinner at Diasomnia and how Silver and Sebek love his food. Cater and Kalim look at you with pity, shaking their heads. You've heard of Lilia's infamous cooking skills before, so you have to mentally prepare yourself before looking at what he prepared. It's... uh... something alright. Though it's unrecognizable, a dark glob that just looks sticky and burnt after the point. Your desperate look does nothing for Cater and Kalim to try to save you, as they look away furtively.
Aceppting your fate, you take one of the spoons Lilia brought and take the smallest bite possible while he stares at you attentively. It tastes foul, as expected, as if something had died in your mouth. You resist the urge to gag, trying to go for a smile and ending up with a grimace instead. It's horrible, there's no other way to describe it. All the rumors don't do it justice, it's way worse than what they say. You suspect you will get food poisoning later, as you down another glass of water. At least you're keeping yourself hydrated. Lilia seems to either not notice or pretend he didn't, as he keeps his cheery attitude and asks if you liked it. You nod weakly, hoping it would be enough for him to not force you to take another bite. He mercifully looks satisfied with the answer and you sigh with relief.
In the end you tell them you don't know which one was the best (you side eye Lilia's, thinking on how you knew which one was the worst at least). They don't look disappointed, content in having you prove their food as each munchs on their own snacks happily. You wonder how they manage to do it. Suddenly you miss Trey's baking and the wonky strawberry tart you've made.
As everyone sits together, Cater puts on some electropop song on the background that reminds you of the famous vocaloids from your world. You have an epiphany that Cater would listen to Hatsune Miku. You're not sure what to do with that information, staying quiet in shock as the other three talk between themselves. You remember him mentioning something like it when you went to do the SDC auditions, but you had other things to worry about and it must have slipped your mind. Once you've recomposed yourself, you ask what the food had to do with music, since the question had been burning in your mind for some time (not as much as your tongue burned tho).
They explain that the pop music club doen't really do much music, as the name suggests, they mostly just hang around to chat and chill. It has gotten them in a bit of trouble with the Headmaster, as they don't do anything that could actually be considered a club activity, causing him to have threatened to disband the club. Not to mention there's no new members for a while, no matter how much they try to attract more students. You consider joining this one just to spite Crowley. They clarify that they do play their instruments every once in a while to cover some song, but with their different music tastes they never reach an agreement on what to play most of the time.
You're curious on how they might sound as a band, sure it would be a chaotic but entertaining sight. You would ask to see this, if it was not for Cater excitedly declaring it's "gossiping time". They put on elevator music to play at the background and huddle close together, leaving a spot open for you to join their little circle, as if you were about to be in into the school's secrets. And that's exactly what happens, as the three of them seem to know about everyone and everything that goes on Night Raven College. There's so much drama you've never heard about, and you feel you know way too much about the lives of people you've never even met, but it's nice to create conspiracy theories about what would happen next in the soap opera that was other people's lives.
The topic changes to Magicam, since you were lowkey stalking the boy that had caused a ruckus in the cafeteria the past days. Cater likes his account's aesthetic, saying it passes the bad boy vibes he has, and whines about their club's magicam page. You weren't aware they even had one, so you ask to see it. It's... not what you were expecting. They might as well not have an account, since there are no photos other than their icon, which was the symbol of the club. Cater complains that they couldn't come to an agreement on how the page should look and were too lazy to try to work something out, so it has stayed like that for months.
Since you know how much he cares about this stuff, you offer your help! After all, it could be a lot of fun, and it'd feel as if you're the manager of the club. Cater lightens up with joy, throwing his arms around you and bringing you close to affectionately rub his cheeck on the top of your head, thanking you for being such a prestative underclassman. You enter your business mode, thinking on how you could go about this. It makes sense to promote the club doing something other than hanging out, so you tell them to pick up their instruments and pose.
You go around them and try many different angles. Kalim and Lilia have fun doing weird poses that makes very clear they aren't playing at all, but there's a charming genuine smile on their faces. Cater poses with his guitar like a professional, making captivating facial expressions that make even you swoon, only encouraging him to make different ones. He could be a model, you think, with how he knows all the right ways to smile at the camera and tilts his head just so to make him look cute and alluring at the same time, fingers skillfully positioned at the eletric guitar's chords, eyes lidded, hair messy deliberately, body facing forwards with confidence. He has everything to ace the rockstar persona, at least in looks.
You try taking some of them together as an unit, but none pleases you enough. There's something missing, but you can't quite put your finger on what. You give his cellphone back as you ponder about it. Cater looks through the photos, commenting how one looks "super cool~" and in the other he's "slaying". He decides it'd be a great moment to take advantage of his cuteness streak to take a photo with everyone together, yourself included. Cater drapes his arm around your shoulders and keeps you close to him, cheek coming to rest at your forehead. Kalim and Lilia make poses behind you two, laughing at how silly they look with all the filters Cater tries on. 
He ends up telling you to decide which photo looked better, as he couldn't chose just one, something like: "any photo with you would look cute, of course I can't chose!" You look through all of them, but only one gets your eyes, the only without a filter. Everyone looks genuinely happy, making your heart warm. Cater's is not looking at the camera itself, but slightly to the side, where you are, with such a soft expression you can't help but be endeared by it. It's him, not a forced smile and exaggerated pose, just Cater, happy. That's what the other pictures were missing. 
You show it to him, insisting it's the best and should be the first photo on the club's Magicam page. He pouts about the lack of filter, saying how the other ones look much cuter, but you explain that you like the real him much more than any filter, since nothing could ever come close to the real deal, no filter in the world could make him justice. You're very genuine with it too, since it's the truth. Cater stares at you, caught by surprise, and turns his face away from you, ears tinted pink, taking a minute to recompose himself, leaving you confused. Lilia looks on knowingly, smirking at him. You weren't alone in your confusion, as Kalim seemed to be just as clueless as you.
Your argument manages to convince him, though, as he soon comes up with an eye catching description and posts it, grumbling that you should be happy now. You are, actually, so you simply smile at him, giggling at his playful eye roll. Only after the picture was already posted and you entered on your own account that you notice your eyes were closed. You yelp and try to convince Cater to change it to another one, but he refuses, telling that you were the one that chose it so you should stick with it, sticking his tongue out at you in a childsh manner. You whine some more before giving up. Cater seemed really content with the choice, if the soft smile on his face as he glanced at it meant anything, so you let it be, resigning to your fate. You weren't even a member, so you hoped you wouldn't attract that much attention. (You really hoped Ace wouldn't find it, otherwise you'd never hear the end of it.)
He suddenly gets an idea to decorate the classroom to make it look more "magicamable", dragging Lilia with him to get the decorations. Lilia whispers something to him that makes him glance back at you with a red face, quickly scurrying away and leaving you and Kalim to look on in confusion. How weird, what had gotten into him? 
At that moment, the playlist shuffles, coming up with a song that has a very upkeep beat. Kalim jumps in excitement, saying that was his favorite song and he couldn't not dance to it. You can't help jumping your leg and moving your head to the beat, swaying to the contagious rhthym. Kalim notices and extends his hands in your direction, inviting you to dance with him. You know you're nowhere near his skill level and you'd look clumsy compared to his fluid moviments, but his earnestness convinces you to give it a try. You were sure he wouldn't make fun of you, so why not have a good time too?
Hand in hand, the two of you move together, not completly in sync, but in a rhythm that feels right, that's only yours. It's nice, seeing his content expression up close, foreheads almost touching, feet following the other's steps, hips swaying together. You spin once, laughing, he spins once, grinning wildly. You're lost in the trance of the hypnotizing beat of Kalim's heart.
The song gradually comes to a stop, making both of you calm down too. Kalim has one hand on your waist, the other still holding yours. You hold onto his shoulder, your noses touch, breaths coming in puffs, his eyes crinkle and it's warm, he's warm. Your chest follows his in it's rise and fall, your stomach does pirouettes, to the point you're dizzy, your cheeks feel hot. You start worrying you might have really gotten food poisoning from Lilia's cooking.
Before either of you say anything else, the sound of Cater's giggle burst your bubble, bringing you back to the real world. You whip your head to the door, watching as Lilia and Cater giggle deviously, Cater's fingers working fast on his cellphone's keyboard. You separate from Kalim's burning touch, your hands suddenly feeling cold, and stride up to them, demanding to look at what they found so funny. Lilia shows you, on his own phone, a videoclip of you and Kalim dancing together, nearing the end of the song. Your focus is initially on Kalim, as he glows, movements showing years of expertise, it's... beautiful. Then your gaze averts to yourself, and how, like you suspected, you were looking goofy near him, not matching the tempo at all.
You whine up at Cater again, asking him to delete the stories he posted, but he refuses, saying it was way too precious to miss. You lightly hit his chest and look up your lashes at him, pouting. His teasing expression falters, as if you were on the brink of convincing him. Lilia pulls you away and explains it was only on close friends anyway, so you needn't worry about the whole school seeing it. Kalim agrees that the video is very nice, beaming as he watches you two having fun. You sigh and give up, not having the heart to be a killjoy.
Lilia and Cater's hands are empty of any decorations, so you question them about it. Cater frowns exaggeratedly, drowning on dramatically on how they couldn't find any and how it was such a pity. Lilia covers his hand to hide a giggle, only making the action more obvious. Cater glares at him subtly. Kalim notices how the club's reserved time is almost coming to an end, deciding that to make a grand finale you should play an instrument, after all they should at least pretend they did something club related for you to report back to the Headmaster. And it'd be a lot of fun for you to play with them!
Lilia claps his hands together, agreeing it would be a most gleeful experience. He insists on teaching you how to play the bass, not wanting to hear whether you already knew how to or not. He gives you the instrument and shows how to hold it in the right way, trying to teach a few chords. It's a bit difficult to understand the confusing terms he uses, so he sighs and comes behind you, taking your hands in his and doing the movements, pressing his chest against your back, his deep voice right by your ear as he explains. You can't pay attention to it all, for some reason. You kind of feel dizzy again. Perhaps it's the food poisoning for real this time?
His fingers guide yours along the strings, gently pressing on the right spots, strumming the chords at the bridge. He murmurs the instructions, voice ressonating like the low pitch of the instrument, hot breath tickling your skin. You let him do as he pleases, dazed. The simple notes ring in your ears, lulling you into calmness, eyes closing as you let your sensations take the wheel, the frequency making your heart vibrate in your chest, as if dancing along, your head floating in the clouds.
It's all good and well until Lilia starts singing along. Or whatever it is that he calls "singing". In reality, he starts screaming some punk-rock lyrics right by your ear. Your heart jumps so quickly you swear you almost had an arrhythmia, your soul leaving your body for a second. Your eyes snap open so fast the lights from the classroom blind you and make black spots appear in your vision. You elbow Lilia in your surprise, thankfully making him stop trying to burst your eardrums. You get away, taking off the strap of the bass and giving it back to him. You think that's enough practicing for now.
Later on the day you confirm your food poisoning suspicions to be true. You've gained a new found respect for Sebek for enduring the poison Lilia calls cooking everyday and still managing to keep that impressive disposition of his. At least you helped the pop music club get more followers on magicam and spread their word out there. A bunch of people sign up to know the club, so you're all really happy! You felt like you've done a good job. (In the next week, the people arrive and see no sight of you, only of the dynamic trio. They don't show up again, leaving the members number back to it's original three.)
It was pretty fun, all things considered. You didn't get hurt other than in your pride and your social image, so it's a win in your books. Still, you're not sure you could handle their energetic and chaotic personalities combined like this evey week and risk getting deaf or suffering stomach failure. Time to check out other clubs.
(Cater comments on how the photos you took together got the most likes, insisting you come over again for a photoshoot. Kalim says he's got new songs to dance with you and that he's asked Jamil to help him cook for the next club meeting. Lilia tells you that you still have to take some more bass lessons to get the hang of it. Well, you suppose you could pass by sometime to be in the know about what goes on at the school and to get to prove Jamil's cooking. And to enjoy your friend's company, of course!)
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pixpirs · 1 month
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slythereen · 2 months
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“lewis hamilton will bring glory back to maranello!” bro that’s his retirement home
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ganondoodle · 3 months
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utterly random late night panic thoughts but
if you read my zelda comic and like it i love and appreciate you but i really do need to be upfront about it being very much a self indulgent enemies to lovers story with a villain at the center that has done bad but isnt bad at his core and is struggeling to come to terms with the fact that he doesnt actually want to be the evil beast he and almost everyone else believes he should be
yes im one of those people ... fake villain fans or something ... i think .. i dont know the rules to that ... q-q
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