#saoirse says things sometimes

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

xiii. and all the pieces fall right into place

— the one where he’s in love with you.

warnings: mykonos inaccuracies, mentions of anxiety, language, not proofread sorry! have mercy and ignore the mistakes, i feel like this is very romcomish and i actually quite like it! 3.5k words (+articles!)

currently playing: i'm in love with you by the 1975!

masterlist ✢ next

IT doesn't come as a surprise that actress y/n y/ln is surrounded by rumors and he-said-she-saids, her life has been a constant rollercoaster since March of the present year, when the news of her breakup to superstar Aidan Kim due to her cheating were made public by various outlets.

Since she decided to 'speak up' not two months ago, after letting the world drag her throught the mud, which in this writer's humble opinion, is the clearest sign of guilt. y/n has been on the road of digging her reputation out of the cemetery, not minding that what's dead should stay that way: Dead AND buried.

The public's opinion on the 'Queen of Romcoms' is progressively changing to her benefit, call it manipulation or excellent PR, word on the street is that y/n has landed a role that will mean the complete turnaround for her career in Greta Gerwig's version of 'Little Women' (as if we needed YET another version), alongside industry figures such as Timothée Chalamet, Meryl Streep and Saoirse Ronan.

One thing's for sure, this role will make or break her sorry excuse of a career. I hope you have taken acting lessons, y/n, because actual actors are about to give you a run for your money.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim's 'In Your Pocket' M/V features ex girlfriend's belongings.

→ y/n y/ln and Charles Leclerc meet again in Paris.

→ Matilde Bassi takes on the role of Elphaba in her return to Broadway.

August 18th, Mykonos, Greece.

It's true what they say: everything is worse in your head.

It isn't like you to prove motivational Pinterest quotes right, but they are right. This trip looked wildly different in your head and not exactly in a positive way, though, to be fair after the shitshow you've lived through for half the year, your head is not the happiest place on Earth. Or the one that sees the glass half-full.

Anxiety was the only thing fueling you (besides a shaken espresso, again not the brightest idea) as you left Paris with Charles. Hyper-aware of his presence next or behind you as if he was this magnet you couldn't tear yourself apart from.

"What is it?" he'd asked a couple times when he felt your gaze on him as you waited by your gate for the flight to Athens. Charles was the textbook definition of confident and composed, hiding his expression behind a pair of Bvlgari shades. At the end of the day your destination had been his choice, which was fine by you. If you had to think any more than absolutely necessary about the trip and everything it involved, you would have backed out and ran back to New York with Matilde. And Charles knew this, so he took charge.

You only had so many 'it's nothing's in you before admitting that you were terrified. Not of him, of course, but the jumble in your brain and your heart didn't translate properly into words and it only added on to another fear: making a fool of yourself. After all this was, in its reason, absolutely terrifying. Confronting your feelings for Charles after months of denying you had them felt like some twisted exposure therapy. And the voices in your head that sometimes sounded a lot like Mati and others way too close to Victoria and Aidan, went from telling you that it is obvious Charles feels the same way to reminding you of how unlovable you truly are.

But it was all worse in your head.

Your brain has toned the fight or flight instinct per your insistence that it is supposed to be for actual life-threatening situations, not seeing Charles Leclerc in a bathing suit.

So you're enjoying the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. It's a beautiful place and you deserve to have a good time with someone you have grown to care about so much.

“Having fun?” You ask, letting your sunglasses slide past the bridge of your nose to look at Charles properly.

It’s yacht day, and although you don’t usually fare well in boats and were dreading the nausea even before you set foot in the thing, you’re doing pretty well.

“Of course I'm having fun, I'm with you.” Charles replies, smiling. He's lying next to you in a lounge chair, basking in the sun.

It's probably not a good idea for you to be tanning, since, if you get lucky you'll be playing a girl in a piece taking place in the United States Civil War. But if anything, you'll find a way to solve it.

"Are you sure that's going to look good?" you question, raising an eyebrow as Charles points the Polaroid in your direction. The quite strict 'no phones' policy was his idea, and you agreed in a heartbeat. You were willing to let the outside world outside. Which is what led you two to buy an extremely overpriced Polaroid camera in a tourist shop. "There's too much light."

Charles shrugs, snapping the picture while you still have your eyebrows raised. "We'll see."

You already have a collection between the pages of the book you carry with you in your suitcase, and it's only been one day since your holiday started. Charles and you take turns with the camera, but to be honest it's mostly him taking candids of you and showing them off excitedly.

"Gorgeous," he says after he's shaken the little square enough to reveal your image glaring at him. "Even if you are giving me a dirty look."

You laugh before rolling your eyes. His compliments come more often now, and he awaits your reaction with a slight anxiety that recedes when you smile. "My turn to have it."

Charles holds the camera close to his chest. "Not yet."

"You're so unfair,"

This makes Charles laugh again, but still doesn't give the camera up. "Fine. Let's take one together, soleil."

This would be your second picture together in the whole trip. The other one is a very bright depiction of your confused faces as you tested the camera for the first time. You wanted to throw it to the trash before Charles took it from you and kept it in the pocket of his trousers.

Charles makes the most space for you to sit down in the lounge chair as he possibly can, but there's a reason they're individual, so you're still halfway on top of him as you try to fit in the frame. His skin is warm, as it was expected from being in the sun, but your body reacts in the opposite way, exploding in goosebumps.

"Are you okay?" he asks, lowering the camera. His Adam's Apple bobs as he swallows, trying to keep his eyes on your face and not the bright pink top of your bikini.

"Perfect," you retort too quickly to be truthful, "I just— I'm in your personal bubble."

Charles chuckles. His free hand goes down from your shoulder to your bare waist in a second, pulling you closer to him and over-confident movement that shocks even Charles himself. "I like you being here."

You don't know how to react to the most obvious flirting you have been subjected to by Charles. You are not even sure you're capable of flirting back.

Your relationship with Aidan just happened. That's the only way you could describe it for the three years that you were with him. It happened because it was supposed to, you met in the set of a romcom, you kissed and kissed and kissed, and suddenly you didn't have to act as much in love as you had to just live it in front of the cameras. It made sense, at least for a while.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment in which you had fallen in love with Aidan Kim. You had just let your relationship from coworkers to fictional lovers to actual lovers run its course the way you thought was normal and expected. Maybe that was the first mistake in a long line you can't seem to stop dragging around. It's not like you didn't love him—in some moments more than others—but it didn't feel like you had fallen in love with him.

And with Charles, it couldn't be like that. It hadn't been like that from the start, but you still felt like you could fuck it up any second just by not being able to make a flirty retort without sounding like you were being strangled.

"You do?" you reply, letting your weight fall a little more on his legs. Maybe words can be left behind if you can get a grip on your actions. You don't want to be afraid, and you want to cross that threshold with him, finally.

He only holds your waist tighter, clearing his throat before readying the camera once more. Charles wants to kiss you, of course he wants to kiss you. He has probably wanted it since he saw you that day in his Driver's Room sneaking away with a granola bar and a bottle of water. But he also doesn't want to do it in the middle of a yacht, rushed and mostly hormone-driven.

"Ready, soleil?" Charles asks, his breath tickles your neck and you sink your fingers into his shoulder.

"Ready." you smile, enjoying the warmth of his body more than you do that of the sun.

─────────

You finish applying your peach colored lipstick three seconds before Charles knocks on the door to your room. Although you're exhausted from the sun, you're also relaxed and content, you can't wait to spend more time with Charles.

"Hi," you greet as you open the door. Charles is wearing khaki shorts and a half-unbuttoned white shirt, and the same Bvlgari sunglasses he's been carrying everywhere rest low on his chest. "I'm ready!"

Charles nods, holding his hand out for you. "You look beautiful, soleil."

"Thank you," you smile at him, taking his hand, although you wish you could have wiped it on your sundress before giving it to him. After the yacht, the whole aura shifted. Charles' gaze lingers on you more than usual, your fingers look for his, grazing each other until he finally intertwines them. You hope the sun melts you into one another.

Though maybe you should start by hoping you finally get the guts to kiss him.

It was your idea to get some drinks before dinner, and after a simple Google search you found a pretty place where you could chill while watching the sunset. Regrets came after that, when you found out you had to walk uphill to get to the place. Charles can't stop laughing as you whine and drag your already sore feet.

Once you are led to your seats—a pair of cushions on the floor of the terrace—you stop complaining. The view is magnificent and the expectation hanging in the air has you buzzing in the best way. Something is going to happen, and you know for the first time in months, it is going to be good.

Charles is talking about last year's Dutch Grand Prix, when your phone rings. While the idea of no phones allowed was lovely, it was a little unrealistic considering both your careers. But you have made it work with the "only urgent calls" feature and automatic response texts, so you know this is probably really important.

Matilde is staying at your house per your insistence that, even if you weren't there, she could make herself at home. But sometimes she still calls you to make sure that whatever she's doing is okay with you.

"Go ahead," Charles nods gently, thanking the waiter as he places your drinks in the tiny table between your cushions.

The unregistered number appears familiar as you stare at your screen, and you snap back to reality before missing the call. "Hello?"

"Hello," it's a female voice on the other side of the line, chirpy and clear. "Am I talking to Amy March?" she laughs, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Charles notices the way your demeanor changes and he's unsure of how to react in return. The hand holding your iPhone against your ear has begun to shake and your mouth is hanging slightly open, lower lip trembling.

You did it. You got the role.

You are coming back.

"y/n?" Charles ventures, anxiously.

"YES!" you speak to the phone again, unable to moderate your tone. "Yes, this is her!"

The casting director on the phone laughs again, although her ear is probably ringing. "Hello y/n, I just called to let you know about the role you got in..."

You try your best to pay attention to her as your eyes drift to Charles, your free palm pressed to your mouth, yet unable to hide your grin. The muscles in your face are still trembling with a mixture of excitement and the urge to cry. You thought happy tears would never come back to you.

Still unsure of what's happening, Charles looks at the people around you. Some have started to stare, others have already made up their minds about you being some crazy, noisy tourists and aren't interested in that. At least he's starting to feel relieved that you're smiling, although there are tears in the corner of your eyes.

You agree to a meeting next week and thank her around a million times before hanging up. It's official.

Charles remains silent, anxiously waiting for you to share the news.

"I got it!" you screech, and tears roll down your cheeks. The salt in them touches your lips, but you relish them. You are happy, ecstatic. "I got the role, Charlie!"

An audible sigh escapes from Charles' lips and before he knows it, you're throwing your arms around him. Not even giving him time to speak.

You're still crying as he envelops you in a hug that leaves you breathless. His hand runs down the back of your head and pulls you closer by your lower back.

"I knew you could do it," he whispers softly, before his lips brush against your temple. "Congratulations my sun."

The possessive has your stomach filling with butterflies and you hug Charles even tighter. You are grateful for him, because he did believe in you, and he has stuck to your side no matter how crazy your environment gets. He cares about you, genuinely and deeply.

Later you will have a recollection of moments that are tinted pink in your mind. Reminding you of all the times where you realized you were in love with Charles. But this one right here is the one where you realize you are so in love with the man holding you in his arms you can hardly breathe.

"Thank you, Charlie," you hiccup slightly, overwhelmed with every single emotion in your body. "Thank you."

Charles kisses your cheek gently, holding your face with both hands. "I'm really proud of you."

You smile widely as he runs a thumb across your cheek to wipe your tears. "Thanks."

You return to your own cushion hurriedly, too happy to feel embarrassed about the show you just put up for the rest of the tourists.

Now there's just one thing left for this to be perfect.

─────────

You're walking hand in hand back to the hotel, stopping with any chance you get. Attempting to make the night longer before you have to part ways at the door of your respective hotel rooms and spend yet another night tossing and turning, haunted by what could be or what could have been between the two of you.

But time is running out as you reach your floor and neither has given that step that will throw you both off the edge. In a good way, though.

"So, goodnight?" Charles rubs the back of his head anxiously, letting go of your hand as you rummage your beach bag for the key to your room.

You look up at him, the keycard already between your index and middle finger. "Goodnight, Charlie."

It's all awkwardness as Charles reaches for your hand again and gives it a gentle kiss. His stubble feels raspy against the back of your hand. You wrap your arms around him again letting your hand touch the back of his neck. Neither of you want to actually say goodnight.

"See you tomorrow," you mutter, aware that you've already hugged him more than what's socially acceptable.

Charles nods, squeezing your hand one last time before letting you disappear inside your room.

You want to scream into your pillow and hit yourself in the head. But Charles would probably be able to hear the banging against the wall and it would mortify you. You make yourself busy for a few minutes by removing your makeup and changing your clothes, before you finally listen to the impulse nagging your brain.

Go and find Charles.

You open the door to your room before your anxiety makes you hesitate and you find Charles closing the door to his.

"Oh," you say, slowly.

"Do you want to sit with me on the balcony?" Charles rushes to say, fighting against his anxiety much like you.

Both your rooms are the exact same, so when he points to his room, you move out of the door to yours instead.

"Yes."

Charles enters your room slowly, as if it's unknown territory, although it mirrors his. Maybe a little messier since you just threw your clothes all over the place as you ranted to yourself about how stupid and childish you were being just ten minutes ago.

"Sorry for the mess," you cringe, throwing the bottom of your bikini to one side with your left foot. You will probably be looking for that thing like crazy tomorrow, but you're trying to focus on the now.

"It's okay," Charles assures, smiling as he crosses the room to the glass door that leads to the balcony. Two lounge chairs and a simple table await.

You follow after him once you've grabbed some tiny bottles from the mini bar, two Red Labels and one Hennessy. Offering one to Charles before sitting in the chair next to him. Liquid courage, if anything.

Charles uncaps his Red Label and jiggles it gently towards you. "Toast?"

"To what?" you question, placing the tiny cap on the table. You've toasted to your new role several times already, and honestly it doesn't get old, but you want Charles to say whatever is on his mind.

"To us," Charles smiles, his eyes never leaving you. "For being here, together."

You clink the tiny bottle against his before downing half of the whisky in one gulp.

Both stay silent for a few minutes, listening to the waves crash against the shore and the sounds of people getting back to their rooms on the other side.

"I can feel you looking at me," you hum, still staring out the balcony and not back at Charles. "Charles?"

"That's because I'm looking at you," he responds nonchalantly. "Because you're beautiful."

You finally look at him, shaking your head lightly. "Thank you."

"And I'm in love with you, y/n," he's almost breathless by the time he says your name, but doesn't stop to take a sharp breath. He doesn't even hesitate as he changes his position in the lounge chair, his whole body facing you. "I am so in love with you, I don't understand how the fuck is my heart able to keep beating."

It's like the world has paused for Charles to continue with his confession in peace. All of Mykonos is holding its breath, even the sea.

"I know you already know," he adds as you open your mouth. "But I have to tell you because I cannot keep swallowing the words every time you look at me like that. I'm in love with you, and you don't have to say it back."

You're moving in slow motion as you leave your chair, you can feel your hands shaking but fight against the motion of pinching your thigh or pulling on the string of your shorts. You're nervous, but you're not about to back down. Charles holds his breath when you stand in front of him, but stands up too.

"I'm in love with you too," you breathe, placing a hand on his chest. His heart is going so fast, it's like the words he spoke not a minute ago float in the air. "I really am in love with you, Charles."

Charles is mildly afraid of touching you, as if by doing so you would disappear. But the urgency to finally kiss you is bigger than his fear, and he wants to hold you and blend your bodies together and so, so many things all at once.

His hands grip your face firmly, but not with enough strength to hurt you and you close your eyes, melting into the way his lips touch yours. Softly, tentatively at first. As if testing the pieces of a puzzle you're not quite certain they fit together. But you respond immediately, moving your mouth against his and taking your hand to his jaw.

And it's like overflowing gates have finally opened.

Charles stumbles back to the low chair, pulling you with him swiftly yet with care. His hands have traveled down to your hips and he helps you settle on his lap, straddling him. He has wished for this moment so many times, has fantasized about it on countless occasions, and none of those daydreams compare to the way your lips feel against his. The way your hands move to his hair and how you grip his shoulders to maintain balance.

And it's only when you really need to breathe again that you break the kiss. Your chests rise and fall frantically, matching your heartbeats. You can't wait to kiss him again. You never want to stop kissing him.

He's staring at you, and he has never looked more beautiful than right now with his disheveled hair and reddened lips. And his eyes are so bright when he looks at you, your heart races even more.

So you kiss him again, pressing your chest tighter against him as he holds the back of your head and your lower back. His tongue tastes like whisky and mint as he runs it down your lower lip, and you let him deepen the kiss as much as he wants to. Both of you have wanted this for months, and it's enough and nothing at all, at the same time.

"I'm yours, y/n," Charles says between kisses, breathless and with a tinge of desperation. "Je suis à toi, mon soleil."

And you kiss him again, and again, and again. Because you're his too. You have been his for so long.

─── team principal radio: ❝in the wise words of taylor swift: it's been a long time coming! thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed this chapter because i LOVED writing it. also, thank you so much for being so patient and waiting for an update! i'm glad you're still here❤️❞

✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @jamie-selwyn @lu-morningstar @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @missenclod @buendiabebeta @karmabyfernando @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @aethernals @xoxoloverb @xjval @strolleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxulaa @steephanie07 @anonymous8462 @tbsloneely @pukklv @bn7921 @be-your-coffee-pot @fdl305 @lovely-blackinnon @landonorizzz @ruleroftheuniverse @ivegotparticulartaste

want to join the paddock club? click here!

if you are not tagged please check your blog settings because tumblr isn't letting me tag you

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fluff #cl16 fanfic #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

[watermelonsugacry]

I know bandmate! y/n is british i think, but in my head i always imagine her as like a full on irish version of Louis, like she's got the most thick Dublin accent and is always swearing and always calls Niall a "Culchie" cause he's from Mullingar

I think i think it cause im irish but it fits so perfectly in my head

I think the best way to show the accent im talking about would be Saoirse Ronan's and a mix of other Northern Dublin accents

but when she's trying to act professional in interviews etc she'll slip into a South Dublin or even kind of American accent but once something funny happens or shes gotten comfortable she'll go back to how she normally talks and just comes off really loud and fun 😭

i...LOVE THIS

bc for me, yn's accent is like louis's: thick, sometimes hard to understand for americans, swearing, etc.

i love Saoirse's accent like it's pure music to me ngl. speaking of her and interviews though, that's something yn would do a lot: speak in a "clearer" accent for other people to understand her.

for her press interviews for Little Women, people would always compliment her on how good her american accent was:

"'Fank you!" YN beams from her seat in between Flo and Timothée. "S'quite funny because in the band, Niall and I would always try to mimic accents where ever we went for tour just to sort of entertain ourselves. So me dialect coach for the film was quite happy with how much pronunciation I knew 'cause some of it can be quite hard. And actually, tweaking me accent every now and then for interviews and things like that with the band was like a normal thing for me after a while."

"Whatever for?" Flo questions from her right.

"S'cause people wouldn't bloody understand meh," YN laughs and the room follows suit.

"Well I think your accent is beautiful, truly," Timothée compliments, making YN coo and briefly rest her head on his shoulder.

Or when she's on tour and she's trying to talk with a fan:

"'Ello! Wha's yeh name? Furn? That's a beautiful name—"

Fern! It's Fern!

"Furn?"

No, Fern!

"Furn," YN retorts back with a furrow of her eyebrows. "Like the thingys Harry has tattooed." She tries to explain as she motions to her lower stomach.

Yes!

"Well tha's what m'bloody saying innt?" YN laughs as she throws her hands up. "M'from north'rn England, babe. V'got an accent. Fern, right?" The crowd erupts into a fit of laughter and screams at the sound of her Vally Girl accent. "Fern. No, my name is Fern. Ferrrn. I don't think this bitch understands me." YN sassily teases, her pointer finger up and waving from side to side.

Later on in the show as YN covers Alive, she sings:

Went to a party just after the doctor talked to me I met Fern, I took her in up to the balcony

#harry x 1dbandmember!reader #since 2010 series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #harry styles fanfic #one direction fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #famous!reader #famous!yn #harry styles masterlist

[folkbreeze]

📩 Simblr question of the day: Do you have any blogs that make your day when they post? Mention them! Tell us why you like them!

ooof i have a lot! I've been keeping this in my inbox because i didn'twant to forget about anyone but... if i follow you know that your posts make me happy.

a little heads up, english is not my first language and when i get excited i forget how language in general works so... yeah, enjoy i guess

a long list under the cut:

@nihilismtrcit i haven't been around long and yet i instantly fell in love with Marnie, I miss her so much! I wish you a nice semi-hiatus tho, no pressure (but i miss you)

@peonypyxels do I really need to explain myself here like... the lights, the sims, the builds, THE TALENT!! I'm way too attached to your sims that sometimes i forget they're not my actual friends

@cowboycid it's cool to be really good at one thing and to be not so good at others, but you??? No you decided you were gonna be amazing in general. The lookbooks? Your sims? Your builds? All immaculate

@apricote have you seen those posts??? it feels like you're in a dream or watching memories and i live for it! I have to make a special mention to bby Fennec, he's such a cute little person

@weindenburg I want to live in your game with your little family and i dare say more, i want to hold baby tala in my arms! Also your cc is so good the only sad thing is that there isn't more of it

@mysticmoon-s my eyes are in love with your posts, every time i come across them i'm like how can see llike this in real life. And your sims are always so pretty!!

@ellcrze it's always so pleasing to see your posts, I'm not sure how you do it but they're so peacefull! And i can't even begin to talk about your youtube channel, I enjoy your videos so much!!

@softerhaze is there something you do that i don't like? The answer is no, in case there's any doubt. The soft warm vibes of your posts, your sims family, your amazing cc... ah it's all so nice

@pixelglam sometimes i wish i was one of your sims because they're always living the GOOD life and the good life only! Your lookbooks are really nice you have such amazing taste

@lucidicer sometimes you just need a random person you follow on tumblr to wish you good night and good morning. It's you. I usually don't have the energy to read text post but yours? no no i eat that as if i'm in the 90s and am reading a newspaper while taking breakfast. Also, your renders?????? hello is that real???

@sojutrait your sims are always like so. well. done. I have to admit i have a soft spot in my little heart for wyatt he's a little baby, sometimes i just randomly remember about him. I'm so excited for the monsters are due in Idaho!!

@birdietrait I trully love your sims, you somehow give each of them distinctive features and facial expressions and i can only sit back and admire your work!

@mattodore I wish I was Matthias so I could have Theodore love me and viceversa. Also, your posts feel like treats for when I come home all tired from a really hard day

@literalite uhm excuse me, are you sure it's legal to post works of literal ART here??? and without a warning? For real your edits are a spiritual experience and your sims feel more like actual people

@moonsyrups I've been seeing your pip legacy posts and !!!! i cannot express how much i love them, they feel so dreamy i want to be in them so bad, everything is so vibrant yet so soft, it's soooo good

@elmleif your postcard legacy challenge is so easy to love!!! Cillian and Saoirse are such a cute couple and Weston and Rowan... I have no words for them I just want them to life the happiest of lives.

@briteboy I already told you that my brain specifically remembered your posts from when I was around years ago, and i have reasons for it. Your posts are so cinematic and your characters are memorable (i was so happy to see santi again btw)

@softpine the emotional damage i get when i see your posts is equal to the happiness they give me ironically. Your story feels like it should be studied in literature classes and the things you create for it, wow, you're so talented!

#every time i was like ok its done #my brain would remember someone else i HAD to add to the list #so i had to stop at some point before I listed every single person here #anyway love you #i have to admit i was a little scared to tag all these amazing people but... you deserve it #ask

[couldneverhurtusnow]

No, no. We HAVE to talk about that quote and Paul and Andrew falling in love on set. WTF is going on. I have gone from, yes I can see this chemistry to... yeah they have done it to... are they a couple? Why would he say that out loud!

haha, to be fair, claire foy also acknowledged that 'you're falling in love with a person you're not in love with' (though it happens that actors actually end up falling in love sometimes, she said) & sometimes it can get very confusing, kind of blurring of lines, i guess -- your body doesn't know you're acting, actors end up tricking their body (she mentions how she reacted to seeing herself on screen because her body was remembering of what it was going through in that moment). so, i don't want to overanalyze, but i can't really recall actors ever being this open with 'falling in love' with their co-star; to be fair, i haven't really kept up with any other press tour like this either though, so i'm not saying no one has ever talked about this before. i've kind of briefly touched on this whole thing before in the tags on a post, but i'm always kind of reminded of how jessica chastain was talking about how her & oscar isaac's friendship wasn't the same after filming 'scenes from a marriage' & she felt like she needed some distance -- though i guess that movie is very different to aous lol. so, i guess it's fair to conclude that sometimes it bleeds through into real life (because your body doesn't know you're acting & will react). & the bleeding through is what has got me unintentionally curious about these two; i can't help it. like yeah, they were friends before & have both acknowledged how they became closer & closer while shooting aous, but where does it end? are actors truly superior humans & able to switch it all off once filming wraps up? it's the fact that they don't seem to want to distance themselves from one another that has me really question it? bc they've both played love interests before & stayed friends with those actors, but this feels different -- from the little i've seen of them. like paul didn't talk about daisy or saoirse this way, though to be fair, they didn't do a lot of promo for those projects. all i can think of is when my best friend confessed he was in love with me & when i didn't reciprocate he needed space from me & our friendship. but maybe andrew & paul are able to separate themselves from adam & harry and have set boundaries. & someone said that's just how irish dudes act with their friends so 🤷🏻‍♀️ and re: "why would he say that out loud!", they've both said some incredibly wild shit during this goddamn press tour, but that's a different subject altogether.

#does this even make any sense? i feel like i'm just word vomiting my incoherent thoughts lol #anon #answered

[destinyc1020]

Sunday confession:

No shade, but I'm tired of insecure tomdayas. Yh, timdayas are annoying and they tend to poke the stick at us but, to think that both Tom and Z having spent nearly a month in a carribean last yr, it took only a press dune 2 tour for her to realise Tom ain't the one is crazy. How are you a fan of her and question her like that?????

Like, I'm not a fan of Timothee rn now, but I was a fan before, and I know for a fact he has always had a lot of female friends as well as male friends. Kiernan Shipka is one of his oldest friends, and she's known him since early in his career, and her mother would drive him to auditions when he stayed with them in LA. She even made a funny joke about Timothee being present during her dates because she was nervous to go alone.

Now Kiernan is a pretty girl. Does that mean that they dated just because they are both attractive and close friends? No. Even when he was in college for a short period of time, he had a female roommate as well as a males. Did they date? No. What I'm trying to say is that Timothee's type is Kylie, lol. Yh him and Z are good friends, but that's it, lol. Just like him and Florence, Taylor, Saoirse, Lilli Reinhart, Molly Gordon....the list goes on. She and Tom spent most of last yr together. If that's not a sign, things are good, then I dont know what is. If it was to break down, it would've broken down by now. Maybe some of you guys should start curating your fan experience and stop projecting.

Also, Kerry and Tony are not good examples because their fame happened as older actors show that the fandom is more nuanced to shopping, and they both have spouses not in the industry. Like most of their fanbase are in their 30s, no shade. I'll be damn if I'm on stan twitter past that age, no shade.

Thanks for your confession Anon. I agree with everything you mentioned. At this point, I'm not even sure how much it's actual insecure Tomdaya fans, or antis pretending to be insecure Tomdaya fans. 🥴

Either way, REAL Tomdaya fans are NOT threatened the least bit by Timmy lol. It's obvious he's like a brother to Z. They have a brother/sister relationship. Idk why some people can't sense that? 🤷🏾‍♀️ He has the same friendship type relationship with Z that he has with Florence if you ask me.

Like you said, Tom and Z have been together for so long, and love each other very much. You're not just throwing away your relationship with your significant other because of a filming or press tour with a co-star lol. 😅

Sometimes, I really wonder if some anons have actually been in serious relationships before.

Yh him and Z are good friends, but that's it, lol. Just like him and Florence, Taylor, Saoirse, Lilli Reinhart, Molly Gordon....the list goes on. She and Tom spent most of last yr together. If that's not a sign, things are good, then I dont know what is. If it was to break down, it would've broken down by now. Maybe some of you guys should start curating your fan experience and stop projecting.

^^ALL of this. 💯

Also, Kerry and Tony are not good examples because their fame happened as older actors show that the fandom is more nuanced to shopping, and they both have spouses not in the industry. Like most of their fanbase are in their 30s, no shade. I'll be damn if I'm on stan twitter past that age, no shade.

#confession sunday

[thelikesoffinn]

AAA, okay - (it's fun for everyone involved I think, it's so interesting reading everything you have to say, like seriously....) My tav is a human noble, and her name is Saoirse (this doesnt really matter i just love her lmao) and she has a bad relationship with her family; her parents are very traditional in that they see men as the heirs, and women don't take over thrones/noble houses, it's the sons that do this. She had one older brother, and her parents intended to have another son to have the "spare" so to say, and instead, they had her- a daughter. No matter how many times they tried after her, they could never have another child (a lot of miscarriages tw) and they ultimately blamed Saoirse, saying she was a curse to their family. Her older brother eventually dies in battle- and he was the only family member who loved her/treated her well; in an attempt to get *anything* from having a daughter, they intend to have her married off- but she runs from home and never goes back; she's a barbarian and the reasoning for that is because she's so full of pent up anger and rage from her familial life that, well, being a barbarian is an amazing outlet for that rage. She's kind of on the middle ground of being good and bad- she likes to help people (usually children or people she feels are pure of heart) but she also likes to get things in return for doing things (it's how she lived after leaving her family!) And she's actually pretty vulgar with her speech despite having been a well and proper noble (she was groomed to be a good noble girl - because if they were going to have a daughter- she was at least going to be proper.) A bit blunt sometimes. But sometimes, her little noble girl peaks through in some situations. It's what makes her good at convincing people and being diplomatic... And I just wonder if Astarion would just be... So annoyed by her/hate her noble upbringing- like I always thought perhaps at first he pins her as a noble and thinks she's been raised with a silver spoon in her mouth... Like I wonder if they'd even work at all, you know? Anyways sorry I'm going on for too long- and her story is probably very cringe but I still love her!!!

Aw, come now, flower. We don't do cringe. We love all them Tav's and Durges on this blog. Unconditionally.

Also, Saoirse and my durge Whisper - born Alastríona- have to be chaps now solely based on the fact that they both have Irish names 👉🏻👈🏻

Anyway!

At first glance, I can't see why Astarion and Saoirse wouldn't work. I don't even think he'd be that annoyed - at least there's no inherent reason for him to be as far as I can tell.

I can only speak very generally, of course, because I don't know how exactly Saoirse would behave in conversation and what traits she carries the most openly, so a lot of what follows will be based on assumption.

The "worst" clash of character I could see would be the part where she likes helping people. But that's relatively infinitesimal of a problem since she at least wants compensation for what she does. He generally handles that better than he does straight-up martyrs.

Furthermore, Astarion is a man of quick judgement - both by nature and by affliction - so how he first views Saoirse is probably highly dependent on how she initially presents herself.

Is the first impression more noble or barbarian?

He might look down on a very posh noble girl, but less because of her inherent nobility and more because she's "sheltered". (She obviously isn't, but he doesn't know that yet.)

(And, let's be honest; the former would be rather ironic, seeing as Astarion is likely of nobility as well. I wouldn't put it entirely past him, but it would need a very special attitude to make that one probable. )

But, going off of that: Nobility is basically the peak of shelteredness, as we probably all agree. Like, sure, being of nobility might not be easy, and there's a lot of expectations that come with it, but, in the end, nobles never go hungry.

They don't have to sleep in dirt.

They don't have to grovel just to be able to live.

Their pride is intact in all it's facettes and their dignity hasn't been ripped to shreds.

Astarions, however, has.

His dignity was shredded by Cazador, every little plight against his humanoid rights leaving another mark until it's raw.

Over the course of the game, we see him regain some of the pride he likely used to hold in himself. We can see it in how he stands up for himself later on - one of my favourite moments being when he berates Tav after they mention that Cazador has "really destroyed" him and he's like "No. I'm still here." and all that.

BUT that's later.

He has to get there first so, at first, "sheltered people" are likely to be a sore spot of his.

I think I mentioned it before in another ask, but people who experienced a lot of trauma tend to view those they consider "sheltered" in a rather negative light.

"Sheltered" relates to naïveté and naïveté can be viewed as idiocy, thus leading to infantilising behaviour towards the sheltered person. They "Don't know anything" and "haven't seen anything", so "how dare they talk"? It's a very normal point of view, and Astarion is probably not different in that regard, even if he's not outright saying so because he needs Tav on his side.

But, with Saoirse specifically, I see another thing coming up that could possibly be interesting.

Saoirse was raised as a noble, but she is somewhat blunt, vulgar and angry. She is used to having poise and grace. It's what she grew up seeing, what was expected of her and what was instilled in her for the longest of times. But at the same time she's a barbarian. A barbarian! The very opposite of a noble; the true opposite of poise and grace.

That's a contradiction if I've ever seen one and with Astarion being as deep in his survival mode as he likely is...well, he'd definitely notice. He'd notice that her gait is too elegant for your standard barbarian, her poise too graceful and her choice of words too perfect at times to be what she seems. But he'd also see the rage she carries and her willingness to let it out when the situation arises.

It's two very different natures that meet - the elegant and somewhat cold nature of nobility and the fiery passion of barbarians. It will take time to actually see how those two correlate and that is definitely something that would have him wary.

Contradictions like that are dangerous, because they make people somewhat unpredictable. That is something he absolutely doesn't need right then. If he can't somewhat estimate her actions, he can't make use of her. Worse, he can't plan his own actions properly because who knows what sets her off?

No. Astarion needs Saoirse to be predictable so that he can be safe.

So he'd likely hesitate a bit longer before he can truly be open with her. He needs to scope her out and get to know here more - enough to actually see who she truly is - to feel safe enough to trust her.

(Learning of her past is likely helpful here because it weaves the red thread through everything. Knowing how she grew up will explain her anger, thus helping ease his uncertainty. It basically takes the contradiction out of Saoirse because her actions suddenly begin to make sense.)

But as I said, despite that contradiction, I don't see any reason why those two wouldn't work! If anything, I think it could be a very healing relationship for the both of them.

(Especially Saoirse, seeing as Astarion is extremely loyal once you're in his heart and he's not shy about telling you that you're the only one he's ever cared about. He'll choose you over everything else, maybe shy of his own hide, and that could be exactly what someone like Saoirse needs after a lifetime of disdain. )

That's it, flower! That's as much as I can say from what you've told me - but do hit me up if you'd like to know more or for whatever other reason!

Saoirse sounds absolutely lovely, and I would love to hear more about her ❤️

#ily #asks #bg3 #tav #tavstarion #astarion

[manybcdthings]

murphy apartment, nov. 30th

hunter cross and liadan murphy @gloriouswhispers

Hunter stayed true to his word. He stopped by every day to spend time with Saoirse but not much else was discussed between him and Lia. Sometimes, the Tennessee sun would take herself out of the apartment entirely leaving just him and their daughter. That was when Hunter said the most, speaking softly to Saoirse as if she would answer until everything that he uttered became apologies. Sorry that her father made her mother so miserable. Sorry that her father made everyone around him darken and heavy. Sorry that she had him as a father.

The full moon catapulted all of them into a defensive state. Hunter thought it was typical, the same day he declared he didn't have an ounce of care became the night he showed that Jude and Saoirse were all he cared about. And deeply. He could see something jolt into Lia after it too, as if she had the sudden and swift reminder that this was all real. She was a mother. And he wished he could say sorry that she was unlucky enough that it was him to make her one.

The small girl was fast asleep by the time Lia returned and Hunter was propped on the couch, staring into nothing. The bedroom door was wide open as he still didn't trust his wolf senses to hear any of Saoirse's stirs. But Lia entered with a box full of somethings, and Hunter was quickly to his feet. "Every time I damn see you, you're carryin' something or lifting something." he said as he took it from her, a feeble attempt at a lighter tone. "What's in this?" he tried to take a peek, using his other hand to lift a blanket to stare inside but it was more baby-things that he had no idea what they did. He placed it on the kitchen table, hovering for a moment before he took a seat. "People givin' you all this 'cause you saved the day?" it was Hunter's way of acknowledging that without Lia's senses, their days since the full moon could have looked entirely different.

#huntercrosschat #interactions; hunter and liadan 006

[bluejay-writes]

The Raccoon Problem

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Characters: Halsin/Saoirse (Mimi's Druid Tav!) Wordcount: 3630

Notes: This is a secret santa gift for @lavellvn!

You can also read/collect this over on AO3!

“Hey! Get out of that garbage! Don’t make me call The Watch.”

Regin froze mid-rummage, and looked up at the man silhouetted there against the back door of the tavern in the lantern light, but didn’t say anything in response. Having The Watch looking for him was the most terrifying thing he’d experienced in all of his seven years and he wasn’t interested in having it happen again, thanks. He backed away from the garbage, into the darkness of the alleyway, tying the cloth around the spoils of his trash adventure.

“Damn urchin.” the man muttered, unaware how his voice carried in the silence of the night. “If it were a girl, they’d at least take it off my hands for some coin.”

When he returned to the literal hole in a wall he was currently sleeping in, Regin looked over the food he’d managed to gather. A very burned bread roll, a few bones that hadn’t been picked quite clean though he didn’t know what the meat was, and some rinds from cheese that only had a little mold on them. It would get him through to tomorrow night, at least. But that tavern was the last place that he’d been able to visit, everywhere else had chased him away, and now they were on the lookout for him as well. He might have to brave one of the older places again. Or figure out how to hide better so they didn’t shoo him away. If only he was a girl, like the tavern keep had said. He didn’t know why girls were better, or who they were that would want a girl, but at least he wouldn’t be cold and hungry. 

Maybe he could try foraging as a dog, not just sleeping. But dogs tended to draw attention, that’s why he was only a dog when he was in his hiding place, to stay warm for sleeping. Maybe he could try being one of those stripey-whatsits that he saw in the trash sometimes. They had good hands for digging through the trash, and people tended to avoid them. Yeah. That’s what he’d do.

“So, tell me again why you’re looking for help from Druids?” Halsin asked the bartender. His tavern was well-kept, and as far as Halsin could tell, it didn’t even have the usual vermin problem, thanks most likely to the two cats laying in the last rays of sunlight coming through the front window. The tavernkeep’s eyes often strayed to his partner, Saoirse, who was entertaining herself chatting with said cats. Her usual attire tended to draw attention wherever they went, not that he would ever find fault with her choices. She looked stunning no matter what form or coverings she chose.

“We’ve got a raccoon problem. Thing’s a real menace. It’s in our trash every night and it’s gotten smart enough to avoid the traps and even the dogs we’ve tried to set on it. Only thing else I can think of to do to get rid of it at this point is a bigger predator, but I’ll be damned before I bring in a wild bear or wolf just to get rid of a clever raccoon. Figured a druid would be able to talk to the thing or scare it away by sleeping in the yard as something bigger.”

Halsin nodded, and turned to consult with Saoirse.

“My heart, what do you think about this? Any insight from your feline friends?”

Saoirse hummed in thought. “They say the raccoon smells wrong. Not like other raccoons.”

“Cursed, perhaps?” Halsin thought, and Saoirse shrugged. “Well, would you like to spend some time here, dearest? Solve a little raccoon puzzle before we head on?”

Saoirse chuckled. “Who would I be if I passed up both the chance to understand a creature of Faerûn and a chance to have a bear nap with my beloved?”

Halsin turned and addressed the man behind the bar once again. “We’ll handle your raccoon problem.”

“Good, you have two days, as we’ve a wedding here in four and if you can’t do it we gotta have a day to try… something else.”

“What something else?” Halsin asked, half-growled as though he knew already what the man was going to say.

“Poison, obviously. I don’t want to do it, else I never would have put a call out for druid adventurers, but if I want to keep the noble wedding contract, I gotta get rid of the raccoon.”

Halsin sighed. “Don’t even consider the poison. Children rummage through the trash and anything that can hurt a raccoon can kill a child in no time flat, let alone the harm it could do to local pets.” Or the destitute in the area. He didn’t add that last bit. Most people saw the poor as a blight anyway and would happily be rid of them just as much as they would pests. “We’ll handle your raccoon, one way or another.”

The tavernkeeper nodded, and Halsin was calmed to notice the relief in their face. They weren’t lying about being reluctant to use fatal methods, at least.

“You gonna be warm enough out there or should I get you some firewood? It can get a mite chilly now that it’s started snowing.”

“We’ll be fine.” Saiorse purred, pulling Halsin out through the kitchen into the Tavern’s yard. She’d had enough of this conversation, and wanted to get started, thanks.

Regin sniffed the air as he approached his usual tavern hunting ground. Okay, okay, it was the trash, but he was hunting for dinner so it counted. He paused for a moment when he smelled something unusual. He crept slower and more carefully towards the tavern only to see large furry lumps in the yard. Was that… bears?! Regin had only ever seen a bear from a distance before. These two looked cozy, all curled up together in the snow. Regin was jealous. He wished he had someone to curl up with on the snowy nights. It was too cold these days, even when he was a dog. Maybe if he was one of those fluffy dogs? He hadn’t gotten a good enough look at one of those to be one before, and even though he could see the bears real close, he knew being a bear would get him in way more trouble than a small dog would, even if it were warmer.

The bears didn’t seem to react to him arriving, so Regin decided to risk digging through the trash even though there were bears. They didn’t look like they wanted to attack him when he appeared, so maybe they would just let him dig through the trash. Besides, he knew the way up to the rooftops between here and his hole, so he was sure he could outrun a bear no problem, even if they were angry. 

As he dug through the trash, setting aside the most edible looking pieces of refuse, he could feel the eyes of the larger bear following his movements. The smaller bear seemed to be asleep, right up until the point where it stood and lunged at the trash bins, all in a matter of seconds.

Regin didn’t know why the bear was coming after him but he did know that he definitely didn’t want to die. He especially didn’t want to get eaten by a bear! Abandoning his haul, little cloth bag and all, he skittered away down the alley and up to the rooftops, dropping his stripey-whatsit form just as soon as he was clear of the bear so that it wouldn’t be able to follow him by scent. Sure, getting back off of the roofs as a little boy was dangerous, but a whole lot less dangerous than being eaten by a bear!

Saoirse cursed as she lost track of the raccoon across the rooftops. Little thing was wicked fast, and the cats were right. It didn’t smell like a raccoon at all. She shifted into a shrew and skittered her way up to the rooftop, sniffing as she went. Unfortunately, the trail stopped dead just two roofs away, and the roof itself was awash in so much scent that her little nose got confused, and she was forced to head back to Halsin empty-handed.

“Nothing.” She said, as she stopped next to where Halsin was staring into the trash bin. “It got away.”

“It’s definitely more than just a normal raccoon.” Halsin rumbled quietly, and showed Saoirse the cloth bag that the raccoon had been carrying, sewn together with rough but intentional stitches. “I don’t think it’s a curse, unless that curse burdens it with a humanoid level of intelligence.”

“Were-Raccoon?” Saoirse suggested, though even she was hesitant to believe it.

“Possible. Or a Doppleganger trying to stay under the radar while it gathers intelligence. There are any number of things it could be, up to and including a fellow druid. Though, a fellow druid should have recognized our nature and spoken to us rather than running.”

“What if it’s a child, Halsin?” Saoirse said, leaning against his shoulder. “Would a child know druidic norms and expectations? If they aren’t yet part of a circle, they may not even be able to tell the difference between one of us and a standard bear.”

“It would explain the level of moxie this one had, to rummage in the garbage even with us both laying there. A normal raccoon wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near that close the moment it smelled us.”

“Well, whatever it is, it’ll be back for this bag. it’s a clearly well loved and cared for object, after all.” Saoirse said, running her finger along the rough seam. “Shall we adjourn once more to rest?”

“Aye, we shall. I would have you take a flighted form though, my heart. If it comes back, i do not want to lose sight of it again.”

Saoirse nodded, and as Halsin settled back to rest as a bear, she shifted to nighthawk and settled on his flank to keep watch for the raccoon’s return.

Regin shivered in his hole. Even his dog form wasn’t keeping him warm in this weather, and with no food in his belly he was feeling especially bad. With winter setting in, fewer people were traveling so there was less edible waste at the inn, so he was even thinner than usual. Eventually, he knew he had to go back and try again, at least to retrieve his bag. The bears couldn’t be there forever, and if he could at least grab his bag he’d be able to scrounge food from somewhere else tonight. Something, anything to keep him going one more day.

Without changing form, Regin loped out of his hole and back down the alleys towards the inn. He could at least see if the bears were still there before spending the energy to shift into his striped trash-dweller self.

Sure enough, the larger of the two bears was there, eyes closed in apparent rest. The small bear had yet to return, and Regin wondered if it was still trying to get up the building to chase after the stripey-whatsit he used to be. He walked around the inn’s area a few times, and then turned to go back to his home. One bear was there, but it was sleeping. That would probably give him the time to grab his bag and get out if he was lucky. He didn’t really have a choice, though. He needed his bag if he was going to carry enough food to keep himself alive.

“You seeing this?” Halsin rumbled, and Saoirse chuckled.

“That scrawny pup? It’s circled three times, each time checking you out, and the trash, and the building the raccoon disappeared on. If it comes again, I’m going to wing up and follow it and see if I can’t find its home.” Saoirse moved from his flank to the rooftop, to make it easier to tail the dog that did in fact reappear moments later, before turning and leaving.

She followed it, until it tucked itself into a literal hole in one of the town’s outer walls, before curling up. She started to reach out to Halsin to tell him what she’d learned, only to interrupt herself mid sentence.

Well, the dog seems to be holed up in— Nature’s Bounty, Halsin!! You were right! It is a little druid boy. He’s heading back your way as a raccoon, I can only assume to retrieve his bag.

Heard. was the only response Halsin gave, and Saoirse waited until the boy was well and truly gone before she shifted back to herself and investigated the den to try and understand him better. There was nothing here to identify the owner as anything more than a scraggly little dog. Bones, the inedible parts of cheese rinds (though these too were gnawed on) and some tattered bits of blanket were all that were here. The den smelled of dog, and of raccoon, and of boy, all of them seeming slightly off somehow. This boy had been doing nothing more than surviving, and that just barely. Saoirse felt herself flare with protective anger, but before she could say a word, Halsin reached her with another message.

I have him. Come back to me, my heart, we have much to discuss with this young one.

Regin shivered in fear, the large bear’s paw pinning him to the ground.

“Promise me you won’t run, child, and I will let you up.” The bear spoke.

Bears can talk?! Regin thought, confused and very very afraid. He just nodded. He didn’t know if stripey-whatsits normally nodded, but he knew that bears probably couldn’t normally speak common, so maybe it was okay if he nodded.

The bear paw lifted off of him, and Regin felt blessed to be alive. He wasn’t even hurt, the bear had been very scary, but careful, which was weird because the bear definitely should have wanted to eat him because bears totally ate things like him in the wild, and… 

Regin’s eyes blew wide as the bear in front of him turned into a man. Still big. Still scary. Still very bear-like. But definitely a person now. Did that mean the littler bear was also a person!? Where was it now? Oh no, was it okay? Had it gotten hurt chasing him? That would be the worst, he never wanted anyone to get hurt because of him. Not like mama. Not again.

“You’re safe here, little one.” He rumbled, and Regin shook his head. How could he be safe, there was a big scary bear that was also a man and somewhere there was a smaller bear that was probably also a person that had gotten hurt because of him, and now he was going to be in trouble and…

“You’re scaring him, dear.” a voice said, as a bird landed on the fence near him and then… became a lady? Oh. They were… like him, then. People that could be animals. The lady wasn’t wearing much, just vines, it looked like, even in the snow. She crouched down next to him and reached out slowly, tentatively, before touching his nose, and saying ‘boop.’

Regin couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound awkward and stilted coming from a stripey-whatsit. He let go then, and went back to being a little boy. Hopefully it was okay with them, then, that he was a little boy who could also be a stripy-whatsit, and not a little girl like the tavernkeep said.

“There you are, little one.” the bear-man said, crouching down next to him. “I am Halsin, and she is Saoirse. Do you have a name?”

Regin nodded. “Mama called me Regin. Nobody else calls me anything though, so I must be Regin.”

Bear-man, no Halsin, seemed to be smiling. “I will call you Regin, then. Are you hungry?” He pulled some trail bread from a pouch and held it out towards Regin, who shook his head. He didn’t dare take anything from someone, that was the last thing he could possibly do.

“Mister Halsin, am I in trouble?” He looked between the two adults in front of him, still tense. He was still sure that he was going to be in real trouble, like with The Watch and everything. The Watch… he… really didn’t want to be handed over to The Watch.

“That depends.” Halsin said, not mincing words despite the youth in front of him. “Have you done something bad?”

“I stole from the trash.” Regin said. They knew he’d done it, there was no reason to pretend he was innocent. “I… I know stealing is wrong, always. But I was hungry, and it was the trash so that meant they didn’t want it anymore, and…”

“Shh.” Saoirse said, and Regin stopped talking immediately. “It’s not stealing if they threw it away, little one.”

“B-but I was also there when they didn’t want me there, I just didn’t have nowhere else to go so I kept using their trash even after they told me to leave, even though I had to learn to be a stripey-whatsit to do it.”

“A raccoon.” Halsin said, and Regin nodded.

“Yeah, a stripey-whatsit.”

“Who taught you how to be a raccoon?” Saoirse asked, now sitting casually in the snow next to him.

“Nobody. I just saw them and thought it was good that they had little hands and no one seemed to mind them being in or around trash.” Regin shrugged. “Dogs don’t have hands, so.”

“Did anyone teach you to be a dog?” Saoirse asked, then, and he shook his head.

“No, but lots of people called mama a dog so I thought maybe if I was a dog…” Regin didn’t want to finish that sentence, so he didn’t.

“Can you tell me anything more about your mother?” Saoirse asked, sharing a look with the man that Regin didn’t understand.

“She dressed a lot like you, well, kindof. Yours looks like plants, but mama mostly wore soft cloth, just… about as much as you wear I guess? It was red, always red. She was real pretty, her hair was real long, it went all the way to her hips! I want to have hair that long someday, but mine keeps breaking.” Regin reached up and played idly with the ends of his brown-black hair, shrugging.

“Where’s your mama now, Regin?” Halsin asked, softly.

“Oh. She’s dead.” Regin said, the relative nonchalance of his tone startling the adults. “I’ve been on my own for three winters now.”

Halsin eyed him carefully. “How old are you, child?”

“Seven, as of last summer.”

“And how did your mother die, if you can tell me?”

Regin shivered, but it wasn’t just from the cold. “The Watch killed her, Mister Halsin. She told me if The Watch ever took her that I had to run away and never go back home, and she’d find me, but… I couldn’t stay away. I knew I could get her back away from The Watch. They were looking for something she was hiding, like a pet, but she just swore she wasn’t hiding anything. She didn’t have a pet or nothin, just me. We couldn’t really take care of a pet, there was really only enough food for the two of us. But they kept saying they knew she was carrying it, and she told them she lost it, so it must have been something real important, cause the head of The Watch himself was there and he was so so mad. When she refused to tell him anything, he… he…” Regin’s eyes welled up with tears. He hadn’t cried over his mother since the day it had happened, why was he crying now? He almost didn’t flinch when the lady pulled him into her lap and hugged him. No one had hugged him like this since Mama.

“What happened to her?” Halsin asked, quietly.

“He shot her. With a crossbow. She fell down and never got up. I think she was gone right away. I.. I just ran and ran, like she told me to.”

Regin’s tears picked up then, and he sobbed into Saoirse’s chest until he was so exhausted he simply fell asleep.

Halsin and Saoirse took the boy into the room they had at the inn - they weren’t planning on solely sleeping outside, after all.

Once Saoirse had tucked the boy in, she sat down at the table with Halsin and sighed.

“So, the raccoon problem is a talented child druid.” She said, and Halsin nodded.

“Whose mother was likely a sex worker of some variety, hiding the fact that she’d had a child.”

“A child of some import, if The Watch was willing to go so far as to kill her over it.”

“Said child has spent three years fending for himself on the streets and not a single soul cared enough to take him in.” Halsin tried to tamp down the growl in his tone, but was generally unsuccessful. “I will not leave him to weather a fourth.”

“He wouldn’t be likely to survive it.” Saoirse said, sighing. “I have always wanted a son. Do you think… he would be willing to travel with us? Leave this place?”

“If he is willing, I will take him, lineage be damned.” Halsin said, reaching out to wrap Saoirse’s hands in his. “And I will teach him the proper names for animals. No more stripey-whatsits.”

“I want to feed him until he’s plump and happy like a young boy should be. I do not want to be able to count his ribs at a glance.”

“And make sure he can grow his hair long, like his mother.” Halsin said, the smile evident in his tone.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin

[bisluthq]

I know Jack is an accomplished theatre actor and that’s all he did for the first half of his 20s. But this line: “I’m so glad you said that because my partner Jack [Lowden] has done loads of theatre – like you – and he’s just like, “Yeah, I’m just going to go and do the show now. What do you want to do tomorrow?” And I’m like, “Do you want to go over your lines again or think about it some more, or stress some more?!”” Makes it sound that’s a conversation they have often, when in reality the last time he did theatre was in 2018 and she was in a different country for most of the run

I mean shit we say in conversations is not necessarily a play by play and it’s a better version than saying “when I did my play recently he was super chill about it and kept being like “so what’re we up to tomorrow” whereas I was freaking out” because that probably did happen lol but telling it that way makes Jack look bad and I think she knows his nonchalance comes from experience. My bf gave a guest lecture recently and he spent like the full 2 months he knew about it prepping for it because he doesn’t teach very often lol. I sometimes rock up for lectures/presentations/lessons having done like 15 mins of prep because I’ve been doing this kind of thing since postgrad so I just don’t get very stressed out about it 🤷🏻‍♀️😂 I think that’s what Saoirse meant - it stresses her out but Jack is very chill about it because he has done so much of it.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Halloween Birthday Bash

Paranormal Preteens AU: Episode Fifteen

A JSE Fanfic

Eeeee we're getting stakes in the story, guys! And that's all I'll say because I don't want to spoil anything :)c It's Halloween, which means it's Marvin and JJ's birthday. They invite all the others—Chase, Schneep, Jackie, and Stacy—over to their house for a party. And it's not quite what the others expect. Even before things take a sharp turn downhill. And yeah. Happy reading ;)

++++++++++++++++++++

Chase had been to a lot of other kids’ houses before, but they were usually all in the same sort of neighborhood. The suburbs, as Mom told him they were called. Marvin and JJ lived much closer to the center of town, at the end of a street called Riverview Place. The houses here were all tall and narrow, with flat, sloping roofs instead of pointed ones, their walls all connected in rows. It was hard to tell them apart.

“Okay, number 55, here we are,” Mom said, pulling to the side of the road. “Hey, isn’t that Jackie’s car?”

“Mm-hmm.” Chase nodded. “They invited him, too. And Stacy.”

“Ah, right.” Mom smiled. “I’m so glad you guys have met someone new. It’s good to have a girl’s perspective sometimes.”

“It is? On what?” Chase asked, genuinely confused.

“You’ll see.”

Chase turned around to look at Schneep in the backseat, silently asking if he knew what Mom was talking about. But Schneep wasn’t really paying attention. He had his face pressed up to the car window, staring out at the house. “Will there be enough room for all of us inside?” he asked. “It is a... skinny house.”

“This design of house is called a townhouse,” Mom explained. “And I think you’ll be fine.” She parked the car and looked at the boys. “Alright. I’ll pick you up at five, but if you want to leave early, just call me. We can go trick-or-treating afterwards. I managed to convince some of our neighbors to try it out for Henrik’s first real Halloween.”

Schneep smiled wide, excited; Chase had been hyping up Halloween all month. “That is great! So we go back home and put on the costumes?”

“You got it!” Mom said. “Now, do you want me to walk you two up to the door? I’d like to have a brief chat with Marvin and Jameson’s parents.”

“Sure, Mom.” Chase opened the car door. “C’mon, Sch—Henrik!”

“Yes, yes! Ah, will you help with the gifts?”

“Yeah, of course!”

The two of them got the presents from the back seat and practically ran up to the front door, Mom trailing behind them. Chase had been so curious about Marvin and JJ’s house after Marvin had asked the whole friend group to come over for their birthday. And now, seeing how different it was, he was even more curious. It did throw him off a bit. But that happened whenever you visited someone else’s house. Knowing the place where they lived was weird, though not in a bad way. Just in a different way.

Chase rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, it was answered by an old woman, her gray hair cut into a bob. She looked at the boys, blinked, then smiled. “Ah, more of JJ and Marvin’s friends, are ye?” she asked. “And their mam, by t’look of it. Good to meet you.”

“Hi.” Chase waved. “I’m Chase. This is my cousin, Henrik.”

“Ah, of course ye are. They’ve been talkin’ up a storm about when you’d get here.” The woman chuckled. “I’m the boys’ grandmother, I’m in town for the next couple o’months. My name’s Saoirse, but you can call me Granmam Molloy, if you want. Come in, come in. You too, young lady.”

Mom smiled, clearly flattered by being called ‘young lady.’ “Thank you. Are Emma and Robert here or is it just you?”

“They’re here, in the kitchen actin’ the maggot. Go on in t’ere if you want t’talk to them.”

Chase and Schneep walked into the house, finding themselves in a small entrance hall with white and blue wallpaper. A narrow hallway extended forward, made even narrower by the upwards staircase taking up half the space. Chase leaned back against the bannister to let Mom and Granmam pass by.

“What a strange staircase,” Schneep muttered. “Why does the handle curve at the end like that?”

“Huh?” Chase turned back around to look at the bannister he was leaning on. “Oh yeah. That’s weird, I’ve never seen a staircase, uhhhh, bannister do that. It’s blocking off, like, a third of the stairs. Do you have to scootch around it to go up and down?”

“You’re here!”

The two of them turned back around and saw Marvin running down the hallway towards them, skidding to a halt only a foot away. “I thought you weren’t coming!” he said. “I mean, of course you were coming, it sounds dumb when I say it like that, but you’re the last ones here so I was getting worried. You were looking at the stairs of doom, right? I mean, the staircase? Upstairs is just the bedrooms and the bathroom, yeah the only bathroom is on the second floor, it’s weird. Everyone else is in the living room, though! Well, Mam and Dad are in the kitchen, that’s through this doorway here, but what I’m saying is we’re all hanging out down here.”

Chase laughed. He hadn’t realized how much he missed Marvin talking so fast until these past few weeks of unusual silence from him. “Yeah, bro, of course we were coming! I think Mom got lost driving for a while.”

“Dad always says it’s easy to miss the turn onto the street.” Marvin nodded seriously. Then he gasped. “You brought presents!”

“They are from both of us,” Schneep said, lifting up the wrapped box he was holding. Chase had the other one pressed to his chest. “We would have gotten you both one from each of us, but Aunt Jess said this would be fine.”

“It totally is, don’t fucking worry about it!” Marvin turned around. “Well, c’mon!” He headed back down the hallway. Chase and Schneep quickly followed.

Chase’s first impression of the living room was that it was... weirdly nice. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because the place was so clean and tidy. Apart from the presents stacked on the coffee table, there wasn’t a mess anywhere. The L-shaped sofa and single armchair looked basically new, without a lot of the wear that furniture gets when it’s used for a couple years. A boxy television sat on top of a cabinet with closed doors that probably held all the movies and such. The walls were covered in more wallpaper, this time white-and-green striped. One wall had a bunch of framed photographs hanging on it in neat rows.

JJ, Jackie, and Stacy were all in here. Stacy was sitting in the armchair, looking a bit awkward perched on the edge, while Jackie and JJ were sitting on the sofa, where Jackie seemed to be showing JJ his camera. He looked up as Marvin, Chase, and Schneep walked in. “Hey, it’s the rest of the guys!” He smiled. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, great to be here!” Chase said, smiling back. He walked around the sofa and put the present down with the others already there. “Whoa, you have a lot of presents. Nice.”

They’re mostly clothes, JJ said.

“How do you know that?”

JJ shrugged. Mam and Dad always use the same type of boxes for clothes. Look at all the flat rectangles.

Schneep also put his present down and looked around the room. “You have a nice house.”

“It’s a bit cramped with you all in here, so that sucks, but yeah, it’s alright,” Marvin said.

“Hi Chase, hi Schneep.” Stacy gave a little wave.

“Hi Stacy.” Chase waved back. “So your parents let you come?”

“Yeah. It’s, uh...” She glanced around. “...really different from girl birthday parties. You guys don’t have any decorations? Or cake?”

“We have cake,” Marvin said defensively. “It’s in the kitchen with Mam and Dad. And we’ve never really had people over for birthdays, so like, there’s never really been a need to decorate stuff, you know?”

“My parents still get balloons even when I’m not having friends over,” Stacy said.

Marvin blinked, looking surprised. “Really?”

I’d like balloons, JJ said. It’s a bit too late now, but maybe next year.

A moment passed in silence. “Well, uh, now that everyone’s here we can get the party started!” Jackie said cheerfully. “What do you guys want to do? JJ, Marvin? It’s your party. You want to open presents first?”

“Oh! We can play video games!” Marvin said, walking over to the TV. He slid open a door in the cabinet, revealing, as Chase suspected, a row of DVD and game cases. “We just have a Wii, nothing exciting like at Chase’s house, and we only have four remotes but we can take turns! We have a lot of ‘party games.’”

“Cool, I’ve never used a Wii before.” Chase jumped over the back of the sofa and landed in the corner of the L shape.

JJ flinched. Don’t do that when Dad can see, he’s really particular about the furniture.

“Really? Oh. Sorry.” Chase shifted in his seat. “I was excited. Excited to play games with you guys on your birthday! Happy birthday, by the way! And happy Halloween!” He looked to the side. “Schneep, wish them happy birthday!”

Schneep was still standing, looking at the wall of photographs. His eyes were narrowed as he examined them all. “Was?” He turned back around. “Oh, yes. Happy birthday Marvin! Happy birthday JJ!”

At that moment, Mom peered into the room from the hallway, with Granmam behind her. “Chase? Henrik? I’m heading out now,” she said. “Have fun!”

“Alright, Mom!” Chase said.

“Goodbye, Aunt Jess.” Schneep waved.

“Goodbye.” Mom waved back. “I’ll be back at five.” And with that, she turned and left.

Granmam took her place staring into the room. “Ah, a full house, I see.” She chuckled. “Do you boys want me t’leave you to it?”

“Uhhh, yeah, I think so?” Marvin glanced at JJ, who nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Granmam!”

“Not a problem, lad. I’ll be in the dinin’ room wit’ your parents if you need me.” And she disappeared.

Marvin beamed. “Alright! Thanks again!” He then turned back to the TV cabinet. “Okay, what do you guys want to do?”

They ended up playing party games for a while, with everyone taking turns. Chase found the Wii remotes strange, but apparently Schneep and Stacy really clicked with the different controllers because they ended up playing more than Jackie and Chase did.

“Ach! Nicht fair!” Schneep shouted. “This game is—is broken! Why do you get all the high dice rolls?!”

“There’s a trick to it, I swear,” Stacy says. “It’s something about the timing.”

“Timing? Time to get your face out of my face.” Schneep grumbled, leaning back against the sofa and stretching his legs across the floor. He held up the remote for Chase to take. “Here. You do this part.”

“Oh I’m so glad you gave me the controller for the worst minigame,” Chase muttered, taking it anyway.

“I like this minigame,” Marvin said.

“It’s all luck!”

“Yeah, that’s why I like it. It evens the playing field.”

“The game has already—already—ah!” Schneep snapped his fingers a couple times, looking for the word. “Already leveled the playing field! With bombs!”

Jackie chuckled. “It’s demolished the playing field.” He settled back into the sofa cushions.

“If I knew you guys had a game system I would’ve got you guys a game for it,” Stacy muttered.

I’m sure whatever you got was great, JJ assured her.

Stacy sighed. “I should’ve actually asked you guys what you wanted.”

JJ shrugged. I’m never sure what I want for presents, only what I don’t want. Like clothes.

“I’ve wanted the same thing for ages,” Marvin said. “I want a pet.”

“A pet?” Chase asked, glancing away from the screen.

“Yeah! I know we don’t have room for a dog because they need a lot of space, but we could have a cat! I’ve asked every birthday and Christmas for a cat, but I’d be fine with anything. Like, we could have a hamster in our room. Or even a fucking fish. I really want a tiny, cute-ass animal in our house. I’ll take care of it and everything, I’ve read so much about cat care—well, and a bit about taking care of other pets. Like I said, I’d take anything.” Marvin paused. “But I really want a cat.”

“Pets are a lot of responsibility,” Jackie said. “I once pet-sitted for my aunt, it was so much to take care of her dog for just two days.”

“Yeah, I know.” Marvin shrugged. “I’ll take care of it. I’ve checked out a bunch of books from the library—Oh for the love of god!”

Chase laughed. “Do you still like this minigame, bro?”

Marvin threw his hands in the air. “I’m in last fucking place now! Dick!”

Chase just laughed harder. “Here, Schneep, take your controller again.” He held it down for Schneep to grab, but he wasn’t paying attention. “Hey. Schneep.” He followed Schneep’s line of sight. “Why are you staring at the pictures on the wall again?”

Schneep jumped a little. “Sorry.” He took the remote again, then looked at JJ and Marvin. “I-I hope you do not mind.”

“Course not,” Marvin said absentmindedly, paying more attention to the game. JJ just shrugged.

“Can I... ask you something?” Schneep asked. “Why... Are... A lot of the pictures just have one of you in them. That is... Do you two... Does one of you not like taking pictures?”

“Mam and Dad have more pictures,” Marvin said, still not looking away from the TV screen.

JJ sighed. They’re mostly of me, he said, looking up at the ceiling.

“...oh.” Schneep blinked. “That is... strange.”

The schools like to hand out awards for being very good at things, I’ve won a fair amount. Mam and Dad like to take photographs to remember the occasion. JJ jerked his head over to the wall of pictures. You’ll notice a lot of them have me or one of them holding up a piece of paper. That’s what that’s about.

Schneep narrowed his eyes. “That is not all of the pictures with just one of—”

JJ reached down and nudged him. It’s your turn again.

“Ah, so soon?” Schneep looked back at the TV.

The short conversation hadn’t gone unnoticed. Pretty much everyone else had heard and seen it, though Stacy was a bit confused on some of the words JJ signed. Jackie looked the most uneasy out of the group. He kept glancing back towards the hallway, towards the mentioned dining room. The only one who hadn’t really reacted was Marvin. He hadn’t turned away from the television the whole time. As if it wasn’t important enough to look away from the video game to listen.

“Weird,” Chase muttered, deciding to move on.

“Yeah, weird, huh, Chase Brody?” Stacy said in a suddenly pointed tone.

“Huh?” Chase looked over at her. She was still sitting in the armchair, basically in a straight line across the room from him.

“A lot of things are weird,” she said, eyes latched onto him from behind her pink-rimmed glasses. “But like, sometimes you shouldn’t use that word. People might not care for it.”

“Oh. Oh! Right.” Chase cringed. He hadn’t forgotten about apologizing to Marvin for the whole ‘magic weirdo’ incident. He just... hadn’t been able to. They were all so busy with school, and the Jacksons were in a different year so it was harder to see them around, and the group hadn’t met up much outside of school until now...

But this was a birthday party. This was supposed to be fun. Though, if Marvin thought Chase didn’t like him, that would get in the way of the fun. But also, what if Marvin had moved past it? He didn’t seem... different. Like how he’d been different recently. But also also, that could have been because Marvin also didn’t want to kill the fun mood. God, why was having friends so hard? It wasn’t supposed to be hard.

Chase was a bit quiet as they finished up the game, trying to think of a way to do this. As they wrapped up (JJ won), he decided it would probably be best to get right to it. “Hey, uh, Marvin? Can I talk to you... in the hallway?”

“Huh?” Marvin looked at him, confused. “Uh... sure.” He stood up. “Don’t pick a game without us, guys.”

“Everything okay, you two?” Jackie asked, concerned.

“Yeah, uh... I just want to talk about some stuff.” Chase glanced at Stacy. She gave him a smug little smile that made him want to change his mind about this. But whatever.

“Alright, c’mon.” Marvin walked into the hallway, and Chase followed him.

The two of them stopped halfway between the living room and the dining room doorway. It wasn’t too far, but Chase didn’t want the adults hearing this, that would be weird. As long as they spoke quietly, it should be fine. “So, uh...” Chase kicked at the carpet. “I, uh... Stacy told me that I’d said something mean.”

“She did?” Marvin’s face was hard to read.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t—I didn’t mean it when I said it, I just... wasn’t really thinking... uh.” Chase took a deep breath. “Anyway. When we were in the planetarium basement, Stacy and I were talking, and I said that I didn’t want people to know I was hanging out with ‘magic weirdos.’”

Marvin stiffened slightly. Chase wouldn’t have noticed that before, but now he was paying attention. “Yeah?”

“I, uh... didn’t realize you... heard that,” Chase said slowly. “A-and it’s not what I meant! I wasn’t calling you o-or anyone else a weirdo, I just... I-I was trying to say that’s what other kids would say. Not me. But, uh, Stacy and Schneep pointed out that it was still calling you guys names, and I’m sorry. I-I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Marvin tilted his head. “Really?”

“Uh... yeah.” Chase wasn’t expecting that flat tone. “I’m sorry. You’re not weird.”

“Really?” Marvin narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Yeah.”

“I’m wearing a fucking cape.” He twirled said cape around. “That’s not weird?”

“I mean... it is.” Chase instantly regretted that. “But that’s not a bad thing!” he hurried to add. “I mean, it’s great! You’re great. I-I still like you. And... and I never want to make you feel bad. So... I’m sorry.”

Marvin was silent for a moment. Chase shifted on his feet uncomfortably. He didn’t realize until now that Marvin rarely looked directly at people. The way he was staring at Chase now. Just as Chase was about to break the quiet, Marvin nodded. “Okay. Yeah.”

“We’re... good?” Chase asked hesitantly.

“Yeah. Apology accepted.” Marvin turned around. “Let’s go back to the party now.”

Chase watched him walk back down the hallway. He couldn’t help but feel that this wasn’t really over... But he followed him back into the living room anyway. Maybe he could ask about it again later.

It might have just been because of that conversation, but Chase felt like there was a weird mood in the air after that. The group played another game, shouting and laughing like they’d been doing before. Stacy talked a lot about how this was different from what she usually did with friends. Jackie took pictures with his camera. Marvin and JJ got really competitive playing. It all seemed fine on the surface. And yet, he could have sworn there was this... this tension below all that.

After only half an hour, the grown-ups walked into the room. Granmam, and a man and woman who were clearly the twins’ parents. The woman had short blonde hair and blue eyes, while the man had darker brown hair and a thick beard. “Alright boys!” Mr. Jackson clapped his hands for attention. “It’s time to open gifts.”

“Aw, hell yeah.” Marvin paused the game and put down the remote. “Jackie, scoot over, I have to sit next to JJ for this.”

“Here, you just take the spot.” Jackie stood up. “I don’t mind standing.”

Everyone scrambled to make room. Luckily, the adults had the idea to bring in chairs from the kitchen and put them down in front of the television (which they turned off without powering off the Wii.) It ended up with Chase, Schneep, and Stacy crowded onto the long part of the sofa’s L while the twins sat on the short part. The grown-ups sat in the kitchen chairs while Jackie took the armchair, where he now sat with his camera out for pictures. “Why don’ you open the gifts from all your friends first, boys?” Granmam suggested.

“Oh! Open ours!” Chase shouted. “That one’s for Marvin, and that one’s for JJ, right there, in the green wrapping paper.”

“Cool, it’s big!” Marvin said, excitedly picking up his present. “JJ, same time?”

Same time, JJ agreed, and the two of them started unwrapping, with Marvin tearing off the paper and JJ carefully undoing the tape.

“Henrik insisted on getting at least one book,” Chase said. “I don’t really get it, but I think you’ll like it. And, uh, they didn’t have the sort of magic that you like, Marvin, so I hope that’s fine—”

Marvin gasped. “It’s perfect!” He’d unwrapped a box that turned out to be a magic trick kit. “Magnificent Magic? Oh, that’s cool. I’m gonna learn how to do all the fucking card tricks.”

As one, the kids glanced towards Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, all of them expecting some reaction to Marvin’s swearing. But the two parents seemed fine. Mrs. Jackson was taking pictures just like Jackie was, smiling gently. “What did you get, Jameson?” Mr. Jackson asked. “Hold it up for the camera.”

JJ held up his present and automatically smiled for the picture. It was a book about filming techniques in old Hollywood. Chase hadn’t understood why Schneep insisted JJ would like it, but clearly Schneep had been right, because after the photo JJ turned to them and excitedly signed, Thank you so so much! It’s amazing! I’ve never had a book like this!

“You are welcome,” Schneep mumbled, grinning and ducking his head in embarrassment.

“You guys should do mine next,” Stacy said, pointing to a pair of identical white-and-gold presents.

Oooo the paper is so nice, JJ said, and picked one up.

“Yeah, we have really nice paper.” Stacy paused as the twins unwrapped the gifts. “I didn’t really know what to get you guys, because everyone I asked about presents for boys suggested sports stuff or car stuff, and I don’t think you guys care about either of those. So I gave up and got you the same thing I would’ve got a girl friend I didn’t know too well.”

“What is it?” Marvin opened up the thin book and looked at the pages inside. The cover was blue with a pattern of clouds. JJ held a book that was exactly the same, but with a pattern of stars.

“Diaries. Or, uh, journals, if ‘diary’ is too girly for you,” Stacy explained. “I think everyone should write stuff down.”

That’s such a great idea, JJ said, smiling. He and Marvin looked at each other and, after a second, swapped journals, apparently deciding they liked the other cover better.

“Hold it up for the picture!” Mrs. Jackson said, taking a photograph. “Oooo, they have little locks on them, how cute.”

“It’s just Jackie’s left now, right?” Marvin asked.

“Yeah.” Jackie chuckled. “I hope you’re not too disappointed. They’re those two gift bags right there.”

The twins picked up the bags and pulled out the tissue paper to look at the contents inside. What is this? JJ asked.

“It’s for your video camera. If you put the case on it, it’s supposed to protect it from being dropped. I hope it fits. I wanted to get a tripod, but I wasn’t sure if you already had one, or if I could find one you could use. Be hard to wrap, anyway.”

Marvin gasped as he looked at what he had. “Witchy socks!” He pulled out a bunch of striped and patterned socks in a variety of colors, all themed around black cats and broomsticks and other witch-like stuff. “That’s so fucking cool! I’ve never had fun socks before! Thank you!”

“Picture, boys!” Mrs. Jackson trilled, snapping another photo even though Marvin wasn’t looking at the camera. “Now it’s time for the gifts from family!”

“Ah, don’ rush ‘em, dear,” Granmam said. “The gifts’ll still be t’ere in five minutes. Here, boys.” She leaned forward, holding out a pair of envelopes. “I’m sure ye know what’s in t’ese.”

The family gifts started with money from Granmam, fifty in cash for each of the twins, which they both looked very excited for. The rest of the presents were from their parents. As JJ had suspected, a lot of the flat, rectangular packages were boxes of clothes. Every time he opened one, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson gushed about how nice he would look in that shirt, or those pants. He clearly got sick of it very quickly, but he kept smiling every time his mom prompted him for a picture. Marvin, meanwhile, abandoned all sense of order and began tearing open presents.

“Dude, slow down,” Chase said. “You’re not even checking the labels.”

Marvin snorted and rolled his eyes. “They don’t have labels. We’re twins. It’s always for both of us.”

That sort of made sense. But also... neither of the twins looked particularly excited about the presents from their parents. All of them were rather boring. Clothes, books, school supplies. The most exciting it got was a pair of white teddy bears, identical except for the bow ties around their necks (red and blue.) Where was all the fun stuff? If you were going to buy stuff that both of the twins would enjoy, wouldn’t you buy things that both of them liked? Instead of things that neither of them did?

Mr. and Mrs. Jackson didn’t seem to notice their kids’ lackluster reactions. They kept saying things like, “Isn’t it great?” and “That’ll be so helpful!” and “You’ll get a lot of use out of t’at!” Chase found himself quickly getting annoyed by these comments, but he had to be nice. They were Marvin and JJ’s parents, after all, and this was their house.

He also noticed Jackie had put away his camera a while ago, and was now leaning back in the armchair not reacting to much. Schneep was staring at the parents and frowning, but saying nothing. Stacy still looked like she was paying attention to the present-opening, but Chase recognized the way eyes began to glaze over when someone was bored. It usually happened to him in math class.

Eventually, it was over. Or—was it?

“Alright, everyone stay right here!” Mrs. Jackson stood up. “We have one last special gift t’is year!”

Mr. Jackson also nodded and stood up. “We’ll be right back.”

The two of them left, leaving Marvin and JJ exchanging curious looks. Granmam beamed at them. “You two will love t’is, boys,” she said. “I’ve helped out a bit wit’ the costs and the... well. Everyt’ing else you’ll need.”

The parents soon returned carrying a large box between them, wrapped but with a circular hole in one side. Unlike all the other presents, this one had a label on the top, though Chase couldn’t see what it was since there was also a large red ribbon. “Alright, here you go,” Mr. Jackson said as the two of them set it down on the sofa between the twins.

Marvin and JJ leaned over, looking at the label. They looked up at each other. JJ grimaced slightly, and Marvin leaned back, playing with the edge of his cape. “Come on, open it!” Mrs. Jackson said, sitting down and picking up the camera. “Marvin, help your brother.”

“No, I’m fine,” Marvin said shortly. “Go ahead, JJ.”

JJ’s grimace deepened, but he quickly schooled his expression into pleasant neutrality. Are you sure? he asked.

“Yeah.”

JJ nodded slowly. He began unwrapping the large box. Was it just in Chase’s imagination, or was the box... wiggling?

The paper fell away to reveal a big cardboard box. JJ opened the flaps on the top, and—

Something inside squeaked out a small mew.

The room fell silent. Chase stared at Marvin, who was looking into the box with wide eyes as a small gray head peeked over the edge. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson smiled. “Whoo!” Mrs. Jackson said. “Do you like it, Jameson?”

“Emma, the kitten is a present for both of them,” Granmam said, frowning in clear disapproval.

“We just thought that Jameson has been doing so well this year that he deserved a little extra reward,” Mr. Jackson explained. “Marvin can help take care of it, too, of course. We don’t play favorites.”

Marvin abruptly stood up. “I have to go to the bathroom,” he said, and hurried out of the room.

“Marvin!” Jackie gasped. He also stood and followed Marvin out of there.

“Um...” Stacy’s head darted around the room. Out of everyone, she was the most uncomfortable. “Is it... cute?” she asked awkwardly.

JJ reached into the box, prompting a couple more squeaky meows. He pulled out a tiny gray kitten, gently holding it in two hands. It wriggled a bit, and he carefully lowered it back into the box. He nodded.

“Alright, I suppose it’s time for cake, t’en,” Mrs. Jackson said.

JJ violently shook his head. I’m not blowing out the candles without Marvin, he said.

“He’ll just be a minute, Jameson—” Mr. Jackson started.

“Listen to the lad, will you?!” Granmam snapped. “He wants his brother t’ere, and you shoul’ too!” She stood up and left the room.

Mrs. Jackson sighed. “It’s alright, Bobby, we can wait,” she said. “Let’s go get everyt’ing ready in the kitchen, sure?”

Mr. Jackson nodded, and the two of them left the room.

The four remaining kids sat in silence for a long time. JJ’s eyes were fixed on the kitten in the box.

“Are you two... okay?” Schneep whispered.

JJ sighed. It’s fine.

“It is not.”

I know, but... JJ trailed off.

“You two can come over to our house whenever you want,” Schneep said quietly. “Ja, Chase?”

“Ja—Yes.” Chase nodded.

JJ gave them a small smile. Thank you. He sat up straight. I don’t think Marvin will be back for a while. I hope you weren’t expecting cake any time soon. While we wait, can you all help me sort these presents out? We’ll just stack them on top of the table again.

The others mumbled agreement and quietly went to work. Chase glanced up towards the second floor, where Marvin had mentioned the bathroom was. Everything would be fine, right?

++++++++++++++++++++

Knock knock knock. “Marvin?”

Marvin started, his breath catching in his throat. He looked towards the closed bathroom door but didn’t stand up from where he was sitting in the bathtub. In fact, he curled up tighter, pulling his knees closer to his chest and burying his face in them. 

“Marvin?” Jackie called again. “Are you okay?”

He wasn’t. But that didn’t matter, did it? It never. Fucking. Mattered. A sob clawed at his throat but he choked it back. Not while Jackie could hear.

“Everyone’s waiting downstairs,” Jackie said gently. “I... I know you’re upset. It... That was some bullshit back there. But... we... we’re here for you. JJ is, too.”

JJ was always there for him. Marvin had always been so... so happy that he was. It would be easy for him to leave his twin behind, but that wasn’t how it was between them. Did that make it worse? That he clearly didn’t want this, but it kept happening?

Another soft knock on the door. “Marvin?” It was Granmam this time. “I talked t’your parents. They shouldn’ have done t’at, the kitten is a gift for both of ye. I’m sorry.” She paused. “When you come out, we can have cake. It’s butter yellow, wit’ chocolate frosting. You can blow out the candles when you’re ready.”

Marvin swallowed the lump in his throat. “Mm-hmm,” he said. It was the most he could muster up.

He heard quiet voices. And then footsteps. The creak of the staircase. Granmam had probably convinced Jackie to leave. She knew that sometimes he just needed his space.

The moment they were out of earshot, the crying started in earnest. Marvin clutched his hair, rocking back and forth. Why? Why was this his life? Why was it always so hard? Why couldn’t he just have been normal? This was who he was. He couldn’t change it no matter how hard he tried. And he did try. When he was little, he tried to be quiet like Jameson, thinking that maybe his parents just didn’t like loud noises. But that wasn’t how it worked. That wasn’t how he worked. So he tried leaning into it. Maybe he could be impossible to forget about. And yet.

He didn’t understand. He never understood. And not just at home, either. Everyone else was the same. But it was the opposite there, wasn’t it? They never forgot him. They never forgot about how he broke the stupid rules that all the other kids seemed to just know! Why didn’t he know the rules?! What was wrong with wearing a cape to school? It didn’t break the dress code, and he liked how it felt, isn’t that all that should matter? Did they think he didn’t notice how they all looked away quickly? How not a single person ever talked with him if they didn’t need to?

Apparently they didn’t. Chase didn’t even realize that he’d hurt his feelings until Stacy told him. Shouldn’t it be fucking obvious?! Was he not doing it right?! How was he supposed to be upset the right way?! It shouldn’t matter! None of this should matter!

But it did.

“I’m sorry. You’re not weird.”

Chase was trying to be nice, but it didn’t work. Marvin knew he was different. He’d always known.

“But I still like you.”

‘Still.’ Like Marvin’s personality was something Chase had to... put up with. Was that always it? Was he always something to be put up with, and nothing more?

That was it, wasn’t it?

Marvin’s throat was starting to hurt from the sobs clawing at it. His pants had grown wet with tears and snot where he’d pressed his face into his legs. He couldn’t stay here. They were all waiting for him. Couldn’t keep up with the twins’ birthday if one half of the twins was missing.

Slowly, he raised his head. He wiped his face on his arm. “Stop it,” he said to himself. “Stop it, stop it.” He never understood how people stayed calm when it had all been so much. “Stop it, damn it.”

He got to his feet and stepped out of the bathtub, walking over to stand in front of the sink. His eyes were terribly red, and his lips were trembling. “Stop it,” he said to his reflection. Tears gathered in the reflection’s eyes, and he gritted his teeth. “Fucking stop it. You’re fourteen now. You can’t keep acting like a kid.”

His chest heaved with the effort of controlling his shaking breaths. He turned on the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. That seemed to shock his system enough for him to grab control again. He took several deep breaths just to prove he could. Then turned to the bathroom door, grabbed the handle, and slowly pushed it open.

The upstairs hallway was pretty quiet. Marvin couldn’t hear any noise from downstairs. He stepped out of the bathroom and walked over towards the staircase, pausing at the top. Now he could hear voices. Were they having a good time?

“Hey.”

“What the f—?!” Marvin spun around. That voice had come from right behind him.

And it was clear why. Standing mere inches from him... was Anti. Grinning. Marvin blinked, disoriented. He looked so... real. There wasn’t a hint of transparency to his body, though most of it was still black as shadow. The slash across his throat oozed blood, and Marvin could smell the metallic tang from it.

“Happy birthday,” Anti said.

And then he pushed.

Marvin screamed—mostly in surprise—he hadn’t seen the shove with how close they were—and then in pain. The world became colors—brown and white and blue—as he crashed down the stairs. His bones jolted with each impact. His arms and legs flailed.

And then his head cracked against something and it all went dark.

++++++++++++++++++++

Jameson’s head snapped up at the sound of the scream. He was running before the clattering sound even began. The others were frozen for a split second before they all ran after him, going right past the grown-ups also hurrying towards the sound.

Another scream. A lot like the other one. The kids all jolted in surprise; they hadn’t realized Jameson could scream. But he could. And he did. The reason why was clear.

Marvin was splayed at the bottom of the stairs. His body a tangled heap. Jameson collapsed to his knees next to him and started shaking his shoulder. When that didn’t work, he pulled him closer, cradling Marvin’s head in his arms as he started to cry. There was a smear of blood on the hardwood floor.

“Holy fuckin’ god!” Granmam gasped. “Mary and Joseph! Emma, call the fuckin’ hospital!”

Mrs. Jackson nodded, clearly in shock, and ran back into the dining room.

“I-is he okay?” Chase asked in a hushed voice. “What... what happened?”

Jackie put a hand on his shoulder. “He must’ve fallen down the stairs. He’ll... he’ll be fine.” Though Chase appreciated the comfort, he heard the shaking doubt in Jackie’s voice.

Schneep ran forward, kneeling next to Jameson. “You need to check pulses in the neck,” he said hurriedly, reaching out to feel for a heartbeat. “But sometimes i-it is hard to find, so you—you check the mouth with a mirror for breath. But! I-I can feel it. He is... okay, Jameson.”

Jameson shook his head. Things were not okay. Marvin was not okay.

++++++++++++++++++++

Chase had never been to the hospital before. He’d been to the doctor, but not to the hospital. It was different here. Brighter. The fluorescent lights lit up the white walls in a blinding way. Everyone who worked here wore blue or green shirts and pants. Things smelled... different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Stacy’s parents had already come to pick her up. She looked at the rest of them sadly, said, “Tell Marvin I said hi when he wakes up, a-and I hope he gets better,” then left with them. Chase and Schneep were still here. Sitting on a hard, square sofa in the middle of the hallway. A few doors down, JJ and his parents were inside a hospital room with Marvin, who still hadn’t woken up.

Mom was here, too. Schneep asked Chase to call her soon after Mrs. Jackson announced an ambulance was on the way, so that she could drive them to the hospital, too. Chase agreed. Neither of them wanted to leave. Mom understood, and was now waiting with them. Her foot kept tapping on the tiled floor while she stood there. She was worried. When she noticed Chase staring at her, she gave him a quick smile, to show that she was not worried.

The door to the room opened. A man wearing a white coat and those same blue clothes stepped out, followed shortly by Mr. Jackson, then Mrs. Jackson, who was holding Jameson tightly by the hand. The man glanced down at where Chase and Schneep were sitting, then went back into the room. The Jacksons saw them too, and walked over.

“How are things?” Mom asked, taking immediate charge of the situation.

“He’ll be fine,” Mr. Jackson said. “The fall just knocked him out and gave him a concussion. He’s awake now, but it hurts, so they gave him something for the pain. They want to keep him here for a night to monitor things.”

“Is it... okay that he was out for so long?” Mom asked cautiously.

“That’s what they’re watching for,” Mr. Jackson explained.

Chase and Schneep looked at JJ. His eyes were distant, staring forward at nothing. But he noticed them looking and managed to focus. Yanking his hand free of his mom’s grip, he signed, He was really confused and couldn’t really talk but the doctor said that was normal and he might actually be lucky considering his head hit the bannister.

“Can we go see him?” Chase asked.

“Sorry, kids, it’s family only right now,” Mrs. Jackson said sympathetically.

“But you are not still in there.” Schneep stared at the Jackson parents, his expression intense, but hard to read.

“Unfortunately, we can’t stay all day,” Mrs. Jackson continued. “We have work tomorrow, and Jameson is too young to stay on his own.”

Schneep nodded, but Chase saw his hands clench into shaking fists. And he realized what that intense expression meant: Schneep was angry.

JJ turned around, looking over his shoulder at the door to the room. His mom grabbed his hand again. “We’ll be right back here tomorrow,” she said to him. “Eight am sharp, promise.” He looked at her and nodded, his eyes going distant again before he looked back at the closed door.

There was some more talk between the adults, and then Mom sighed and said, “Alright, sweets. I know it sucks, but we have to go home now. We’ll come back tomorrow. Public visiting hours start at nine, and we’ll be right here for that. I promise.” Her voice softened into a whisper. “Marvin’s going to be fine.”

Chase and Schneep stared at each other. “I guess... we have to go,” Chase said.

Schneep nodded reluctantly.

The two of them stood up and followed Mom out of the hospital. The heavy air choked out all words, and the car ride back home was silent.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to go.

++++++++++++++++++++

Something was wrong.

Marvin had tried to explain it to Jameson when he woke up, but something was off. The words weren’t coming out, it was only mumbled sounds. The clearest thing he could manage was “Th’ shadow... wasn’... a sh’doh...” And that was no good. Did Jameson understand?

He’d never felt pain like this before. There was lightning in his head, racing down his face and neck with every heartbeat. A woman in blue clothes—scrubs. That’s what they were called. She put a needle in his arm and said it would help.

Mam and Dad left. They took Jameson with them. He saw the tears forming in his eyes, and he started crying as well. “Don’ leef...!” he tried to say.

His head was full of water, too, now. The ceiling tiles were starting to become one as the separating lines blurred together. This wasn’t... normal. This was... wrong.

He knew the doctor’s voice.

“Don’t worry, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, your son will be fine.”

Where did he know the voice from? The last time he’d been to the hospital was years ago, and he didn’t remember much of that visit. Why would he remember this voice?

The doctor was talking to the woman in blue scrubs now. The door to the room was closed but they were still mumbling. He had... he had to listen. But... they were talking underwater.

“...bit of a risk...” “They won’t... remember the first... years ago?” “Alri... move him? Tonight?” “...o’clock, when the shift...”

Why... was he so sleepy? He didn’t... need a nap. He never...

A shadow formed on the ceiling. It looked like... a person. And it... said something. He struggled against the sudden... sudden tiredness, and just before he fell asleep... he heard...

“I think you’ll like your present.”

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #brigid writes fanfiction #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #jackieboy man #antisepticeye #pnptau

[denimbex1986]

'Paul Mescal talked about the insecurity he feels as an actor during love scenes.

The 28-year-old actor revealed that he sometimes feels panic while filming these kinds of scenes, according to a Daily Mail report.

Recently, the Irishman filmed sex scenes with Andrew Scott , known for his role in "Fleabag" and "Sherlock", for the movie " All of Us Strangers ".

The film follows Andrew Scott's lonely screenwriter Adam as he encounters the spirits of his dead parents and falls in love with his neighbor in a skyscraper living in London.

Mescal admitted that he felt very vulnerable during the very personal and tender moments he filmed with Scott.

The actor told 'All of Us Strangers' writer and director Andrew Haig during an interview with AnOther magazine: 'Sometimes I felt panicked. Acting has the ability to be the most embarrassing thing any of us do."

He then went on to say, " When you're in a scene where [shame] is heightened—say, if your body is exposed or if there's an emotional weight to a scene—surprisingly, if you're working with good actors, you can just put a" bubble" around you and fight it out together. Andrew Scott is just outrageously good."

The actor went on to praise his co-star, saying that their closeness in real life allowed for an intimacy and trust on screen that he only sometimes had with other people, such as Daisy Edgar-Jones in "Normal People" and Saoirse Ronan in " Foe'.

The film is an adaptation of Japanese author Taichi Yamada's 1987 novel 'Strangers'.'

#Andrew Haigh #Paul Mescal #All of Us Strangers #Taichi Yamada #Strangers #Andrew Scott #Fleabag #Sherlock #Daisy Edgar-Jones #Normal People #Saoirse Ronan #Foe

[spreadyourwingsc]

Sy and  Soirse. Prologue.

Disclaimer, this is the first story i’ve ever written and published., its not proof written, its not checked, nor researched, this was literally just words that came flying out of my mind. Captain Syverson’s character is not my own, he just lives 24/7 on my mind, Soirse, just came to me watching an Soirse Ronan’s interview, and again, I dont know her, I dont own her, this characters just shares her names, and maybe the hair, but she’s not the person i intend to portray here, i am also, not irish, nor know a lot about of irish culture, all this just came to me while watching these irish actors in a movie that have nothing to do with this, nor Sand Castle. 

Please do not copy it also, if you do youd be stealing, and what does that say about you if youre stealing fan fiction. 

If any of my content is similar to another person, it is not my intention, i havent read every fanfiction that there is in the world but i have read my share, and while ive had some influence on them, its not my intention to copy anybodys work, i admire y’all way too much for that, but the moment somebody points out that this is a copy of somebody elses work or that its similar, i will delete, because that is the last thing that I want. 

with that said please enjoy this little experiment, im going through some hard feelings right now, and i will probably delete it after i overthink a little too much. but i hope this bring a little joy to your day, also if somebody wants to help me better this or help me finish it, it would be greatly appreciate it. 

Prologue

Logan Syverson is from Alpine texas, born and raised to Betty and Joseph Syverson, only boy, had a fairly normal childhood, father was military man, honorary discharge when Sy was a teenager. Sy was star of football team at Smalltown Alpine High, was an all around boy, polite, strong, educated, his mom doted on him and made sure he was a true gentleman, he’d spend his summer working with his dad at his workshop, Sy wanted to follow his dad footsteps in the military once he graduated against his mothers wish. But she was not going to stop him and was proud of him nonetheless., 

His dad was his typical Texan rancher, doted on Sy’s mother, they were high school sweethearts, and like being in the military and missed Sy’s birth and was not home he decided one son would be enough and once he was discharged he was glad he could be there to help Sys mother, even though sometimes she felt he missed his war filled days. 

While Sy was growing up he had his fair share of ladies, and how could he not. He was a sight to look at, when preadolescent hormones started to kick in, and the models on the magazines were more interesting than the toy cars, there was no going back for him. Sy loved his ladies like the next man, of course, with the respect they all deserved, for that reason he never found himself in a steady relationship.

That is until Saoirse (Sorche) came in. 

With very strong Irish background both her grandparents on her father side, had migrated to the states while not even being married, and started a new life, that’s how then Saoirse's dad  Conner Walsh was brought to this world, grew up in another small town in the US , adopting the American life and ways, and eventually meeting Saorise’s mother in New York, a city girl by all means, who got swept away by this irish-american redneck.

When they were about to have their 5th baby, Conner, decided he’s had enough of the busy city life and decided moving his big family of 7 to country side, considering a small town upbringings, not wanting his kids to get lost in the hustle of the city, at least until they would be old enough to decide if they rather it, or not.

Soirse Walsh was born on a hot summer day at Marfa, texas local hospital, a screaming scrappy baby with blonde reddish hair and the brown eyes, she was soon to be a storm to be reckoned with. Being the youngest of 5 children, and the only girl of a boys clan. While she was growing up, her mother was happy to finally have a female company around the house, her dad was ecstatic to have a little princess to spoil and dote alongside his wife. But the brothers were having none of that, while they loved and swore to protect her dearly, the teasing and bullying was always present, not to create trauma, but to create character. 

So when she’s stepped on Smalltown Alpine smalltown high, the school of the town over since her town was small it didn’t even have a highschool, her brothers long gone graduated all gone too soon to face their own choices in lives, one became a parent too early, but honored his father roots and became a family man, the other preferred to move to the hustle city , and other straight up joined military forces, while all different they all had in common that they all succeeded in whatever their craft were, making their parents proud and making her lovely mother hang up pictures in her wall of every accomplishment, everyone in Marfa, knew about the Walsh’s boys and how great they were at life. Which left out little Saoirse with a bar really high to climb. 

At 13 started in the new school, Saoirse still didn’t know what she wanted out of life,  she knew she liked swimming, and even considered the Olympics from time to time, doing well in her competitions, but she also was on the rougher side, she loved to hang around in the fields, and had a big interesting In bugs, and all the things not considered “girly”. When she was the only one kid left at the house her father made sure she knew how to take care of herself and even though they were six of them, never be dependent of a man, so she learned how to change a tire, how to ride a motorbike, and how to change the oil of her car. Her biggest proud moment was how she learned how to drive shift. All thanks to her dad and the brothers.

--

Thanks for reading!

#captain syverson

[yr-bed]

I know when to go out; I know when to stay in

From "How Colm Tóibín Burrowed Inside Thomas Mann's Head":

"Tóibín’s appetite for social life is reminiscent of one of his idols, Henry James, who accepted a hundred and seven invitations to dinner in London during the winter season of 1878-79. Tóibín thinks that his own record occurred in 1981, during his years as a journalist in Dublin: almost every night, he said, he was “out drinking with friends and hanging out in every pub, going to every art thing.” In part, Tóibín is searching, like James, for an anecdote that will grow into a story. The germ can lie fallow in his mind for a long time. His best-known novel, 'Brooklyn'—which was published in 2009, and later was adapted into a film starring Saoirse Ronan—took its inspiration from a chance comment made by a visitor paying a condolence call after the death of his father, more than forty years earlier, when Tóibín was twelve and growing up near the Irish coast, south of Dublin. 'One evening, a woman came and said her daughter had gone to Brooklyn and showed us all these letters,'”' he recalled. 'When she was gone, I heard people saying that the daughter had come back from America and not told anyone she’d married there.' "I asked Tóibín several times why he enjoyed being so busy—was it a way to escape 'the dark side of his soul,' as his Mann character muses in the new novel? Tóibín resists analysis in general. Once, when I inquired if he was happy, he answered, 'I don’t know what you mean by "happy."' This time, he initially quoted the musical 'Oklahoma!': '"I’m just a girl who can’t say no."' But I pressed him, and eventually he said, 'I think I’m sort of sad, and I’m not sad when I’m out with people—the sadness just sort of goes, departs, leaves me.' I wasn’t sure if I’d achieved a breakthrough or been rewarded for my persistence. Tóibín tries to please, if he can."

From "Joyce Carol Oates’s Relentless, Prolific Search for a Self"

In the midst of writing a novel, Oates sometimes felt so powerful—as if singled out—that she was startled when she passed store windows and saw her small, ordinary reflection. She made use of any stretch of free time, plotting the end of a novel while she was getting a cavity filled, or writing in the car on the way to book events. If her writing was going well, she didn’t want to stop ('one image, pursued, exhausted, then begets another'), and if it was going badly she also didn’t want to stop, because she needed to “get through the blockade, or around it, over it under it, any direction!—any direction, in order to live.' (After a few hours away from her desk, revising felt 'as if one is coming home.') Her friend Emily Mann told me, 'I’ve seen her, in the middle of a party, check out, and I think, She’s just written a chapter.' To waste time made her feel 'slithering, centerless,' she wrote in her journal, 'a 500-pound jellyfish unable to get to this desk.' Oates was friends with Susan Sontag, who had a busy social life, and after the two spent time together in New York City Oates told her, 'In some respects, I am appalled by the way you seem to be squandering your energy.' She reminded Sontag that 'the pages you perfect, day after day,' will be the 'means by which you define your deeper and more permanent self.'"

#writing #quotes #joyce carol oates #colm toibin

[lexiklecksi]

Writing questions (tag game)

Thanks @mjparkerwriting for tagging me to answer these writing questions!

1. What is your absolute all-time favourite idea you’ve ever had?

Probably the idea for my ya fantasy novel/ main wip "Drachenbrut". I wrote a flash fiction piece way back in the summer of 2018 about a vengeful dragon girl and I liked the character so much, I made her the protagonist of my book to tell her whole story.

2. Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

Someone asked me if my characters are self-inserts and I think a lot about it. Since I'm writing my novel in multiple personal povs, I think in a way all my characters show a different aspect of who I am or of the person I don't want to be.

3. What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

While writing, I love pouring my heart and soul onto paper, when the words just flow onto the page and a story that was caged in my mind comes to life. I don't like editing because I tend to overdo it and start questioning every word, which doesn't improve my original writing. Likewise, I rarely edit my poems and since I'm on the first draft of my novel, so far I've only edited basic grammar, spelling and plot holes or character names I've replaced.

4. What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

I could ramble so much about this, but it can be summed up in: The joy of telling a story, of getting lost in another world and find myself in the spaces between words.

5. What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

“Everything is driven by characters wanting different things, and by those different things colliding. Every moment that one character wants something, and another character wants something mutually exclusive, and they collide—every time that happens, you have a story.” – Neil Gaiman

6. What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

To stop overhinking all the details and just write out one story. A shitty first draft of a novel is better than many unwritten stories.

7. What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

Apart from my wip, I've only written poems and flash fiction. Here are some of my favourites:

Fleeting hearts (flash fiction from the pov of my oc mage Saoirse)

The fork (poem with a weird metaphor for body positivity)

The wheel of time (sci-fi/ fantasy poem)

8. What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?

“To gain your own voice, you have to forget about having it heard.” — Allen Ginsberg

9. Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

That is a tough question since all my characters are flawed and morally ambigious. I'm choosing Isobel, the evil faery. She grew up in the faery Queendom, which is basically a sex cult. She always takes what she wants and thinks she deserves more than others. Most beings only see her beauty and are enchanted by her looks, that’s why she gets away with treating others poorly. Plus, she loves to seduce other faeries and make them submit to her and her desires, so she never needs to raise more than a finger and actually work. I despise her selfish and lazy attitude and her lack of empathy and consent. Though I have to admit it's fun writing from her pov, because she is so convinced she deserves to be worshiped.

10. If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

I think I first started writing stories in 3rd grade/ at the age of 8. Back then, I daydreamed about becoming an author and publishing a book. Well, I've self-published my first book last year (just a collection of my German poems) and I'm working on my second book now. So I think younger me would be proud of me for not giving up on my dream and continuing to write for all these years.

I'm tagging @wingedcatastrophe @lavender-laney @charlies-storybook @perasperaadastrawriting @betweenthetimeandsound @caprifoi @writinglyra @silent-creed @thespacelizard @innocentlymacabre @anagnorvices @space-writes @veneritia (template under the cut)

What is your absolute all-time favourite ideas you’ve ever had?

Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?

Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

#writing questions #answered asks #writing community #writeblr #about me #writers on tumblr #writing a novel

[gracefulsunflower]

CONTRARY - FINN SHELBY X READER; PART 24

PUBLISHED: 15/06/2022

!!FIRST PART HERE!!

Part 1

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

READER'S POV

I sat with Lizzie in her office. She was training me to take over for her when she went on maternity leave.

I was also taking a correspondence course, where I was learning to type so I could do it without looking. She was teaching me too, which is what we were focusing on at this very moment.

A knock sounded on Lizzie's office door.

"Come in," She called out, and the door opened, revealing Saoirse, Charlie, and Billy, the latter holding a bunch of roses.

With Charlie holding his hand for support, Billy walked over and handed me the bouquet, a big grin on his face.

"Aunty Bee!" Billy said joyously as I picked him up and put him on my lap.

He was too little to say my actual name yet, so he called me my family nickname.

"For you, Aunt (N/N), from Uncle Finn," Charlie informed me as he headed over to Lizzie and gave her a cuddle, asking her how his little sister was.

I squeezed Billy and thanked him for bringing me the bouquet, making him giggle.

"They're for all of your efforts in training to be a secretary. And just cause Finn felt like it." Saoirse recited, then I put Billy down, watching as he toddled back over to Saoirse, then Charlie ran back out, Saoirse giggling as she shut the office door behind her.

I looked at the bouquet, running my finger over a soft petal.

"You're smiling," Lizzie pointed out, and I could hear the smile in her own voice.

"I hadn't noticed," I mused, placing the roses down next to the typewriter.

"How's it going with Finn?" Lizzie inquired as I copied what she already had on the sheet, trying not to look down at my hands as I pushed each key.

"Good." I replied simply, and it was.

"Give me a bit more than that, I want details!" Lizzie complained teasingly, grinning as she picked up her cup of tea.

"We jump each other's bones every night and only pretend to hate each other so you don't catch on to our passionate feelings for each other." I said matter-of-factly, making her snort at my lie.

"Come on," She begged, and I rolled my eyes, pulling my hands back from the typewriter, knowing that I wasn't going to get anymore practice done right now.

"It's good — We don't fight over petty things, he buys me gifts, as you can see, and I buy him gifts. He ends up in my bed more often than not, because we read a book together or just talk and he falls asleep there. I don't mind it. I don't hate him anymore. I like him — as a friend." I said, and she gave me a knowing look.

"I used to like Tommy as just a friend, and look where that got me," She replied, turning to the side.

Her bump was showing now, quite prominent. She was glowing. She only had two more months until she gave birth.

"I'm not going to end up like that!" I protested, but whether I meant pregnant or in love I wasn't sure.

Lizzie gave me a look that said she believed otherwise.

"Has he taken you on a date yet?" She asked, and I shook my head, making her gasp.

"Has Tommy taken you on a date yet?" I questioned, and she rolled her eyes but nodded, a soft smile appearing on her face.

"I'm not married to Tommy, though. You, however, are married to Finn, you should go out sometime." She reasoned, then sipped her tea.

"Ugh, fine. I'll tell him that you said that he needs to take me out, then." I threw my hands up in fake exasperation, but couldn't help the butterflies in my stomach as I thought about Finn taking me on a date.

Lizzie cheered, making me laugh as I put my fingers back on the keys. I quickly finished typing, with no errors this time.

I got up and stretched, going to stand next to Lizzie, grabbing my own cup of tea and taking a sip.

"How's it going with you," She asked, and I could hear the concerned undertone in her voice.

"Better," I answered, and it was true, "But I still feel unloved sometimes, even though I know I am and I deserve to be. By others and myself."

Lizzie gave me a sympathetic look. As a former whore I fully believed that she knew those feelings all too well.

"Do you tolerate yourself?" Lizzie inquired, and I snorted.

"Barely," Was my bitter reply.

"Well; you need to be neutral. Rome wasn't built in a day. It's not about saying that you're the kindest or anything like that, it's just about thinking about the small things, like how you say hello to everyone when you see them. And you've got to take notice of the little things too, not only what you do but what other people do for you. That way you won't get lost in your own head," Lizzie explained, making me nod, "But don't get too happy. Everyone's down sometimes."

I hummed in agreement.

"Shall we make a list?" Lizzie asked, sitting herself down in the chair in front of the desk gracefully, "I used to write down one thing for each person, but now I don't need to, because I know that I'm appreciated. And loved."

She caressed her bump on the last word, a smile finding its way onto her face. I 'awwed'. I wanted to be that happy, and I knew that it was attainable.

"I'll write down the names of everyone in the family, then," I replied, grabbing a spare piece of paper and a pen.

I had been focusing on typing too long. I needed a small break. I'd probably go seek out Finn after this, and go to lunch.

Dad - Always sits on the sides of couches in case I want to sit on the arm

Ezzie - Signed up for netball with me so I wouldn't be the only new girl

Bonnie - Carries my favourite chocolate in case he sees me

Saoirse - Leaves me notes about how she loves me whenever she stays over

Polly - Knows how I take my tea

Arthur - Looks after us at the Garrison

Tommy - Gave me a decent job

Finn - Carries spare ribbons and hair ties for me

Michael - Sends me clothes that I might like from America

Charlie Strong - Always finds me something interesting in his packages

Jeremiah - Taught me how to read

Isiah - Always tells me how Ezzie is doing if he's heard from her and I haven't

Linda - Bought me books that I could read

Lizzie - Teaches me new things

Charlie - Called me Aunty first

Ada - Showed me how to walk in heels

Karl - Made me a painting at school

Johnny Doggs - Updates me and Finn on how Esme and the kids are going

Curly - Looks after Charlotte when I ask him to

I placed my pen down, and Lizzie looked at the page.

"I thought you would've put the way that Finn dragged me around to buy four-poster beds so you could be comfortable in each other's beds," Lizzie said dryly, making my eyebrows shoot up.

It made sense now. The curtains could block out the light from my window for Finn, and I could still get my air whilst there was no light hitting us.

I felt my stomach growl, making me blush.

"Go have lunch," Lizzie made a shooing gesture, making me chuckle, and say see you later.

I grabbed the picnic basket from my feet and crossed the room to the door, opening it.

Tommy was standing just outside of the door. He quickly stepped out of my way with a nod. I nodded back at him, and headed down to Finn's office, which had finally had his name on the door.

I knocked, and heard a faint 'come in'. I opened the door, and Finn was just pulling on his coat, getting ready to leave.

He grinned when he saw me, which sent butterflies through my stomach. He quickly crossed the room, adjusting his cap on his head

"Did the flowers get there alright?" He asked as he walked through the door.

I swung it shut behind him, "Yeah, Billy walked them to me with Charlie's help."

"He does love his aunty Bee," Finn chuckled as I slipped my free hand into his.

He gave it a squeeze as we walked through the building, and exited it. We were heading to the park for lunch, to have a picnic.

We chatted as we walked, talking about the fact that we would have to buy new furniture. Esme had agreed to let the kids come visit on the weekend, and the furniture at the apartment didn't have the room to fit nine people, so we had to buy a new dining table, and a new set of armchairs and lounges. Maybe even two lounges. We agreed to get a dark colour, though, to hide stains with ease.

Soon enough, we arrived at the park, and picked a spot on the grass to sit on. I grabbed the blanket out of the basket and handed it to Finn, who spread it out. I sat down, putting the basket next to me.

Finn grabbed out the sandwiches, and the lemonade, handing me mine.

"You know, Lizzie is very disappointed that you haven't taken me on a date yet. She's ordering you to do so." I said as I unwrapped my sandwich, making him laugh.

"Well, tell her I'll take you to the carnival on the weekend, then." Finn replied easily, leaning back and laying his head down in my lap, removing his cap.

"I shall," I replied, then leaned back and took the first bite of my sandwich, being mindful not to drop any crumbs onto Finn.

I finished my first sandwich, and crumbled up the paper that I wrapped my sandwich with, throwing it back into the picnic basket.

"Play with my hair?" Finn requested, and I dusted my hands off, then ran them through his gelled curls, making him hum in approval and close his eyes.

I looked down at my husband, the sun shining down on his freckled face. I brought one hand away from his hair and gently stroked his jaw line, making him shudder.

"Not eating lunch until you get back?" I asked him, making him nod, eyes still closed.

Most of the times he ate with me, but sometimes he didn't feel like lunch until later. Those days were usually the ones in which he was fed up with his work.

I looked up at the sun, and sighed as I felt it shine down on my face. It wasn't too strong, a pleasant warmth. The rest of today was going to be a good day. I could feel it.

I thought about Finn taking me to the carnival, and I felt my face get a tiny bit warmer, and I couldn't blame it on the sun. I felt giddy, and excited.

§§§

Okay so I brought their first date forward lol it was originally going to be in chapter 30 but I got impatient 💔

Also I started this story one month ago!! Thank you all for supporting me with it :))

Love y'all ❤️

- Sunflower x

NEXT PART

Part 25

TAGLIST

@meadownicolee

@toothlessmcleod

@im-your-possession

@bethabear12

@paisley-37

@shelundeadxxxx

#finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby x y/n #finn shelby x you #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #x reader #arthur shelby #finn shelby fanfic #tommy shelby

[destinyc1020]

I think it’s fun sometimes to fancast. What I find frustrating lately is the constant mention of only 1or 2 actresses ( flo and Saoirse) for any part . The mention of Alicia Vikander below was so refreshing. That anon at least remembers that there are a plethora of actors available in the talent pool to be considered for upcoming movies and roles.

I agree.... It can be fun to fancast, but what I don't like is fans being so serious about it, and then being so disappointed or even hateful towards the actor who does get the role/part. 🥴

It's fine if it's just lighthearted, but some fans take things too far, and they get their hopes all up and are then upset when their fave didn't land the role.

It's one thing if the media reports that so-and-so director is looking at this list of actors for the role and your fave is on that list (I understand that), but when you're just pulling your faves' name out of thin air for every single role, it just gets OLD to me. 🥴

I trust that most casting directors know what their doing when they cast someone in a role, and it's actually kind of rare that I see a film and say that the actor should definitely NOT have been cast (it happens, but it's not as often as you think).

Most actors are cast in a role for a reason imo, and they usually end up being better than what I expected. 🤷🏾‍♀️